where waves grow sweet

When people do not accept divine guidance, they run wild. But whoever obeys the law is joyful. Proverbs 29:18 NLT

I don’t have stellar eyesight, but didn’t realize it until a few years back when a coworker pointed out that my face was close enough to my computer to kiss it… and I was still squinting. My handy Costco optometrist discovered the problem: astigmatism, which means that my eyeballs are football shaped instead of volleyball shaped. In practical terms, it means that everything is slightly distorted or kind of soft and fuzzy. Not the sort of issue that interferes much with life, and actually lends a nice impressionistic look to things. There are times, however, when it proves to be quite ineffectual. Say, for instance, when I’m on the freeway trying to make out the words that would tell me where to get off.

When I got my glasses, the soft glow of life found definition. As it turns out, I don’t look nearly as young as I thought. No wonder I don’t get carded anymore. And things I thought were clean, like bookshelves or the corners of my room, apparently were not. So I restricted the wearing of my glasses to special occasions. Like at work while trying not to romance my computer. Or on the freeway while trying to avoid another accidental crossing of the Mexican border. But on other occasions, like looking in the mirror or taking in my surroundings, I pretended that reality is what I perceived through imperfect vision. It seemed to spare my vanity unnecessary grief.

Lame, I know. But I don’t think I’m totally unique here. We tend to like the edges of our lives softened. We feel better about ourselves that way. The world likes us better that way. It’s not that we don’t want truth. We do, but the purity of the Word can bring some shocking definition to our thoughts and desires. It’s not always such a pretty image. So we seek it out only in small measure. Or in certain circumstances, like when we’re in crisis mode on the freeway, and not in others, like when we’re standing in front of the mirror.

I now wear contacts, which is a good thing because it’s inconvenient to take them out every time I want to avoid something unpleasant. I’m able to see things I couldn’t see before and make some good changes. Like choosing to accept who I am and what I look like. Or clean things that are dirty. I was particularly glad this morning when I looked in the mirror and was able to quickly identify and remove the cheese on my eyebrow before heading into work. I’m also happy to report that I’m learning to enjoy the vision the Word is bringing, as it helps me to accept some things, clean up others, and most definitely get me where I need to go.

Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’”Matthew 22:37-39

I wanted to expound on my last post but it was late and, since I had wake up at o-dark-thirty to get Cole to sailing lessons before work, I posted what I had and drifted into dreamless slumber on my striped pillow. What I shared I believe to be very true, but there is more.

Focusing on the truth about ourselves is like one side of an Oreo; tasty but incomplete. Focusing on the truth about others is like the other side; still tasty but still incomplete. What really sets an Oreo apart and holds everything together is that mysterious white stuff in the middle. Let’s pretend for the moment that the mystery has nothing to do with lard, but with recognizing the authority of God.

As discussed in the last post, we are called to fix our eyes on what is real (what God says about us) rather than on what is counterfeit (what we, others, or the enemy say about us). Our shortcomings do not change our identity or God’s view of us, ever. Who we are is fact, as established by the Creator himself. As this becomes our focus, our lives will naturally reflect it.

God didn’t just create us with a true identity, but he did the same for all his people. So we, as loved individuals (see previous paragraph), are called out of our natural understanding of the people around us and into a supernatural understanding. “How does such a thing occur?,” you may ask. Once again, it is by focusing on their value (what God says is true) rather than on their shortcomings (what we perceive to be true). What will naturally follow is that our hearts will see beyond behavior and love others for real.

As you may already have realized, we can’t stand firm in any of this if we haven’t recognized God’s authority. So, really, our first step is to fix our eyes on what he has said about himself and let the purity of that truth corrode every shadow, doubt, and accusation we have against his character. If ever there was solid ground on which to stand, this is it. It also happens to be the tasty mystery that holds everything else in its place.

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable–if anything is excellent or praiseworthy–think about such things. Philippians 4:8

I remember being told that when bank tellers are trained, they become so intimately familiar with the feel of real currency through the intentional handling of legit bills that they are able to recognize the feel of a counterfeit bill. I have no idea if this is true, but it’s a great example. If you think about it, there are many ways and materials by which fake money can be produced and it would follow that each would feel slightly different. Yet there is one way to produce the real thing and every bill will always be the same. So it makes sense that the surest way to identify the countless things that don’t belong is to recognize what does belong.

