so·journ: a brief period of residence.

“What honest boy would pride himself on not picking pockets ? A thief who was trying to reform would. To be conceited of doing one’s duty is then a sign of how little one does it, and how little one sees what a contemptible thing it is not to do it. Could any but a low creature be conceited of not being contemptible? Until our duty becomes to us common as breathing, we are poor creatures.” 

― George MacDonald, The Wise Woman and Other Stories

The apostles said to the Lord, “Increase our faith!” And the Lord said, “If you had faith like a grain of mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.

“Will any one of you who has a servant plowing or keeping sheep say to him when he has come in from the field, ‘Come at once and recline at table’? Will he not rather say to him, ‘Prepare supper for me, and dress properly, and serve me while I eat and drink, and afterward you will eat and drink’? Does he thank the servant because he did what was commanded? So you also, when you have done all that you were commanded, say, ‘We are unworthy servants; we have only done what was our duty.’”

(Luke 17:5-10 ESV)

“Abide in Me.” These words are no law of Moses, demanding from the sinful what they cannot perform. They are the command of love, which is ever only a promise in a different shape. Think of this until all feeling of burden and fear and despair pass away, and the first thought that comes as you hear of abiding in Jesus is one of bright and joyous hope: it is for me; I know I will enjoy it. You are not under the law, with its inexorable do, but under grace, with its blessed believe what Christ will do for you. And if the question is asked, “But surely there is something for us to do?” the answer is, “Our doing and working are but the fruit of Christ’s work in us.” It is when the soul becomes utterly passive, looking and resting on what Christ is to do, that its energies are stirred to their highest activity, that we work most effectively because we know that He works in us. It is as we see in those words in me the mighty energies of love reaching out after us to have us and to hold us, that all the strength of our will is roused to abide in Him…

Paul’s expression, and its application to the Christian life, can best be understood if we think of a father helping his child to mount the side of some steep precipice. The father stands above and has taken the son by the hand to help him on. He points him to the spot on which he will help him to plant his feet, as he leaps upward. The leap would be too high and dangerous for the child alone; but the father’s hand is his trust, and he leaps to get hold of the point for which his father has taken hold of him. It is the father’s strength that secures him and lifts him up and so urges him to use his utmost strength. Such is the relation between Christ and you, O weak and trembling believer! Fix first your eyes on that for which He has apprehended you. It is nothing less than a life of abiding, unbroken fellowship with Himself to which He is seeking to lift you up.

-Andrew Murray, On Prayer(New Kensington: Whitaker House, 1998), 26-27. 

“Needy college girl seeking 24/7 help. I am unable to do anything on my own. I have very frail health (physical, mental, emotional, etc). Please contact me ASAP for more information. (P.S. Also terrified of bees and flies.)”

Yup, doesn’t sound all that attractive. I can’t say for certain, but if that was my ad for a roommate, I’m betting that my roomie last semester might have thought twice before applying!

Lightheartedness aside, though—I’ve been thinking about my sin of independence lately. In a very biblical sense, the ad above is an accurate depiction of the way God longs for me to come to Him. 

“You’ve always been such an independent girl,” Mom commented to me the other day. As a kid, I remember running away from my parents on a snow trip to follow a set of prints I thought a lion had made. That was typical Lindsey. When I was sick, I’d always try to hide it and wouldn’t speak until the pain was unbearable. If someone told me I wouldn’t be able to do something, I’d harness all my energy toward that thing to prove them wrong.

There’s nothing wrong with having a feisty personality streak. I’m always going to love freedom, I’m always going to enjoy challenges, and I’ll probably always wander off on snow trips seeking adventure. When I said “my sin of independence,” I wasn’t making a slight against maturity and responsibility either; we need ample supplies of both to glorify Jesus as adults. I had something else in mind. What does the word “independent” literally mean? According to Merriam-Webster: 

not dependent: as 

• not subject to control by others:self-governing
• not affiliated with a larger controlling unit
• not requiring or relying on something else
• not looking to others for one’s opinions or for guidance in conduct
• not requiring or relying on others (as for care or livelihood)

The world extols these things. Who doesn’t admire the woman who carries herself with an air of confident (which we all know is another word for sexy) self-reliance? You know the type. Self-assured, strong, polite but assertive, takes command easily, probably in possession of a pair of high-heeled boots. Anyway, the alternative sounds… well. Let’s just say this: how many ladies want to be known as a clingy, desperate, helpless woman whose mind and will are easily controlled by someone else?

