Undrawn Lines

 It's been a great long while since any posts have been made, but not for lack of inspiration or interest. On the contrary, the inspiration and desire to write new entries has been only increasing, it's the issue of time that restrains. 

 As it stands, my perceptions of things are going through a bit of a metamorphosis. Only time will tell if they're good changes or not.

 On one side, i'm being pulled towards something i can identify as being a narrow line to walk. I will never be justified by rules, and this is apparent because Christ justifies me by grace so that i can never boast. Nevertheless, i've determined to view all things as polarized;

"Those who are not with Me are against Me;"

"Here is how one can distinguish clearly between God’s children and those of the Adversary: everyone who does not continue doing what is right is not from God;"

"We know that we are from God, and that the whole world lies in the power of the Evil One;"

"...every spirit which does not acknowledge Yeshua is not from God — in fact, this is the spirit of the Anti-Messiah;"

"Turn my eyes away from worthless things;"

"All of us are like someone unclean, all our righteous deeds like menstrual rags;"

 It would seem as though the very Word of God tells me to polarize everything i may; to view things as holy or absolutely unrighteous. According to Levitical Law (which many seem to think we can ignore because Christ came), a man who has been touched by the menstrual flow of a woman is made unclean by it--all our righteous deeds are equivalent to the rags by which this blood is absorbed; anything it touches is to be considered unclean. Of course, my attempts at holiness are just the same, but Christ in me is righteousness. Only through Him can anything i do be made clean.

 If the best effort towards righteousness that the world can offer is something that, by contact, makes me unclean, how do i resolve my life to this? God draws pretty sharp lines here, and i'm in conflict as to how to proceed with this. Do i go about in fear of everything so that i don't be made unclean? Of course not! I'm not given a spirit of fear, but of power, of love, and of self-discipline!
 Nevertheless, how do i approach the world? With power and love and self-control. Does this mean all things are permissible? Maybe so, since the whole earth is the Lord's, as well as everything in it. But not all things are helpful or edifying. So again, this same question returns; how do i resolve my life to this?
 If God has drawn such sharp lines, why can't i so easily see them? He knows the false Christians, i don't. He detests the facetious in faith, yet if something proclaims Christ i flock to it. Is it a lack of discernment?

 This is an introspective post. A great deal of turmoil is raging inside of me, and i know that each line i draw just pushes me towards legalism, which i know separates me from God and perverts the Law. But having fewer lines lends my eyes to the side of worthless things.

The Problem of Complacency

Pilate asked him, "Are you the king of the Jews?" And he answered him, "The words are yours." Pilate said to the head cohanim (priests) and the crowds, "I find no ground for a charge against this man." Luke 23:3-4

 In this moment, Pilate questions Jesus by asking if He is the King of the Jews. Jesus says neither yes or no, but instead says, depending on translation, "The words are yours," or, "You have said so."
 The question Pilate asked Jesus was now turning back to him, just as when Peter was telling Him who the people said Jesus was; the real question was, "Who do you say that I am?" Jesus answers Pilate by stating something rather unexpected, "You have said so." Jesus, i believe, is saying that Pilate had at some point acknowledged Jesus as the Christ.

 So how does Pilate react? He turns from Jesus and tells the Jews that he finds no guilt in Jesus. Jesus has been charged with claiming to be the Messiah, and so Pilate asks him a simple question--and he finds no guilt in Him. Jesus didn't deny the charges. It was common knowledge that He was going around preaching the Gospel, healing the sick, raising the dead, making broken people whole. If He called Himself the Christ or the King of the Jews, He was in stark opposition to Caesar, yet He did make the claim.
 Pilate found Him innocent because He was not subverting the government. Speaking truth gives no guilt. So he turns to the crowds, "I find no ground for a charge against this Man." In other words, He claims to be the King, which puts Him at odds with the Emperor, but He is not wrong in Pilate's eyes.

 When the crowd demanded that Pilate carry on his tradition of releasing one prisoner during a festival, he succumbed; he looked for a murderous rebel. He picked someone the crowds would've hated worse. He picked someone who would safeguard Jesus' release.
 Nevertheless, the Jews were stirred into a commotion and asking for Barabbas.

Pilate appealed to them again, because he wanted to release Yeshua. But they yelled, “Put him to death on the stake! Put him to death on the stake!” A third time he asked them, “But what has this man done wrong? I haven’t found any reason to put him to death. So I’m going to have him flogged and set free.” But they went on yelling insistently, demanding that he be executed on the stake; and their shouting prevailed.

