GIP Library icon

LOG IN TO REVIEW
About the Book


"Girl Meets God" is a memoir by Lauren F. Winner that chronicles her journey from a secular Jewish upbringing to embracing Christianity. Winner explores the complexities of faith, love, and identity as she navigates between her Jewish heritage and newly found Christian beliefs. The book offers deep insights into the spiritual journey and the search for belonging and meaning in life.

Warren Wiersbe

Warren Wiersbe Dr. Warren Wiersbe once described Heaven as “not only a destination, but also a motivation. When you and I are truly motivated by the promise of eternity with God in heaven, it makes a difference in our lives.” For Wiersbe, the promise of eternity became the motivation for his long ministry as a pastor, author, and radio speaker. Beloved for his biblical insight and practical teaching, he was called “one of the greatest Bible expositors of our generation” by the late Billy Graham. Warren W. Wiersbe died on May 2, 2019, in Lincoln, Nebraska, just a few weeks shy of his 90th birthday. “He was a longtime, cherished friend of Moody Bible Institute, a faithful servant of the Word, and a pastor to younger pastors like me,” said Dr. Mark Jobe, president of Moody Bible Institute. “We are lifting up pastor Wiersbe’s family in prayer at this time and rejoicing in the blessed hope that believers share together.” Wiersbe grew up in East Chicago, Indiana, a town known for its steel mills and hard-working blue-collar families. In his autobiography, he connected some of his earliest childhood memories to Moody Bible Institute; his home church pastor was a 1937 graduate, Dr. William H. Taylor. After volunteering to usher at a 1945 Youth for Christ rally, Wiersbe found himself listening with rapt attention to Billy Graham’s sermon, and responded with a personal prayer of dedication. In a precocious turn of events, the young Wiersbe was already a published author, having written a book of card tricks for the L. L. Ireland Magic Co. of Chicago. He quickly learned to liven up Sunday school lessons with magic tricks as object lessons (“not the cards!” he would say). After his high school graduation in 1947 (he was valedictorian), he spent a year at Indiana University before transferring to Northern Baptist Seminary in Chicago, where he earned a bachelor of theology degree. His future wife, Betty, worked in the school library, and Wiersbe was a frequent visitor. While in seminary he became pastor of Central Baptist Church in East Chicago, serving until 1957. During those years he became a popular YFC speaker, which led to a full-time position with Youth for Christ International in Wheaton. He published his first article for Moody Monthly magazine in 1956, about Bible study methods, and seemed to outline his ongoing writing philosophy. “This is more of a personal testimony,” he said, “because I want to share these blessings with you, rather than write some scholarly essay, which I am sure I could not do anyway.” At a 1957 YFC convention in Winona Lake, Indiana, Wiersbe preached a sermon that was broadcast live over WMBI, his first connection to Moody Radio. “I wish every preacher could have at least six months’ experience as a radio preacher,” he said later (because they would preach shorter). While working with Youth for Christ, Wiersbe got a call from Pete Gunther at Moody Publishers, asking about possible book projects. First came Byways of Blessing (1961), an adult devotional; then two more books in 1962, A Guidebook for Teens and Teens Triumphant. He would eventually publish 14 titles with Moody, including William Culbertson: A Man of God (1974), Live Like a King (1976), The Annotated Pilgrim’s Progress (1980), and Ministering to the Mourning (2006), written with his son, David Wiersbe. In 1961, D. B. Eastep invited Wiersbe to join the staff of Calvary Baptist Church in Covington, Kentucky. forming a succession plan that was hastened by Eastep’s sudden death in 1962. Warren and Betty Wiersbe remained at the church for 10 years, until they were surprised by a phone call from The Moody Church. The pastor, Dr. George Sweeting, had just resigned to become president of Moody Bible Institute. Would Wiersbe fill the pulpit, and pray about becoming a candidate? He was already well known to the Chicago church—and to the MBI community. He continued to write for Moody Monthly and had just started a new column, “Insights for the Pastor.” The monthly feature continued to run during the years Wiersbe served at The Moody Church. Wiersbe would become one of the magazine’s most prolific writers—200 articles during a 40-year span. Meanwhile he also started work on the BE series of exegetical commentaries, books that soon found a place on the shelf of every evangelical pastor. His ministry to pastors continued as he spoke at Moody Founder’s Week, Pastors’ Conference, and numerous campus events. He also inherited George Sweeting’s role as host of the popular Songs in the Night radio broadcast, produced by Moody Radio’s Bob Neff and distributed on Moody’s growing network of radio stations. Later in life he would move to Lincoln, Nebraska, where he served as host of the Back to the Bible radio broadcast. He also taught courses on preaching at Trinity Evangelical Divinity School and Grand Rapids Baptist Seminary. He kept writing, eventually publishing more than 150 books and losing track of how many (“I can’t remember them all, and I didn’t save copies of everything,” he said.) Throughout his ministry, Warren Wiersbe described himself as a bridge builder, a reference to his homiletical method of moving “from the world of the Bible to the world of today so that we could get to the other side of glory in Jesus.” As explained by his grandson, Dan Jacobson, “His preferred tools were words, his blueprints were the Scriptures, and his workspace was a self-assembled library.” Several of Wiersbe’s extended family are Moody alums, including a son, David Wiersbe ’76; grandson Dan Jacobsen ’09 and his wife, Kristin (Shirk) Jacobsen ’09; and great-nephew Ryan Smith, a current student. During his long ministry and writing career, Warren Wiersbe covered pretty much every topic, including the inevitability of death. These words from Ministering to the Mourning offer a fitting tribute to his own ministry: We who are in Christ know that if He returns before our time comes to die, we shall be privileged to follow Him home. God’s people are always encouraged by that blessed hope. Yet we must still live each day soberly, realizing that we are mortal and that death may come to us at any time. We pray, “Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom” (Psalm 90:12).