But if you’re a Christian, I hope those last few words describe exactly how you seek to relate with God. 

Look at the dictionary’s list again—and notice how each one is incompatible with the call of a follower of Jesus. 

Not dependent? “The God who made the world and everything in it, being Lord of heaven and earth, does not live in temples made by man, nor is he served by human hands, as though he needed anything, since he himself gives to all mankind life and breath and everything” (Acts 17:24–25, emphasis added). If you want to be independent, you’re lusting for God’s job. He’s the only independent one. Even on a physical level, we’re dependent: we sink out of consciousness nightly, doing nothing to keep our steady rhythm of inhale-exhale going. Jesus is sustaining us 24/7.

Self-governing, not subject to control? “For by him [Christ] all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities—all things were created through him and for him. And he is before all things, and in him all things hold together (Col 1:16–17, emphasis added). (See also Ephesians 1:11 and Proverbs 16:9.) Jesus controls tornadoes and grasshoppers, presidents and babies. He’s King, I’m slave, and resisting His control by insisting on my way is close to the root of all sin. Insurrection.

Not requiring or relying on anyone? “The eye cannot say to the hand, ‘I have no need of you,’ nor again the head to the feet, ‘I have no need of you.’… Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it” (1 Cor. 12:21,27). Paul tells us that we’re all parts of Jesus’ Body, and we need each other to function as He designed us. I need people badly and daily—not their approval, but them. We need God, and one major way He provides for us is through the Church, His Body.

Not looking to others for guidance in conduct? “The way of a fool is right in his own eyes, but a wise man listens to advice” (Prov. 12:15). (See also Proverbs 15:31–32, Proverbs 11:14, and James 1:5.) The Bible’s word for self-reliant people is “fool.” Pretty simple.

God wants us to come to Him clingy and needy—the antonym of independent. I use the word clingy because I think it fits. Yes, it does bring to mind that annoying OCD type who latches onto victims like a burr, but I want to be latched onto Christ obsessively, too. Our own wills and minds are no longer ours; we’ve been bought, and that should make us joyful slaves of the Master’s will (1 Cor. 7:22–23). 

When you and I start approaching God with anything other than an attitude of total desperation and need, we aren’t showing strength. We’re just showing our arrogance and acting more than a little silly. (Isn’t that what trusting ourselves really is?)  

I want to be an openly dependent woman—a weak woman. A weak woman who knows it, rejoices in it, and constantly draws supernatural strength from Jesus. I need to ask God for incessant help, because I need Him incessantly; I’m literally unable to do anything worthwhile on my “own” without His Spirit’s empowerment.  

I love these lyrics from a hymn remade by Jars of Clay:

I need Thee every hour in joy or pain;

Come quickly and abide or life is in vain;

I need Thee, oh, I need Thee, every hour I need Thee;

I need Thee, I need Thee, I need Thee every hour

I need Thee, I need Thee, I need Thee every hour

Let those words mirror our hearts, Lord. Your grace is sufficient for us, since Your power is made perfect in weakness (2 Cor. 12:9–10)!

Questions for Discussion:

1. Learning how to function in the world as an adult is important. How can you guard against becoming self-reliant as you gain more freedom and responsibility?
2. Some people may believe that they can be highly independent by the dictionary’s definition when it comes to relating with other people, but dependent when they relate with God. Why is this a contradiction?
3. Is your private prayer life deep? If not, why?
4. Why does prayer powerfully counteract our natural tendency to be self-reliant and independent?
5. Would your parents describe you as submissive to authority? Are you receptive to the wisdom and counsel of others, or do you tend to trust your own judgment?
6. Do you find it easy to accept service and help from the Body of Christ? If not, why?

