Tag: Healing

The Great Exchange

Justin Hibbard

Over the past few weeks, our Nation has once again experienced the tragedy of mass shootings.  From the strip of Las Vegas to a Christian college campus to another high school, it seems like no place is sanctuary for this epidemic of bloodshed.

Once again these stories have thrusted a renewed effort to solve the problem.  Talking heads and politicians flood the airwaves proposing legislation and renewing their passion for seeking an end to this horrific violence.  Some quickly point the finger, blaming guns, the NRA, the movie industry, violent video games, and mental illness.  While one group vows to strip America of its gun culture, another group will make it easier for people to carry guns on the street and into the classroom.

While I am not a gun owner, I know that guns are not the root issue to this frightening violent America.  It seems prudent to institute measures that would keep guns out of the wrong hands, but in these shootings, most of the perpetrators did not legally own the guns they possessed and used them in gun free zones.  Guns have made it easier to escalate carnage, but there is something much deeper that is ailing us: the wicked and hurting heart that would want to inflict pain on another.

At Church, we recently finished studying the Book of Hosea.  Having been assigned Hosea chapter 4, I was particularly struck with how God takes note of Israel’s bloodshed and corruption.  Canaan looked more like Compton than Zion.  God describes His promised land, saying, “There is only cursing, lying and murder, stealing and adultery; they break all bounds, and bloodshed follows bloodshed.  Because of this the land dries up, and all who live in it waste away” (Hosea 4:2-3).

In other words, God appeals to them by evaluating the results of their godless quest.  “You wanted a society where you dictated how God fit in, and now you have it.  How’s it working out for you?”

The problem in Israel was never that they totally abandoned the One True God.  The problem was that they tried to fit Him in with everything else, stuffing Him into their idolatry and immorality-crammed society.  The heresy of the golden calf wasn’t that they invented a new god.  It was that they claimed that a man-made statue carried the name, acts, and attributes of Elohim.  In other words, they tried to redefine God by limiting Him to their invention.  Paul was spot on when he said, “[they] exchanged the glory of the immortal God for images made to look like a mortal human being and birds and animals and reptiles…  They exchanged the truth about God for a lie, and worshiped and served created things rather than the Creator” (Romans 1:23, 25).

I would venture to say that the overwhelming majority of our nation does not want a godless society.  However, what they do want is, like Israel, to dictate and direct where God fits.  Society wants God’s blessing, but they also want their separate space.  Like a director filming a movie, society picks and chooses where to place God.  “Stand here while we sing together and ask you to bless America.  Let’s make a statue depicting you as a baby meek and mild because we like infant Jesus.  But politics, the public square, and public schools?  Sorry God, you don’t belong there.  And by the way, we’re not interested in your ideas of holiness.  Like your idea of salvation, they’re too exclusive for our tolerant society.”

This is the great exchange.  It should be familiar to us.  The story of Eden is about the great exchange.  Adam and Eve had one life and traded it for another.  They chose to ignore one truth in exchange for a lie.  Every time we sin, we do the same.  Everytime we believe that a moral, peaceful world can be obtained through legislation, or programs, or other manmade ideas, and preach a gospel of secularization, we make a trade.  It’s a trade that has consequences.  As history has always proven, we will reap what we sow.

The question isn’t should America be legislated by Christian principles?  The question is does the great exchange – the one where we trade God for something else – ever work in the end?  Does secularism ever pay off?  How is it working out so far?

The all-too-familiar scenario where a troubled kid walks into a school and starts shooting isn’t a gun problem.  It’s a sin problem.  That child is a product of a fallen world.  In some cases, he has been deeply wounded by someone in his life.  In some cases, he has a serious mental illness.  In many cases, it’s a combination of both.  He too will make an exchange.  He will trade the miraculous healing power of the Prince of Peace for the notion that he can solve his pain and deep wounds by wounding others.  Thousands of people will believe the lie that they can end pain by ending their life.  The only difference between them and these murderers are how many they take down with them.

Every piece of gun control legislation and safety policy that could possibly be conjured up in the aftermath of these massacres will only be a band-aid.  Every code red drill that will take place in schools will help mitigate the loss of life, but it will not solve the problem.  There is only One who promises to cure the root cause of all of this evil.  He is the One who healed the deep wounds of unforgiveness and the serious mental illnesses that plagued the outcast in His society.

As people who have been changed by Jesus, we know this.  We know what Jesus is capable of doing.  When Peter addressed the crowd at Pentecost, he said, “Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins. And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. The promise is for you and your children and for all who are far off—for all whom the Lord our God will call… Save yourselves from this corrupt generation” (Acts 2:38-40).