 "Why?" he asks. What crime did Jesus commit? Pilate still saw no guilt in the Accused. He didn't see Him as having done a thing wrong, not even in His claiming to be the Christ ("Everyone who claims to be a king is opposing the Emperor!" - John 19:12; in saying he found no guilt in Jesus, he was claiming that Jesus was not wrong in opposing Caesar).
 Even as they demanded Christ's death, Pilate still asked their reason, but according to Matthew's account, they only got louder in demanding His death, to the point that a riot was starting. So in order to keep the peace, he gives in and allows Jesus to be crucified.

When Pilate saw that he was accomplishing nothing, but rather that a riot was starting, he took water, washed his hands in front of the crowd, and said, “My hands are clean of this man’s blood; it’s your responsibility.” (Matthew 27:24)

 He washed his hands because he didn't want the death of the Messiah on his head. Let someone else take the blame. And the Jews agreed to shoulder the responsibility. It would appear as though Pilate got with compliance Scot-free.

 It may seem i'm defending Pilate in all of this, but such is not the case. This particular perspective creates something perhaps worse than seeing him as an accuser.
 He washed his hands. He didn't want the burden. He didn't want the blame. He didn't want the guilt. He wasn't willing to risk his reputation for the man he himself had admitted to believing in. He wasn't willing to change for the sake of the Lord.
 He embodied the modern Church's stance; "I won't let acknowledging Him change my life; won't let it make me uncomfortable or hated."

 What's worse: to not believe, or to believe and not act? Surely the man who can see evil and does nothing about it is far greater an accomplice than the man ignorant of it. If Pilate had not known, that would've been one thing. But to believe and yet still allow it falls on an entirely different order of complacency.

 If we truly believe Jesus to be the Messiah, we better be ready to defend that belief. We must be ready to lay down our reputation, find enmity in our friends, become an enemy of the government, and to lose everything we know and care about for His sake. Because if we don't, we will appease the crowd, wash our hands, and say, "Don't let this affect me."
 In doing so, we are as guilty (nay, more guilty!) as those who don't believe.
 The only way to have clean hands is to have them bathed in Christ's redemptive blood.

The Fear of The Lord

 It's said several times through the Bible, notably in Proverbs but also in Psalms, that the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. The Hebrew word used tin these instances, יִרְאַ֬ת, means fear, awe, or dread. Many of us should set aside the notion that the "fear of the Lord" is simply reverence or respect.

 If a child does something their father has instructed them not to do and the father finds out, there's a myriad of reactions from the child, but some of the more common are confession or denial; either of these relates to the punishment.
 Confession, like pleading guilty in court to minimize your sentence, is used when the child wants to make right and face less discipline. Denial happens when the child wants to get out of the repercussions of their actions, even if it means piling on more disciplinary action when the truth does comes out. Both of these stem from fear--two different versions of fear, but fear nonetheless.
 On the one hand, there is wise defense; on the other, foolish "shrinking away." The fear of a judge's sentence may lean a defendant to either of these, and only the one has wisdom in it; confession leading to repentance.

 The fear of the Lord, when we dig into it, is not running away, but confrontation of one's own wrongdoings, confession and repentance of sin. This isn't simply respect, though.

"...fear him who can destroy both soul and body in Gei-Hinnom (Hell)." Matthew 10:28

 Revere Him who can destroy the soul? No. Reverence is an aspect of fear, but only a fragment of it. We are to revere God above all else, but this is not the intended context at this particular time. In this verse, Jesus is saying to be afraid of God for He can kill the mortal, temporary body, but He alone can also destroy the eternal soul in the fires of Hell. For another verse to put this into context . . .

"It is a terrifying thing to fall into the hands of the living God!" Hebrews 10:31

"We are not the kind who shrink back and are destroyed; on the contrary, we keep trusting and thus preserve our lives!" ibid. vs. 39

 We are to come before Him with trembling and fear, for, as it says, it is terrifying to fall into the hands of the living God. Terrifying. Not respectful, not reverent, not any of those things. Terrifying.
 We come shaking in fear. But nevertheless, we approach. We approach Him because we can. Despite the knowledge that He may throw us into Hell for the sins we've committed, we are to step forward.
 And with the boldness we have to approach Him (how presumptuous of us!), we dare not shrink back nor hide our sin. We tear our clothes, lay ourselves spiritually naked before Him and declare, "Have mercy on me, a sinner!"

 This is another way of seeing the beginning of wisdom: approach God with terror in your heart--but approach nonetheless!
 To recoil is foolishness.

