The takers of the Land

marriage
children
adoption faith
family
work
 Lessons from the desert

1 - Slaves don’t take the land

Galatians 4 – Immature sons are
like slaves
1
What I am saying is that as
long as the heir is a child, he
is no different from a slave,
although he owns the whole
estate.
 Servants and Sons
• Cain and Abel
• Joseph and his brothers
• Martha and Mary
• The Lost son and his older brother
 The “do right” mindset

When we are motivated just

by a desire of being
respectable, we loose the
heart of what our walk with
Jesus should be
 Lessons from the Desert

1 - Slaves don’t take the land

2 – Families take the Land
 Joshua
• Joshua 1:14,15 - You are to help your
brothers until the LORD gives them
rest, as he has done for you, and until
they too have taken possession of the
land that the LORD your God is giving
them. After that, you may go back and
occupy your own land
• Joshua 24:14 – “But as for me and my
household, we will serve the LORD.”
The heart of the Land-Takers

Luke 7:1-10
1
When Jesus had finished saying all this in the hearing of the
people, he entered Capernaum. 2There a centurion’s servant,
whom his master valued highly, was sick and about to die. 3The
centurion heard of Jesus and sent some elders of the Jews to
him, asking him to come and heal his servant. 4When they came
to Jesus, they pleaded earnestly with him, “This man deserves
to have you do this, 5because he loves our nation and has
built our synagogue.” 6So Jesus went with them.
He was not far from the house when the centurion sent friends
to say to him: “Lord, don’t trouble yourself, for I do not
deserve to have you come under my roof. 7That is why I
did not even consider myself worthy to come to you. But
say the word, and my servant will be healed. 8For I myself am a
man under authority, with soldiers under me. I tell this one,
‘Go,’ and he goes; and that one,‘Come,’ and he comes. I say to
my servant, ‘Do this,’ and he does it.”
9
When Jesus heard this, he was amazed at him, and turning to
the crowd following him, he said, “I tell you, I have not found
such great faith even in Israel.” 10Then the men who had been
sent returned to the house and found the servant well.
 His Heart
• He was respected by the citizens – “He
is worthy”;
• He knew who he really was – “I am not
worthy”;
He thought that even his servant was
more worthy than him to ask Jesus to
come;
• He was realistic about the state of his
heart and was not hiding behind his
title.
Tossing The Image And Becoming Real
by Kay Warren

        At a party I attended, a new Christian and I were talking,

asking each other the usual get-acquainted questions. He asked
me if any of my extended family members were believers. I
replied that I had grown up in a pastor’s home, and we were all
Christians. He was interested to find out I was a pastor’s kid and
probed deeper into my upbringing. Reluctantly I told him about a
sibling who was struggling with a drug addiction. I mentioned how
sad and angry I was feeling. His face broke into a huge smile, and
he said, “That’s great!” I was shocked by his response and asked
him what he meant. He said, “I’m so glad you know what it’s like
to have problems!”

Discounting the insensitivity of his response, he had a point. Too

often we Christians hide our pain, sins and weaknesses from each
other. We hope that if we publicly mouth the right words, pray
impressive prayers, sing with gusto, and show up at committee
meetings, we can fake it a little longer. Faking it can become a
way of life rather than an occasional attempt to get through a
difficult moment. I know because pretending all was well with my
soul when it wasn’t led me to a mental breakdown.
The Pastor’s Daughter

When I was growing up, my dad pastored churches all over

California. I liked being the pastor’s daughter because of the
attention and special privileges I received. Sometimes my
“exalted” position got me into trouble. When I was 5 years old, I
practiced fancy walking on a brick retaining wall that bordered the
church driveway. One of the deacons, trying to save me from a
concussion, asked me to get down. With great haughtiness, I
looked down at him, a mere church member, and said, “I don’t
have to! My dad’s the pastor!” Of course, that remark made its
way to my parents’ ears, and my little bottom was spanked
soundly! Being the pastor’s daughter also came with extra
responsibility--no sassing the deacons!

Not all my early experiences were so amusing. When I was very

small, a church member’s son molested me. I told no one initially,
choosing to keep the shame and brokenness I felt a secret.
Eventually, I put the molestation out of my mind completely, or so
I thought. My understanding of God and how He felt about my
sexuality became increasingly distorted. I became a people
pleaser. To make my parents happy and to have the respect of
others was a very important goal in my life. I wanted to feel God's
love for me, but often I felt instead that He was only interested in
how well I could keep His rules. I loved Him with a fierce love, but
I wasn’t certain He felt the same about me.
Faking It

Throughout my teenage years I was confused, frightened, and disgusted by

some of the temptations I gave in to. I dreaded how my parents and youth
leaders would react if they knew what I was really like. I wanted my life to
count for God, but a couple of behaviors threatened my self-worth and my
belief that He could ever use me in a significant way.

