He [God] took him outside and said, “Look up at the sky and count the stars – if indeed you can count them.” Then He said to him, “So shall your offspring be.”
Genesis 15:5
 
Many years ago, I went camping in Yosemite National Park. I had promised my parents to call them to let them know we had arrived safely. It was already dark by the time I found a payphone to make the call. As I stood in the phone booth in a dark yet starry night, I looked up to the sky as I waited for someone to answer my call. I saw the twinkle of countless stars and galaxies far.  Whenever I face a disappointing situation that leaves me discouraged and disoriented, I instinctively recall that dark yet starry night. And I am reminded that I am not hopeless because I count the stars.
In the story of Abram/Abraham, the Lord often invited him to look up at the sky. It usually occurred after a time of disappointment. Perhaps that is how Abram felt like when Lot took the best part of the land of the Jordan. Abram may have thought he was left with the scraps or none at all. In our particular verse above, we hear the promise of an heir even while Abram was childless. Abram could not see the signs of descendants, but God showed him the signs of God’s promises. Count the stars, if you are able to count them…
There are two ways to count the stars. I have counted the times of God’s past faithfulness in my life and the many ways God was a living preposition. The resolution had come by going through, above, around or under the pain and never quite with the results that I expected. I have also counted the stars by considering that God’s faithfulness came through friends. They became stars and signs of hope to me. At that time the individual calls, emails, texts and words of encouragement strengthened my resolve and resilience. A former pastor gave me a short leadership talk: “This is a momentary setback, but in the end, they reveal greater blessings to those who persist in prayerful pursuit. Please take it from someone who’s been there before and learn to pivot from disappointment to determination. Keep your eyes fixed on Jesus.”
Count the stars, my fellow pilgrims. The way around the pain and the witnesses to the pain are signs of God’s faithfulness, presence and promise.
 
God of the stars, teach us to number the ways in which Your faithfulness has been made known in our lives. Teach us to trust Your faithfulness so we may defy the darkness with that simple trust. May our faithfulness be marked by Your perfect fidelity.
Grant us grace, O God.

Nehemiah 4:10-14
 
Fear is a common human emotion. We all feel it at times. I’m sure you can relate. Sometimes our fears are irrational, such as my youthful terror of darkness. At other times our fears are well-founded. For instance, if you live in Altadena, you would have been fearful last month. The Eaton Fire was raging out of control and hurricane-force winds were blowing and coming ever nearer to your house. And you were watching burning embers land on your roof. Your fear of the fire was certainly rational.
At times, we will confront various fears. Some of these will be ours. Others will belong to the people around us. We see an example of the latter in Nehemiah 4. The Jews were repairing the walls of Jerusalem, their enemies became angry and plotted to attack Jerusalem (4:7-8). In response, Nehemiah “set a guard as a protection against them day and night” (4:9). Yet this did not satisfy the Jewish people. Repeatedly they cried out to Nehemiah, “From all the places where they live they will come up against us” (4:12). This was a sensible fear because an unfinished wall wouldn’t provide adequate protection for the people. Moreover, they did not have an army sufficient to fend off their enemies. Thus, Nehemiah needed to deal with the real threat to the well-being of his people as well as their fear, which could distract or discourage them from doing the crucial work of rebuilding the wall.
What did Nehemiah do? First, he responded pragmatically by adding to the force protecting Jerusalem. In the places where the wall was most incomplete and vulnerable, Nehemiah “stationed the people according to their families, with their swords, their spears, and their bows” (4:13). No doubt this was meant both to protect the city and to reassure the people. Nehemiah was taking their fears seriously and doing something to dispel them. As a leader, he didn’t ignore his people or minimize their anxiety. I expect they felt heard and valued by Nehemiah’s response.
Second, Nehemiah reminded the people of “the LORD, who is great and awesome” (4:14). Thus, he could exhort the people, “Do not be afraid of [your enemies]” (4:14). Yes, they were a legitimate threat to the families and homes of the Jews in Jerusalem. And yes, the Jews should be prepared to fight if necessary to defend the city and all within it. But, even so, they had a great and awesome God on their side. Surely the character and presence of God would help the Jews with their fears.
Honestly, as I read this story I feel the tension between the wonderfully reassuring truth of God's greatness and the reality of threats that make us afraid. The problem is, as we know so well, that God does not always do what we would like God to do for us. Sometimes God protects us in ways we wish. But there are other times as well, times in which God allows us to struggle and suffer.
For example, as the Eaton Fire ravaged Altadena, thousands lost their homes. Among these was Matthew, who pastors a church in Pasadena. Matthew has a strong trust in the Lord and exercised this trust as he and his family evacuated from their delightful home in Altadena. Though they lived more than a mile from the burning mountains, the wind-driven embers reached their house burning it down completely. What an awful tragedy! In the days since Matthew has cared for other families in his congregation who lost their homes as well. He has testified to the goodness and presence of God even amid painful losses.
When challenged by the fears of people around us, we must respond like Nehemiah. We will take seriously what the people are feeling and respond in empathetic, wise, and practical ways. We will reassure them of God’s strength and presence, exhorting them not to live in fear. Sometimes we will rejoice with them when divine deliverance reflects their hopes and prayers. Other times, however, we will lament with them when tragedy strikes. Yet, even then, when we don’t fully understand the truth we embrace, we need to be reminded of the God who is present with us in all things, in plenty and in want, in celebration and sorrow. Like Nehemiah, and like Matthew, we share all of life with our people, in the best of times and the worst of times.
 
