I had a nice conversation with my mom yesterday morning. We talked about a lot of different things: family Christmas plans, what she was doing before I called, and other things that were going on in our lives. Eventually, the conversation turned to different struggles that were affecting our lives and the lives of those that affect us. We even talked about my grandmother’s Alzheimers journey and my mom’s experience with that. You’d think that would be a downer, but it was actually encouraging. We came to the inevitable conclusion all followers of Jesus come to: as hard — or as good — as this life gets, we anticipate something far better. Circumstances can be unfavorable, but it’s the living by faith part that is really challenging. Even though I believe that is how we should live, I confess there are times I don’t want to have to live by faith. I generally don’t want to be in situations where I don’t know the outcome. Those are risky positions in which to be. Basically, I would rather not have to trust God because I want to see what’s coming up. I know: it’s foolish. My mom, being the wise woman that she is, pointed something out to me that I had never considered.

Jesus temporarily laid aside His rights when He came to Earth.¹ I don’t know if that includes sovereign knowledge, but whatever the theological/doctrinal conclusion He knew how He was going to die and asked for an alternative solution.² In fact, he probably knew before his killers knew. Although He is the ultimate example of living by faith, in that instance He had foresight into what would happen and submitted to it.³ He is the only one who is strong enough to actually live by sight, but for the most part He surrendered that ability in order to live by faith as a man for the sake of reconciling us to the Father. What a wonderful and timely reminder during an unusually chaotic Christmas season!

The beauty of living by faith is the resulting hope. I don’t know how many times a brother or sister in Christ has said to me, “I don’t know how people who don’t believe in God get through this life.” I’m a pretty optimistic person, but I’ve long ago figured out optimism without reality is just fantasy while optimism in the context of reality is faith.

If I know all the details of what God asks of me for His global purposes before they happen, I doubt I would be faithful enough to follow through. Living by faith isn’t only about my being a “good Christian.” Like most things, it isn’t about me at all…it’s about God. And in His mercy, He asks me to operate by trust in Him rather than by my own knowledge, and He gives me a bonus gift of hope. It turns out, living by faith is probably easier than living by sight. It’s only more uncomfortable.

Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us. Romans 5.1-5

1. Philippians 2.6 [↩]
2. Matthew 26.39, 42; Mark 13.35-36; Luke 22.42 [↩]
3. Philippians 2.8 [↩]

I had the opportunity to stay with a retired couple in Kentucky for a total of about a week. Each morning I greeted Mattie and asked her how she was, and her answer was always the same: “oh, I’m blessed.” There was nothing fake or sickly spiritual about it. She was simply telling me the truth. And it was kind of contagious.

I’m not always as gracious as Mattie about my blessed state, but the truth is, I am richly blessed. I got to celebrate another year a few days ago, and “blessed” is the only way I can describe that day. The schedule was filled only with tasks I wanted to do. If it hadn’t been for the many Facebook messages and a few rounds of “Happy Birthday,” I could have forgotten what day it was altogether. There just wasn’t time to remember it was my birthday; there was simply too much to enjoy.

• started the day with Starbucks and a few hours at a mission office in an environment conducive to possibilities
• felt healthy enough to go running for the first time in two weeks in 70+° weather…in December!
• worked on formulating vision and mission for a new position
• spent the evening among friends seeking God’s best for their new season in life and receiving prayers and words of blessing for the coming year

My life isn’t perfect by any stretch of the imagination. If the highlight of my life is the weather or doing what I want, it really doesn’t qualify for the definition of “blessed.” But when I look at God’s track record of faithfulness and presence, even in the little things like nice weather on my birthday and the ability to go outside to enjoy it, I know He has blessed me beyond what I deserve.

I’ve just recovered from the flu — something that only happens to me once every 4-6 years — and I’ve avoided playing with my youngest nephew because of it. I’m not used to being contagious, but one of my hopes for this year is that, like Mattie, I can become a contagious blessing.

…all peoples on earth will be blessed through you. Genesis 12.3

This morning, I listened to a little of David Crowder’s A Collision to help settle down and position myself to meet with God. That probably sounds (pun totally intended ) a little counterproductive if you’re familiar with DC*B’s usual style, but his music is one of the better ushers I use to facilitate and direct me God-ward. I started with “Come and Listen” and found myself really happy because of heaven by the time I got to “Foreverandever.”

I would have continued, but I needed to get ready for the rest of the day soon, so I turned off the music and moved into the Psalms. Today was 65-66. Amazing how God coordinates everything together. By the end of 66, I realized I was smiling like a fool. It’s going to be a good day.

