Things Not Seen: A Fresh Look at Old Stories of Trusting God's Promises
God is doing far more than we can see in our pain.We plead for God's deliverance from our pain and wonder why he keeps letting it go on. We are not alone. A cloud of witnesses surrounds us and they help us understand. In these 35 creative retellings of Bible stories, Jon Bloom explores the hope and joy that Abraham, Moses, Naomi, John the Baptist, and others experienced in the painful process of discovering that God's promises really are more trustworthy than our perceptions.
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Things Not Seen: A Fresh Look at Old Stories of Trusting God's Promises
God is doing far more than we can see in our pain.We plead for God's deliverance from our pain and wonder why he keeps letting it go on. We are not alone. A cloud of witnesses surrounds us and they help us understand. In these 35 creative retellings of Bible stories, Jon Bloom explores the hope and joy that Abraham, Moses, Naomi, John the Baptist, and others experienced in the painful process of discovering that God's promises really are more trustworthy than our perceptions.
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Things Not Seen: A Fresh Look at Old Stories of Trusting God's Promises

Things Not Seen: A Fresh Look at Old Stories of Trusting God's Promises

by Jon Bloom

Narrated by Jon Bloom

Unabridged — 4 hours, 27 minutes

Things Not Seen: A Fresh Look at Old Stories of Trusting God's Promises

Things Not Seen: A Fresh Look at Old Stories of Trusting God's Promises

by Jon Bloom

Narrated by Jon Bloom

Unabridged — 4 hours, 27 minutes

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Overview

God is doing far more than we can see in our pain.We plead for God's deliverance from our pain and wonder why he keeps letting it go on. We are not alone. A cloud of witnesses surrounds us and they help us understand. In these 35 creative retellings of Bible stories, Jon Bloom explores the hope and joy that Abraham, Moses, Naomi, John the Baptist, and others experienced in the painful process of discovering that God's promises really are more trustworthy than our perceptions.

Product Details

BN ID: 2940173928801
Publisher: EChristian, Inc.
Publication date: 03/31/2016
Edition description: Unabridged

Read an Excerpt

CHAPTER 1

YOUR SIN IS NO MATCH FOR GOD'S GRACE

JOSEPH'S BROTHERS AND GRACE

Based mainly on Genesis 45

THE OLD HYMN SAYS it beautifully: "Grace, grace, God's grace; grace that is greater than all my sin."

But the grace of God is not only great enough to "pardon and cleanse within." It is so powerful, as Joseph's older brothers learned in Genesis 45, that it can take the most horrible sin that you have ever committed against another, or that has ever been committed against you, and make it the slave of God's mercy.

* * *

"What do you mean he's alive?" Jacob had no place to put Reuben's words.

"I know it's unbelievable, Father," Reuben replied. "We hardly believe it, and we saw him with our own eyes. The Egyptian lord — the one who demanded that we bring Benjamin — he is Joseph. He's not only alive, he's ..." Reuben stumbled over the strange sentence. "He's now ruling Egypt for Pharaoh."

Jacob squinted skeptically. A son dead for two decades is not easily resurrected. "You are cruel to tell me such a thing unless you have no doubt."

"I have no doubt, Father. It's going to take hours to tell you everything. But we spoke with him. We ate with him in his house."

Simeon couldn't resist: "He sat us around the table in the order of our births! Before any of us knew who he was! We thought he was a magician."

"And you should have seen how much food he placed before Benjamin!" joked Zebulun, giving Benjamin's head an affectionate push.

Reuben continued, "He told us himself, Father: 'I am your brother, Joseph.' We responded just like you are now. I thought he was tricking us. But after talking to him for hours, there's no doubt. It's him. And the first thing he wanted to know was, 'Is my father still alive?'" (Gen 45:3).

Jacob's stony expression didn't change, though his eyes overflowed. He moved them from son to son, lingering on Benjamin, and returning to Reuben. "But you showed me his bloody robe. He was attacked by a wild animal. If he survived, why didn't he ever come home? Why would he go to Egypt? Joseph would never have forsaken me."

