The Burden of the Tally

l remember when I was in either first or second grade, I had a list in my head of bad things I had done including hitting my sister and accidentally saying a curse word. As this tally was kept, my little heart would feel so heavy. And in bed at night I would go through my list and make myself remember how I had failed. Eventually, this specific list became a number; a heavy number that I chanted in my head and I wore like a scarlet letter as a banner of shame. While I eventually stopped the tally, this pattern continued. In late middle school, I would keep a tally of the mistakes I made while writing my notes with marks on the upper right hand corner of each notebook page; they were literal marks against the perfection of each page. I had a strange sense of pride for pages that had no tally marks; a clean page free of errors to prove that I was good.

Even now, I feel like I weigh my actions carefully and reflect often on what needs to change in my life, and how I have fallen short. In 2016, the Lord revealed to me the burden of the tally. He is calling me (and you) into deeper freedom. I tend to see frayed edges as failures and chipped pieces as inexcusable, but God is revealing his perspective of a perfect covering in Jesus. Now in 2017 I want to walk with a spiritual posture of security in knowing that I am freed to live for Jesus and not to live under the shame-filled pursuit of flawlessness.

Once, I heard from this sermon that we live “under a banner that declares ‘It is finished!'” That statement brings so much hope to my heart and warmth to my soul! I am allowed to need Jesus. Tchividjan in his sermon declares that we don’t have to “graduate” beyond the gospel, and that sanctification is not about “getting better” but rather about becoming more intimately acquainted with our need for Jesus.

I don’t have to keep a tally. I am continually allowed to throw myself at the foot of the cross and claim Jesus’ perfection over my life. I’m really tired of walking around with a banner of shame; I need to replace it with a banner of victory over condemnation. Living for Jesus means that I get to worship God through my actions that naturally change as I focus on my beautiful and perfect Savior.

In what ways are you tallying your shortcomings? Do you need a reminder that we are able to live freely for Jesus under a banner of victory? Let’s walk together under the Good News that we are free to be imperfect because Jesus is our perfection.

(Read the accompanying book to Tullian Tchividjan’s sermon)

 

When a journey of a few weeks takes 40 years

I’ve always heard the journey from Egypt to the Promised Land should’ve taken the Israelites a few weeks. But we all know that they “wandered in the desert for 40 years.” Wandered. The picture I get in my mind is gasping for water and sizzling like bacon in a pan under the unrelenting scorching sun in the middle of the desert. We know that God provided for the Israelites in their wandering (he led them to several locations of oasis and showered them with manna). But I’ve often thought about the wanderings of these people as Scripture continually chronicles their journey and begs us to learn and apply what we can.

After the Israelites had been enslaved by the Egyptians for 400 years, God miraculously delivered them and sent them to a place of rest, peace, and provision. Before they entered their new home, spies were sent to scope out the people and the territory. Their reports were disheartening to say the least. After hearing about the strength and size of the current inhabitants, the people doubted they could enter this land and were then cursed to wander until this generation had died.

This summer has been a season of painful wandering. For several different reasons, the looming reality of death and decay has overwhelmed my thoughts and that left me with debilitating anxiety. I lay awake at night with a pounding heart and restless mind. I looked at every person who I came across and thought about their eventual end. I was consumed by fear and panic and the uncomfortable reality of my lack of control over what happens to me. This worry and stress led to some aimless roaming. Being a strong extrovert, I already thrive on being around others. But during this time of anxiety the need to be around people was incessant. And when I wasn’t distracted, I was surrounded by others yet “safely” emotionally distanced and detached to a comfortable, albeit lonely, numbness. This numbness made me feel as though I was already dead, thus increasing my feelings of panic.

In this state, I was in need of some serious renewal. There was a deep desire in my heart for noise–anything to drown out the merry-go-round of panic and then eventual shame of not being able to “get it together” that I constantly felt. I had this strange feeling that I was sinking, and I was grasping on to anything I could think of on my way down to keep me afloat. At youth group camp this past week, I was confronted with some ways to curtail my wandering that came as a shock to me. He spoke to me about three things: Quiet, Testimony, and Worship.

