The blog home of speaker and writer Mindy von Atzigen

The blog home of speaker and writer Mindy von Atzigen I am a lover of words, Jesus, and His church. I am also a wife, a mom, and a friend. I hope you'll consider me yours...

Why Hope Exists for Less of Me and More of Him

There is a verse of Scripture jostling around in my spirit today.  A verse that speaks of my Jesus. 

"For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet he did not sin."  Hebrews 4:15

I love this verse because it removes the "God card" factor.  Jesus didn't just play a God card and exempt himself from the possibility of sin.  No.  He was tempted.  In every way I have been tempted, and then some.  And at levels I have never had to face, for he was tempted by the destroyer himself, face to face.  (Matthew 4)

But, he's been there.  His heart has been tempted the way mine has. 

I sometimes imagine it.

When he saw his cousin beheaded, was he tempted to give in to disappointment and let a seed of bitterness sprout?

When his own hometown, his family and friends, could not see past his "ordinariness" and rejected his claims to be the Messiah, was he tempted to give in to anger and let a root of unforgiveness grow?

When the teachers of the law struck his face and spit on him, crying out that he was blaspheming the very name he shared with His father, was he tempted to give in to hopelessness for their redemption and let the tree of mankind wither and die?

When he was all alone in the garden, knowing the cross was coming the next day, was he tempted to tell God He didn't want to do it His way anymore?

These are real situations Jesus found himself in.  Real people he had to look in the face.  Real heart issues that so easily ensnare.

I find myself there all the time.

When God doesn't do what I thought He would do.

When people aren't as mature as I thought they were.

When someone assumes the worst about my intentions.

When my way looks better...or just easier...or just satisfies my wants more than His does.

And I don't always handle it the way He did.  For He didn't sin.

Oh, my Jesus, how I love you for that.  You could have, and you didn't.  You showed me it can be done.  And then you died for the times I would try to follow in your footsteps and fail. 

And today I have hope.  Because You did it.  Because You're still whispering that I can learn.



The God Of All Comfort

My husband and I just returned from a ten day trip to Eastern Europe.  We spent time in three nations, four hotels, and seven airplanes.  An exhausting, but glorious adventure.  Exhausting because we're getting older and felt the intense schedule a little more than we used to.  Glorious because we spent those ten days encouraging church leaders who are quietly doing the work of the Kingdom day in and day out, in nations where they are not only few in number, but often persecuted.

I was humbled to sit across table after table, drinking coffee after coffee, listening to their stories.

The band of brothers who met Jesus from reading a Bible after communism fell, with no one to help them in their new-found faith.  They are now four churches strong, each a vibrant fellowship.

The seaman who drove us to the airport who found the Lord when an elderly man asked him what he was looking for in life, and then proceeded to share with him life's greatest treasure.

The smiling pastor and his brilliant wife who have launched the only Bible school in their nation, pioneered three churches, and built a pre-school to minister to gypsy cast-offs.  They have now once again handed their work over to someone who will take it with care, and are starting over from scratch in yet another un-reached area.

The shoe maker who drove us over the mountains who has shared his faith at great personal cost, introducing everyone he meets to the love of his Jesus, even if that person happens to be an influential mafia leader.

The teenage girl who still loves Jesus, despite being often mocked as the only Christian in her entire high school.

The earnest church leader who prays with his teenage sons every morning for three hours for God to open up Heaven and rain down grace on his city.

The young woman who just married a pastor, whose face glowed as she told me they will travel to a new region to lead the only church in the city as they begin their lives together.  She is absorbing every teaching she can sit under and asking every question she can think of, just to be ready to love people and love them well.

The person after person who told us how they first heard of the name of Jesus, most of them late in life, a testament to how rarely His truth has been proclaimed there since the grip of communism first clenched the life out of their countries.

I was humbled because these people are heroes, living out their faith in a reality I have never had to walk in. 

I was humbled because they do so with joy and hope that what they are doing will make a difference in their nations. 

And I was humbled the most because they thanked me for sharing myself with them.

And when I returned home and faced the problems I had left on my desk and the new ones that had accumulated while I was gone, they didn't seem as impossible as they might have before.  In fact, they seemed quite possible.

So today, as I think of my new friends in the far-reaches of the earth, I pray Paul's thousands year old prayer,

"Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. For as we share abundantly in Christ's sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too."  (2 Corinthians 1:3-5)

May those who suffer for His name be filled with all measure of comfort and joy.  May they never lose sight of the great reward of seeing the lost come to faith.  And may I, when I face suffering, be as courageous as these.  Amen.