Devotions

Repentance means more than saying, “Lord, I am wrong.” It also means, “Lord, you are right!” 

Repentance means facing the truth about your sin and that it must end now. It is a crisis moment of truth, a place of recognition where you admit, “I cannot continue in my sin and have the Holy Ghost living in me. If I do, I will lose everything. Lord, you are right about sin bringing death upon me. I see that if I continue in it, it will destroy me and my family. God, I make no more excuses.” 

Simply put, repentance is a confrontation with your sin. The battle is fought before you get to the cross. It takes place as the Holy Spirit deals with you. 

The same is true of self-denial. In short, self-denial is a confrontation that says, “My sin ends now!” Contrary to what many “comfort preachers” say, self-denial is not some heartache you must bear or infirmity of your flesh. When Paul said, “I die daily” (I Corinthians 15:31, NKJV), he meant, “I have to deny that I can continue in sin and still have Christ’s favor. I don’t have a special dispensation from God to hold on to a pet sin just because I do good works. No. I agree with the Word of God, and I deny all my rights to continue in sin.”

The glorious truth of the gospel is that if we die with Jesus, we also come into the glory of his resurrection and into the newness of life. His cross is our cross; his death is our death, and his resurrection is our resurrection through our identification and union with him. That is the real cross we bear. 

However, this is the cross that many so-called ministers of the gospel have done away with. The real cross is not about lovely words describing our Savior’s suffering and bleeding on Calvary. No, the true meaning of the cross is that Jesus bled and died to bring our sin-sick souls into glorious liberty and freedom, to break every chain of sin that binds us. 

Beloved, this message is not meant to rail on you or lecture you. Rather, I believe I have a word of hope for you. Let me explain why you may find it so hard to be the kind, gracious, merciful Christian you want to be. 

We find the key in Psalm 119. The psalmist makes a powerful statement here: “Let, I pray, your merciful kindness be for my comfort, according to your word to your servant” (Psalm 119:76, NKJV). The meaning here is “Lord, your Word tells me I am to be comforted by the knowledge that you are merciful and full of compassion to me. Let me draw comfort from that great truth.”

If you were to look up the words “merciful” and “mercy” in a concordance, you would find hundreds of references. God’s Word overwhelms us with numerous promises of his marvelous grace, lovingkindness and compassion. He wants to impress upon us that he is merciful, longsuffering and slow to anger about our failures, weaknesses and temptations. 

“The Lord is merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in mercy” (Psalm 103:8).

All of God’s promises of mercy are given to comfort us in our trials. When we fail God, we think he is mad at us and ready to judge us. Instead, he wants us to know, “I will see you through. Simply repent. I am not mad at you. I am merciful, full of grace and love for you. Draw comfort from this.” It is comforting to know that God’s mercy will never be withdrawn from us. How comforting to know that when we sin or fail, his love toward us grows even stronger. 

Unless we draw comfort from the mercy God shows to us, we are in no position to give mercy that offers comfort to others. Only when we experience the absolute mercifulness of God will there be an overflow of mercy for everyone around us. We become merciful people because we ourselves are living in the mercy of God. 

As God’s children we are to be about our Father’s business, the mission of God. Sometimes, people misunderstand what we are doing. Even people in our own church or fellowship can misunderstand us and say, “You are far too outward-focused, and you are not meeting my needs.” 

It is true that if we are so outward-focused that we are not meeting the needs of those around us, then we are doing something wrong. We, as the church, are here in just the same way that Jesus was on earth. We are here to meet people’s needs. If someone is hurting, broken, bound, needing to be set free or seeking the infilling of the Holy Spirit, the church is here to minister to them at the point of their needs.  

However, it is important to understand that as needs are met, the expectation is “as freely as you have received, freely give.” When sending his disciples out in ministry, Jesus said to them, “And proclaim as you go, saying, ‘The kingdom of heaven is at hand.’ Heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse lepers, cast out demons. You received without paying; give without pay” (Matthew 10:7-8, ESV). 

Do you want more from God? Well, when you have received portion one, give that portion away. Come back for portion two and give that portion away, and then come back for portion three and follow the same process. 