A friend and I have both struggled with self-condemnation and perfectionism, wanting so desperately to please God and feeling a persistent sense of failure. We have both come far, but not to the point of the issue being found only in our personal history books. During a prayer time together today, the above verse came to mind, expanded in my heart, and became so suddenly clear to me.

We were never called to focus on our sin. To acknowledge it, yes. To receive forgiveness and turn from it, absolutely. But to fix our eyes there is like trying to learn every single form of counterfeit money. There will never be an end because it will always pop up in some new form. Talk about an overwhelming task and persistent sense of failure.

Instead, we were called to focus on what God says is true about us. It is simple, genuine, and unchanging. As we set our minds to the intentional handling of the truth based on the authority of God himself, we will be able to recognize it as authentic. It will become so familiar, that any thought or action that is not from our new nature will be exposed for the counterfeit it is. Not only will we learn to reject it, but will become so confident that we call the cops and have the lie hauled in. Best of all, there will be joy because we are becoming people who recognize the truth and know our value.

Be still and know that I am God.  Psalm 46:10 

When my boss and I called in for our organization’s corporate prayer time on Friday, we didn’t hear the usual passage of scripture, followed by praise reports and prayer with our small group. Instead, we were read a brief quote on the importance of learning to be quiet and listen to God (or something of that sort; truth be told, I wasn’t altogether listening). We were then told to spend the next 25 minutes in silence. Just as I was thinking I could easily do that while working, Jesse’s voice came from the speaker saying, “Do not go back to work.” “Find a quiet place and listen.” Oh, okay. I get it.

It took me and my boss great restraint to keep from discussing this assignment before actually doing it, holding our lips together really tight like fidgety kindergarteners trying to be good. But we managed and I happily set out to my favorite walking path. Gorgeous day. Birds singing. Peaceful, as always. This assignment was right up my alley, and no doubt one I would ace. But, as it turns out, I suck at being quiet.

I finally got my mouth to stop, mostly. But my mind wouldn’t quit. It was like one of those awful mechanical dogs that bark incessantly when you walk by a toy store. I’d turn off one thought, only to find ten more noisy things yapping at me and demanding my attention. I persisted in the exercise and even extended the walk a bit to give a chance for better mastery, but still ended up back at work feeling quiet on the outside and noisy on the inside.

But as the day wore on, I noticed that my body was more relaxed. And my mind seemed calmer. The things I was sure I had to figure out before getting quiet lost their urgency and fell off my horizon. When I got in my car at the end of the day, I found a stillness I had forgotten existed. There was no desire to save the universe through my mental analyses, distract myself with music or sermons, or even pray with words like I’m used to. I just was. And God was. And we were. It was divine.

It is interesting to me how opposite this is of my life in general. Busy. Noisy. Distracted. Controlled. I don’t mean it to be that way. I’m mostly trying to make the most of what God has given me and what he has put in my heart to do, but things keep getting out of balance and I know it. When I follow the maze back to the start, I always find the same thing: Self-importance. Maybe you’d call it pride.

Instead of letting God figure something out and tell me what to do, I butt in and want to help him figure it out like some obnoxious micromanager. Instead of asking God which people (and when) he wants me to be available for, I want to help everyone all the time and sometimes think – with ridiculous self-righteousness – that they won’t be okay without me. As if I’m the savior of myself or my son or my friends. Getting quiet on Friday reminded me that He alone saves. He alone has the answers. He alone is wise.

He won’t give me more than I can accomplish. Not only that, but he won’t give me more than I can accomplish in perfect peace. As it says in Isaiah, “This is what the Sovereign LORD, the Holy One of Israel, says: “Only in returning to me and resting in me will you be saved. In quietness and confidence is your strength.” If I trust God more than I trust myself, I will lay down my thoughts, my agenda, and the ways I seek to affirm myself. I will take the time to hear what is on his heart and what is important to him. I will be refreshed and gain perspective. I will indeed be still and know that he is God.

Cease striving and know that I am God. Psalm 46:10 NASB

Let go [of your concerns]! Then you will know that I am God. Psalm 46:10 Amp

Be at peace in the knowledge that I am God. Psalm 46:10 BBE

Barnes’ Notes on the Bible

Be still – The word used here means properly to cast down; to let fall; to let hang down; then, to be relaxed, slackened, especially the hands: It is also employed in the sense of not making an effort; not putting forth exertion; and then would express the idea of leaving matters with God, or of being without anxiety about the issue. Compare Exodus 14:13, “Stand still, and see the salvation of God.” In this place the word seems to be used as meaning that there was to be no anxiety; that there was to be a calm, confiding, trustful state of mind in view of the displays of the divine presence and power. The mind was to be calm, in view of the fact that God had interposed, and had shown that he was able to defend his people when surrounded by dangers. If this the divine interposition when Jerusalem was threatened by the armies of the Assyrians under Sennacherib, the force and beauty of the expression will be most clearly seen.