When Our Waiting Will Be Over

My favorite songs are ones that make my heart burn with longing. They’re songs that have unusual power to, as C.S. Lewis put it, rip open my “inconsolable secret” — the secret “which pierces with such sweetness,” yet is so hard to capture in words, since “it is a desire for something that has never actually appeared in our experience” (The Weight of Glory, 29–30). Which is why among my favorites is a song written by Bob and Jordan Kauflin, “When We See Your Face.” The song taps into subterranean longings and triggers profound emotions in me. I am not one to cry easily, but I rarely can listen to it without tears. So, I usually listen to it alone, sparing others the awkwardness of a weeping middle-aged man. Lest it appear suspicious to anyone, let me say up front that I was not asked to promote this song. I asked permission to write about it, receiving no benefit beyond what the song itself delivers — which is a benefit more precious than gold. For my soul very much needs this song’s reminder, especially as another year passes and I am another year older, still fighting against the relentless darkness, still waiting, still desiring something that has never actually appeared in my experience. Not yet. It remains a desire for a promised appearing — an appearing I’m growing to increasingly love (2 Timothy 4:8). I share this song because I assume you also need its precious reminder. And perhaps it will tap into your piercing, sweet, inconsolable secret too. Though the Dark Is Overwhelming Though the dark is overwhelming And the brightest lights grow dim Though the Word of God Is trampled on by foolish men Though the wicked never stumble And abound in every place We will all be humbled when we see Your face It doesn’t take reaching our middle or elder years to know just how dark the world can be. But I can attest now to a cumulative effect it has upon the soul the longer one lives here. And I do not claim to have suffered greatly — yet. Prolonged exposure to confounding darkness is a wearisome experience (Psalm 73:16). It is not merely the physical effects of aging that tempt many of us to retreat from action as we enter the older demographic columns. It’s also the spiritual and psychological effects of prolonged dealing with evil that infects and harms our families, friendships, churches, vocations, societies, and nations. We probably thought ourselves more a match for it in the optimistic bloom of youth, but experience put us in our place. The evil is beyond our strength and our comprehension. Hope can take a beating in the relentless battle against darkness. Until we remember. Until we remember that one day all oppressive darkness will be banished from the experience of the saints (Revelation 22:5), and that even now, even as the darkness rages (Revelation 12:12), it is passing away as the true light shines (1 John 2:8). We remember that we were never supposed to know and understand the evil we face (Genesis 3:7) — of course it’s a wearisome task! Only the Omniscient and Omnipotent can comprehend it and not grow weary (Isaiah 40:28). We remember that he promised us, “In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world” (John 16:33). We remember that our great task, the one way we truly conquer darkness, is to trust him (Proverbs 3:5–6) and obey him (John 14:15). And the great day that will end all night — the day of the joyful humbling of the redeemed righteous and the horrible humbling of the condemned wicked (Philippians 2:10–11) — will be inaugurated when we see the face of Jesus (1 Corinthians 13:12). All Our Sins Will Be Behind Us And the demons we’ve been fighting Those without and those within Will be underneath our feet To never rise again All our sins will be behind us Through the blood of Christ erased And we’ll taste Your kindness when we see Your face I’m so sick of Satan and his wretched wraiths that I don’t even want to give them the attention of a mention — except to say that one day (hear this, you horrid hoard!), the almighty foot of the Son of Man will come down once for all