Go To The Ant!

 Go to the ant, you sluggard! Consider her ways and be wise, which, having no captain, overseer or ruler, provides her supplies in the summer, and gathers her food in the harvest. (Proverbs 6:6-8)

 Planning ahead, especially in finances, has never been a strongpoint for me (sometimes a verse just gets personal, you know?), and only recently has any major attempt to change that been made. And while this is often seen as a message for financial responsibility (and sometimes a call for an end of procrastination), there is another, more subtle application we can get from this passage.

 To put this softly, i've been around too many churchgoers outside of church-related functions to be anything but a cynic, and only the fewest (a remnant, if you will) haven't proven the resulting assumptions correct.
 To be slightly more blunt, a lot of people going to Hell will arrive there on a pew. And it's such a tragic thing, it should bring tears to our eyes. In fact, God showed Ezekiel that His judgement would fall on the heads of those who didn't mourn; of the men, women, children, regardless of age, He tells the executioners to "Slaughter them all!" and to "Defile the house! Fill the courtyards with corpses! Get going!" What's more, there's a startling command given; "Begin at my sanctuary."

 The first to receive judgement, it is saying, are those who believe in God, who claim to follow His Law, and yet pass by the crippled man on the side of the road. Those who "love God," but not their fellow man.
And don't get me wrong, "Love always trusts, always hopes, always--" I know. And there is little defense to be made for cynicism, excepting perhaps the fact that we're commanded strictly to avoid those who "retain the outer form of religion but deny its power."
 See, there are those we're to avoid, not just blindly embrace. Love is blind, but it's certainly not stupid. Keeps no record of wrong, but isn't naive. It hopes, but hope is usually encompassed by doubt--or else it would simply be expectation.

 And where this ties up; just because we have witnessed sin and immorality by churchgoers outside of church, if we watch them raise their hands on Sunday and then hear them start cussing or talking about sleeping around with people by Monday, that doesn't mean it has to change us. This is simply those who "retain the outer form of religion but deny its power." They deserve your pity, your groaning, your weeping, your compassion and, if they will hear you, Biblical correction. After all, judgement will come first to those in the sanctuary.
 But go to the ant! It has no leader, no overseer, no ruler; it operates not based on the actions of those around it, but by its own purpose, its own mind, its own work. If you have been wounded because some people look Christian on Sunday but do it all for show, that's between them and God; it's up to each of us to do what is necessary to maintain confidence before Him, which is behaving as His children should.
 Go to the ant. Do not be led astray. Do not look to the left or to the right. Do not look at your "Paul" (your spiritual leader) unless he is of more semblance to Christ than yourself. And should your "Paul" ever stop following Christ, stop imitating Paul, stop following Paul. Look to Christ.
 Imitate Christ so that you may be "Paul" to someone else.

Different View of Favor

 The purpose of this is to maybe set askew the common thought that God's favor somehow implies ease in life.

 Starting off early, we have Noah. Honestly, if i witnessed what he witnessed, i'd have preferred to have been swept away by the waters. All his friends and neighbors, extended family, everyone; wailing and screaming in fear as the first few drops began to fall after the doors of the boat were supernaturally closed. The cries would've grown louder as the rain grew heavier; as the earth itself split to release the firmament from below, the shrieks of men, women, and children would've faded into the roar of water crashing against the sides of the ark. It's hardly a wonder one of the first things he did (after setting up an altar to God) was begin fermenting beverages.
 Next would be Jacob, ever-shadowed by his elder brother, the hunter-gatherer, Esau. His mother, nigh as deceitful as himself, devised a plan to get Jacob the birthright. But what good is a birthright if he leaves his home? He works for his uncle for the better part of a decade, only to get the wrong girl, and then another seven years he labors for the girl he truly wanted--and her womb was closed up. Leah bore him child after child, and yet Rachel, his love, is left without child for decades. She became desperate (as did Jacob) and, after Leah had stopped bearing children, offered Jacob her slave-girl, Bilhah. He bore two sons through her. And Leah then offered her own slave-girl, Zilpah, who then bore two more sons. Eventually, Rachel is able to conceive, and her son is named Joseph, who is betrayed by his brothers and sold into slavery, leaving Jacob to mourn his faked-death. Joseph, the favorite of Jacob, eventually led the Hebrews into Egypt.
 Next comes Moses, that one fellow who was abandoned as a child, raised by those who oppressed his family, flees, marries a woman of another land (and is ridiculed for it), and mocked by his adopted brother.
 Job, the besieged, is chosen to be the target of Satan because God saw him to be a faithful man. God favored him, therefore torment was everywhere in this man's life as Satan wreaked havoc in all the authority that God allowed him to have over Job; wealth, possessions, family, health, everything. Boils upon boils, resulting an insatiable itch covering the entirety of his body that would've felt as an acidic burn if he'd tried to scratch. This man was favored by God. This distraught, helpless, poor man sitting in the ashes of his life.
 Ezekiel's wife dies, and he's commanded not to mourn or weep for her.
 David is hunted by his king like an animal.
 The author of Lamentations, presumably Jeremiah, describes his skin having sloughed off, his bones broken, his teeth shattered by gravel; he speaks of children fainting in the streets, begging for something to drink, dying in the arms of their mothers ("gasping out their last breath in their mother's bosom"); "the children I held in my arms and raised, my enemy has destroyed," he says. If there is a more tragic sight (other than that of a Father watching His only begotten Son, blameless and holy, beaten and tortured, naked and nailed to an execution stake like a criminal) i'd rather not know of it.
 Paul is described as not knowing what he would suffer for Christ's sake, and yet was one we would call favored.
 The greatest affliction, that of Christ on the cross (dubbed his "being glorified"), dripping with the sin of the world; this Man, the only begotten Son of God. Hardly an image of favor. Or is it?