And God placed all things under his feet and appointed him to be head over everything for the church,  which is his body, the fullness of him who fills everything in every way. Ephesians 1:22-23

A while back someone asked me what kind of God would care about something so insignificant as helping someone find a parking place on a crowded day at the beach or a lost wallet at the mall, while neglecting the cries of a suffering world. It was a good question. There are oodles of other unbelievers – and believers – with the same doubts, who question God’s character or refrain from asking him any questions they deem unworthy of his time and efforts.

I didn’t have an immediate answer to his question, but found an understanding floating through my head later that day. My mom would give her life for me. There is no question in my mind. She has never had the opportunity to prove this, so how can I be so certain? Because she has demonstrated her care for me. Sometimes in small ways, like speaking kind words or helping me find something I’ve lost. Sometimes in bigger ways, like foregoing sleep to talk me through a hard place or loving me when I am as approachable as a man-of-war. Many of my crises have been pretty unimportant in the big scheme of things, but they have mattered to her because of her concern and compassion for me. I have become so assured of her love that I can stand confidently in it and can trust her with all I am for much greater things.

If we care for our children in these ways, how much more does our Father, who has a far truer love than we do – a perfect love, in fact – care for us? While a lost wallet is not a life or death problem, it’s an opportunity to demonstrate his care for the kids he loves. And while a parking space might not particularly matter to him, we do. As we see his provision in small ways and come to know his kindness, we learn to trust him in big ways and are able to act with authority on the things he’s promised. We also begin to realize that he did lay down his life for us in the ultimate act of love, and can understand more intimately what it took to do such a thing for us ragamuffins who couldn’t yet begin to grasp the significance.

The breakdown often comes with how this translates in our lives. Maybe we don’t learn to trust him for small things and are then unable to look to him for bigger things. Maybe, instead of asking him to meet our needs, we decide what is worthy of his attention. Or maybe we receive his love, wrap it up around us like a down comforter, and snuggle up in the fluffy warmth for a long winter’s nap. But his love is raw, pulsing life that was never meant to stop with us. It has no boundaries. Not of “small” or “big” or “relative to other people’s problems.” Not of a need or person or household or community or nation. It flows freely to the ends of the earth and back again.

On Sunday, in the middle of a challenging and powerful message, my pastor made this statement: “God fills Jesus. Jesus fills the church. The church fills the world, revealing the presence of God in it.” We are the body of Christ. We were given his kindness not only because of his love for us, but because of his love for all the world. Yes, it’s a broken world, and there is hunger, sickness, and pain.  But we are here, as the hands and feet of a loving God, to feed the hungry, heal the sick, and comfort the hurting. Can each of us meet every need? No way, no how. Can each of us be one part of the body, working together to show this broken world what love looks like? Heck yeah!

So here is my confession. I have been stuffed full with the nourishment of God, grown plump in his goodness, and slept soundly in my fatness while others have gone hungry. I’m still a bit groggy with sleep in my eyes, but am starting to wake up to the very exciting truth that God made me because he needs me. He made you because he needs you. He knit us together in love, not so we could be some tight clique that self-centeredly rejoices in its position, but to declare the love of God to a world in need. So that they might be knit together with us, and proclaim with all their hearts the great love of the God who drew them in through the kindness of his people.

Anyone who believes in me may come and drink! For the Scriptures declare, “Rivers of living water will flow from his heart.” John 7:38 NLT

Life in the Spirit

A couple weeks ago at my work retreat in Pennsylvania, I was sitting in a session on discipleship in organizations being given by Ate Ruth, a brilliant Filipino woman. Seemingly unrelated to the information being presented, I suddenly saw in my mind’s eye a fast-moving river. It was so real, I could almost hear the sound of rushing water and feel its cold spray on my face. I knew in my heart that this mighty river was the Holy Spirit, who moves freely and powerfully in the will of God. I also recognized it as the same boundless purpose and freedom we have in him.

I think it’s no coincidence that the Lord showed me on my flight to Pennsylvania the way his love obliterates boundaries. And that I would see this river picture, which turned out to be so closely connected, while learning from Ate Ruth the importance of God’s order and ways in every area of life.