Originally posted at Lies Young Women Believe. 

Let’s shake the movers and move the shakers
Turn off the TV, start the coffee maker
Maybe a little obsession would be a good thing
It’s been awhile since we’ve gone into the night, yeah
We do some talking but we’re easily frightened 
Back to the sofa with our vanilla pudding 

Oh, oh, oh, oh
Is it time to lay our comfort down
Time to give until it hurts 
Empty our cup into our brother’s hand
Is this the kingdom coming

We read the papers, but we cannot fathom
The poverty and violence that happens
And in our neighborhoods the wealthy are starving, too
We are surrounded by the underfed, so
Load our shoulders with some water and bread, Lord
Take us to the hungry, show us what Love can do

Chorus

Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

We are not free if we can’t give freely
If we live to have, we don’t have anything
Oh my heart, it’s good to bleed

I’m reading Acts again for one of my classes, and I was just reminded of a research paper I wrote earlier this year on the controversy of the “second blessing”. As a charismatic believer myself, it was a fascinating study; I had to adjust some of my thinking in the process, which was good. For the interested, I’ve posted my essay below.

“I thought I had [the Spirit’s] power” (Percy 60). He thought he had the Spirit’s power—with the implication that he was mistaken? It may come as a surprise to learn that this haunting statement came from a highly successful preacher who drew some of the greatest crowds in Chicago every Sunday— the founder of Moody Bible Institute.

Although D.L. Moody was “born in the Spirit in 1856”, the date of his conversion, it was not until after the great Chicago fire of 1871 that he attests to receiving the Spirit’s power for ministry. Afterward, he was clear about the dramatic transformation that had taken place: “The sermons were not different; I did not present any new truths; and yet hundreds were converted. I would not now be placed back where I was before that blessed experience if you should give me all the world; it would be as the small dust of the balance” (63).

Provocative words—and they initiate a landslide of questions. How must the discerning Christian respond to testimonies like these? Is this “blessed experience” of Spirit-empowerment accessible to all Christ-followers who seek it as earnestly as Moody did? Are such testimonies proof of the Pentecostal doctrine of a “second blessing”, also referred to as baptism by the Spirit? Most importantly, what do the Scriptures have to say about baptism by the Spirit? Does it take place at regeneration or after some time has lapsed and the gift has been sought with prayer?

The ramifications of a second blessing are theologically serious and profoundly personal. If there is a second blessing of special empowerment, it behooves the Christian to plead for it until He gives it. If there is not, these experiences must still somehow be accounted for. Further, in order for holiness and a Spirit-pleasing life to result, the Spirit’s role within the Christian life ought to be understood. Contrary to the Pentecostal teaching that there is a special second “blessing” of the Spirit for some believers, this paper will argue that the Spirit is given fully to all believers immediately, concurrent with regeneration.

Scripture, not experience, must always be the Christian’s final witness and guide. As the classic theologian Martyn Loyd-Jones points out, this warning goes two ways (Lloyd-Jones 17). On one far side of the spectrum are those who are eager to discredit any hint of extraordinary spiritual encounters with God by attributing them to delusion, weak minds and emotionalism, outright falsehood—even demonic activity. Because God has not chosen to reveal Himself to them in unusual ways, they are suspicious of those who claim otherwise. However, these critics of experiential encounters may be guilty of the same mistake they accuse their opponents of: interpreting Scripture through the narrow grid of theirown experience (21). Categorical, absolute statements about the cessation of certain aspects of God’s work are made, and Scripture is used only to defend and fortify arguments they already feel to be certain through their counter-experience.

On the other side of this spectrum of spiritual experience are those who have seen, heard and felt things that cannot be explained outside of the miraculous. These people are also tempted to use the Bible as a proof-text for things they have already come to believe as a result of what they have personally witnessed. In an increasingly subjective and relativistic culture, the value of personal experiences has been elevated to be on par with truth—and this attitude has unfortunately seeped into the church as well (22).

