Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego replied, “O Nebuchadnezzar, we do not need to defend ourselves before you. If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God whom we serve is able to save us. He will rescue us from your power, Your Majesty. But even if he doesn’t, we want to make it clear to you, Your Majesty, that we will never serve your gods or worship the gold statue you have set up.”
DANIEL 3:13-18
I assume Nebuchadnezzar was expecting them to change their minds after he threatened them a bit, but that’s definitely not what happened. All three of the men likely knew the outcome of their refusal wasn’t going to be great, but they continued to trust that following the God who loved them was worth any cost.
I find myself marveling at the boldness and faithfulness of these men. They were so consumed and secure in their love for God that they were willing to risk it all. They weren’t shaken by the situation. They believed that following God mattered so much more than the approval of man. That’s what truly allowing the love of God to infiltrate your life looks like. You can live with the certainty, security, and boldness that, no matter your circumstances, choosing to follow God is always the right choice.
As you might expect, Nebuchadnezzar wasn’t particularly happy with the answer he got from the three men. He did as promised: He threw Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego into the blazing furnace.
Nebuchadnezzar was so furious with Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego that his face became distorted with rage. He commanded that the furnace be heated seven times hotter than usual. Then he ordered some of the strongest men of his army to bind Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego and throw them into the blazing furnace. So they tied them up and threw them into the furnace, fully dressed in their pants, turbans, robes, and other garments. And because the king, in his anger, had demanded such a hot fire in the furnace, the flames killed the soldiers as they threw the three men in. So Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, securely tied, fell into the roaring flames.
DANIEL 3:19-23
Now, many of us know this story well. But as I read it again, I saw it in a new way—through the lens of God’s love.
God’s love for the men didn’t mean that he stopped them from being thrown into the fire. Just as with Paul and Silas, and just as in our own lives, God loving us doesn’t mean we aren’t going to face impossible circumstances. Rather, God’s love means that we can enter those situations with the confidence that we are loved—the confidence that our foundation is secure. God might not protect us from experiencing trials in our lives, but he gives us everything we need to persevere and cling more closely to him. God might not protect us from experiencing brokenness in our lives, but his love offers a means of deep and unexpected healing.
Of course, just as God intervened powerfully with Paul and Silas, he stepped in and saved Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. And when the three men emerged from the furnace unharmed, protected by God’s power, they didn’t even smell like smoke.
Suddenly, Nebuchadnezzar jumped up in amazement and exclaimed to his advisers, “Didn’t we tie up three men and throw them into the furnace?”
“Yes, Your Majesty, we certainly did,” they replied.
“Look!” Nebuchadnezzar shouted. “I see four men, unbound, walking around in the fire unharmed! And the fourth looks like a god!”
Then Nebuchadnezzar came as close as he could to the door of the flaming furnace and shouted: “Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, servants of the Most High God, come out! Come here!”
So Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego stepped out of the fire. Then the high officers, officials, governors, and advisers crowded around them and saw that the fire had not touched them. Not a hair on their heads was singed, and their clothing was not scorched. They didn’t even smell of smoke!
DANIEL 3:24-27
Once again, God’s love extends beyond saving us from our present circumstances. His goal is always to speak of that love to us and to those who don’t know him. Nebuchadnezzar was front and center to God’s work. He had no choice but to acknowledge the incredible power of this God of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego.
Nebuchadnezzar said, “Praise to the God of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego! He sent his angel to rescue his servants who trusted in him. They defied the king’s command and were willing to die rather than serve or worship any god except their own God. Therefore, I make this decree: If any people, whatever their race or nation or language, speak a word against the God of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, they will be torn limb from limb, and their houses will be turned into heaps of rubble. There is no other god who can rescue like this!”
DANIEL 3:28-29
These stories of God working on behalf of those he loves, even and especially in the midst of impossibly hard circumstances, remind me of Isaiah 43:2:
When you go through deep waters,
I will be with you.
When you go through rivers of difficulty,
you will not drown.
When you walk through the fire of oppression,
you will not be burned up;
the flames will not consume you.
God doesn’t always save us from physical harm. His love doesn’t mean our circumstances always change in the way we want them to. But his love does mean that he never leaves us. It means that we are never alone and that he is working for a greater story than we can ever imagine. Trusting that love is the only path to true peace in life.
When we rely on God, his love, and his promises—when we let God’s love fuel our souls—he will bring us through whatever we’re walking through. Just keep singing. Just keep praising God. Just keep living in his love. Don’t let the world entice you with the many other so-called fulfillments that it has to offer. None of them can stand the test of time or bear all that life has to offer.
We all look to many different sources of contentment, but nothing except the love of God will hold fast when the winds and waves of life come crashing down on top of us. The love of God is deeper and more satisfying than anything we can imagine. It’s the oxygen that keeps us alive, the very roots that keep us grounded, and our unshakable foundation.