Outwardly, I kept the rules and did everything a good Christian woman should
do. It wasn’t a total sham because I truly loved God, and my lapses only
made me more aware of how unworthy to be His child I felt. Somehow I
muddled through, loving God and disliking myself. I thought if I kept all the
external rules and regulations of Christianity, no one would ever know about
the broken places in my soul. No way in the world was I going to confide my
struggles.

What would other people think?

This refrain became the theme of my life. Year after year I added new ways to
look good on the outside while being driven by fear and confusion on the
inside. During my college years I became convinced that I was too worldly, so
I stopped using nail polish and makeup (a scary act for a natural blond). I
vowed to never wear shorts or a swimsuit in public again. When my fiancée,
Rick, wanted to buy me a diamond engagement ring, we argued for weeks
over his “carnal” inclinations to buy jewelry! In my mind, a plain gold band
was sufficient for godly girls.
Hiding Our Pain

Rick and I got married and quickly began our descent into marital hell. Having lived
the first 21 years of my life in the prison of trying to fool others into thinking I was
the perfect Christian, I was scared to death to realize that I couldn’t hide from my
new husband. He saw me not only at my best but also at my worst. You can’t live
with an other person 24 hours a day and not see her flaws and sins and
weaknesses. I was terrified that Rick wouldn’t love me anymore once he knew the
real me: a woman who struggled almost daily with depression and hopelessness, a
woman who flew into hysterical rages when overwhelmed emotionally, a woman
consumed with guilt and shame over past sins. How could he love someone like
me? My feelings of inadequacy grew when I saw the shock and dismay on his face
as I screamed and cried during our frequent arguments. He thought he had
married a gentle, quiet, docile young woman when, in reality, he had married a
cleverly disguised volcano!
Perhaps the saddest part of the story is that I felt that I had nowhere to go for
help. No one would understand. While we were close to both sets of parents,
we felt embarrassed to talk so personally with them about our marriage
troubles. Rick was on staff as a youth pastor, and we definitely felt we couldn’t
let anyone in our church know of our pain. What would they think of us? We
were the “perfect couple.” Counseling didn’t seem like an option because
counseling was for “loonies,” and we weren’t loony. We believed that if we just
loved God enough, our problems would eventually go away. We hid our pain,
our misery, and our unraveling marriage for two years. We felt trapped,
cheated, and mad at God. Then the bottom fell out for me.
I was commuting to college in Los Angeles and had to role-play a family scene
about conflict resolution in a sociology class. When my turn came, I burst into
tears and ran out of the classroom sobbing. I drove the 60 miles to our home,
crying the whole way. I didn’t know why I was crying. Was I losing my mind?
Who but a crazy person would sob uncontrollably for 60 miles without knowing
why?

Rick was experiencing severe physical symptoms from the stress of our
deteriorating relationship. Between my emotional breakdown and his physical
breakdown, we were at the end of our rope. God was finally able to break
through our resistance to admitting we were imperfect people. We began to see
a compassionate Christian counselor who taught us how to communicate and
how two imperfect, sinful individuals could build a strong marriage.
At last I was ready to acknowledge what I had tried to deny my whole life: I was
just a human being! I was not a super Christian, not a superwoman, and
certainly not a super wife. I was just an ordinary woman who had a lot of broken
places that needed the healing grace of God. Soon after that I felt God's love for
me for the first time. I had known all my life that God loved me. I was confident
of it. But I can’t say that I had ever felt it at an emotional level before.

One night after our counseling session, I was overwhelmed by the certainty that
God loved every part of me – the good girl, the bad girl, and even the ugly girl
who looked good on the outside but was full of filth on the inside. Again I wept
uncontrollably, but this time I cried tears of relief, release, and joy. The God who
made heaven and earth, who flung the stars into space, who holds it all together
by His smallest word ... this perfect God loved imperfect me. Amazing!

I determined that night I’d never return to the emotional prison where hiding,
pretense, and faking it are the norm. If necessary, I would stand on the roof of
our church building and shout to anyone who would listen, “I’m just like you! I’m
a person who hurts and cries and has arguments. I have days when I don’t love
my husband, let alone love God!” A new way of life began for me that night--a
life that was more open and vulnerable.
Starting Saddleback

A few years later Rick and I started Saddleback Valley Community church. We
intentionally built it on the principles we had learned through those dark days.
From the very beginning of Saddleback, we have talked openly about our
marriage struggles--and not just the ones from our early years. When we teach,
we often use the disagreement we had yesterday to show we still don’t have it all
together! We share our fears, our inadequacies, our mistakes, our doubts, and
our questions, as well as our victories and triumphs. No one can look at us and
say, “You’re perfect, and your family is perfect. What do you know about real life
and where I’m hurting today?” We are committed to being real, vulnerable, and
authentic. Through this, we’ve learned our strengths don’t encourage others
nearly as much as our weaknesses.