At camp there are moments of reflection, prayer, and solitude. This summer I have been running from the “Quiet” because I feared that being alone with my thoughts would swallow me up and break me apart. One of the first times during a set aside quiet time, I was reading my Bible and came across this verse:

8For you, Lord, have delivered me from death,

my eyes from tears,

my feet from stumbling,

9that I may walk before the Lord

in the land of the living.

Psalm 116

When I stopped the “noise” I was able to hear the Lord’s voice. And the “Quiet” didn’t consume and destroy me, it gave me a sweet wholeness and confrontation with my fragility that left room for God to display his bigness. He led me to this portion of scripture that slowly breathed life into my heart and allowed me to shift focus to the here-and-now instead of focusing on death in someday.

God also prompted me to share my story during camp in front of every camper and staff member. I had pursued hollow fellowship in spending time with people but refused to share my pain for fear of shame and feeling weak and alone. Even though I’m a therapist and encourage others to be vulnerable, this was incredibly difficult for me. But there were several people who came up to me after I shared, with tears in their eyes, thanking me for my transparency and for putting into words their own wandering in their personal deserts. I had not found myself abandoned and embarrassed; I felt comforted and supported. Testimony allows for God’s story to be told through our lives. Testimony allows a person to be “real” and give permission to the hearers to do the same.

Finally, God prompted me to worship. For me, that is always the first task that is neglected in times of distress. I felt lost in my sadness and worry and unable to transcend those feelings. During camp I had the opportunity to lead and participate in powerful worship services. At the end of the week, I found myself hoarse from singing, drenched in sweat from jumping and dancing, and dead tired from late nights and high emotions, but I felt a sweet freedom swelling in my soul. Worship is a beautiful chiming of the soul to a loving Creator and it is so healing.

What if the Israelites had followed what Caleb (one of the spies to the Promised Land) said in Numbers 13:30 “Let us go up at once and occupy it, for we are well able to overcome it.” My guess is that they could’ve saved themselves from a season of wandering. My wandering lasted so long because I avoided the things that would take me to the Promised Land. Just like the Israelites, I felt intimidated by the current occupants and doubted God’s promise of victory.

I believe that God is healing my anxiety. There are still moments where I feel overcome with panic. But I know that my journey with anxiety doesn’t have to last forever, because God has shown me that I need to pursue being in His presence. It is there I will be reminded of places He has already led me through and be shown His strength and mercy. I need to open my mouth and share my life and struggles with others to invite encouragement, and create a culture of courage for my Christian community. Most importantly, I learned my praise to God is a weapon. I don’t like the idea of death; I’m still scared and feel so small and out of control at times. But I refuse to wander any longer than I have to. Today I choose to seek serenity, to testify, and to worship God.

 

The Walden Experiment

In the 11th grade, my burly English teacher gave us an interesting assignment; He wanted us to memorize (including punctuation) a quote from Henry David Thoreau’s book, Walden.

photo credit: http://figgseyeclinic.com/2015/05/11/the-iris-of-earths-eye/

Thoreau decided that in order to “live deliberately” he must remove from himself all that distracts, consumes, and complicates. He decided the forest would be a place where he would find joy and experience life-giving simplicity from nature. He felt that he would be focused on only that which is essential for living and therefore transcend the muck and mire of a hum-drum existence.

Walden is  a book about simplicity; a prime example of an existentialist’s desire to connect to the “bigger” things in life by removing as much clutter as possible. Although when I was reading this book I rolled my eyes and sighed at the difficult language it contained, recently I’ve been confronted with a lot of clutter in my life and it feels sometimes like I’m running away and choosing to numb myself or allowing myself to be consumed and feel like I’m drowning.

Now don’t get me wrong, I like camping, but living in the woods would not be a spiritual experience for me. After about a week I think I’d be dying for some normal bathrooms and running water. But I find this growing need within myself to simplify, and “front only the essentials of life.”