 In all these examples, it would seem the greater the suffering, the greater the favor God has for the object of affliction. We are told in Romans 5 that tribulations bring...hope.
 God promises to withhold no good thing from those He favors, and that all things work out for good for those who love Him and are called according to His purpose. Some examples of good things are love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, humility, self control; what of these do not come about except through some sort of suffering? 1 Corinthians 13 says love is, first and foremost, long-suffering; that, if we love, we will suffer long for it. Understanding of joy does not come unless one knows misery. Peace does not come without war; patience without situations that would call for great unrest; kindness without circumstances where one has been treated cruelly; all of these qualities require a grasp of their antonym, an understanding of their absence.
 And God will withhold no good thing from those He favors. Those who love Him and are called according to His good purpose are guaranteed scenarios in which these fruits of the Spirit will have the fertile, volcanic soil where they may blossom and grow (intense struggles). He also promises that, through perseverance, these fruits will set.
 Without rain, there is no harvest. Without trial, no judgement--or mercy.
 He will not leave His favored ones without struggle, or else they would bear no Spiritual fruit.

On Bearing Fruit . . .

 Wisdom is know by her children. Another way of saying that is she is know by her fruit. What we reap is evidence of what we've sown. Everything planted underground, which is that what we put in secret and cover and water, will sprout. If one is, in secret, a sinner, it will grow into greater sin. If one is righteous in secret, it likewise will grow into greater righteousness. This is the nature of the supernatural; it is always a seed that will grow. This is why Jesus constantly refers to the Spiritual as having to do with fields, vineyards, crops, seeds, soil, etc. It's because it must be watered, must be kept, must be weeded, must be guarded. All things, we are given accountability to.

 But when we ourselves become the proverbial fig tree . . . What must we do?

 Bear fruit.

 Now, i'm not talking about some simple thing we can manage of our own accord; "Random Acts of Kindness," anyone can do. Not to say that specific gesture is without credence, but it's hardly a fruit of the Spirit when the world is just as capable as us. That could be, with the correct motive (glory given to God), a fruit of the Spirit, if we are led to it. But that's not what separates Christians from the world.

 Anyone can love those who are pleasant and lovely, which is why Jesus told us specifically to love our enemies. We are to love our neighbors as ourselves, and our neighbor is anyone put in our path, not merely the person of close residence. Neighbors are often our enemies, and enemies are often our neighbors, because those who wish us harm are oftentimes those who we are or have associated with.

 Do you know what it means to love an enemy? Do you know what it feels like to shake hands and to hug someone whom you know to be devising against you? Do you know what it's like to genuinely hope for their well-being?
 It's probably pretty difficult. In fact, i'd even dare say it's impossible for the flesh to accomplish some such feats.

 In 2006, in Pennsylvania, an armed man entered an Amish schoolroom of girls ranging from 6-13 years old with the intention of molestation. He killed five of them, and shot more. This would seem an unforgivable act. But there are those who are entirely unworldly, who are no more of this world than Christ is, who are able to attend the funeral of the perpetrator, look his family in the eyes and embrace them, and even contribute to his family's well-being. They forgave something i (and most others) could never dream of forgiving.

