How we choose to deal with trouble and suffering (i.e., tzuris) makes all the difference. We may be tempted to bitterness over our lives, but then what? To paraphrase Soren Kierkegaard, the way of life is “how” more than it is “what.” You may be powerless to control reality, but you are nevertheless responsible for how you respond to it. Check your attitude. Do you chose to live in lament over a healing that has not yet happened, or perhaps regard yourself as a hapless victim? Or will you attempt to justify your suffering as a means of personal atonement, accepting it passively as a “good child” or martyr? Does your suffering stretch your heart, or does it cause you to shrink back in fear or self-pity?
In this connection, recall that when the Jews came to Marah, they “could not drink the water because it was bitter” (Exod. 15:23). The Hebrew, however, could be read, “they could not drink the water because they (i.e., the people) were bitter (כִּי מָרִים הֵם). The problem is often not “out there” but within the heart (Matt. 15:19-20). How we choose to see, in other words, says more about us than it does the external world. If you make the mistake of reading the daily news and taking it seriously, you will see only ugliness, and you run the risk of becoming hardhearted. Worldly despair eclipses apprehension of the Presence of God….
We have to use ayin tovah, “a good eye,” whenever we encounter the inevitable (and ubiquitous) adversities of life. Instead of seeing ourselves as victims of undeserved trouble, and instead of harboring resentment over the past and entertaining fear of the future, we must learn to see adversity in the light of faith that teaches lessons about finding resilience and hope. Faith affirms that adversity has an end that is ultimately good. Faith will not bow the knee to dark visions and live in dread of worldly fate.
It’s been said, “hurt people hurt people,” which means that if healing is not found for our woundedness, our pain will likely “leak out” as depression and hostility toward others… Finding inner peace is therefore crucial lest we become poisoned through a “root of bitterness” that defiles many (Heb. 12:15). The worst sort of prison is the one we make for ourselves, by choosing to be taken captive by fear and anger. May the Lord show us mercy and help us grow in grace and in the knowledge of his heart in all things. Amen.


Part of the meaning of teshuvah (i.e., “repentance”), at least for some of us, is learning to trust and believe in love…. If you were abandoned as a child, for instance, you were deprived of the security, nurture, and basic human connection you needed to partake in love. Instead of acquiring a sense of belonging and acceptance your soul desperately needed, you inherited a sense of shame that taught that you were inherently unlovable and unworthy. Consequently, as you grew up, you may have found it difficult to trust or ask others for help; you might have turned inward, relying only on yourself, protecting yourself from further pain. You may have became lonely, filled with sadness, anger, and fear. Ironically and tragically, as you protected yourself from abandonment you made your heart hard and numb, and that led to the abandonment of yourself….

The Torah of Moses teaches that a defect-free male lamb must be sacrificed and roasted at the appointed time every year, eaten with matzah and bitter herbs, as a memorial of the redemption from Egypt (Num. 9:2, Deut. 16:1-8) — yet today, after the ministry and sacrificial death of Yeshua as the Lamb of God, we no longer perform the sacrificial rite of the Passover given to the Levites on behalf of Israel. We do not offer a lamb for sacrifice not because there is no Temple to offer such sacrifices, but because we have a greater priesthood based on the sworn oath of God that predates the Levitical priesthood in the life of the Messiah (Psalm 110:4). This is explained in the Book of Hebrews, chapter seven, which explains that “if perfection had been attainable through the Levitical priesthood (for under it the people received the law), what further need would there have been for another priest to arise after the order of Melchizedek, rather than one named after the order of Aaron? But when there is a change in the priesthood, there is necessarily a change in the law as well” (Heb. 7:11-12). The bottom line is that the promised new covenant (בּרית חדשׁה) of God centers on the sacrificial ministry of Yeshua as our Great High Priest, and this covenant provides a new way – “not according to the covenant made with the fathers at Sinai after the Exodus” – to be in right relationship with God (Jer. 31:31-34; Heb. 8:1-13). “And when Messiah had offered for all time a single sacrifice for sins, he sat down at the right hand of God, waiting from that time until his enemies should be made a footstool for his feet. For by one offering He has perfected forever those being sanctified” (Heb. 10:14).
Right now, if you are seeing this, affirm that the Lord Yeshua is your deliverer and that you trust in Him for eternal life. As he promised: “I tell you the solemn truth, the one who hears my message and believes in the One who sent me has (i.e., present active indicative) eternal life and will not be condemned, but has passed over (literally, “crossed over”) from death to life” (John 5:24). Note that the verb translated “has passed over” is “perfect active” that expresses completed action: “this one has already crossed over from death to life.” In other words, the gift of eternal life is an accomplished reality (though it is only experienced as we truly surrender to the love and grace of God from a heart of faith). The “basis” of life is now radically new and of a different order. As the apostle Paul later summarized: “For it is by grace you have been saved (i.e., a perfect passive participle that denotes completed action done on your behalf with effects that continue to the present) through faith, and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast” (Eph. 2:9-10). I’m so glad it’s not the strength of my grip that keeps me holding on to God, but the strength of His…



