Blessing

In reflecting on where David Platt has taken me on the journey through Radical, my thought-they-were-already-enlightened eyes have been opened. What is sticking with me is: "The key is realizing - and believing - that this world is not your home." (p179)

I feel this fact often, as I collide with the fallenness of this world. I live this fact often, as my own fallenness leaks out through my pores and into my actions (and inaction). Yet my survival instinct gains the upper hand, and I build my little nest, made of the comforts available to me. The Lord is my refuge, as Psalm 91 proclaims and He provides solace in the midst of the world's brokenness and blessings sweet enough to tantalize our imaginations of heaven - but to what end?. 

His blessings are to give us strength to live out our created purpose. Instead of huddling in bubbles of escape from the harm suffered by others, He gives us His boldness to go to people that convention has abandoned. Instead of words of violence in defense of institutions whose founder needs none, He gives us His Word of truth, grace, and hope to speak in a world devoid of each. Instead of grasping hands clinging to this world's fading comforts, He gives us His healing hands to extend into a deeply wounded world.

Lord of the universe and of my life, I surrender it once again - not that You might bless me, but that You might use me to bless this world that needs You more than anything.

Who Do I Think I Am?

To be honest, I'm not at all comfortable with the idea that a person who does not trust in Jesus Christ as their Lord ends up in hell, regardless of whether they heard about him or not. But that's what he said. I say I believe in him. Do I really believe him? When he says things that make me uncomfortable?

Maybe the real problem is what leaves me comfortable. I'm pretty comfortable living as if those around me, even those I care for, don't really need to hear or be enlightened and transformed by this Truth called Jesus... like I do. I'm comfortable living as if they don't really need to be guided through life's questions, pitfalls, and quagmires by this Way called Jesus... like I do. I'm comfortable living as if they don't really need to be reborn, restored, and renewed into this Life called Jesus... like I do. Who do I think I am?

Lord, You have blessed me beyond my comprehension: you forgave me, you redeemed me, you healed me, you restored me, you gave me hope of new and eternal life. And I am blessed to be a blessing. Lord, please change my heart to love more like yours, my arms to reach out more like yours, and my feet to follow after yours.

Giving All You've Got

One of the struggles in stewardship (maybe the biggest hurdle for most) is that it so often seems like an all-or-nothing proposition. Frankly, that situation is even exacerbated by a superficial reading of the story of the rich young man in Mark 10:17-31. A superficial reading would naturally lead us to conclude that unless we live the life of a possession-less missionary, we're not true followers of Christ. And that's a downer that is pretty difficult to get over.

It was only studying this passage just recently that I think I might be starting to get Jesus' point - and it's right in the middle, trying to get our full attention: “With man this is impossible, but not with God; all things are possible with God.” Whether its wealth, or possessions, or family (I'm reading God's command of Abraham to sacrifice Isaac in Genesis 22:1-18 differently now), or land that we're holding on to for our security, we're doomed. God want us to cling to and put our full faith in Him, the source of anything we could possibly need, not the blessings that He so richly gives us and the rest of the world.

God isn't asking us to give up what we need in order to be utterly barren. God is asking us to let go of what we think we need in order that He can fully bless us (to be a blessing) through our faith in Him.

In light of all this, the question I'm pondering is: "What am I holding onto that might be getting in God's way?"

First Response

A group I'm in is struggling through a book, Amish Peace, by Suzanne Woods Fisher. Although there are some 'simple wisdom[s] for a complicated world,' my critical-thinking group has tired of its oversimplification.  However, today, starting the section on Forgiveness, I stumbled on some meat.

The first few chapters tell stories of unfortunate and, some, avoidable tragedies: the West Nickel Mines School shooting in October 2006 and various car v. buggy crashes. The Amish response to these tragedies was opening their arms, accepting all of those who were touched by it, not retreating into themselves or their community. How challenging.

My first response to hurt is to withdraw because of the pain, which may hold the one who hurt me hostage – especially if I never explicitly forgive her. Perhaps the Amish community-oriented lifestyle allows them to reach out because they live in a supported/secure environment. They never doubt the existence of a loving God (p. 153). [That's different.]

Talking with a friend yesterday, I reasserted my belief that we must allow the emotions of Grief to flow out – or else they will stay wedged in our hearts for too long, becoming toxic. Anger, frustration, and sadness can plant seeds of Doubt in the heart. Doubt in the existence of a loving God, doubt in His Truth and provision, doubt in our acceptance/adoption/inheritance as His beloved children.

All that I staunchly believe. But, I know that everyone grieves differently. I know that we are not trained in how to grieve. Our society does not want to acknowledge Grief as a part of Life, and so it ignores it as long, and as much, as it can. So, we must learn how to grieve while we are in grief, which extends the process.

“We just have to keep going on with life” (p. 154). True. Reality will not change, no matter how much we wish it would. Moving on is necessary. But I think moving on in a healthy way requires letting go of those emotions, which means working through them.

The Expectations I put on life are some of the toughest things to let go. I want to believe that I won't experience tragedy. [The reality is that I will.] I want to believe that my needs will be met. [The reality is that I am already Needy.] I want to believe that life will be smooth-sailing. [The reality is that rough seas are ahead.] I must hold to God as my Rock in the calm and in the storm. The whole Testament pounds the reality of His Faithful Pursuit into my heart. Every time Israel failed, God took them back. Every time I fail, He is waiting. Taking all my emotions to my Father helps me struggle through what I feel, what I don't understand, what I don't like.

Do I hold onto the belief that out of tragedy will come blessing? (p. 157).

[Do I Trust Him that much?]