The moment had come — the one they had dreaded the whole way home. For twenty-two years they had kept this festering wound of wickedness concealed from their father. But now God had exposed it. Shame bent the heads of nine sons. Judah was the exception. He had asked to break this news to their father. He had led in their sin. He would lead in owning it.

"Joseph didn't forsake you, Father," said Judah, stepping forward. "He was forsaken. No, worse, he was betrayed."

Jacob stared at Judah. "Betrayed by whom?"

Judah pushed hard the heavy words. "By his own brothers. Brothers who hated him for having his father's favor. Brothers who hated him for having God's favor. In all honesty, we actually talked of killing him, but decided instead to profit from his demise. We sold him to Ishmaelite traders who were on their way to Egypt. To my lasting and terrible shame, Father, that was my idea — to sell my own brother as a slave. The blood on his robe was goat's blood. We were the wild animals."

Jacob sat down. Anger and hope churned together in his soul. The silence was long.

Judah broke it by saying softly, "His dream came true." Jacob looked up again. "Joseph's dream: it came true," continued Judah. "All eleven of us bowed down before him in Egypt. We sold him into slavery because of his dream of ruling over us, never dreaming as we did it that we were helping bring it to pass."

Reuben added, "Joseph holds no bitterness, Father. You know what he told us? 'God sent me before you to preserve for you a remnant on earth, and to keep alive for you many survivors. So it was not you who sent me here, but God'" (Gen. 45:7–8).

"In fact," said Judah, "he wants us all to come live near him in Egypt to escape the famine. That's why we've brought all these wagons. He said, 'You must tell my father of all my honor in Egypt, and of all that you have seen. Hurry and bring my father down here'" (Gen. 45:13).

Jacob thought quietly for a long time. Then he shook his head and said, "It is enough; Joseph my son is still alive. I will go and see him before I die" (Gen. 45:28).

* * *

What Joseph's ten older brothers did to him was heinous. They made him the merchandise of international human trafficking. They subjected him to slavery and sexual abuse. They effectively threw him, with no rights or defense, into prison to rot.

But note Joseph's words: "It was not you who sent me here, but God" (Gen. 45:8). Neither treacherous siblings nor a woman's lust nor the shame of prison nor a cupbearer's neglect could thwart the purpose of God (Job 42:2) in preserving God's people (Gen. 45:7) and fulfilling God's promise (Gen. 15:13). God made evil the slave of his grace.

And he's doing the same for you. God is doing more good than you can imagine through the most painful experiences of your life.

If you've sinned against someone, do everything in your power to make things right. But know this: your sin is no match for God's grace.

And if you're facing the consequences of another's sin, take heart. Stay faithful. God knows, and he knows what he's doing. In time, you will see God turn what man means for evil into the slave of God's mercy.

"The one who has the bride is the bridegroom. The friend of the bridegroom, who stands and hears him, rejoices greatly at the bridegroom's voice. Therefore this joy of mine is now complete. He must increase, but I must decrease."

JOHN 3:29–30

CHAPTER 2

"HE MUST INCREASE, BUT I MUST DECREASE"

JOHN THE BAPTIST AND HUMILITY

Based on John 3:25–30

WE ALL WANT TO finish well, but so many of us do not. Why? Because we too easily cherish our roles in the Great Wedding more than the Wedding itself. This is why John the Baptist must become our mentor.

* * *

It was all a bit hard to comprehend.

John's disciples understood his mission. John was preparing the way for the Hope of Israel. The long-expected time was so close, and the anticipation was thrilling. And on that climactic day when Jesus appeared and John publicly proclaimed him the Messiah — the wonder could yield no words.

Yes, John's disciples understood his mission, but they hadn't expected to feel sidelined by it.