The Tale of Two Houses
When I was about sixteen years old, a massive storm descended on the Gulf Coast. Rarely did the West Coast, where I lived, experience this kind of life-threatening weather, so my family and I were intrigued as to what was taking place. The storm had everyone scared and running inland for protection, while the rest of the country watched in horror and prayed for the safety of those being affected. My family huddled around the television and watched the hurricane bring its worst, while people on the Gulf Coast took shelter where they could.
The winds were too powerful for helicopters to take flight, so the brave newscasters risked their lives on the ground to broadcast the craziness of the storm.
Because we were in Southern California, we really had nothing to stress about, but we were worried for the people who remained in the midst of the storm and had yet to make their way to safety. People live in houses of all shapes and sizes along the Gulf Coast—tall and short, wide and narrow, mansions and shacks. Some people have lived there in the same houses for decades, while others have demolished old ones to build something new on their dream spots of land. But storms don’t care what kind of house you live in. They have only one job: to be a storm.
Our family watched as the waves got bigger, the winds grew stronger, and the debris that was being tossed around became larger. We could hear the fear in the news anchor’s voice as the camera turned toward two houses. One appeared to be a beautiful newly built home—the kind with six bedrooms, a beautiful pool, a rooftop balcony, and probably its own theater room. The other house looked as though it were out of an old surfer movie—a shack that had clearly been built decades before. Both were at the mercy of the crashing waves.
“The waves are getting higher!” the news anchor said as he sought refuge in a parking garage. “I hope the owners of these homes have evacuated.” And at that moment, th
e camera captured a wave—then another and another—crashing on top of the houses. And then finally a massive tide of water covered every inch of both houses. You could have heard a pin drop in my family’s living room. We prayed that nobody was stuck inside those homes.
When the water began descending, we saw something no one expected. The newly built home was destroyed—unrecognizable, turned to rubble—and the little shack remained sturdy and strong. It was exactly the opposite of what you would have thought. Then the news anchor made a statement that I’ll never forget. He looked into the camera in disbelief and said, “Wow! They just don’t make them like they used to.”
His statement shook me to the core. It reminded me of Jesus’ words in Matthew 7:24-27 (ESV):
Everyone then who hears these words of mine and does them will be like a wise man who built his house on the rock. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on the rock. And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not do them will be like a foolish man who built his house on the sand. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell, and great was the fall of it.
According to Jesus, we can choose either to build our houses (our faith) on the rock—Jesus—or else to build our houses on the sand—the world. Both are foundations, but only one will last. Only one of them will withstand the storms we face. Only placing our faith in Jesus will bring us closer to him and help us live out of his best for us: his will.
Now, I don’t believe that the mansion on the coast was actually built on sand, but I think the comparison makes sense. Think about the reporter’s words: “They just don’t make them like they used to.” Houses today often aren’t made with as much diligence as those built one hundred, fifty, or even twenty-five years ago. We live in a culture that wants to get things done as quickly as possible, sometimes skipping over small but crucial details. And although that little beach shack probably cost a fraction of what the mansion did, its foundation was strong, likely the result of careful planning and building. We should build our lives with God in the same way. You can’t rush true love, and building a relationship with God is a marathon, not a sprint.
I love how Eugene Peterson rendered Matthew 7:24-27 in The Message:
These words I speak to you are not incidental additions to your life, homeowner improvements to your standard of living. They are foundational words, words to build a life on. If you work these words into your life, you are like a smart carpenter who built his house on solid rock. Rain poured down, the river flooded, a tornado hit—but nothing moved that house. It was fixed to the rock.
But if you just use my words in Bible studies and don’t work them into your life, you are like a stupid carpenter who built his house on the sandy beach. When a storm rolled in and the waves came up, it collapsed like a house of cards.
When we build our lives on the foundation of God’s love, nothing in life can destroy us. We’re content in him, no matter what comes. We won’t rely on people or things for our worth and identity. Building our lives on this foundation takes time. It takes investment. It takes digging deep and rooting ourselves in his love. When we try to build our relationships with God the quick and easy way, we lose out on the strength and maturity that he longs to develop in us. And without that strength and maturity, we’re not going to last when the waves come and the winds blow. Choosing to be identified by God’s love means choosing the only identity in this world that will ever stand the test of time—the only identity that will carry us through every circumstance.
For as long as I can remember, our entire Wilson clan has taken a trip to the High Sierras once a year for a family vacation. We get to forget about work, school, and the hustle and bustle of life and instead enjoy the artistry and wonder of God’s creation, also known as the High Sierras and a place my family simply refers to as “Mammoth.” This place is beautiful—lakes, rivers, streams, snowcapped mountains, and breathtaking views. Something about the outdoors ignites a sense of exploration and adventure. Many people say being outdoors brings them the closest to God’s presence.
