We Have Been There Before
Dave Faust
Legendary football coach Paul Brown had a big impact on the game. He coached successful teams in high school and college, and served as general manager of the NFL's Cleveland Browns and Cincinnati Bengals. Brown wore a jacket and tie on game days and took a no-nonsense approach. He expected high levels of discipline from his players, even urging them to mind their table manners in training camp—to eat quietly and keep their elbows off the table.
Despite his conservative appearance, Brown was an innovator who pioneered in the use of playbooks and game films to scout his opponents' strengths and weaknesses. But one innovation didn't suit his style at all. Brown didn't like it when exuberant players danced in the end zone after scoring a touchdown. He wanted his players to display quiet confidence and dignity. "When you make it to the end zone," Brown insisted, "act like you've been there before."
That's good advice for all of us as we face a new year filled with familiar problems and unknown challenges.
Why get upset when hardships beset us? We've been there before. God's Word tells us, "Do not be surprised at the painful trial you are suffering, as though something strange were happening to you" (1 Peter 4:12). Seasons of persecution and times of trial have afflicted God's people throughout history. Our generation isn't immune.
Why should we be amazed when God answers prayer—or delays his answer for a while? We've been there before. We know God's heart of love, and we've seen evidence of his mercy and grace. If a son asks for bread, his dad won't toss him a stone. The heavenly Father will respond to our requests in the right way and at the right time.
Why are we shocked when a fellow believer succumbs to temptation—or when we ourselves come under spiritual attack? God's people have traveled this pathway many times before. Have we forgotten that the Bible says, "No temptation has seized you except what is common to man" (1 Corinthians 10:13)?
Why does it startle us when a sermon hits home and touches our hearts? Don't we believe that "all Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness" (2 Timothy 3:16)? It should come as no surprise when the Bible addresses our deepest needs.
Are we surprised when time passes swiftly and we find ourselves staring death in the face? Doesn't the Bible tell us that life is a mist that quickly vanishes—a flower that quickly fades? Every generation since Adam has experienced death. That's why Christians are in the business we're in: offering the presence of the risen Christ to an otherwise hopeless world.
Why are we stunned when the Lord seems far away? Didn't God's prophets feel this way at times? Didn't his own Son cry out, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" Spiritual loneliness is excruciating, but it's hardly a new experience. We've been there before. We've encountered the Lord's presence in the valleys as well as the mountains, amid the jolts as well as the joys.
The apostle Paul offers wise counsel: "Whatever happens, conduct yourselves in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ" (Philippians 1:27). No matter what happens in the year ahead, the Lord won't be the least bit surprised. He's been there before.
This column first appeared in The Lookout on Dec 27, 2009.
We Had Hoped
Last winter a dozen West Virginia miners were trapped after an explosion filled their mineshaft with toxic gas. Rescue workers sprang into action, loved ones kept vigil at a church nearby, and an anxious nation waited to hear about the miners' condition. In the middle of the night word came that most of them had survived, and the good news spread quickly. Church bells rang and hastily printed newspaper headlines read, "Miners Alive!" Tragically though, the initial reports were wrong. All but one of the trapped miners died, and the one survivor was pulled from the mine in critical condition.
We'll See
When I was a young boy, my parents said it often—usually when I had asked for permission to do something outside the normal boundaries.