I have decided that it’s time for an experiment. Heavy thoughts of the brevity of life has convicted me to not find that when I come to the end that I have not yet lived. When I look at my life, I see a lot of time spent wasting time as a way of entertainment or honestly just distraction.

Because my focus is often on myself and that only every leads to misery.

It’s time for me to be more intentional about my life.  I want a  Thoreauvian lifestyle  that  “…is poor in all the gewgaws most people accumulate and is rich in time, opportunity, and vast quantities of invisible wealth which can not be bought, sold, or stolen.”  (quote found here in this interesting literary analysis).

More importantly, I want to live with the awareness of heaven, a personal God who is constantly at work, my position of holiness, my commission as a child of God, my giftings for that holy work, and the beauty of life. And so I’ve decided to go to my own metaphorical woods.

If I am to live deliberately, I must unplug, unwind, and focus. So, next month. I am going to take out television, unnecessary phone time (work and necessary phone calls not included), time spent on social media, and any other “time-wasting” activities. I’m going to replace these things with prayer, reading my Bible, in conversation with people, listening to worship music, and anything else that pulls my eyes away from myself and upwards towards Him.

By pausing to focus on the simple things in life and subsist on the only thing that can bring true satisfaction I hope to awaken in me deep passions and vibrancy that I’ve noticed has faded.

Comment below if you plan on joining me on this experiment.

Prepare Him Room

My favorite Christmas song, hands down, is “Joy to the World.” One line in particular has been ringing in my head this whole holiday season: Prepare Him Room.

The celebration of Jesus’ birth is blowing over me like a howling yet tender refreshing wind to my aching soul. He came to break the curse of pain, bitterness, tears, and brokenness, far as the curse is found.

Joy. JOY, deep and guttural and consuming. It trumps happiness in its depth and richness. It is a deep peace wrapped in beautiful love. Joy to the whole world, because Jesus came.

And He rules, He reigns with TRUTH that brings true freedom and GRACE where we are allowed to come flawed and bleeding before a Holy God to be in perfect relationship. And His glory is so overwhelming, so all encompassing that all of creation cries out, shouts because they cannot hold back the glory of the King. Repeat the sounding joy!

No more let sin and sorrow grow, He came to make His blessings flow. Far as the curse is found; there  He is. There is nothing too dark or depraved to escape the redemptive power of God’s love.

Prepare my heart, Lord. I want you to have room. No, I want all of the room to be for you in my heart. I invite you Lord to be my all, and let me live in the full, resounding, joy and wonder of your love.

Merry Christmas!

Joy to the World, the Lord has come!
Let earth receive her King;
Let every heart prepare Him room,
And Heaven and nature sing,
And Heaven and nature sing,
And Heaven, and Heaven, and nature sing.

Joy to the World, the Savior reigns!
Let men their songs employ;
While fields and floods, rocks, hills and plains
Repeat the sounding joy,
Repeat the sounding joy,
Repeat, repeat, the sounding joy.

No more let sins and sorrows grow,
Nor thorns infest the ground;
He comes to make His blessings flow
Far as the curse is found,
Far as the curse is found,
Far as, far as, the curse is found.

He rules the world with truth and grace,
And makes the nations prove
The glories of His righteousness,
And wonders of His love,
And wonders of His love,
And wonders, wonders, of His love

Tactile Faith and Doubting Thomas

Doubting Thomas is someone who makes me cringe. (You can read about him in John 20). Even after hearing the disciples proclaim Jesus’ resurrection, he didn’t want to fully accept it without touching his resurrected body. He said, “Unless I see the nail marks on his hands and put my fingers where the nails where, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.” I’ve always wondered at the audacity of this statement. Why couldn’t he just accept the testimony of his fellow Christ-followers? Didn’t he know enough to believe what Jesus was capable of?

But how often are we in this position? How often do I ask for some sort of experience with God?

