Category Archives: Uncategorized

John 5: A Question Of Desire

Posted by: 
Uncategorized
2 Comments

“Do you want to be healed?” (v. 6)

This Jesus asked the paralyzed man outside the pool of Bethesda — a man who suffered for nearly four decades, without a friend to carry him to the water. He certainly had a need to be healed. But the question posed here is one of DESIRE, and the answer reveals the stark difference between belief and unbelief.

Already at this point in John’s gospel there’s a division between those who desire healing and salvation, and those who don’t. Elsewhere in the gospels, when the Pharisees criticize Jesus for spending time with sinners, Jesus reminds them that only those who are sick need a physician. Those who are “well,” who don’t acknowledge their need, don’t desire a savior.

But for those who do, Jesus satisfies that desire with his own desire to heal and to save. That’s the relationship Jesus has with his people; our desires and his are fulfilled in the wondrous work of salvation.

If the marks of true belief are NEED and DESIRE, then may my answer to Jesus’ question ever and always be “Yes!”

John 4: A Heart For Sinners

Posted by: 
Uncategorized
2 Comments

Much like the wedding miracle in Cana, Jesus often worked behind the scenes and purposely far away from those in power. At the faintest whiff of fame, he snuck away to — of all places — Samaria. And there takes place one of my favorite encounters with a sinner, the woman at the well, whose sexual sins, like mine, Jesus knew well, yet he dealt with her so gently. In the end, her testimony of Christ caused many other Samaritans to believe.

Soon after, Jesus offers himself again to the Gentiles with the healing of an official’s son, which also results in belief and salvation. Unlike the Messiah people expected, Jesus performed his miracles in small circles of poor, sick, needy, and unexpected people.

This is good news for those who feel they can’t approach Jesus. His actions in John 4 and throughout the gospels prove his heart is soft toward sinners who know their need for him — and his love is greater than their sin. As A.W. Tozer said, “Jesus Christ knows the worst about you. Nonetheless, He is the one who loves you most.”

John 3: Friend Of The Bridegroom

Posted by: 
Uncategorized
2 Comments

“He must increase, but I must decrease.” (v. 30)

The humility of John the Baptist always amazes me. He looked, dressed, and ate like a wild man, and was ridiculed, jailed, and beheaded, yet Jesus said there was “no one greater” than John the Baptist (Matthew 11:11). That’s probably because of John’s laser-focused mission to glorify the Messiah. Although he was related to Jesus by blood, John’s primary role was to prepare the way, which required him to joyfully decrease so that Christ’s glory would increase. He was content to simply be “the friend of the bridegroom” (v. 29). May the same be true of me.

John 2: A Picture Of Salvation

Posted by: 
Uncategorized
2 Comments

What always surprises me about the story of Jesus turning water into wine in John 2 is how Jesus performs the miracle but it’s the bridegroom who gets the credit.

“When the master of the feast tasted the water now become wine, and did not know where it came from (though the servants who had drawn the water knew), the master of the feast called the bridegroom and said to him, ‘Everyone serves the good wine first, and when people have drunk freely, then the poor wine. But you have kept the good wine until now.’” (v. 9-10)

This is Jesus’ first miracle and yet all the honor goes to the one who did nothing and deserved no praise.

To me, it’s a picture of how God saves us. We’re saved by Christ’s righteousness alone, and yet in the end, because of his work on our behalf, the Father will look at us and say, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

John 1: Behold The Lamb

Posted by: 
Uncategorized
2 Comments

“Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!” (v. 29)

What struck me this time while reading John 1 is the title “Lamb of God.” It’s a phrase I’ve read and sung a thousand times, but today it sprang off the page: Lamb of [belonging to] God.

Unlike the millions of other lambs that came before, which men offered to God, this was God’s very own Lamb, which HE offers to us. Only the Lamb provided by God Himself — who is God Himself — can perfectly atone for our sins.

Jesus is that true and better Lamb.

That’s why John the Baptist cried out, “Behold!” And that’s why, even today, in the midst of our fears and failures, we’re called to do the same.

Bite-size Meditations On John

Posted by: 
Uncategorized
3 Comments

What a whirlwind, dear readers. (I just accidentally typed “dead readers,” which could be true given how long it’s been since I blogged.) I’ll spare you the details on what I’ve been doing since 2017, because it’s not really that interesting and I assume you’re not here to be bored!

For those eager people, i.e. figments of my imagination, who just happened to drop by to see if I’ve posted any riveting content, I have good news for you! I’ll be sharing mini devotionals EVERY weekday through the month of August. Just bite-size meditations I jotted down while reading and journaling through the Gospel of John.

One little thought per chapter, that’s it.

Oh! And see how short this post is? That’s what you can expect from the 21 nuggets coming your way. They weren’t meant to be full-size blog posts. (They weren’t MEANT to be blog posts at all.) As you may have noticed, blogging hasn’t been on my mind, and I’m not sure when the next gust of inspiration will happen. So, let’s consider these upcoming posts mere tumbleweeds of content blowing through the ghost town of The Happy Alternative.

I’d also love to hear what stood out to YOU as you read and reflect on this beautiful gospel. That’s the great thing about bite-size — there’s always room for more!

Advent: Treasure And Ponder

Posted by: 
Uncategorized
3 Comments

It’s been quiet at The Happy Alternative, and I feel like I owe my humble crew of readers and handful of new followers an explanation for the “deafening silence,” as one friend called it. Slightly dramatic, I know. I don’t think anyone is checking every day for updates, but here are my thoughts… just in case.