For the past year John had blazed across Judea like a shooting star, the first real prophet in Israel for four centuries. All eyes, from king to peasant, had been on him, and he called them all to account, including the self-righteous Pharisees. When John spoke, God moved, and people repented and were baptized. No one spoke like this man. From all over Palestine, people flocked to hear him. The oppressed, weary people of God, living under Tiberius's thumb and Antipas's corruption, had hope again.

John's disciples had been right in the middle of this remarkable move of God. Then, abruptly, they weren't. The surge moved past them toward Jesus. Of course, it was wrong to be envious of the Messiah. But still, how could their beloved rabbi — and they with him — suddenly be relegated to the periphery, after all that God had done through them?

They couldn't help but express their perplexity to John: "Rabbi, he who was with you across the Jordan, to whom you bore witness — look, he is baptizing, and all are going to him" (John 3:26).

John, who had been staring at the water, looked up at them. His intense eyes were filled with joy.

John said nothing for a moment. He felt compassion for them. He understood. He knew their inner conflict. He knew their sincere godly ambition for the kingdom. And he knew their selfish ambition to have prominent roles in it. He knew how the latter insidiously wove itself into the fabric of the former and how difficult it could be to discern one from the other. This was a moment of unraveling for them, of heart exposure.

John had spent a lifetime being prepared for his brief ministry of introduction. During his years in the wilderness, God ruthlessly exposed his deeply entrenched and multifaceted pride, and trained John to die to it. This discipline had brought about the peaceful fruit of the righteousness of faith. John learned to anticipate his replacement more than his own role. He learned to love the Bridegroom's appearing and not love the celebrity of being the Bridegroom's best man. But that shift in affection had not come easily.

Learning to love the Great Wedding more than their part in it would not come easily to John's disciples either. He knew they loved the Bridegroom, but their hearts required further recalibration. When the blessed Lord grants one a role to play, one must perform it faithfully, but never grasp it. The role is not the reward. The Lord is the reward.

With affectionate empathy, John replied, "A person cannot receive even one thing unless it is given him from heaven." He waved them to sit down beside him. "You yourselves bear me witness, that I said, 'I am not the Christ,' but have been sent before him. The one who has the bride is the bridegroom. The friend of the bridegroom, who stands and hears him, rejoices greatly at the bridegroom's voice. Therefore this joy of mine is now complete. He must increase, but I must decrease" (John 3:27–29).

* * *

Our role is not our reward, Jesus is. Roles will begin and they will end. The only way for us to end well is to have our hearts recalibrated. Jesus must increase and we must decrease.

What rises in your heart at the thought of Jesus giving another person a more prominent role in his Wedding? How much do you long to have a more prominent role? How well are you prepared to let go of the role he has given you? What if he gives another your role?

In our individual and temporary earthly roles, the Wedding is not about us. It's about Jesus and his bride. And we should never compete with the Bridegroom for the bride's attention and affection.

Then he said, "Let me go, for the day has broken." But Jacob said, "I will not let you go unless you bless me."

GENESIS 32:26

CHAPTER 3

"I WILL NOT LET YOU GO UNLESS YOU BLESS ME"

JACOB AND WRESTLING WITH GOD

Based on Genesis 32

IS THERE A FEAR staring you in the face right now? Are you shaking in your faith in God's promises? Are you praying desperately for God's help? Do not doubt; God will answer you. But you might, like Jacob in Genesis 32, be surprised by his answer.

* * *

Jacob leaned on his staff, staring at the stars. He was looking for hope. "Number the stars, if you are able to number them. ... So shall your offspring be" (Gen. 15:5). Yahweh had promised this to Father Abraham.

Jacob's body was tired, but his mind was restless. Daylight was approaching, and Esau with it.

He wrapped himself tighter in his cloak and squatted down. He was cold, and the fire had cooled to glowing coals. He stared at the ground. "Your offspring shall be like the dust of the earth" (Gen. 28:14). Yahweh had revealed this promise to him two decades ago, when all he carried to Haran was this staff.

