Leaving to serve overseas was easiest when we traveled with our children. It gets more tender as parents age—and more tender still when the goodbye includes grandchildren.
And yet, in God’s economy, we keep trusting this: as we leave one beloved circle, we’re being sent to bring good news to other families. We don’t “trade” our family for ministry. We carry our family in our hearts—and we keep walking.
This week I’m with Deanna at a Global Missions Conference in Texas. Next week I continue on to Brazil while Deanna returns to Canada to continue the final “mop-up” stage of her cancer treatment plan. She is cancer-free, and now we’re future-proofing—steady steps, one appointment at a time.
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The Test We Want to Pass
I once sat across from a leader who’d just been pushed out of the organization he’d spent twenty years building. The promotion everyone expected him to get went to someone else, and it felt painfully unfair.
“I did everything right,” he said—bewildered, like someone who trained for a marathon and showed up on race day only to discover the finish line was moved.
I had no neat answers that afternoon. Just presence. And the memory of my own seasons when integrity felt like showing up to a rigged game.
That’s why Psalm 7 hits me so hard.
David is running—again—from enemies whose accusations don’t match reality. He’s leading, serving, and still being treated like the villain. So he does what we often forget to do when we’re exhausted and misunderstood:
He asks God to get involved.
Not just to observe… but to arise. To stir Himself. To test everyone—including David.
That is a gutsy prayer.
But when you’re tired of watching people “advance” by unfair advantages, you start praying differently. David basically says:
“Lord… examine me. Examine them. Let the truth come out. I’m willing to be tested—if you’ll be the One holding the clipboard.”
Judgment as Training (a surprise twist)
Midway through the psalm, the scene shifts.
Suddenly, we’re in the throne room. The assembly of peoples surrounds God, and He takes His seat—not as an arbitrary judge slamming a gavel from a distance, but as an examiner… the One who tests hearts and minds.
Here’s the metaphor that helps me:
God isn’t a dramatic courtroom judge. He’s more like the licensing examiner who rides with you during your road test.
Do you check your blind spot?
Do you signal when it’s inconvenient?
Do you stay calm when someone cuts you off?
Do you keep telling the truth when a lie would “solve” things faster?
The test isn’t about perfection. It’s about what you default to under pressure.
David understands something many leaders learn the hard way:
Life is a training ground.
And God’s “judgment” is often His way of preparing us for real weight, real influence, real authority.
So the questions become painfully practical:
Can you lead when no one is watching?
Can you stay generous when resources are tight?
Can you tell the truth when a lie would be easier?
Can you forgive when bitterness feels justified?
Can you keep serving when the promotion goes to someone else?
God tests hearts and minds because He’s interested in formation, who we’re becoming, whether we can carry weight without collapsing, whether we can hold power without abusing it, and whether we can lead without performing.
And then David says the line that steadies me:
“My shield is with God, who saves the upright in heart.”
In other words:
“Test me… and help me pass. And (Lord) please test those other guys too.”
(Yes, we can relate to Scripture because human nature hasn’t changed.)
Natural Consequences
This is where Psalm 7 turns sobering.
David describes people who dig pits for others…and fall into them. People who scheme and manipulate…and end up wounded by their own strategies.
It’s not vindictive. It’s diagnostic.
Because God isn’t only judging individual actions—He’s judging the Adversary, the ancient voice that whispers: “Get ahead. Protect yourself. Use people. Win at any cost.”
God lets people choose… but the choice comes with consequences built into the fabric of reality.
And that’s why David ends with gratitude and worship: He leans into the tests because he knows God is not against him—God is for him, training him like a Father trains a son.
The Way Worth It
My friend never got that promotion.
But twelve years later, he was leading in a completely different context—one that required exactly the kind of character forged in the furnace of being sidelined.
Twelve years can feel like forever. But in the light of eternity, it’s less than a blink.
Hebrews tells us some people don’t see what they were hoping for on this side of heaven—and yet it is still way worth it to hold Jesus’ hand and keep walking.
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Psalm 7 Reflection
(for the Bible nerds and the tired hearts)
Note: This is based on the New American Standard Bible, but I removed verse numbers and formatted it to make David’s flow easier to see.
This psalm has three movements and a landing:
Refuge + self-examination David runs to God and courageously asks to be examined for hidden flaws.
The Heavenly Throne Room
Blue/green: David speaking to God
Purple: The narrator’s voice shows us the courtroom. Unexpectedly, “judgment” looks like God testing hearts and minds—because He wants to know who He can trust.
Consequences of the wrong voice A clear picture of how deception collapses under its own weight.
Ending: David returns to worship—back under the Tree of Life, back into relationship.
A Suggested Meditation (simple, but not easy)
Find a place where you can be alone for a few minutes.
Read the center section using two voices:
Your normal voice for David’s words (blue/green).
Then pretend you have a megaphone and you’re a movie director for the narrator (purple).
Read it slowly seven times in a row, every day this week.
Pay attention to what shifts in you. Did your faith increase? Did your nervous system settle? Did you feel God’s steadiness under your feet?
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Deanna’s Journey to Healing
This week, Deanna recovered from radiation burns while we were here in Texas. The severity is lessening, and she’s on the mend.
Now she has the targeted therapy: a bag of clear medicine plugged into her port once every three weeks, six more times.
We’re grateful. And we’re learning (again) that healing is often a process, not a button you push.
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Prayer Requests
Continued healing and strength for Deanna, especially as she travels back to Abbotsford.
The sale of the mission property in Marabá. I met with lawyers again yesterday. A buyer is interested, but the process is complex and time-consuming.
Wisdom and grace as I travel to Brazil next week, a re-entry after nine months away.
Fruit from this Missions Conference, divine connections, aligned partnerships, and Spirit-led next steps.
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A Word from This Week
Rob and Liz are here at the conference. Next month they’re leading a prayer team to Portugal, and in March we’ll meet them, along with Milton and Luanne (Vineyard Brazil leaders), in Porto.
Canada has a strong presence at this global gathering, and several have flown in from other continents. And the Americans are incredibly generous and passionate about mission work. Our countries have a long history of missions. I’m humbled and grateful for our shared hunger: How can we work together even more?
Also… I saw wild deer on early morning walks.
It felt like a small parable: quiet strength, watchful eyes, unhurried movement, creatures that don’t need to prove anything to anyone. They just live the life they were made for.
Sometimes that’s the invitation for leaders, too.
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Prayer
God, arise. Stir Yourself. Train me.
Because I would rather know I can be trusted by You Than succeed by methods That erode my soul.
I want relationship with You More than I want shortcuts.
Shape my heart through every situation. Help me pass— Because I’m Yours.
