Though in the valley, on The Heights

By: Pastor Scott Brodd

One thing I greatly cherish from other believers and some of the dearest moments in my own life are when we (I) catch a solid glimpse of the reality of our (my) sinfulness in light of God’s holiness and goodness. Those precious sightings of God’s glory that lead to the bold and humble confession, “Woe is me,” are what I believe ought to be a daily occurrence in every believer’s life.

Yet, there have been seasons in my own life where I stay stuck in the “Woe is me,” and fail to push my mind and heart into the gospel joys purchased for the Church by Christ on the cross, joys like I am forgiven, I am clean, I am loved, I am adopted, and I am still sent for God’s purposes regardless of my brokenness. I’ve found such a “stuckness” is like quicksand: once you initially fall into it, unless you have a friend to help pull you out, soon enough you will be drowning in depression, distraction, and a kind of false-humility that looks godly to others, but fails the test in the courtroom of heaven. True humility always moves itself into the good news of Jesus and stands in victory.

I’ll be honest, I have been in a season similar to this for some time now, in the ebb and flow of seeing my sin, experiencing conviction, and yet not seeing freedom from the pull of those worthless things for failure to seek God’s power through the gospel. In fact, this morning’s devotional began with me begging God for grace, discipline, change, and growth because I’ve seen more areas in my life that qualify me as a broken man. Usually, after my initial conversation with God in my devotional, I crack open a devotional for men called Stand Firm published by LifeWay. This morning, however, I felt the pull to randomly open Charles Spurgeon’s devotional Morning and Evening, and I read this morning’s devotional. I believe such a pull was of God, for it connected with me in many ways, and I wanted to share it with you all as well.

“Babes in Christ.”
—1 Corinthians 3:1


Are you mourning, believer, because you are so weak in the divine life: because your faith is so little, your love so feeble? Cheer up, for you have cause for gratitude. Remember that in some things you are equal to the greatest and most full-grown Christian. You are as much bought with blood as he is. You are as much an adopted child of God as any other believer. An infant is as truly a child of its parents as is the full-grown man. You are as completely justified, for your justification is not a thing of degrees: your little faith has made you clean every whit. You have as much right to the precious things of the covenant as the most advanced believers, for your right to covenant mercies lies not in your growth, but in the covenant itself; and your faith in Jesus is not the measure, but the token of your inheritance in him. You are as rich as the richest, if not in enjoyment, yet in real possession. The smallest star that gleams is set in heaven; the faintest ray of light has affinity with the great orb of day. In the family register of glory the small and the great are written with the same pen. You are as dear to your Father’s heart as the greatest in the family. Jesus is very tender over you. You are like the smoking flax; a rougher spirit would say, “put out that smoking flax, it fills the room with an offensive odour!” but the smoking flax he will not quench. You are like a bruised reed; and any less tender hand than that of the Chief Musician would tread upon you or throw you away, but he will never break the bruised reed. Instead of being downcast by reason of what you are, you should triumph in Christ. Am I but little in Israel? Yet in Christ I am made to sit in heavenly places. Am I poor in faith? Still in Jesus I am heir of all things. Though “less than nothing I can boast, and vanity confess.” yet, if the root of the matter be in me I will rejoice in the Lord, and glory in the God of my salvation. [1]

Even though we are in the valley of vision where we see our weak spiritual life, our feeble love and little faith, we are at the same time on the heights of God’s gospel promises. God doesn’t quench the smoking flax, nor does he break the bruised reed, meaning he won’t cast me aside and abandon his work in me. These truths pushed my mind and heart into the gospel’s joys today, and I pray this is a permanent work of God in me.

Can you see how helpful this is for me? Does this help you who are in the valley? Look to the heights, my friends, and see the light.


[1] Charles H. Spurgeon, Morning and Evening (Passmore & Alabaster, Logos Bible Software), October 19 morning reading.