The first group of people interpret Scripture through their lack of experience; this second group imposes theological conclusions about their spiritual encounters onto certain texts. Both err by refusing to look at Scripture first and then interpret their experiences in light of what they discover there (23). No one can be wholly objective, but our aim today is to put a few chips in the theological grids we may be binding God with, and to face whatever the Scripture says with an honest and inquisitive mind.  

A thorough and careful evaluation of the book of Acts is therefore critical, and we must be willing for clear, prescriptive Scripture to interpret narrative Scripture where our questions create a sense of conflict between the two. 

First, a brief overview of the Pentecostal position is necessary. According to most proponents of the second blessing doctrine, a person may experience salvation through faith in Christ without the Holy Spirit empowering them (Macchia 34). Until the Spirit has come upon a person—usually accompanied with the manifestation of tongues or some other supernatural sign—the believer remains in some sense spiritually desiccated, unable to fulfill God’s calling on his or her life with power (68). The blessing must be sought earnestly and tirelessly until God grants it (Criswell 14). This gift is perceived as a type of litmus test of true spirituality and maturity. Because of the exalted nature of the experience—often entailing high emotions, unusual bodily responses such as falling to the ground, speaking in tongues, seeing a vision, or seeing the glory of God in a spiritual sense with new eyes—and because the experience is purported to result in a supernaturally-charged Christian lifestyle, immense weight is placed on receiving and seeking it (Jacobsen 51). One local charismatic church, Chicago Tabernacle, explains in their Statement of Faith: 

The baptism in the Holy Spirit is separate from salvation, and follows the new birth experience (Acts 8:12-17,10:44-46,11:14-16,15:7-9). With this baptism come such experiences as an overflowing of the Spirit (John 7:37-39; Acts 4:8), a depended reverence for God (Acts 2:43; Hebrews 12:28), an intensified commitment to God and dedication to His work (Acts 2:42), and a more active love for Christ, for His Word, and for those who have not yet become believers (Mark 16:20).

Arguments are made from the experience of the believers in Samaria in Acts 8, who had “accepted the word of God” but had not yet been baptized by the Spirit. Acts 10, 11 and 15 are likewise used prescriptively to authenticate their claims. This interpretation of the Spirit’s work in Acts as what should be normative for all believers in every age is pivotal in the Pentecostal understanding of Spirit baptism.

Two logical problems present themselves against this method of interpretation. First, there is a wide gap between narrative and prescriptive genres of Scripture. The purpose of a narrative passage is to relate the historical events which took place, usually with minimal commentary for present-day application. When Cain killed Abel as related in Genesis 4 and was marked by God with a special seal of judgment, the narrative does not implicitly suggest that all murderers since him have been likewise marked by God. The story is simply related and we are told that God acted in a certain way with Cain. There is no reason to assume that He operates in the same way with all other men who share pertinent similarities with Cain. In contrast, there is no dodging the prescriptive nature of James 1:5: “If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach.” In context, James is addressing the “twelve tribes in the Dispersion,” but more broadly his words apply to all who are “brothers” (vs. 1-2). The authoritative command is inescapable—the words clearly indicate a broadness of application (“if any”), and a specific response is called for (“let him ask”). Distinguishing between narrative and prescriptive texts is one of the first elements of sound biblical exegesis.

Where does Acts fit, then, in the broader context of history? Historically, the book has been recognized as written by Luke as the second volume to his Gospel, and it is dedicated to the same Theophilus Luke’s Gospel refers to. The purpose of Acts is to recount an accurate, selective history of the church’s generation and early growth after Christ’s ascension (English Standard Version, 2073). By genre, it is historical narrative. One of the distinguishing themes woven through this history is the extension of the gospel to the Gentiles. There was an immense amount of conflict in the early church over the inclusion of Samaritan and Gentile believers into the spiritual blessings promised to Israel. With this historical context, we may now turn to the Scriptures themselves.