 Mark 11 tells us of Jesus being hungry and seeing a fig tree in leaf, though out of season for figs. Regardless, He approached it and found none on it, so He cursed it. The next morning, He and His disciples were passing back by and saw that it had died completely to its roots. It concludes with a message about faith, and He says, "whenever you stand praying, forgive, if you have anything against anyone, so that your Father also who is in heaven may forgive you your trespasses." (v. 25)

 There are some interesting details about that little occurrence. For one, it was out of season for figs. Despite that, Jesus still cursed it. Another thing is He would've known before approaching it that it had no figs, not just because it was out of season but also because He is Christ--He knows things.

 Christ doesn't want us to produce only when we're in season, only when we're strong in faith or ready to take on a mission. He wants us producing now. At His approach. And the sad thing is, that tree reflects so many Christians. It's green. Looks healthy. It's in leaf. But it has no fruit.
 A quote i often sarcastically use is, "We're all about appearances here." That's exactly how so many Christians these days are, though; as long as we look Christian, as long as we give the appearance, we're okay. But no, this is fruitlessness!

 We don't even produce fruit in season (when things are going well), let alone out of season (we curse the sky when it falls--praise God for holding it up as long as He has!).

 If we're patient and loving and gentle and faithful (and the rest of the list from Galatians 5:22-23) when we have a roof over our heads, financial and emotional and physical security, and when we're healthy and have a computer to blog on, that we're doing pretty good at living by the Spirit and bearing good fruit.
 Take it all away; no water, no heat, no shelter, sleeping on the ground in the rain, eating the refuse of others, what do we have? Joy? Peace? This is the out-of-season that God expects us to bear fruit in. This is His approach. And if we can't offer such fruits as He asks for when we have nothing else, when we just have Him before us and asking us to be patient and self-controlled, we will be cursed and will wither to the roots, fit and ready to be thrown into the fire.

 It's not enough to simply be Christian. We have to be like Christ. It was not yet His "season," and even still He turned water to wine--the best wine at that.

 We can't settle for loving those that love us, but no less than compassionate for those that harm us. While we are still enemies, we must be reconciled to others that wish ill against us. This is bearing fruit out of season. Any fig tree can produce in season, but it takes one living for Christ to produce fruit out of season. Any worldly person can love those that love them, but it takes a Christian to truly and selflessly lay down their life for someone that hates them. And this is what Christ demands of us.

 Disclaimer: i am by no means perfect. I could not, presently, do as i've been writing. Forgiving a minor offense is simple enough. Love always trusts, though, and i'm one of the most untrusting people there is. I have witnessed too many hypocrites (of which i am the chief)--i don't want to see a perfect person, i just want to see people genuinely trying. And that's where the problem lies; i have too long been around too many churched people outside of Christian gatherings to trust but the fewest of few, because "nobody's perfect," so they refuse to even try to be Christian outside of the church walls.

 Tallying it up, there are literally six people outside of immediate family that have my legitimate trust. And i've learned that people are people; my faith does not rest in their faith. To see any of these fall, i've learned to callous myself in this way, would not make me falter.

Fruit of The Spirit pt. II

Some time back, i came to a conclusion about the "Fruits of The Spirit," and recently came to realize something supplemental to that post.

What does an apple tree produce?
Seems a rather pointless question; the obvious answer is apples.
A pear tree produces pears, an orange tree produces oranges, oak tree produces acorns, so on and so forth. A tree produces whatever it's assigned to producing. The thing is, though, it doesn't have to be careful about what it produces. It just does.
An apple tree doesn't have to concern itself with producing apples or not producing peaches. It is given unto producing apples by its nature.
When we give up our earthly nature for Christ's (to be grafted in Him), we don't have to be anxious about what we're producing. A Spirit-borne person will produce Spirit-borne fruit. It just happens because our nature changes into the extraordinary, and the "worldly fruit" (that of self-destruction) is no longer part of us.

If you're going around trying to make sure you're doing things that are of the Spirit, being worried or anxious about what kind of fruit your life is producing, here's part of a verse that i've been fascinated with lately; "Be still, and know that I am God."
Settle down. Relax. Take a breath, and focus on that fact. He's God, He will work through you, will cultivate you. And you don't have to be preoccupied with living a holy life because, frankly, neither you nor i are holy--Christ in us is. Christ in you is righteous. Christ in you is the fruit of the Spirit exuded. It's not by you that you produce Spirit-borne fruit, but by the grace of God through Christ.