Now he was returning home with eleven sons and a daughter, a God-blessed abundance of offspring, even if not yet as the dust of the earth.

But Esau was coming. And four hundred men were with him. Hadn't the fire of revenge cooled after twenty years? Four hundred men! This was more than enough to turn his beloved children into the dust of the earth.

Jacob prayed desperately. "O God of my father Abraham, God of my father Isaac, deliver me from Esau! You commanded me, 'Return to the land of your fathers and to your kindred.' And you promised, 'I will be with you' [see Gen. 31:3]. Yahweh! Four hundred men will wipe us out! Please! I need you with me!"

Just then, Jacob heard splashing. He looked up, squinting toward the Jabbok. A man was crossing the ford, heading in his direction. Jacob didn't recognize the determined gait. He stood. Fear shot through him. Esau? No. This wasn't Esau's stride. But he wasn't relieved. He knew this man was coming for him.

The stranger stopped three feet in front of Jacob. He looked strong. His eyes were intense and inscrutable. Neither man spoke. Jacob felt a familiar fear, but he couldn't place it. Had they met before?

Instinctively Jacob began to raise his staff in defense. With startling speed, the man wrenched it away and threw it aside. Jacob was more confused. What did he want? Then the stranger struck a stance every Semite boy would recognize. Wrestling was an ancient martial art, and this silent adversary wanted a contest. Jacob was perplexed, but knew he had no choice.

The men circled twice, eyeing each other. Then a twitch, an adrenaline rush, and the two locked in grappled combat. This nameless foe was powerful. Yet Jacob was surprised at his ability to counter him.

The longer they struggled, the more Jacob sensed that his opponent was no mere man. He now placed the familiar fear: it was what he felt at every encounter with Yahweh. And he began to understand that this wrestling was somehow connected to all that lay ahead of him tomorrow. Who was this? An angel? Was it God? Was this struggle an answered prayer?

The men broke apart, each leaning on his knees to catch his breath. They shared a glance of recognition. And a desperate resolve formed in Jacob. As a deceiver living among deceivers, Jacob had learned that God was the only rock that could support his trust. And the only real source of his hope was God's promised blessing. His life depended on it, now more than ever. God was now within his grasp. Jacob would not let him leave without obtaining his blessing.

The stranger's attention suddenly turned to the horizon. Light was glowing over the eastern hills. Jacob saw his moment. Darting quickly, he seized his opponent from behind and locked his hands around his chest. The challenger tried to free himself, but Jacob held fast. The man swung his fist down on Jacob's right hip. Jacob screamed as the pain exploded. His leg gave way, but his grip did not. He could endure pain, but he could not endure this day without God's blessing.

For the first time, the man spoke: "Let me go, for the day has broken." Wincing hard, Jacob whispered through clenched teeth, "I will not let you go unless you bless me." Instantly he felt the man yield. The contest was over. "What is your name?" the man asked. "Jacob," came a groan. "Your name shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with God and with men, and have prevailed."

Jacob crumpled to the ground and grabbed his hip. Striven with God? Panting, he said, "Please tell me your name." The man's eyes were intense with affection. He said, "Why is it that you ask my name?" And with that he turned and crossed back over the Jabbok.

* * *

Jacob began the night believing his greatest need was to escape from Esau. He ended the night believing his greatest need was to trust in the blessing of God's promise. What changed him from fearing man to trusting God's word was prolonged and painful wrestling with God.

Sometimes, in your battle with unbelief, your greatest ally will wrestle you — he might even make you limp — until you're desperate enough to say, "I will not let you go unless you bless me." It is a great mercy to be brought to the point where you're desperate enough to insist on what you need the most.

"And I tell you, make friends for yourselves by means of unrighteous wealth, so that when it fails they may receive you into the eternal dwellings."

LUKE 16:9

(Continues…)


Excerpted from "Things Not Seen"
by .
Copyright © 2015 Desiring God.
Excerpted by permission of Good News Publishers.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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