Come and listen, all you who fear God; let me tell you what he has done for me. Psalm 66.16

I went to the mall yesterday for the first time in about a year. Actually, that’s not exactly true. I went to malls this summer in SE Asia because they were air conditioned and had two well known coffeehouse chains to help overcome any homesickness and sleep deprivation. Yesterday was my first time in a mall in the United States since about this time last year. The combination of a careful budget and easy online price comparison present an impressive wall between that particular bookstore and me.

The secret password to break through that barrier was “30% off a minimum $10 purchase.” I am a sucker for a good deal on books. I thought I’d try to do the responsible thing and find a good reference book on web technology so I could expand my skill set. Fortunately, I couldn’t find what I was looking for, so I wandered over to the “religion” section.

There are two ways to shop: hunting and browsing. I usually find recommended books within my budget by shopping online; that’s hunting, and I like to call it “good stewardship.” With books, though, I’ve been missing the tactile experience of actually holding the book and physically flipping through pages to get a feel for the content — the browsing. I forgot how fascinating it is to take in all the titles in a row and ponder how it reveals the direction our society is turning. There were so many books I wanted to read, from the feel-good biography about the family of my favorite reality show to uncomfortable questions about contemporary western church culture to mind twisters about theology and discipleship. I knew I wouldn’t be able to fully enjoy any of them in the store, but I did sit down for about 20 minutes in the corner with one of them.

It took me over an hour to decide, but I finally committed to a small book that combines a few areas I’m currently working on. I went home feeling slightly guilty about spending so much time, like I had indulged in an unwarranted pleasure — kind of like how it feels to enjoy a complete meal after spending time in a third-world country eating simple basics — but not bad enough to ruin the anticipation of the book. And the boba milk tea I picked up to accompany it. Extravagant, yes?

I was still basking in the memory of the experience when I was suddenly convicted. How often do I just browse through God, observing His ways and appreciating the nuances of theology from a distance, but not intending to dive deeper into Him? Isn’t it easier to hunt through His Word for just the right characteristic or attribute in some comforting passage for the situation at hand without desiring the full picture for the long term? It’s more comfortable to study God for a few convenient moments than to grow in His likeness on His terms over a lifetime.

We’ve heard it before: knowing about God is not the same as knowing God. We don’t often hear the hard truth: it is a continuing struggle to leave behind the shopping approach for the full commitment, no matter how well we feel we’ve come to know Him. Peter was anything but a shopper. He bought in to Jesus completely and unreservedly. We can criticize Peter for his unfaithfulness when he denied Jesus, but at least Peter tried to try. Jesus, compassionately forgiving, restored him to try again. I think I would rather fail to live up to my goal than fail to have a goal at all. I can be sure I will fail throughout the process, but I can also be sure of this: He will be worth the cost.

“Master,” said Peter, “why can’t I follow you now? I’ll lay down my life for you.” John 13.37,

I’m currently reading Michael Card’s The Hidden Face of God: Finding the Missing Door to the Father Through Lament.¹ Someone gave it to me as a gift: reading material for the down times during my recent international trip. I wasn’t able to get to it this summer, and I think that was God’s perfect timing. It’s turning out to be an emotionally challenging subject.

Card wrote something in chapter 11 that was strangely comforting, even though it didn’t offer a solution to pain.

[Jesus] had not come to give answers; He had come to give Himself. …in the midst of that moment, Mary didn’t get what she wanted, not just yet, but she got exactly what she needed. (58)

Rather than trying to restore Mary to her pre-pain life through methods and ministry programs, Jesus offered Himself. He didn’t berate her for her lack of faith. He didn’t encourage her to adjust to her Lazarus-lacking life and make the most of it or give her steps toward that. He chose to enter into her grief alongside her.

Jesus’ response is beyond my comfort zone. Usually, I feel like I have to prove Jesus is Savior by offering a plan of action. In times of grief, I feel pressured to prove Jesus is Lord by pretending my grief is gone. Without allowing false and self-centered beliefs to prevail, will I choose to respond with the tenderness and honesty of Christ as I counter the lies of the enemy? More often than not, I’m looking for the how and the when, not the Who. I can’t deny the importance of the how and the when, but I must always remember the ultimate answer is Who. In so doing, I learn to balance the reality of “now” with the truth of “not yet.”

We reflect and present Christ well when, in times of grief, we offer company, not organization; fellowship in suffering before remedy to suffering; a Person rather than a prescription. All the while acknowledging God’s freedom to dictate the time table according to His purposes, not our comfort.

Jesus wept. John 11.35

1. Colorado Springs: NavPress, 2007. [↩]