Anyone who has read this blog for any length of time knows that I have had to wrestle to the ground my wants, expectations, and understanding. It’s not because they’re necessarily bad, but because they conflict with what God has said. Resenting someone for hurting my son conflicts with the command to “Forgive as the Lord forgave you.” Walking in fear or anxiety conflicts with the scripture, “The Lord is my helper; I will not fear.” Getting frustrated when my circumstances turn south or when people fail me conflicts with Paul’s exhortation to “Rejoice in the Lord always.” The list could go on for days, but you get the idea.

Anyone who believes in Jesus will have rivers of living water flowing from his heart. This living water comes from the Spirit of God who lives in us… the very same Spirit who raised Jesus from the dead. What a staggering statement. Healing of mind or body is nothing to the Holy Spirit. Victory over sin is nothing to the Holy Spirit. His power exceeds our need. His wild river was loosed to empower us when Jesus, who said we will do even greater things than he did, went to the Father.  And yet, however true this is, most of us are unable to relate to that kind of resurrection power in our lives. We relate far more to our own limitations and inability to live as we are called to live.

The problem is not that we don’t have the power that we need to live an abundant, victorious life; it is that we have diverted the flow of the river. This mighty Spirit wants to move freely through our minds, bodies, hearts, words, actions – our whole being – but we have built up walls in our minds and hearts through our insistence of doing things our own way, our resistance to surrender, and our refusal to accept his kingship over our lives. As we yield to the ways that he has laid out for us and the truth he has spoken, the damns that are holding back his resurrection life will begin to leak, then break apart, then be completely destroyed.

The very good news is that the Spirit is so powerful, even a trickle is enough to eat away at the things that keep us from true life. Which enables more of the Spirit to flow. Which empowers us to surrender more of our own understanding. Which enables more of the Spirit to flow. And so it goes until the end of this age. So drink of his Spirit, be encouraged, and actively anticipate the great things to come and those that are here even now.

He was confidently looking forward to a city with eternal foundations, a city designed and built by God. Hebrews 11:10 NLT

In The Horse and His Boy (my favorite Chronicle of Narnia), there is a boy named Shasta who has always felt drawn, almost to the point of longing, to know what lies north of his small seaside village and equally small existence. He doesn’t know why his curiosity is bent in that direction, but his father dismisses his questions and the boy doesn’t really think too far beyond that. The reader quickly learns the reason for his interest. The north is where he is from; he is simply being drawn back to the rock from which he was hewn.

We are Shasta. Inside each one of us is a longing to return to the place we came from and, in so doing, to become who we truly are and what we were always meant to be. Most of us would like to instantaneously arrive at that place and become that person, but fail to realize that it is the Spirit of the journey that will transform us into our true selves, preparing us to live in our native land and empowering us to accomplish things of eternal worth.

It’s the very reason we are drawn to stories of great romance or conquest in which obstacles are overcome, character is proven, and darkness defeated by light. They call to something of truth inside. It’s not enough, though, to watch movies or read books of struggle birthing significance. We were created to be in the story; to live significance. Because the purity of heaven is our native land, the noble cause of love is in our blood, and the courage required is our inheritance.

But, like Shasta or any character worth reading about, we have to traverse difficult ground and face troublesome things to get anywhere worth going. That can be so easily mistaken for the wrong road or one not worth the trouble. So we turn around and go back to what we know, maybe with a sense of relief, one of defeat, or perhaps a bit of numbness to true longing.

We were not made to be landlubbers, clinging to the familiar cultivated ground we have become so accustomed to. We were made to become master navigators of all terrain, able to quickly and adeptly go wherever God has called us to go. But we won’t become skilled sailors by sticking our toes in the edge of the sea or emboldened mountain climbers by gazing up at the heights. It is only in the journey – particularly the difficult parts – that we develop the necessary skill and strength required for mastery.

In other words, if you are in a boat with mounting waves and trembling knees, this is a good thing. Not because God wants to see you drown or head back to shore as quickly as your puny boat can get you there. But because he wants you to learn how to navigate the waves, so that they will never, ever be able to cause you fear or doubt again. He wants to set you free from the boundaries of your current existence, so that you can return to the land your heart longs for.

He is a good teacher, and a patient one. Even if you have jumped ship and swam to shore 100 times, he will lovingly take you back out to sea and show you the way through the storm. It is through this journey, and the relationship forged, that you will become who you truly are and what you were always meant to be.