Living in Authentic Vulnerability

God never meant for us to live our lives dreading that others would see us for
who we truly are. We weren’t designed for the stress of pretending, hiding, and
covering up our sins. Instead, He planned for us to live in authentic vulnerability,
free to confess our weaknesses and sins, and free to find acceptance and
encouragement to grow. First John 1:7 (TLB) says, “But if we are living in the
light of God's presence, just as Christ does, then we have wonderful fellowship
and joy with each other, and the blood of Jesus his son cleanses us from every
sin.”
That Scripture says we have a choice: we can live in the light, or we can live in
the darkness. When we hide our true selves, pretending that all is right within us,
we walk in darkness. Many choose to walk in darkness because it’s within us, we
walk in darkness. Many choose to walk in darkness because it’s easy to hide
flaws and blemishes in the dark. We can protect ourselves. Others can’t see the
truth about us because we’ve cloaked it in pretense. On the other hand, a light
exposes everything, and sometimes what it reveals isn’t pretty. Just like picking
up a rock exposes the ugly, crawly things that cling to the underside of the rock,
when we allow God's light of truth to expose the ugly, crawly things about us, we
can no longer hide. He gives us the chance to admit the ugliness and to receive
forgiveness.

Walking in the light of God's truth--being honest--keeps us from faking it. Faking
it takes an incredible toll on relationships; it kills intimacy. It keeps us from ever
being close to another person--even from being close to God. God desires that
we form friendships that accurately represent His idea of fellowship--fellowship
that sees the truth about you but loves you too much to leave you that way.

The early days of marriage are behind me, but the lessons about authenticity
born in that painful time grow truer each year. Deciding to live with authenticity
has revolutionized my relationships.
I’m not afraid to be close to God because I know I’m secure in His love. I can’t
do anything to make Him stop loving me. He knows the real me, inside and out,
and still chooses to call me His child.

My husband and I have become best friends. He too, knows all there is to know
about me and accepts me anyway. He even likes me! As much as I would like
for my kids to see me as a perfect mom, there’s no chance of that! They
figured out my weaknesses long ago.

As a pastor’s wife, I refuse to cave in to the pressure of playing a role,

pretending I can walk on water. I can’t. I don’t even try anymore. I’m just
Kay--nothing more, nothing less.

Worrying about what other people thought, covering up personal sin, hiding
struggles behind proper behavior, trying to be perfect--these decisions nearly
crippled me. Some of you know this story. If you changed a few of the details,
it could be your story. You’ve invested a huge amount of your emotional,
physical, and spiritual energy in becoming a master of denial, a pro at
pretense. You may feel the stark terror I felt--that your whole world will come
crashing down if you let someone else know the full extent of your
imperfection.
Being real about your weaknesses and struggles can be risky. Not all
Christians are ready to be accepting and vulnerable in return. But the risk is
worth taking. Authenticity is the path to freedom to be who God created you
to be, to more satisfying, loving relationships, and to profound intimacy with
God.

Take the first step by coming clean with God. You can’t keep a secret from
God, so you may as well confess what He already knows. Let His healing
grace flood your soul with forgiveness.

The next step is to tell one trustworthy person what you’ve been afraid to
admit. Ask that friend to pray for you to have the courage to begin sharing
your story with other people. After you’ve grown comfortable with being open
about your weaknesses and struggles, others will know you are a safe person
to be vulnerable with. You will have the incredible privilege of offering the
same unconditional love and mercy to them God offered to you the day you
decided to live with authenticity.
Being real about your weaknesses and struggles can be risky. Not all
Christians are ready to be accepting and vulnerable in return. But the risk is
worth taking. Authenticity is the path to freedom to be who God created you
to be, to more satisfying, loving relationships, and to profound intimacy with
God.

Take the first step by coming clean with God. You can’t keep a secret from
God, so you may as well confess what He already knows. Let His healing
grace flood your soul with forgiveness.

The next step is to tell one trustworthy person what you’ve been afraid to
admit. Ask that friend to pray for you to have the courage to begin sharing
your story with other people. After you’ve grown comfortable with being open
about your weaknesses and struggles, others will know you are a safe person
to be vulnerable with. You will have the incredible privilege of offering the
same unconditional love and mercy to them God offered to you the day you
decided to live with authenticity.