:: In.a.Mirror.Dimly ::

Nine years ago we were newlyweds. I remember when our photo album arrived from the photographer with 4×6 prints and negatives. Yes kids, people actually used to hold pictures in their hands, and you could only make another print if you brought the negative to a developer—I’m sorry if all of this is making your head spin.

I looked through the pictures and began to think about having some prints made, buying frames, and putting up some pictures around the house. Perhaps a nice picture of Julie for my desk and a portrait in our bedroom.

However, I had seminary classes, my wife was attending graduate school, and it seemed like we never found the time for it. We’d wait for later—a time when we’d have more time.

Nine years later, I’ve made no progress on this. Worse than that, there are so many things that I’ve put off by telling myself, “I’ll get to this when I have more time.”

It’s like I’ve created this fairy land in my future where I’m be rested, relaxed, and completely at leisure to do as I please. The truth is that we can always fill up our time with something. You can never have “enough” time.

One area where God is working on my heart lately is the stewardship of my time and how badly I can waste it. One night I drove over to our community market, which is an amazing natural foods/organic grocery coop. It’s in the middle of our residential neighborhood, so I parked on the street and could see the lights from televisions flashing in every single living room on our block.

The sight saddened me, but then God, champion for hypocrisy exposure, reminded me that I was chomping at the bit to go home and watch a bit of hockey. There was no use arguing that hockey is morally superior and more redemptive than Dancing with the Stars, even if I know that’s true. The matter was one of time and priorities.

I can always put off important things by saying that I’ll have more time in the future for them. This is a lie that turns me into the victim of the circumstances, when in reality I’m a victim of my own mismanagement—which is another way of saying that it’s my fault alone.

When Jesus came to earth, Simon and Anna proclaimed that God’s salvation had come that day. Herod sought to kill the newborn child because the threat to his rule was immediate. When God acts, there is no room for delay. We can’t let our circumstances become obstacles.

Jesus told his disciples that the time has come now. Today is the day to repent. Today is the day to follow him. When a man tried to put off following Jesus in order to take care of his family obligations, Jesus wouldn’t let him off the hook.

God’s timeframe is always now, not later. As much as I’d like to delay dealing with my sins and bad habits, God wants to heal them now. As much as I’d like to fill my day up with “important” tasks, God wants me to pray now. Whenever God prompts us to act or sit, to think or rest, he’s seeking what’s best for us.

I keep thinking that I’ll get to these things, but if I expect God to heal me in the future, he’s actually saying that he wants to do it now. He doesn’t want me to wait for a day when I’ll be less busy, less stressed out, and less fragmented because that day will never come. While I wait for life to become less stressful, I miss out on the source of healing that I need the most—the one thing that I’ve been waiting for.

Today’s post is a synchroblog with Christine Sine. Check out her post: Jesus is Coming—What Do We Expect?

And hey, did you know Advent is coming? I contributed to this great collection of meditations that is now available: Waiting for the Light: An Advent Devotional. Also check out Christine’s advent video.

When I read a story or watch a movie, I crave a just and tidy resolution. I want everything to be put right. A delayed resolution is the last thing I want in a story.

In removing myself from pages and movie screens, I want the same thing in life: a tidy resolution. Much of the strain we face in this world is that such resolutions are delayed, even if they are guaranteed to us in the Bible.

We live our lives, pass into a time of waiting with God, and then we will one day be resurrected along with the rest of God’s new creation. So far as I can tell from the Bible, the resurrection and the life that follows are where God brings the resolutions that we crave today and the full blessings that we hope for.

Waiting is essential.

The resurrection assures us that there is something enormously significant waiting for us when Christ returns. If anything, we are tempted to make too much of today and too little of the good things God has prepared for us in the restored rule of Christ.

We engage in works of justice and peace not because we want to seize control of this world, but because we want to proclaim that God is already in control in ways we don’t yet understand and moving us toward something else. That is the hardest part of the Kingdom for me. God is King here and now today, but his rule is not fully present among us.

The resurrection is the game changer, the moment that God will set things exactly as they should be. How we live between now and then is certainly a pressing matter. We are sometimes faced with a false choice between a spiritualized moralism and an activist moralism. One deals with the spiritual power of the Kingdom and the other deals with the manifestations of the Kingdom among us.

The Resurrection makes the foolishness of the Gospel possible. The meek, mourning, peacemaking underdogs truly are going to win because only God can raise the dead and recreate our world into a just and loving place.

We don’t fight for control of this world using its own tools. We declare that God is already in control in his mysterious ways and that one day he will bring the life, restoration, and justice that we miss so badly today.

If I ever lose hope, perhaps it is because I have asked God to bring his future resolutions into the present. Perhaps I need to learn how to wait, to submit myself to God’s timing, and to rest in the assurance and promise he gives us today: I am with you until the end of the age.

And so I’m learning that presence of Jesus is enough for today. He is the resolution.