Gracious God, thank You for seeing when we are afraid.
Help us to respond wisely and sensitively. Show us what we should do in response to our fears.

Matthew 14:23-33
Last week, I read Joseph’s story in Genesis. I was reminded of God’s ability to extend grace even in the rockiest of situations. This week, I have been reflecting on the story of Peter trying, succeeding, and failing at walking on water.
I wonder what it would be like if Peter ever met Joseph. They have much in common – enthusiastic go-getters who didn’t always think before they talked or acted. The Gospels make it clear that Peter loved Jesus and wanted to serve Him. They also make it clear that Peter didn’t always go about that in the smartest way. We think ultimately of his denial of Christ (Matthew 26) as well as in the other Gospels; but the story in Matthew 14 is an earlier and more low-stakes example.
At this point Jesus was ready for a time of sabbath. He had been preaching and healing for some time; He had received the sad news of the murder of His cousin, John the Baptist, at the hands of Herod; He wanted to be alone after hearing this news (Matthew 14:13). He had just performed a tremendous miracle, the feeding of the five thousand, for the crowds who had followed Him anyway. The Scriptures are clear that Jesus – fully human and fully divine – needed times of rest and drawing apart. At the beginning of this passage, He tries again, going up on a mountain to pray.
The disciples, meanwhile, get in the boat (we don’t really know why) and begin to sail away. Perhaps Jesus told them that He needed a longer time of rest. Maybe they were sleeping in the boat and it got loose by accident. At any rate, they found themselves out on the lake in the middle of a storm; and Jesus, presumably refreshed and renewed, saw that they were marooned out there and came to help them. Walking across the water.
Peter tries to walk out to meet Jesus. And he actually makes it partway, trusting in the word of the Lord who has summoned him to come (Matthew 14:28-29). Then, for whatever reason, he lets his fear get the better of him, as he will do again much later to far sadder effect (Matthew 26). He sinks. “Lord, save me!” he cries out. And Jesus does.
There’s far more to Peter’s story, of course. Only a few chapters later Jesus will reward his blurting out “You are the Messiah” with an affirmation that someday, somehow, Peter will be the rock on whom Jesus builds His church (Matthew 16:17-19). And then, a few chapters after that, Peter will sadly disappoint and deny his Lord.
But that isn’t the end of the story either. One day, Jesus will do more than just walk on water and calm raging storms; He will destroy death itself. John 21 tells us that the resurrected Jesus will extend forgiveness to His flawed but enthusiastic follower Peter. And in the movement that springs from the preaching of the crucified and risen Lord, Peter will be one of the foremost leaders.
It seems, doesn’t it, that Jesus can use flawed people who cry out to Him for help.
 
Lord Jesus, You are the One who has power over winds, storms, seas, and even death itself.
Please save us, restore us, heal us, and empower us for Your Kingdom.

“God also said to Moses, “Say to the Israelites, ‘The Lord, the God of your fathers—the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob—has sent me to you.’ “This is my name forever, the name you shall call me from generation to generation.” (Exodus 3:15)
Shall we pray?
Yes, Lord, our God, you revealed yourself as the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob—God of real people, people with flesh and blood, with weaknesses and shortcomings, with emotions and experiences! You are not the God of Reformed Theology, nor the God of the Charismatics, the Fundamentalists, the Democrats, or the Republicans. You are the God of the living, not a God of academic theories.
Lord, we are afraid of the unknown. So, we prefer a safe God, a God we can predict and control. But Lord, you cannot and should not be reduced to such. You are God—greater than the sum of all the experiences of the saints before us, greater than the sum of all theological frameworks. You are a God who cannot be put into a box. Lord, if my theology does not lead me to awe and humility—if it does not stir in me a deeper longing and a renewed desire for you—then I have missed the point.  Lord, forgive my pride and have mercy on me. Lord, you are the Living God. No matter how much or how little I have experienced of you before, today, I long to know you more deeply, to encounter you, and to worship you anew.
Lord, you have chosen to reveal yourself through stories. You have invited us to partake in your story because you want us to remember that we were made in your image—to be like you—so that we may interact with you. You are a God of interaction, a God of relationship. Lord, help me never forget that you long to reveal yourself to us through the stories of our everyday lives, so that in every place we have been, every person we have met, and everything we have done, we may declare, “Lord, you are here!” and tell others, “The Lord was here!”
Just as you revealed yourself to Jacob—even as he fled, even in his sleep—so you reveal yourself in ordinary stories and in the most trivial things. And yet, your presences have transformed them and set them apart.
Lord, may my prayers never be about commanding you to act, nor just a list of my desires, but rather, may they be a way of tuning my spiritual antenna, sharpening my spiritual vision, and waiting with joyful expectation to see you at work in my life today. Let us rise from our disappointments, hopelessness, and weaknesses, and follow you.
For you are the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob—the God of real people, people with flesh and blood, with weaknesses and shortcomings, yet people who are in covenant with you.
God of everything, be in my everything today, write our story oh Lord. Amen.