Church, may our eyes be open.  May we see that right now around us Satan is waging war.  His cause is to steal our peace, kill our children, and destroy our world.  He wants people to buy into the lie that the only thing we need is guns or more gun control, more government oversight of mental illness, and more security in the public square.  He wants us to believe that the band-aids dismiss the need for the Healer.  The band-aids may help, but they will not heal.  The church is called to preach the necessity of God’s salvation, no matter what our government may or may not do.  May we, the church, have the courage to stand up and preach the Gospel of Truth as Peter did.  Man’s solutions cannot be exchanged for God’s.  True shalom – the peace, healing, and love our souls crave – can only be found in Jesus.

Seeing Hope

Justin Hibbard

Two years ago this very day, my wife gave birth to a baby who had died in utero. The baby, who we named Hope, was only fourteen weeks. The doctors and nurses cleaned her up and allowed us to spend some time with her, saying our goodbyes. We cried and prayed over her. And though we had left the hospital on three other occasions carrying a newborn, this time we left empty-handed and empty-hearted.

The next year was particularly difficult for my wife Karlene. She asked many tough questions to which I didn’t have any answers. I wanted to solve her hurt, but nothing I could say or do could bring about relief. Indeed I had questions of my own that I buried deep down in the depths of my soul.

Ten months after the miscarriage, I made a trek to Colorado for a retreat at John Eldridge’s “Wild at Heart” men’s ministry. While there, I spent a lot of alone time praying and asking God to open my heart and heal the wounds of my past. In dramatic fashion, the Lord gave me stunning visions of His glory and spoke to my hurts and insecurities.

On one afternoon, while I was deep in prayer and meditation on the hillside nestled in the Rocky Mountains, the Lord gave me a vision. It is a vision I have only shared with my wife up until this point. In this vision, I was standing at the top of a waterfall looking down. Jesus was gently whispering, “Run strong, Justin.” I knew I was meant to jump, but I didn’t have the courage. Suddenly, Jesus ran up from behind me and grabbed me around the chest and jumped off the ledge with me. Instead of falling to the depths of the water, we soared like an eagle while He held me tightly.

Down the windy river we flew until we ended up gently stopping on a river bank some distance from the waterfall. Surrounding me was a lush, green country hillside. Beside me, a calm blue stream flowed ever so slowly. Where I stood, the river had narrowed to a mere small stream only a few feet wide. With a small leap, I could have easily crossed it.

Suddenly, Jesus was standing on the other side of the river from me. I looked at Him, and then I looked at His side. There standing beside Him on His left, holding His hand, stood a little girl. She was a young child – maybe eight or nine. She had long straight, dark hair with strands that blew gently in the breeze. Her face was soft, beautiful, and innocent.

The moment I laid eyes on her, I knew it was her. It was my Hope. Even 14 months later, I can still picture her – that moment I saw her standing with Jesus.

In my vision, tears welled up in my eyes. I wanted to hold her; I wanted to ask Jesus all sorts of questions. I couldn’t muster the words. It was as if seeing them brought this amazing sense of peace, in spite of all the unanswered questions and the deep pain. Then, as if her and Jesus’ voice mended together, they said, “I’m waiting for you. Run strong.” Jesus turned, and without any instruction, Hope turned and followed Him.” The two moved together so in-sync, it was as if Hope had been with Him for a lifetime.

As Jesus and Hope faded away in the distance, I noticed that standing beside me was my wife and three children. My hands were around their shoulders. My wife was leaning against my chest – her arms wrapped around my torso. Behind us stood a tiny cottage house.

I slowly opened my eyes, wishing I could stay in this vision forever, hoping that I would never lose the memory of seeing my little girl.

It’s been two years now since we said our final goodbyes to Hope. It’s been over a year since the Lord gave me that vision of her. I struggle to share this very intimate vision publicly. I fear that people will pass this very real and significant experience off as nonsense. It’s a vision I still don’t totally understand. Perhaps one day the nuances will become something symbolically significant – I don’t know. Perhaps someone will explain to me what this vision means better than what I can understand myself.

In the past two years, we’ve been able to minister to those who have also suffered the painful loss of a child. I grieve for those who hurt so intensely. What I discovered that day in Colorado is that healing does not come with answers. Peace and healing came that day through a miraculous encounter with the Prince of Peace – the Great Shalom. Only He has the amazing ability to tame the troubled heart and make wild the lifeless one. In seeing Him, I was given a “peace that surpasses understanding.” It is a peace not dependent on having questions answered but through encountering a Savior and Friend who holds my heart deep within His.