For a few summers in my Jr. High and High School years, I spent a week with family at the beaches of North Carolina. The ocean down there was pretty rough in comparison to the tame beaches of New Jersey that I’d known for my entire life.

You had to leave your feet in order to reach any decent waves, but then the current would grab you and send you down a block. I’d ride a wave in, and then walk back to where I’d started. The first few times I left my feet and put myself at the mercy of the current was quite uncomfortable.

There’s this unsettling moment where you’re standing on firm ground and you want to get somewhere else, but you need to leave what is solid and certain in order to get there. There was a gap in my plans between leaving the beach and catching a wave, a gap where something could go wrong and a rip current could drag me out to sea.

Speaking for myself, sometimes in life I don’t know whether I’m in the clear, safely riding in the wave or still bobbing in the water, waiting for the next thing. It’s easy to second guess myself and to worry if I’ve made poor decisions instead of acting out of faith.

So much in our lives hinges on hearing God.

I don’t know why this is, but it’s always easier to panic and worry than to stop and seek God’s leading. Why is that? Perhaps worry at least feels like we have some semblance of control.

The last verse of Matthew’s Gospel shares this from Jesus, “Be sure of this: I am with you always, even until the end of the age.”

It’s a comfort to know that we have a God who not only sends us into the world to do his work, but he promises to go with us. If we can stop, wait, and listen for his leading, he’ll be there for us. Perhaps he won’t show up in ways that we expect, but as we discipline ourselves to wait patiently, something the Psalms talk about quite a bit, we’ll find that he is more than able to give us the faith and hope to survive our gaps.

I wish I knew why some folks go through tougher or longer gaps than others. In my own life, I’ve noticed that God sometimes delays giving me things that I want because either A) I’m not ready to do anything worthwhile with them or B) I don’t really need them.

If we are in a relationship with a God who promises to be with us, we need to lean heavily on that promise during the gaps in our lives. A gap between what we know and what we want presents us with the uncomfortable but valuable lesson that we can have joy when God alone sustains us.

We just may find that we’ll be better prepared for the next season in our lives if we learn from the gaps.

I was praying this morning, and I had a strong sense to pray for a few people. While praying, I could see that God was preparing them to do something but they didn’t see what it was yet.

That is a tough place to be.

Living in a place of preparation and uncertainty can be stressful, draining, and unfulfilling. You’re always waiting for the next thing. You don’t know what you’re supposed to do each day because you feel like you were made to do something else.

This morning I sensed that God really does have things to teach us and to develop in us at the times when we feel stuck or in between or simply uncertain. He gives us opportunities to grow, and we’ll simply never know how he may use something to shape us.

I’ve learned a lot about that with my writing lately. Things have not followed the path that I’d chosen for myself and planned out, but at the same time, I have what I need and God continues to teach me things I never expected to learn.

I suppose this is part of what faith looks like: we take steps forward each day into the uncertainties of life, trusting that we can hear God today and move forward, trusting him with the results.

At the end of the day, if we can give God the glory for where he has led us, we may also find that we’ve ended up right where we belong.

For more posts on faith, visit Bonnie Gray’s blog post today: Facing What You Fear to Lead a Significant Life.

Yesterday I wrote about those times when God leads us into wilderness periods in order to teach us to depend on him. When all of our sources of security and provision have been stripped from us, we realize that all we ever had was God himself all along.

Hopefully the lessons from the wilderness will stick with us.

However, walking through the wilderness is not a virtue in and of itself. God wants to shape our hearts and minds, fostering reliance on His Spirit. Make no mistake, this is something we can squander and screw up.

While in the wilderness the Israelites refused to trust God to provide, complained when he didn’t provide what they wanted, and worshipped an idol when God didn’t show up on their time table. There were serious consequences to this battle of the wills.

God does not back down when we resist the lessons he wants to teach us.

I can fight him, persist in sin, and complain that the wilderness isn’t what I deserve. However, God has his plans for me and for you, and these are good plans for our benefit. The process may not feel pleasant, but it can produce real fruit if we submit to his plans for us.

Resistance, selfishness, or sloth will not lead us out of the wilderness. Some days I feel like I’m slowly piecing together the lessons he wants me to learn, other days I gripe and complain, and then other days I have a refreshing glimpse of the blessings he wants to start unfolding in my life and in the lives of those around me.

Until God becomes our greatest desire, may every other source of comfort and security leave us frustrated, stuck, and confused. May nothing take the place of God in our hearts. May we learn that lesson sooner than later.

I hate the wilderness times of life. Stuff doesn’t make sense, goals remain hazy, and uncertainty persistently gnaws away. Wilderness times are uncomfortable, unsettling, and sometimes frightening.

The uncertainty in the wilderness strips me of peace and leads to simmering frustration that sometimes boils over when yet another thing goes wrong. That is all part of the plan.

I can imagine that all of those emotions were coursing through the Israelites while they wandered through the desert for 40 years. Think about how frustrating that would be. You know where the good land is, but God won’t let you go there.