After the Spirit descended on the first Jewish disciples at Pentecost, our next example of the Spirit falling on believers separate from conversion and accompanied with the sign of tongues takes place in Acts 8. The Samaritans were a despised mixed race, and the traditions of how to relate with them, handed down through the Mishnah and Talmud through the scribes, were cruel and extreme. Similarly, non-Jews were considered and treated with the greatest contempt. Their treatment went beyond a few aberrations; scorn for Gentiles was a deeply ingrained worldview (Packer 164). It was a foreign concept that God might consider saving a people for Himself out of the Gentiles as well. Their understanding of salvation was limited strictly to the nation of Israel. With this critical context in mind, let us examine the first text under dispute:

Now when the apostles at Jerusalem heard that Samaria had received the word of God, they sent to them Peter and John, who came down and prayed for them that they might receive the Holy Spirit, for he had not yet fallen on any of them, but they had only been baptized in the name of the Lord Jesus. Then they laid their hands on them and they received the Holy Spirit (Acts 8: 14-17).

After the Spirit “fell” on them, it was apparently something that could be perceived visibly, because verse 18 reveals that Simon “saw” that they had received the Spirit. Martyn Lloyd-Jones proposes that this is because the Spirit’s coming was accompanied by the original signs of tongues first seen at Pentecost (46).

Even if Lloyd-Jones is correct in this inference, the argument that this incident is Scriptural proof of a second blessing does not necessarily follow. Dr. Wayne Grudem, author of Systematic Theology, suggests an explanation which fits with what we know of the cultural and historical context of Acts (134). Because of the unique despised status of the Samaritan believers, their inclusion into the wider body of Jewish Christians necessitated special visible confirmation. The Spirit fell initially on the twelve with an unmistakable demonstration of God’s power, and a type of “second Pentecost” for the Samaritans stood as indisputable proof that He had made no distinction between them and the Jews (242). The delay may have therefore been purposeful and natural, for their Spirit baptism was confirmed by apostolic witness in Peter and John. The apostolic confirmation of the Samaritan believers’ grafting into Israel was a great step forward in eliminating the deep religious and cultural barriers which had hitherto prevented intercourse between them (Ryrie 72). Notably, the only other example in the book of Acts of believers receiving the Spirit after conversion is in chapter 10, and the recipients are again in need of special apostolic validation for their salvation.

Like the Samaritans, Gentiles were completely disregarded in the Jewish community. Consequently, when God first revealed the cessation of old covenant food laws and the symbolic cleanness of saved Gentiles (Acts 10:9-16), Peter was initially frozen in disbelief. The vision needed to be repeated three times before he was ready to obey the voice of God by following a pair of messengers to the household of Cornelius, a God-fearing Gentile.  In normal circumstances, dining with Gentiles in a Gentile household would have been considered morally impermissible. Peter would have been considered ritually defiled (Packer 163-165).

Through Christ, however, God’s plan for salvation extended to include the Gentiles as well—and it was time for the Church to recognize His inclusion. Verse 44 of chapter 10 reads, “While Peter was still saying these things, the Holy Spirit fell on all who heard the word.” The following verse admits that the circumcised Jewish believers with Peter were shocked—this was a second Pentecost, complete with the manifestation of tongues that had marked the first outpouring of the Spirit. When Peter related what had taken place to the brothers in Judea—how God was being glorified by Gentiles—they rebuked him for associating himself with uncircumcised men. Peter responds,

As I began to speak, the Holy Spirit fell on them just as on us at the beginning. And I remembered the word of the Lord, how he said, John baptized with water, but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit.’ If then God gave the same gift to them as he gave to us when we believed in the Lord Jesus Christ, who was I that I could stand in God’s way? (11:15-17)

His response silenced the Jewish church, causing them to glorify God and accept their Gentile brothers. If it is coincidence, it is a very strange one that every recorded instance of the Spirit’s visible outpouring provided much-needed confirmation of God’s activity and blessing for a specific people group.