When I read verses like Psalm 34:8 “Taste and see that the Lord is good…” I start to believe that Jesus wants us to experience him in an intimate way. He doesn’t just want me to have an intellectual understanding of his grace. He doesn’t want me to always sit and reason all the benefits and costs of Christianity.

I find myself focusing on how God makes my life “click.” How his creation of the world explains how we got here. How heaven gives significance to the now and motivates me to share Jesus with others. I understand that my life has purpose through my understanding of my place in the body of Christ. But God spoke to me once and had me consider the ways in which He DOESN’T make sense. His upside down kingdom where the meek inherit the Earth, those in mourning are blessed, and the peacemakers reign.

Part of what doesn’t always make sense, especially to me and my cerebral way of thinking, is emotions and spiritual experiences. This past year, God has been asking me to have an experience with Him; to know him tangibly. Honestly, it makes me uncomfortable. It pushes me to the spiritual, unexplainable, and supernatural. But even through the discomfort, I notice a depth in my relationship with Him that my intellectual self hasn’t experienced before. Because just like Thomas, knowing something doesn’t always foster a sincere faith that motivates to passionate servanthood.

“That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked at and our hands have touched–this we proclaim concerning the Word of life”                                           John 1:1 (emphasis mine)

My love, worth, and purpose, are all being expanded and filled in with the richness of Jesus. I am experiencing indescribable joy and peace that passes all understanding.  I can hear, see, and touch Him and in new ways be able to proclaim the Word of life. When I read this passage I see a God who is wanting us to experience Him. He longs to write His story in our hearts and be changed through His love.

In what ways is God asking you to experience Him differently?

[Read about another Bible story that frustrates me here]

 

Scars and Stories

When I writing in my journal the other day, I was distracted by the faint red mark on my hand where I burned myself; I was making mozzarella sticks for the members of my book club and wasn’t paying attention to how I was holding the cookie sheet. That got me thinking about the strange dimpled scar on my knee from falling in the driveway in childhood while chasing my sisters. I have a lumpy lined scar on my chin from getting an elbow in my face during a high school basketball game. I have another burn remnant on my thigh where I dropped my curling iron on myself a few years ago on Easter. I have a chicken pox mark on my forehead and a small gouge mark on my shin from running into a trailer hitch while cleaning out the garage one Father’s Day.

Recently I was told that scars are almost always pathognomonic: indicative of an underlying condition. I think most of mine represent my clumsy stumbling through life. But, I see that they also represent sickness, hospitality, recklessness, competition, vanity, servanthood, and forgetfulness. These marks on me do tell some of the story of my life. They speak of where I’ve been and who I am.

And then I started reflecting about Jesus’ scarred body and searching out the underlying meanings in them.

Jesus was pierced through his hands–hands that created the universe and as God’s word moved and worked to fulfill His promises and will. His intention of redemption is pierced with His intense love for his mirror-image creation. Accomplishing His will through us, seeking to sacrifice and woo and act; his power laid down and presented for His people.

The hole in his side proves that whatever is close to Him, He is willing to pour out. Generosity and pursuit are His hallmarks, even unto death. He can be poked and put to the test, and He will be found faithful to His intended course. He is filled with water to refresh and with blood to cleanse. As a good Father, He willingly offers both. he doesn’t save and then abandon.

His feet were run through–the good-news-bearing feet of an active God, willing to enter the houses of sinners, walk in throngs of the diseased and dirty. Stepping down from His heavenly throne, he walked in the dust of the Earth; in humility coming near to prove His compassion.

Scars speak of victory; of battles fought and won. When Jesus rose from the dead and appeared to His followers, he asked them to place their hands in his scars. He beckoned, “Come and touch; experience my triumph!”

They speak of redemption. As new skin grows, the past cannot be changed, but a future with a new look can be created. There’s something about hearing stories of injuries that bind people together in pain and in the sweetness of survival.

Scars indicate struggles. But I’m holding fast to a God who can relate. He doesn’t cast a falsely concerned sad face in our direction. He feels the pain as sharply as we do. We have a great high priest who created and suffered.