God took the Israelites to a wilderness full of rocks and scraps of brush and said, “Perfect.”

God didn’t run amuck with his hands in the air saying, “Oh no! The Israelites are in the wilderness! They’re uncomfortable! They’re uncertain! Gabriel, fix it! Fix it!”

The wilderness was plan A.

God wanted to teach them to rely on him, to seek him first, and to find their comfort only in him. He wanted them to feel the depths of frustration and lack so that they would understand that any prosperity they experience comes from God and not their own efforts. Wilderness times are tough, but excellent instruction periods.

Wilderness times teach us the most important lessons we could learn, even if the process is anything but comfortable. 

Writers live in fear of sitting down one day and having nothing to write. There have been seasons in which I’ve sat down to write my daily blog post and struggled with a howling vacancy.

Since this is a theology blog, I am especially fearful of having nothing much to share about God. If there’s nothing doing, then I have to face two startling truths:

1. I have not been resting with God, waiting on God, or doing anything else much with God lately.

2. I need to post something honest and true rather than posting something just to have “fresh content.”

Among other benefits, blogging has forced me to face my seasons of spiritual emptiness and struggle. When I need to “pour out” posts on a regular basis, I have a continual reminder to stay on track with God. If not, I risk being a fraud.

I think this is why serving others is so important in Christianity. Serving others, whether by writing, hospitality, prayer, or whatever else. Service forces us to depend on God’s resources. If we don’t depend on God filling us up, we’ll become exhausted as we scrape the dregs from our own lives.

Sometimes I try to pour something from God into the life of someone else and come up empty. That is what I fear in life. I fear being empty of God’s influence, having only my own wisdom and experience to share.

As you enter a weekend that will hopefully have a fair share of rest and restoration, may your cup spill over with God’s presence. And as you begin next week, I pray that you’ll be able to share God’s blessings with at least one other person. That, after all, is why we’re here.

While on vacation with our family last week I gave frequent updates on the past year, and I realized something.

The past year wasn’t the worst. That kind of surprised me. In fact, a lot of great things happened. And then again, I certainly hit my fair share of set backs that cast a shadow over things—hence my surprise.

During this time last year, where did I expect to be in a year’s time? The answer: Well, not quite where I am right now. And now, where do I expect to be next year at this time?

I can live with my lack of progress because life is more than a long to-do list. I need to look at something bigger than my goals.

This isn’t a matter of painting a bulls-eye wherever my arrows land. Rather, I’m talking about the delicate balance of having goals and remembering the larger relational picture of life. Over the past year my daily quality of life has improved and my wife and I have found time to be together in midst of some pretty crazy schedules.

All in all, we’re doing fine, and that is something to be thankful for.

On the Christian end of things, I think I can get caught up in meeting all kinds of goals as well, craving certain spiritual milestones. You know, stuff like being free from a nagging sin, hearing God more clearly, or reading a certain amount of scripture. Christians usually think they don’t pray enough, and we’re usually moving somewhere between the extremes of despairing over our sin or excusing it.

I like the idea of aiming for Christian maturity, and I’ll speak about that more this week, but as far as goals go, I think it’s important to begin any discussion of them from the standpoint of what’s most important.

When I consider my goals as a Christian, I find myself balancing the desire to be more holy or spiritual, but not listing the goal over the relationship with God that will ultimately lead me to that level of holiness or spirituality. In other words, working toward the goals can overshadow the means by which we attain them—namely through intimacy with Christ.

It can be frustrating to struggle with sin or to find that you’re not quite as far along in your Christian walk as you’d like, but we don’t move forward by setting a goal and then working on it without the relationship with Christ in place. I’m learning that the best way forward is not always what seems to be the most direct…

I have a prayer request. It’s kind of a big deal. I can’t get into the details until things get settled, but rest assured, it’s a large burden that only makes other burdens feel heavier.

And so I’m praying about it. I’m asking others to pray about it. What am I asking God to do about it? “Make it go away.”

I want God to deliver us, to settle the situation, and to help us move on with our lives. We’ve worried about this long enough.

A few months ago we received some encouraging words from fellow Christians about this situation: God had it under control. Things are going to work out. God is with us.

It’s kind of been quiet since then.

And really, I shouldn’t complain. I mean, Noah spent a good year locked up in the ark without so much as a peep from God. I’m sure he kept thinking this flood can’t go on yet another day? Can it?

Oh, it can.

And so I was driving home last night and praying about this… this… thing. I’m trying to let go. I’m trying to seek first the Kingdom of God and his righteousness. However, when you have something as big as this staring you in the face, you can’t help but notice it. It’s in the way.

God spoke to me last night. It wasn’t exactly what I wanted to hear.

“Do you want me or do you just want me to make this go away?”

To be perfectly honest, I felt like saying, “Make this go away, and then we can talk.”

Agh.

Today I am very humbled by my attitude. I wouldn’t want to waste a perfectly good trial by not drawing near to God in the midst of it.