The outpouring of the Holy Spirit was not only prophesied in the Old Testament, but also by John the Baptist in the beginning of his ministry and by Jesus Himself. John witnessed that God revealed to him that Jesus was “he who baptizes with the Holy Spirit” (John 1:29-34 ESV). Later in John’s gospel, during the Feast of Booths, Jesus announced that Scripture would be fulfilled and rivers of living water would flow out of the hearts of all who believed in Him (John 7:37-38). John explains for the reader that this was said in reference to “the Spirit, whom those who believed in him were to receive, for as yet the Spirit had not yet been given” (John 7:39). We note linguistically that Christians are baptized with or into the Spirit, much in the same way that we speak of baptism with water. The Spirit is the element, so to speak, which “those who believed in him” would be baptized with. Also, we note the agent of this baptism: the one who is doing the work of baptizing is Jesus Christ Himself. John R.W. Stott, one of the most prominent evangelic scholars of the twenty-first century, comments on this passage: “we are not only to come to Jesus once, in penitence and faith, but also thereafter to keep coming and to keep drinking… the Christian is a spiritual dipsomaniac, always thirsty” (Stott 54).

In 1 Corinthians 12: 13, Paul assumes that everyone in the church of Corinth has received the Spirit without exception: “For in one Spirit we were all baptized into one body—Jews or Greeks, slaves or free—and all were made to drink of one Spirit.” If the baptism of the Spirit was not received at conversion, Paul could not have used these absolute statements with any degree of certainty or accuracy. In Romans 8 we see Paul again operating under the same assumption that the totality of his intended audience has received the Spirit—making an unintentional yet formidable argument for the full spiritual vitality of all Christians. In verses 1-8, he crystalizes the unregenerate status of all men without the Spirit, who are still “in the flesh”: they are hostile to God and cannot please Him. The following verse clinches the section and transitions smoothly into his next point: “You, however, are not in the flesh but in the Spirit, if in fact the Spirit of God dwells in you. Anyone who does not have the Spirit of Christ does not belong to Him” (Romans 8:9). The “Spirit of Christ” is clearly equated with the Holy Spirit in verses 10-27 at least eight separate times, in addition to the grammatical flow of the previous sentence, where “Spirit of God” is used interchangeably with “Spirit of Christ.” Paul is saying, very straightforwardly, that there is no such thing as a Christian who has not been given the Holy Spirit.

By direct implication, Pentecostals are faced with an uncomfortable timeline issue. If they are correct in their insistence that there may be a delay between conversion and receiving the power of the Spirit, they must also concede that a man may be a Christian without belonging to God—posing a rather awkward inconsistency with historical orthodoxy. On the other side of the same token, all the prophecies of the Holy Spirit mesh perfectly with later Pauline pneumatology, the study of the Spirit.

Finally, it seems fitting to return again to the incident of Acts 10 used in Pentecostal arguments. As previously noted, this chapter describes the reception of the Spirit into the Gentile household of Cornelius. However, the first part of verse 44 is often glossed over: “While Peter was still saying these things [the good news of forgiveness through Jesus], the Holy Spirit fell on all who heard the word.” There is no time lapse: belief, accompanying the spoken word of Jesus, is instantaneously accompanied by the outpouring of the Spirit.

Although some Pentecostals use Moody and other illustrious Christians as examples in their camp, D.L. Moody himself never aligned theologically with their position. He did speak in dramatic terms about the difference in himself and in his ministry after the Spirit filled him, but this is not the necessary equivalent of a second blessing experience. On the contrary, experiences like Moody’s may be perfectly valid in their own right without contradicting anything we have argued in the preceding pages.

First, we must note that God has nowhere in Scripture disclosed that He has a prerequisite list of theological understanding that must be checked off before He bestows His Spirit on a believing man or woman in a uniquely powerful way. Since perfect understanding of God and His work is unattainable with finite minds on earth, it should come as little surprise that He works in and through people who misconstrue the precise meaning of His work. Whether or not a man claims to have received a “second” blessing is irrelevant when the proof of God’s work is present. What the honest man does know is that God has done something supernatural in and to him—and that comprehension is enough for God to receive glory, whether he misunderstands the gift’s nature and implications or not. Every aspect of salvation, start to finish, is drenched with grace: He does not give Himself to us because of special maturity or any other righteous attainment, but out of the free pleasure of His own will.    