Thank you Lord for the scars and stories that you have written on my body, heart, and mind. You are creating something wonderful.

 

 

Go Set a Watchman: The Agony and Joy of Grace

**SPOILER WARNING: This post will discuss some themes of Harper Lee’s new book: Go Set a Watchman, it will also include my personal reflections. While I won’t be giving away any major plot events, if you really don’t want to know anything, I would wait to read this post until you’ve finished reading!

Someone recently asked me: “What did you think of Go Set a Watchman?”

Here are some of my thoughts:

There’s a bifocal lens to view this story and To Kill a Mockingbird. Lee’s masterful “story within a story” approach allows the angst of the south and its new mandated way of being to be a backdrop and a mirror of the inner turmoil that Scout faces. While it may be easy to focus on the racial issues, it seems to me that it’s meant to be more a reflection of inner changes.

Throughout the novel, Scout  examines her personal relationships and reflects on the past as she has the opportunity to see herself and others with new eyes. Gone are the days of black-and-white organization of feelings and facts (literally and figuratively) She is welcoming several shades of gray and learning how to engage people with graciousness. Her main conflict is understanding and relating to her father as she finds some of his beliefs and actions contrary to the pristine image she had of him. She finds herself rattled as her defender, her confidant, best friend, and superman reveals some racist and narrow opinions.

But the valuable lesson Scout learns is accepting her father’s imperfections; He’s not God, he’s a human. And it’s ok for her to disagree with him, and with the way people live in Maycomb. The disagreement doesn’t make her not belong, it makes her Scout: a person with feelings and opinions. The gray area of adulthood is to coexist with many different types of people. Maturity allows us to accept and invite diverse opinions and perspectives along with race and culture.

Like Scout, I am a 26-year-old and I thought Lee captured what it’s like to start spreading your wings and confronting the humanity of your heroes. It resonated with me as I struggle to find the balance of giving grace to those I disagree with and finding a loving way to be a dissenting voice. I expected to walk away hating Atticus, because that’s what the reviews were saying, but I didn’t. He’s doing what he thinks is right, even if it is misguided.

I think too often as children we fall into the trap of all-or-nothing thinking. This tendency causes us to put people and things into black and white categories of good and bad. But the truth is: People are just people. The tendency to demonize or cannonize any person leads to frustration and disappointment.

To be fair, it was an unsettling read about life and how it changes. I think I’m living that right now. I want everything to be perfect–I’m a fixer. But as I’ve seen clients and I look at my own family I just realize that I can’t fix them. And they don’t always need to be fixed. We are convicted differently and will live differently. I don’t have major disagreements about things (not on the scale of racism) but enough where I feel frustrated and need grace to get along with others.

And therein lies the main thrust and the endearing yet frustrating message of Lee’s new novel: Grace-giving is a necessary and humbling experience. Giving grace means experiencing the agony of disappointment, discouragement, bitterness, anger, and hopelessness when darkness is encountered. But grace as a gift and a joy to the giver as it allows for the true loving a humanity, and makes room for a perfect God to be the filler of a soul.

I loved this novel for frustrating me and for pushing me to accept and give grace to myself and to others. I highly recommend it, share your thoughts below about the book!

Diagnostics and the Gospel

I will forever be in love with the TV Show House. Besides the gruff-exterior-with-fragile-interior dynamic of the main character, Dr. Greg House, I love the medical diagnostics that make the series so exciting. Each person starts with a strange list of symptoms and is brought to Dr. House  for an answer. Usually they are on the brink of death before an incredibly rare disease/sneaky condition is discovered and everyone is relieved knowing the diagnosis and treatment.

While I’m no House, I’ve recently had the opportunity to diagnose my own clients. Diagnosing is the art of noticing a set of symptoms and making an educated conclusion about the mental disorder that describes those symptoms. When I entered my internship last year, I was able to put some of my skills to the test as I began to see my own clients. However, classroom lessons are always vastly different from real life experience.