Some people have asked whether I’m going through a hard time, which is understandable given my post in October regarding storms. I’ve had a few stormy days since then, but these dark winter days actually feel much sunnier. I’m starting to feel like my old self — that is, the new self. “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come” (2 Corinthians 5:17). I attribute these brighter days entirely to being more immersed in God’s Word, which causes me to talk to God more, which causes me to love him more, which causes me to worship more. So, no, the trickle of blog posts here isn’t due to storms. I’ll write my way through those any day!

Laziness and lack of creativity are partly to blame, but I think the silence is mostly due to what I’ll call The Mary Factor.

This Advent, you’re likely to come across one of my favorite verses during your readings. In Luke 2, when the shepherds come to see Jesus, they tell Mary and Joseph what they saw in the field: an army of angels shouting, “Glory to God in the highest!” Everyone is amazed, undoubtedly talking to one another about what happened in the hills of Bethlehem. “But Mary treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart.” There’s the verse! When faced with the weight and wonder of these things, Mary didn’t blog about her thoughts and feelings; she treasured and pondered.

That’s something I do a lot. Which is why launching a website has always felt like a weird move for me. I’m pretty private. I don’t feel specially qualified to write about theology, sexuality, or anything else. I don’t like the pressure of deadlines, however self-imposed. And if I didn’t feel called by God to speak up about singleness and same-sex attraction, I probably wouldn’t. (I’m sort of the Jonah of blogging.) But I do feel called, so I write. Draft after blasted draft, I write. And when I’m not — in those long stretches of silence — I’m usually treasuring. Pondering things in my heart.

Advent only increases my desire to take in rather than spew forth. But because I have a guilty conscience about being the blogger who doesn’t blog, and because the internal nagging is actually intruding on my Christmas bliss, I want to make an exception, pull back the curtain, and tell you what I’m pondering this holiday season.

Namely, Jesus.

Every day I’m reading several chapters of Isaiah, which anticipates his first coming (or advent). I’m also reading the gospel of Luke, which boasts the longest account of his birth. Finally, I’m reading Hebrews, which explains and expands on his coming, with a plea to persevere in faith until he comes again. Taking in such truth and beauty in preparation for Christmas has truly rekindled my love, adoration, and affection for Jesus. And I do want to talk about him! We’re supposed to. But there are times when, like Mary, I need to first let things settle in my heart awhile. I think that’s what Advent is for. But we’re so busy buying, wrapping, cleaning, cooking, performing, and DOING, that we forget to treasure and ponder.

So that’s what’s happening here. Maybe in the New Year I’ll be a little less like Mary and a bit more like Paul, at least in terms of output. But for now, I’ve got a lot to treasure in my heart. I hope this Christmas season you’ll find lots to treasure, too.

Death Redeemed And Reimagined

Posted by: 
Uncategorized
1 Comment

Today I spent a couple hours walking through the wreckage that is autumn. In the spring, my afternoon walks are ripe with resurrection imagery — buds, blossoms, butterflies. Everything whispers “new life” and I’m emboldened to hope in the risen Christ. It’s like a sermon: “Behold, I make all things new.” But today, smack in the middle of October, nature clearly pointed to death: bare branches, bone-dry plants (with a few clinging to dear life), tiny animals scrounging for scraps. (I imagined them prepping for the winter apocalypse.) As much as I love spring and the signs of life that come with it, the fall imagery was beautiful, too — just in a different way.

Which got me thinking, how can death be beautiful?

death2In Scripture, death is ugly — the costly wages of sin (Romans 6:23). But the death of Jesus gave death new meaning — even hope. Jesus, the best man to ever live — the only man who TRULY lived in the way we ought to, fiercely devoted to God and neighbor — this man who really lived, REALLY died. Like the beautiful, blood-red leaf that floats and spirals and plummets to the ground, severed from its source, the Son of God was slain. His corpse entombed for three days — a short season, but enough for the reality to set in. The tomb was sealed. The disciples mourned. The women blended burial spices together and knew where to find the grave. This was the real deal.

And yet Christians believe, somehow, this death is beautiful. Because this wasn’t ordinary — not like all other deaths that came before it. This particular death marked “the death of death” for all who believe. On the cross, every last drop of God’s wrath was poured out on the Son, who died in our place, and every bit of Christ’s righteousness was given to us, in what theologians call “the great exchange.” This death secured eternal LIFE for those who love Jesus — the one person whom death could never touch, because he was without sin, yet he submitted to it willingly. Yes, this death proved something: not only Christ’s love for the Father, but also his love for us.

death3

My second thought, as I crunched my way along the trail, was of dying to self — something all Christians are called to do. A few verses came to mind. Like when Jesus told his disciples, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me” (Matthew 16:24). Another time, he said, “Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life” (John 12:24-25). Then there’s Paul, who said, “For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain” (Philippians 1:21). To die is gain. 

In all these passages, death for the Christian is redeemed, reimagined. I think that’s why today, despite my affinity for spring, I was able to see something beyond death — something more like beauty — in the images that pervaded the landscape. At the end of the trail (right after my phone died), I spotted a caterpillar on the pavement. I picked him up with a twig and watched another sermon crawl before my very eyes:

When the perishable puts on the imperishable, and the mortal puts on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written: “Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?” The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.