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This week I want to tell you about a strange pattern I noticed during my years of coaching on the WTA tour. I would sit with a player after a match she had just won and ask her what she saw. She had hit forty winners. She had served brilliantly under pressure. She had solved opportunity after opportunity for two hours in front of thousands of people. When she answered me, she spoke about none of it. Instead, she spoke about the three backhands she missed in the second set. This was not one player. This was nearly all of them. Some of the most gifted human beings I have ever stood next to could look directly at their own brilliance and see only the cracks in it. Over time I realized this pattern was not a tennis problem. It is a human one. In fact, it may be the most universal habit I have ever encountered in my work, and the one that is quietly shaping more lives than almost anything else I know.
When you're scheduled as a guest on a podcast, it's typical for the host to send you a questionnaire ahead of time. It helps establish expectations and gives the conversation a framework to work from. Recently, I received one that asked how I would teach Fortune 500 leaders the systems and processes that everyone could use to produce better results. Ultimately, I declined the interview, but the question stayed with me because I think it highlights something we need to pay attention to. We love systems. And for good reason. Systems, processes, and protocols are important. They create consistency. They help us govern what we've learned. They let us repeat what works and help others benefit from what we've discovered.
"For when I am weak, then I am strong" (2 Cor. 12:10). Paul's statement here seems to make no sense—or, worse, appears to be a contradiction. After all, weakness and strength are opposites. Whether it's our physical bodies, our cognitive abilities, our emotional health, or our socioeconomic position, we understand that strength in these areas is good and that weakness is bad. But as with many other things in the kingdom of God, what seems to be a contradiction is actually a paradox in God's redemptive plan (see, for example, the Beatitudes in Matt. 5:1–12). What does 2 Corinthians 12:9–10 teach about how God views weakness and strength, and how can its truths be manifested in our own lives to His glory and our good?
Do you believe in the power of faith to receive miracles? Or does your human reasoning resist God's supernatural ways? Do you readily surrender to His Spirit? Or do you lock arms against Him? There are many Christians today that believe in Jesus, but they don't believe Him. They believe just enough to receive eternal life in Heaven but shun abundant life while on this earth. And then they wonder where God in their time of need is. For a large sector of God's people, it is more comfortable for them to say this sickness or disease comes from God, then to trust in His word and declare, "By His stripes we are healed." Many would rather live a precarious spiritual life, then abide in the safety of the Almighty. But when calamity comes, and it does come on this fallen earth they shake their fist at God and ask, "Why?"
If someone asked you to name the most anointed, Spirit-filled individual in the entire Old Testament, who would come to mind? Abraham, the father of faith? Moses, the deliverer of Israel? David, the man after God's own heart? Those are all remarkable answers. But what if I told you that the first person in all of Scripture to be explicitly described as filled with the Spirit of God was an artist? His name was Bezalel — and his story carries a revelation for every creative person, every minister, and every believer who has ever wondered whether God truly cares about beauty, craftsmanship, and the arts.
In the last few years, I believe that G-D has been spiritually refocusing my heart. I am just as committed to Yeshua and to serving in G-D's Kingdom as I have ever been. I have not changed my core beliefs in Yeshua being the Messiah or in the absoluteness of G-D's Word. But as the world seems to spiral into greater moral chaos, and as more and more people twist G-D's Word to fit their heart's desires instead of turning their hearts toward G-D's desires, I have concluded that, in many ways, we, the body of believers, have been much less effective than we could have been. I believe this is the result of a misdirection of our focus, efforts, and energies.
Throughout history, God has raised up servants to preserve His purposes on Earth, chosen to stand against the advance of evil and deception. Before darkness can move beyond its appointed boundaries, the Lord establishes barriers and governing authorities to contain its influence and prevent its premature manifestation. Paul alluded to this mystery when he wrote, "And now you know what is restraining, that he may be revealed in his own time" (2 Thess. 2:6). The mystery of lawlessness was already at work in Paul's day, yet it was restrained until the appointed time set by God.
Have you ever been halfway through a conversation when you suddenly realized that you weren't listening at all? You were looking at the person. You were nodding at all the appropriate moments. You might have even thrown in an occasional "uh-huh" or "I understand." But if you are honest, your mind was already crafting your response. You were preparing your defense, gathering your thoughts, or deciding exactly what you wanted to say next. I think we've all been there. Recently, I was spending time in James chapter 1, and one verse seemed to leap off the page and settle deeply into my heart. James writes, "Everyone must be quick to hear, slow to speak and slow to anger" (James 1:19). What a simple verse. And yet, what a challenging one.
I think sometimes we have the wrong idea about what it means for God to save us. We pray for God to keep the bad thing from happening. Keep us from getting sick. Keep the person we love from dying. Keep the relationship from ending. Keep us from losing the job. Keep the diagnosis from coming. Keep our children safe. Keep the world from becoming more violent and divided. In other words, we pray for God to keep the fire away from us. And sometimes that happens. But sometimes it doesn't.
"Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is an offensive way in my way, and lead me in the way everlasting." Psalm 139:23-24 The small warning light flickered on the dashboard just as the highway merged into heavy morning traffic. For a few miles, the temptation was simply to ignore the tiny orange glow and turn up the radio, hoping the engine trouble would fix itself. But experienced drivers know that a warning light is never an enemy. It is a quiet mercy. It tells you about a hidden problem before you find yourself stranded on the shoulder miles from home.
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