The outspoken abolitionist and poet Henry David Thoreau said it best:
We need the tonic of wildness. . . . At the same time that we are earnest to explore and learn all things, we require that all things be mysterious and unexplorable, that land and sea be indefinitely wild, unsurveyed and unfathomed by us because unfathomable. We can never have enough of nature.[9]
Our trip to Mammoth took only about six hours via car ride, but when I was a young boy, it felt as though it was halfway around the world. Before leaving on this arduous adventure, I would make sure to pack all the essentials: snacks, Swiss Army pocketknife, original Game Boy, extra batteries, and more snacks. You know, the essentials. But no matter what I brought with me to help pass the time, I got bored about two hours into our adventure and constantly asked my father, “How much longer do you think until we get there?” Yeah, I was that kid. But I couldn’t help myself. I was just excited to be on vacation with my family and to get out of school for a few weeks. I absolutely loved everything about spending time in Mammoth. It was the trip that my friends always asked me about when I came home, wanting to see all the pictures I had taken with my disposable camera. I still have a lot of those photos. I will cherish those memories forever.
Once at the campsites, which we had reserved almost a year out, chaos erupted as the different groups within our family began setting up tents, unloading RVs, and making the area feel like a piece of home. My grandfather usually fell asleep on a picnic table while the rest of us got to work. Not because he was lazy, but because hey, the guy deserved to rest. Technically none of us would be here without him. He was our tribe chief, and he’d been making the same trip every year for more than thirty years with his kids. He loved Mammoth: the place where everything in life was just perfect and the way it was meant to be. I still remember the year when he chased a bear out of our campsite in nothing but his underwear (I’ll leave the details of that story to your imagination). My grandfather was the man. After he passed away, our family even mounted a small plaque on a tree at his favorite campsite. It’s still there to this day.
Regardless of what everyone was doing upon arrival, we were all excited for the few weeks set aside to relax, refocus, and refuel as a family. These were the moments I’d remember for the rest of my life—moments that helped shape me into the man I am today. I dream of the day when my kids will be old enough for us to go to these mountains: to explore the wilderness, go fishing, and spend time in amazement and awe of God’s creation and truly understand its totality.
One of my all-time favorite childhood activities in the mountains was starting the nightly campfire. It’s no secret that all children are closet pyromaniacs. For some reason, kids and fire just go hand in hand. Fire is mesmerizing, to say the least, and it begs to be played with, poked at, and stared at until someone yells, “Stop playing with the fire! You’re going to burn yourself, Jarrid!”
But I couldn’t help it. It was fire, one of God’s greatest creations (next to morning cartoons!). I was ten, and starting the family fire was a duty of honor. Getting to do so was almost a spiritual experience.
Lighting the fire was an art, and I loved every step of the process. I’d always start with some tiny wood shavings, stack a few logs on top of one another, and then add a small piece of paper to the bottom to finish it off. I’d imagine that my family was stranded in the middle of a desolate forest, cold and hungry, and for some reason I was the only one capable of igniting the flames that would bring us comfort. Not only was the fire going to bring our family warmth for the night, but it was also the way we would bring light to our campsite. And some nights, it’s how we would even cook our food. It was a necessity.
In order to keep the fire roaring, I would find myself constantly adding more wood. Every twenty or thirty minutes, I’d add one log and then another
and then another until we all decided it was time to head to bed. But even then, some nights we’d take turns adding logs overnight to keep the bears away. We were adding fuel to the fire in order to keep the fire alive.
Keep the Fire Burning
Just as we cannot rely on old logs to keep the fire burning, we also cannot rely on the faith of yesterday to keep our relationship with God flourishing today. And, as I heard an old preacher once say, we “can’t ride the coattails of our father’s faith.” Keeping our passion alive for God is something that we have to choose to do each and every day. God’s love is always available, but if we don’t find ourselves constantly receiving that love and if we don’t keep going back for more, our unique and beautiful relationship with God will diminish to embers, ceasing to produce anything of value. That’s not a place any of us should want to be in, especially as people commissioned with the incredible task of sharing the gospel with all nations and all people. God has provided us with everything we need to keep our faith in him active and vibrant, but we have to make the decision to receive it and apply it. I think we’d all be surprised to know how many people are handed God’s wisdom and guidance but don’t utilize it.
We must always be on the lookout to add more nourishment to the fire pits that are our spiritual lives. God’s love fuels not only our own spiritual lives but also everything we do to love others and make a difference in the world for Jesus’ sake. It’s like the great John Wesley once said: “Get on fire for God and men will come and see you burn.” And that’s exactly what we’re called to do. Without our hearts ablaze in faith, we’re no good to the cause of Christ. Without our souls on fire with love, we’re nothing more than darkness. And that’s exactly where Satan wants us to be. We cannot do anything in our own love, because our own love isn’t really love at all. Only through the power and fuel of God’s love can we make a difference in this world.
Love Is Oxygen Page 7
