Maybe this is unique to me, but I doubt it. In fact, it deals with doubt.

Have you ever thought yourself straight into doubt and disbelief? I have. For example:

I look at the world that God has created, marvel at its beauty, then think about the first words of the book of Genesis (“In the beginning God created . . .”), and get derailed by the mind-blowing concept of eternity.

I think of God’s amazing love for us by sending His only Son, who was “the Word [that] became flesh” (John 1:14) and my mind implodes. How is that possible?

I ponder the concept of the Trinity, all one God yet each distinct, and my mind reels.

I often feel like that student in The Far Side cartoon who wants to be excused because his brain is full.

It is easy to get caught up with the idea that “man is the measure of all things,” a concept the ancient Greek philosopher Protagoras asserted, interpreted to mean that man, rather than God, is “the ultimate source of value” and by extension the ultimate source of wisdom. So it is easy to believe that if we can’t logically understand something then it cannot be true. But this is just not the case, as God himself has told us:

"For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
    neither are your ways my ways,”
declares the Lord.

"As the heavens are higher than the earth,
    so are my ways higher than your ways
    and my thoughts than your thoughts.
My thoughts are not your thoughts."
Isaiah 55:8-9

And this is a good thing, a very good thing, because we don’t have to understand the “peace that surpasses all understanding” in order to experience it.

We don’t have to grasp the width and breadth of God’s love for us to be enveloped by it.

We don’t have to make sense of God’s claims in order to benefit from them.

If we had a God we could totally understand, then we would have a God that is as petty and self-serving and as limited as we ourselves are. And we need a bigger God than this. We need one who is merciful and gracious to forgive us, but who is also holy and just to right all wrongs. We need a God of wonders.

I love to golf, and while I play primarily with my women friends, there are quite a few occasions where I play with men. This is a very interesting experience as men golfers who play with women golfers fall into one of three categories.

First . . . the "must coach you" man

For some reason, regardless of their ability, some men think they know more about everything than women do (or maybe it's everybody else), and so, even if they have only watched golf on TV and have only picked up a club in the past year, they feel they know a whole lot more about the game than you do. So if you should ever mishit a ball, they will come to your rescue, whether you want them to or not.

Second . . . the "must beat you" man

I love playing with men when my friend Deanna is with me because then I get a double pleasure. First, she is a single digit handicapper so I get to watch some beautiful golf, and second, I get to see some men squirm and justify themselves out of what really is their normal game. It goes a bit like this. They hit a pretty decent shot off the tee, and then take a little strut back to their cart. Then Deanna hits her drive and first their mouths drop open and then their faces fall, and as they drive by we can hear them mutter ( purposely loud enough for us to hear) … “I didn’t get all of that one.” Unfortunately, they did get all of that one and that one was their best drive of the day!

Third … the "we truly appreciate you" man

Then there is the third group, the largest group I am happy to say, who just love to golf, appreciate good golf, and don’t tie their ego to who wins or is the better player. I have played with many men like this, and let me tell you, it is a pleasure as everyone is complimenting everyone else during the round and a good time is had by all.

I didn’t write this to belittle certain men. I wrote this because we all do this or feel this in one area of our life or another. Even if we know little about the problem or situation, we feel compelled to tell a person what to do. If we feel we are pretty proficient in an area and someone shows up who is better, we often want to justify our visible weakness or claim it is an anomaly.

What we really should be doing is 1) knowing and accepting our limitations, 2) humbling ourselves, and 3) appreciating the gifts others have.

“There are different kinds of gifts, but the same Spirit distributes them. There are different kinds of service, but the same Lord. There are different kinds of working, but in all of them and in everyone it is the same God at work.” (1 Corinthians 12:4-6)

I know You're able and I know You can
Save through the fire with Your mighty hand
But even if You don't
My hope is You alone
(MercyMe’s “Even If”)

The above chorus is the writer’s affirmation that even in the face of trials and tribulations, he still trusts that God can deliver him even if He chooses not to.

The song is derived from Daniel 3:17-18, when Meshach, Shadrach, and Abednego refused to bow down to King Nebuchadezzar, even under threat of being thrown into a real fire. Their exact words were as follows:

“If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to deliver us from it, and he will deliver us from Your Majesty's hand. But even if he does not, we want you to know, Your Majesty, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up.”

I never expected to witness the literal meaning of those verses, but that time came just about two weeks ago when my town erupted in flames one night and tens of thousands had to evacuate their homes. As the fire moved west and neighborhoods became safe again, some were able to return to their homes while others had no homes to return to.

My home was on the east side of the freeway while the fire was on the west, so while there was a day of concern, it soon became apparent that my home would remain safe. I wasn’t in the fire. I am still singing from unaffected safety.

But there are others who aren’t. Those whose homes were in the flames fell on both sides of this chorus. Some homes were saved while others were lost. It is very hard to understand why, but these individuals have experienced God’s saving or restrained hand in the midst of the fire.  Only God knows why he saved some and allowed others to burn, and we may never know, but I am hoping that those who know Christ can still sing those last two lines, and those who don’t might come to know that in the midst of life’s various fires, our hope truly is in Him alone.

Today is my brother’s birthday. I don’t know how many of you have a brother, but they can be a mixed blessing, can’t they? My brother is about two years older than I am, but I think brothers are brothers. Can anyone else relate to the following?

Growing up, he would bounce the basketball off of my head or other body part and claim I would have to go retrieve it because it hit me last.

When I entered high school as a freshman and he was a junior, he told everyone I was his cousin, not his sister.

He would come into my bedroom in the morning and either wake me up by lifting the foot of the bed and dropping it multiple times or flipping the light switch on and off until my eyeballs rolled backward. (No idea why he was awake before I was.)

Often he would grab me by my legs and drag me across miles of shag carpeting till I got rug burns, or take the other extreme and pin me down and tickle me until it hurt.

Though I could add a few more, lest you think he only tortured me, let me share a few other experiences.

One night he came in, woke me up (for which I yelled at him), then handed me an acoustic guitar and case that he bought for me out of the blue. (Kept my mouth shut after that.)

When I graduated from college, he rented a private plane (and pilot) to fly him and his fiancé to my graduation. (No idea where he got that money as he was working for the IRS at the time. Hmmmm.) Then he volunteered to drive me the five hours home. This was before the accelerator cable broke, and he then had to keep one hand on the steering wheel while the other worked the cable—for five hours!

A couple of years ago, he and his wife got up at three in the morning to sit on the Denver airport tarmac while their plane was deiced, then take off through a blizzard, just to surprise me for my birthday.

Then just this past week, while we were both visiting my parents, he rode/drove with me on a one-day, eleven-hour, round-trip drive so that I could make sure my home was OK. Though friends had told me the fire had moved west, I needed to see for myself. He never questioned––just volunteered.

God has blessed me with wonderful parents and incredible sisters, but He also has given me an incredibly wonderful, protective, thoughtful, and sometimes pain in the backside brother, whom I love very, very much. Happy Birthday, Doug!