It is vital to affirm your identity as a beloved child of God… You may not always feel the connection, but you must choose it regardless of your present emotional state, because your place in God’s heart is a matter of truth, not sentimentality. Who you really are is grounded in the Reality and power of the LORD God of Israel.
We all struggle with sin in our lives, and each of us needs deliverance from various attachments and fears that keep us from the deeper life… The problem is within ourselves, that is, the contradiction of heart we experience in our double-mindedness, our ambivalence, and our unbelief (Jer. 17:9). We may recite the Shema every day and say that we love God with all our being, but in the ordinary moments of daily life we are drawn to other concerns, alien affections, other “gods.” Indeed, whatever matters most to us, whatever consumes our attention, time, resources, and our interest, is something we “worship,” that is, something we esteem as worthy and valuable…
“Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you” (James 4:8). There are no conditions given here — other than your honest need to connect with God for help. “Purify your hearts, you double-minded ones” (δίψυχοι, lit. “two-souled ones”); make up your mind and be unified within your heart: “How long will you go limping between two different opinions?” (1 Kings 18:21). You are invited to come; God has made the way; your place at the table has been set and prepared. “Let us draw near with a sincere heart in full assurance of faith (ἐν πληροφορίᾳ πίστεως), with our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water. Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful” (Heb. 10-22-23).
Yeshua forewarned that just before the End of Days, “many shall be offended, and shall betray one another, and shall hate one another” (Matt. 24:10). What dreadful people, you might imagine… what terrible depravity will mark that time! And yet here we are today, with so many crusading for their own personal sense of victimhood, demanding special treatment, and threatening retaliation for being treated unfairly… It must be remembered, however, that whenever we decry offence in others, we may be reflecting the evil within ourselves (Matt. 7:1-5). What is this evil within you ask? How about being intolerant toward those who differ from us? How about be impatient – refusing to allow others to share their perspectives? Indeed, how many of us make the demand that others be “perfect” but turn a blind eye to our own imperfections? And what about the sin of unforgiveness? What about our attitude of suspicion — using the “evil eye” regarding others’ motives – looking for something impure – rather than extending to them the benefit of the doubt? Do you carry resentment with your heart? Do you hold on to a grudge over a real (or imagined) insult from the past? Do you harbor the desire to seek revenge? All of these evil attitudes reveal a hard heart – and failing to remember that all that is good in your life comes exclusively by the mercy of God alone… When you feel offended, look within and carefully consider the assumptions at work in your thinking. Ask whether your indignation is based on the truth of God or something else. Are you demanding: “My will be done, in heaven as it is on earth?” Are you seeking your own vision, or surrendering to the truth of Reality?
To be a human being is a paradox, caught between the realms of the infinite and nothingness; a union of endless possibility yet terminating limitation. Man desires to live forever but is conscious that one day he will die. He is an incongruity – a mix of flesh and spirit, saint and sinner, good and evil, angel and animal… A spirituality that demands for us to be always happy, always “up,” is therefore dishonest, since the truth is grounded in what is real, and that includes both the miserable and the tragic as well as the joyful and sublime. It’s not that there is no difference between good and evil within the heart, but both are part of who we really are. It is the bittersweet struggle, the process of walking as “saintly sinners,” “holy fools,” “dying immortals,” and so on, that defines us. We must embrace our brokenness, in order to become whole; there is no healing without true confession of our need. Therefore we come to the paradoxical cross – the place of utter pain, separation, and death – to find healing, acceptance and life.