Only by acknowledging ourselves as unrighteous can humility be concreted.
Thinking we're worthy of anything, even of being called by Christ to follow Him to our death, is vanity and self-righteousness.
By acknowledging that we're unable to produce wholly good things of our own accord is to confess in our heart that we need Christ for anything and everything. And in the realization of our need for Him, we likewise become compelled to live accordingly, as though we're striving to earn the goodness of Christ's effects on our lives. But we must continually remind ourselves, it's not by our works, it's not by our wills. It's by grace alone that we can do anything good, and so we remind ourselves also to live as Christ-like as we can.

All Things Work Together for Good . . .

Romans 8:28.
Many of us have it memorized without knowing what verse of what chapter of what book it's in.
"Furthermore, we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called in accordance with His purpose;"

That's the CJB translation. That verse doesn't apply to everyone, obviously. "Those who love God and are called in accordance with His purpose."

This verse is speaking specifically to the "called" to God. Some have a natural tendency towards faith, and what a blessing that must be.

But let's look at the two promises in this.

"We know that God causes everything to work together for the good . . ."

That is only one statement, but two things are actually being promised here.

First, we have things working out for the good of God's people. This seems a joyous promise -and oh, how it is!- but we must look at what good is when it comes to humanity. Good is the fruit of the Spirit. Good is loving, good is humility, good is being gentle, good is having hope, good is . . . Good is such matters.

Now look at some other verses for the second promise of this.

Romans 5:3-5;

"But not only that, let us also boast in our troubles; because we know that trouble produces endurance, endurance produces character, and character produces hope; and this hope does not let us down, because God’s love for us has already been poured out in our hearts through the Ruach HaKodesh (Holy Spirit) who has been given to us."

2 Corinthians 12:7;

"Therefore, to keep me from becoming overly proud, I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger from the Adversary to pound away at me, so that I wouldn’t grow conceited."

1 Corinthians 13:4-7;

"Love is patient and kind, not jealous, not boastful,

not proud, rude or selfish, not easily angered,
and it keeps no record of wrongs.
Love does not gloat over other people’s sins
but takes its delight in the truth.
Love always bears up, always trusts,
always hopes, always endures."

Now, look at those verses. These are how we gain hope, humility, and love (for many years, I did not know that 1 Corinthians 13 was a poem), respectively.

1) Hope; through tribulation, trouble, suffering, pain, misery . . . Despair! The very antonym of hope is the means by which we achieve it. We must suffer to gain hope.

We must suffer to achieve this good--and not by our own means, but by the Holy Spirit. Not only are we to accept our trials, but we're to delight in them because they will be used by God for our good.

2) Humility; through a thorn in the flesh, through a messenger of Satan himself. It was likely a constant reminder of his past (it could be anything, but i perceive it to be a memory, possibly of a Christian he'd killed "in the name of God." But that's just my imagination). It was this very thing, this demon, this tormentor, this thing "pound[ing] away" at him that kept him humble.

Humility achieved through, again, suffering. God used this suffering for good.

3) Love; we often think of this passage as being all kind and sweet and soft and mellow . . . But it should be applied to us.

Someone getting on your nerves and not leaving you alone? Be patient (or, literally, long-suffering; suffer endlessly through what you're being put through; that is love).
Return evil with kindness. Don't be jealous that someone who has wronged you is being promoted over you--be happy for them. Don't boast that you have this certain skill, or you have achieved something great. Don't build yourself up in the eyes of others, but elevate them. If someone insults you, hold your tongue; don't be rude, but rather, again, kind.
So on and so forth.

This isn't so easy when it's seen as an application for your own life. Are you living in love?
Do you forgive completely, keeping no record of wrongs (not seven times, but seventy times seven; that's how often we're to forgive a person in a single day--losing track of their sins against us probably around the fourth or fifth)? Do you always bear up, though you have little encouragement to offer? Are you always trusting, to the point of naivete? Do you always have a hopeful perspective to a situation, confident that God is in control, even to the loss of a loved one? Do you persevere, enduring to the end, despite being in a sea where the end is a horizon that is retreating at the exact same pace in which you pursue it?

That is what good is. It's self-sacrifice. It's loss of self for the benefit of others. Our love is good, because it is selfless.

Now, let's look again at Romans 8:28; "Furthermore, we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called in accordance with His purpose;"

See the second promise in this? God is promising we will be tested, we will be stressed, we will suffer, we will know despair and pain and torment.

But the first promise, the obvious one, says that He will work it together for our good, if we wait it out. If we trust. If we hope. If we endure.