“Cast out the scoffer and contention will leave; yes, strife and reproach will cease.” –verse 10
The scoffer not always stands across the room or sits beside the elbow. Sometimes the scoffer looks back at you from the mirror.
There are times I have scoffed at the Lord. Like promises made to Biblical brothers, I roll my eyes or cast my gaze away–it is impossible.
“But nothing is impossible with God,” the Spirit whispers. And though there may be a thaw happening in my heart, the fear of the impossible can result in scoffing at God. A dangerous place, the seat of the scoffer.
Who am I to think that God does’t really mean what He says? Who am I to think the impossible isn’t for me? About a week ago, I paced through the apartment–a habit of mine when the thoughts are too fast for my heart to keep up–and God showed me time and time again where the odds were ridiculous against me…and He delivered.
That car wreck in 1997? The one where a van rolled on my head and I walked away with nothing more than need for a bath and a minor headache?
Or when I fell down that cliff when I was four–at a family reunion, no less–and not only did I have no injuries, neither did my father who went down after me.
What about that time that guy followed me, driving alone, through the darkened city, in and out of alleyways for miles and miles with his truck brights searing through my civic back windshield–until I came upon a police station and he broke off the pursuit?
Or when that work situation resolved itself when I obeyed and said nothing?
Or when I was searching for a church and He brought three confirmations in the span of two pastoral sentences, and added a fourth confirmation on the way out of the parking lot?
Or that time on a mission trip in Mexico when one-pound of ground beef, three carrots, two beef bullion cubes, and a stalk of celery fed 21 teenagers and twenty-something youth leaders–not once, but with second and third servings? All to the shock of the two teens tasked with making dinner that night–of which I was one. I prayed over that pot of “stew” as we stirred, begging for a fishes and loaves miracle (but not really believing in one)–and He gave us so much more. Only after the meal was eaten and the tummies were full did we reveal the contents of the pot. And it silenced our youth pastor.
Or that one time…
Or the other time…
And then there was that one thing…
And the other one…
For about an hour the memories came. And the smile came. And He reminded me–He is the God of the impossible, for nothing is impossible with Him.
Not only does He ask that I believe it, He showed me the myriad ways He already delivered it.
Remove the scoffer and the contention will leave.
Image by Zsuzsanna Kilian