The principle of the mission of God is “The more you give, the more you receive.” The more you are blessed, the more you have to give. The more you give, the more God continues to pour into you so that you can give even more. This principle is a source of hope and encouragement, reminding us that our giving is never in vain. 

As God’s people, we are called to reflect the glory, the power and the love of God. We are to receive it from him and give it out to others. As freely as we have received, we are to give. 

A lot of you look at your own life and determine that you’re not worthy of mercy. That’s a common affliction. The danger of it is that you are putting yourself in the place of God, deciding, “If I were God, I would not grant mercy to myself.” 

Look at Ezekiel 22; the nation of Israel was in a terrible place. The litany of crimes and abuse that the prophet wrote down makes you want to cover your face and weep. We look at this situation and say, “God, surely this nation is deserving of judgment.” 

Even when Israel was in this miserable condition, God was looking for an opportunity to show mercy. “So I sought for a man among them who would make a wall, and stand in the gap before me on behalf of the land, that I should not destroy it; but I found no one” (Ezekiel 22:30). There was nobody who would agree that God could show mercy. 

Sometimes, you look in the mirror and think back to what you’ve been doing in the last week or month or year, and you say, “God, surely I’m deserving of your judgment for the things I’ve spoken and for the way I’ve been living.”

You can’t ever earn mercy. It only exists if it’s the only thing left. Before that point, you’re working for something, but it’s a payment, not mercy. Jesus didn’t come for you because you have it all together but because you don’t. He said, “I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners, to repentance” (Luke 5:32, NKJV). He came for those who have no plans left and who are in the weakest state they’ve ever been in. 

When we get to the point where we can’t go forward, God says, “Well, let me do it for you.” Scripture tells us, “But to each one of us grace was given according to the measure of Christ’s gift. Therefore he says: ‘When he ascended on high, he led captivity captive, and gave gifts to men.’” (Ephesians 4:7-8). He took our captivity captive, and he gave us abilities that can only come from God in order to be people that we couldn’t be without God. We are told that we are now righteous through Jesus Christ and given the promise of eternal life in God’s presence. 

^{Carter Conlon joined the pastoral staff of Times Square Church in 1994 and was appointed Senior Pastor in 2001. In May of 2020, he transitioned into a continuing role as General Overseer of Times Square Church, Inc.}

“Why, O Lord, do you stand far away? Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble?” (Psalm 10:1, ESV). 

David’s cry was like those of so many Christians I’ve known for decades. “Why are you so distant from me while I go through these horrible things? Why do you stand so far away from me as I suffer?”

In some seasons of trial, we’re assaulted by terrors, fearing we’ll never emerge from our struggle and that maybe God has abandoned us. I’ve been there, and I can tell you that Psalm 10 has the power to mark a profound shift in your life.

To obtain true confidence in God’s Word, our souls often have to go into a deep valley. To gain the kind of trust God wants for us, we may be called to wrestle with his Word. Our most sincere prayer may sometimes be “Lord, I don’t get this. Your Word doesn’t line up with what is happening in my life. Nothing about this makes sense.” 

God honors that prayer. He already knows what is inside of us, and he knows every question we hide and every emotion we repress. God wants to bring it all out of the hiding place we’ve created and into his presence. 

Again and again, David cried out to God, “Lord, please hear my groaning. Attend to my cries.” We know this from David’s testimony in previous psalms. He spoke of having weak bones and a weary spirit. When he finally confessed his heart and made his plea to the Lord, new life sprang up in him. 

Jesus is faithful to bring this to pass in all of our lives. Our role is simple: to cry honestly before God, to call on him with every request, to commit all our fears to him and to stand confidently that he will raise us to new heights. 

Our trials are never a one-time experience. Other crises will surely come, yet with each one, there will be a profound difference. We won’t look at our battles as if God is using them to punish us. Instead, with our history of going through valleys, we’ll see our battles as training ground for warfare, and we’ll rejoice in God’s faithfulness to us. 

In whatever way God chooses to use these crises in our lives, he will bring us through as victors and not as victims. 

^{This devotional has been adapted from Gary Wilkerson’s book, The Altar of Our Hearts: An Expository Devotional on the Psalms.}