Bill Johnson - How to Rediscover Your First Love
It doesn’t mean where I was was wrong; it just means there’s more, and I have to leave something behind to get there. See, you can only live where you’ve died. If you could picture a grain of wheat, you have the stem, and the wheat grows, and around each grain of wheat is chaff. All success has chaff, which basically means every bit of progress we make has something to be discarded. Not knowing that causes us to embrace things that the Lord wants to free us from. They’re not evil things; they’re just unnecessary things. I can feel it—I wish I had better language, but it won’t leave me alone, so I’m going to keep talking until I say something. That’s what Larry Randolph used to tell us: «I’m going to keep talking until I say something.»
I believe that the Lord will bring us into a place of personal intimacy and personal breakthrough tonight—not someday, but actually right now. In a way that’s fresh for every one of us, there’s a door to freshness. It doesn’t mean where I was was wrong; it just means there’s more, and I have to leave something behind to get there. See, you can only live where you’ve died, and so when He invites us to come deeper, there’s that abandonment we come with. We come with that surrender. It doesn’t necessarily mean that anything is wrong; it just means that sometimes we hold onto things that are simply unnecessary in God’s purpose and plan for our lives.
In Revelation chapter 2, there’s a passage about first love. The Lord speaks to the church in Ephesus and compliments them first for what they’ve done right. They were a church that understood spiritual authority unusually well. They could spot false apostles and bring adjustment to order and structure—they did it well. However, in structuring things, they lost the passion. They had good order and a clear understanding of government, but there’s this strange thing about government in the Bible; it isn’t bad. Government is absolutely righteous and ordained of God.
One unusual picture of government in the Bible is in the Book of Revelation, which describes the bride coming down out of heaven, four-square, fifteen hundred by fifteen hundred—a most unusual image. It gets kind of confusing until you realize that all structure is supposed to come out of romance. It keeps things tender and simple. The Apostle Paul talked about the simplicity of devotion to Christ—one of my favorite phrases that he uses: the simplicity of devotion. The problem with maturity is that you can become impressed by your own growth. It’s still all by grace. On my best day, it’s only by grace—it’s all by grace. There’s something about remaining childlike.
I’ve been talking—I have a message for tonight, but I may just scrap it; we’ll see. No promises yet. I’ve been talking a lot in recent days about longevity; it’s really been on my heart. I’ve noticed people in Scripture where some did well and some didn’t. Some of you perhaps were here when I talked about Hezekiah. I’ve done it quite a few times in recent months. He did so well; he was one of my favorite reformers—possibly my two most favorite reformers in all of history—and yet he ended so poorly. Something happened where he lost the tenderness; he lost the fire. He still maintained the routine; I’m sure he still gave sacrifices to the Lord. They still had the songs; they still had the worship because he restored Davidic worship.
But something happened when he had a history of crying out to God during crises. Surrounded by enemy nations and about to be destroyed, they cried out to God. God gave them prophetic direction, they took it, and God delivered them. Isaiah told him he had a disease from which he would die. He cried out to God, and God brought a word to him: «I’m going to add 15 years to your life.» But when he became complacent, he misbehaved, and the Lord brought a word that there would be great difficulty for his descendants, specifically his sons being carried off to Babylon and made eunuchs. He had a history with God—he cried out, and God met him, bringing deliverance.
He received the worst possible news of his life, but it came at a time when he was complacent, and he failed to respond with childlike faith to achieve a breakthrough. Sometimes we grow past our passion; sometimes we grow past that fire within us, and I’m sharing most of this as a personal confession of determination to ensure that I keep things simple. We didn’t get to this place because we were intelligent. I believe in intelligence; sanctified intelligence is glorious. I have friends I admire for their brilliance—what God has given them is stunning. I look at the teaching gifts we have in this house; I’m amazed by their brilliance week after week.
I’m thankful for insight; I’m thankful for intelligence; I’m thankful for revelational knowledge of the Word. But I can’t afford to let this become bigger than this. I can feel it; I can feel it in my heart right now—it’s at hand for me. I know the Lord wants to give me more insight. I can feel His heart is to satisfy the quest we have to understand His ways and His purpose for why He has brought us together from the four corners of the earth. There are many places around the world where God is moving, and this happens to be one. I’m so thankful, but none of it is because of any of our significance. I remind you the Lord spoke to Israel, saying, «I chose you because you were the least.» Run that over in your head a few times. The moment you start becoming impressed with your success, remember: all success has chaff.
It has good, but it also has something worth burning. Strange message, huh? I’ll do it again later when I get my act together, but right now I’m just bumbling through this. I believe tonight we’re to have an altar call where all of us come, and to make it work, I may just bring the altar to you. I believe we’re supposed to pray into this next—I want to say season, but for me, it’s this next moment. I’m not thinking about my potential; I’m not thinking about my goals or my vision. We’re supposed to carry those, and that’s the bulk of what we emphasize here. We talk mostly about our identity and where we’re headed—the assignment God has given us. We’re here to shape the course of world history; I believe all that. But in this moment, all I am is a son that needs a dad—a father, a wonderful father.
I was thinking earlier today about this statement Jesus made in Matthew 6:33: «Seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.» Say that with me: «Seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.» Say it again: «Seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you.» Let me tell you what that means to me: it means that every action, every thought, every ambition, and every possession—everything about my life—I am to seek first the absolute dominion of a perfect, loving Father until His own nature flows in and through me. Seeking first His righteousness, His very person, His very being, His very nature is evident and seen in and through me. It’s not that we’re to decrease or disappear, but His significance is really the only place I have found significance.