upon the heads of the great dragon and all his infernal snakes, and we will wrestle them no more (Ephesians 6:12; Revelation 20:10). But we also remember something far, far sweeter — and growing sweeter every year we grow older and come more to terms with just how intractable and entwined our demon-like indwelling sin is in the very members of our bodies (Romans 7:23). We remember that our sin will someday be behind us. Oh, we know that Jesus has paid our ransom in full (1 Timothy 2:6) and that by God’s grace through faith (Ephesians 2:8) we have been clothed in Christ’s righteousness (Philippians 3:9), so that God even now sees us justified, as if we had never sinned and always obeyed (Romans 3:26). It is, for now, an almost incomprehensibly glorious thing. But one day, our blood-bought innocence, our holy purity, will cease to be primarily a forensic reality we embrace by faith. On that day we will fully experience what it’s like to be righteous in every atom of our resurrected bodies and every dimension of our eternal, immaterial souls. We will have no more sin. No more tainted motives, no more illicit desires, no more damned selfish ambition. We will know in every part of our being what it’s like to fully obey the Great Commandment as if it’s the most natural thing in the world — for it will be! And we will worship the Lamb who was slain for us with unclouded minds and hearts bursting with joy. We will taste this unfathomably gracious kindness of Jesus when we see his face. All the Waiting Will Be Over All the waiting will be over Every sorrow will be healed All the dreams it seemed Could never be will all be real And You’ll gather us together In Your arms of endless grace As Your Bride forever when we see Your face The waiting will be over. I can’t write that sentence with dry eyes. Most of our Christian experience in this dark valley is hopeful waiting for what we so long to see (Romans 8:25). And much of that waiting is accompanied by hopeful groaning (Romans 8:20): groaning in illness, groaning in grief, groaning in disappointment and perplexity over the terrible, violent brokenness of the world and the inscrutable purposes of our only wise God (Romans 16:27), whose ways are not our ways (Isaiah 55:8). And we hopefully groan, like a bride, with longing for the consummate intimacy of knowing the Lover of our souls, even as we have been fully known (1 Corinthians 13:12). But one day — our Groom has promised it will be “soon” (Revelation 22:20) — the waiting will be over. And he will come, our Hero, of which all legendary heroes are but copies and shadows, and he will save us to the uttermost (Isaiah 35:4; Hebrews 7:25). And all that is dark and diseased and damaged and destroyed will pass away like a bad dream and become the shadows of the great yesterday (Psalm 90:4–5), serving only to heighten our savoring of the bright, eternal today (Revelation 22:5). And of all the light in which we delight, the fairest will be his face. We’ll Be Yours Forevermore We will see, we will know Like we’ve never known before We’ll be found, we’ll be home We’ll be Yours forevermore Having once been lost, we will fully know just how found we are (Luke 19:10). Having once known our Savior in such a small part, we will fully know him — as much as the finite can fully know the Infinite (1 Corinthians 13:12). We will be fully his and fully home — forever. Home. That is our inconsolable secret, isn’t it? That piercing sweetness, that desire for what has never actually appeared in our experience, yet somehow we know it is where we truly belong. I think that’s what this song taps into: our homesickness for a place we’ve not been, and a sense of alienation in the very places we were born. We don’t belong here, where it’s dark, depraved, and demonic, and where our sweetest experience is the blessed hope we taste in the future promises we trust. We long for home. For home is where we will meet the One we have loved, though we have not seen him (1 Peter 1:8). Home is where we will see his face. Article by Jon Bloom

Feedback
Suggestionsuggestion box
x