Second, Ephesians 5:18 indicates that the Spirit’s continuing role in the believer’s life calls for a perpetual “filling”. Packer calls this re-filling an “anointing” (Packer 64).  Re-filling or anointing of the Spirit does not implicate that a man was barren of the Spirit before, any more than adding more water to a full cup until it spills over indicates that the cup was empty before. John Owen, the great Puritan expositor, delineated at length on this nature of the anointing in his treatise The Spirit and the Church (Owen 162).  I would respectfully agree with J.I. Packer and John Owen in suggesting that Moody was not, as some Pentecostals would argue, experiencing the gift of the Spirit for the first time, but an especially powerful anointing of that same Spirit which had entered and transformed him at conversion.

If the God who transformed Moody is still living and active, indwelling each of us who bear His name, we have great reason to rejoice. Knowing that our growth in the Spirit is normally a gradual progression, not typically marked by the extraordinary signs of the early church, should bring comfort and reassurance to those who doubt their filling. We are relieved from the frustrating burden of seeking something that has already been freely given, and it is not incumbent upon us to plead for an elusive experience— we must only pursue more of Christ Himself. Jesus said that the Father delights to give of the Spirit to those who ask Him (Luke 11:13). Motivated by the lavish gift of the great blessing that is already ours through Christ, how can we be anything but zealous for continual re-filling of that same Spirit?

Works Cited 

ESV Study Bible: English Standard Version. Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2008. Print.

Fitt, Arthur Percy. The Shorter Life of D. L. Moody. Chicago: Moody, 1940. Print.

Owen, John. The Holy Spirit : His Gifts and Power: Exposition of the Spirit’s Name, Nature, Personality, Dispensation, Operations and Effects. Evansville, IN: Sovereign Grace, 1954. Print.

Packer, J. I. Keep in Step with the Spirit. Old Tappan, NJ: F.H. Revell, 1984. Print.

Stott, John R. W. Baptism & Fullness: the Work of the Holy Spirit Today. Downers Grove, IL: Inter Varsity, 1976. Print.

Jacobsen, Douglas G. A Reader in Pentecostal Theology: Voices from the First Generation. Bloomington: Indiana UP, 2006. Print.

Ryrie, Charles Caldwell. The Holy Spirit. Chicago: Moody, 1965. Print.

Macchia, Frank D. Baptized in the Spirit: a Global Pentecostal Theology. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2006. Print.

Lloyd-Jones, David Martyn., and Christopher Catherwood. Joy Unspeakable: Power & Renewal in the Holy Spirit. Wheaton, IL: H. Shaw, 1985. Print.

“What We Believe.” Chicago Tabernacle - A Place of Becoming. Web. 04 Mar. 2011. <http://www.chicagotabernacle.org/templates/System/details.asp?id=42313&PID=601961>.

So yesterday, there was this beetle.

It came creeping out of my dresser drawer—which meant that it had been in my clothes. My clothes, which I put on my body. Not cool, Mr. Beetle. That’s a death warrant right there. With a collectedness that surprised me, I grabbed a piece of cardboard and attempted to smush his brains. He wriggled into the carpet and kept going. Undeterred, I turned the cardboard sideways and used it like a knife to sever his back in two. Defeated! Like sin. Thanks God, I thought. (Yes, my brain is random like that.) And then I went to bed.

Next morning, I spotted Mr. Beetle lying on the ground and made a mental note to put him in the trash. A few hours later, I walked over to my dresser— and he was gone. Maybe the cat got hungry. While I scanned the room for him, I spotted another beetle wriggling away.

Determined not to let this one escape either, I pounced with a tissue—only to freeze when I got closer. My second beetle was my first beetle.

His back was fractured in two, and I’ve rarely seen anything so pathetic. He had twisted his whole body around somehow, so that at least six of his legs were on top where his back used to be. He was using his remaining few legs to drag himself around. The incredible thing was that it was actually working; it was clearly impossible for him to recover, but he was still unbelievably fast. Quite a stubborn little thing, aren’t you? I snuffed him out with pity.  

Then I remembered my passing thought as I’d dealt the death blow the night before. Defeated—like sin. How apropos.