Diagnosing a person is tricky business. Most disorders fit on a continuum with varying degrees of severity and scope. There are even “catch-all” diagnoses that are meant to cover the gaps (Diagnoses “Not Otherwise Specified”). Controversy exists regarding the helpful or harmful nature of diagnoses.Telling someone they have a specific mental disorder may cause stigmas to form, self-fulfilling prophesies to occur, and possible judgement. Labels can by life-draining. On the other hand, categorizing mental disorders has helped mental health professionals treat people more effectively. It is helpful to have a common language to communicate to other professionals so everyone is on the same page. Diagnoses might be a relief to some who are struggling with a burden of mysterious symptoms.

I tend to carry my habit of diagnosing into my own life. The symptoms include: laziness, pride, a judgmental heart, anger, etc. etc. I’m always trying to find the root of these symptoms so I can find the most effective treatment and “fix” it. Just like on TV, there is a desperation in knowing, “What’s wrong with me?!” And I’ve asked that question too many times to count. I don’t know if it’s the insanely curious part of my personality or the aspect of human nature that pushes for answers and order, but lately I’ve been confronted with a diagnosis that is both disturbing and comforting.

Diagnosis: imperfection. And yes, this label can cause me to feel useless and hopeless. It can give me an excuse to act recklessly and shape my worth. But, I cannot forget about the Good News. The treatment for this imperfection is not a treatment that can be given by a therapist, doctor,  or achieved by my own actions. Knowing my diagnosis can cause self-fulfilling defeatedness  and stigmas but, ultimately, it is a relief to know what is wrong with me and what can be done.

My diagnosis doesn’t take any work, because the work has been completed on the cross. Jesus saw my imperfection and noticed how it causes groaning in my spirit. The symptoms of this diagnosis cause pain, restlessness, and despair. But our loving Father has pulled me from the brink of death and drawn me into His glorious light.

My label is not life-draining because The Good News about this diagnosis is that I can shift my attention from who I am and what I can do, and lean into the Great I AM and into what He has done through Jesus. I can rest in my status as a loved one, precious to a Heavenly Father and worth Jesus’ death for my sins (through which I can receive His perfection).

“As we think about God at work in us, we remind ourselves that God is perfection. Nothing we can ever do would be good enough to satisfy God’s perfection. Only Jesus, the Perfect One, is good enough. Nothing  but our faith in Him makes us acceptable to God” Joyce Meyer

I am imperfect. But that’s good news. In my weakness, Jesus is so strong. Mystery solved and another life saved. Amen.

 

Through, By, For

 Immediately he made the disciples get into the boat and go before him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds. And after he had dismissed the crowds, he went up on the mountain by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone,  but the boat by this time was a long way from the land,  beaten by the waves, for the wind was against them. And in the fourth watch of the night he came to them, walking on the sea.  Matthew 14:22-25

Upon hearing this part of Jesus’ life last week, I was mesmerized by the obedience of the water. I could almost see every water molecule rising  as Jesus’ feet touched the surface. I can picture the waves swelling up and rising to meet Him to cushion and support His steps.

Because through Him all things were made. Because by Him all things are made.

The water obeyed because it understood it was made THROUGH Jesus’ identity as the spoken word of God and BY Jesus’ power. But its obedience is mostly wrapped up in the knowledge that everything is made FOR Jesus.

He is the Word of God the physical embodiment of His will and faithfulness; the Crowning Glory of His perfect love; the Fulfillment of all God’s promises. He’s the Exacter of Justice, showing supreme strength and incredible tenderness. We are creations of the living God filled with God’s image and breath of His Spirit. We have been redeemed by Jesus.

As God spoke humans into existence is was THROUGH Jesus we came into being.

And it was BY Jesus that I was reborn when His blood on the cross bought perfect righteousness and clean identity. He saw me in my wickedness. He has compassion on me and He created me and then provided a way.

But my obedience and true devotion stems from the knowledge that I was created FOR Jesus. I don’t often consider being a delight for Jesus. But my existence and my lifestyle of worship is for Jesus’ pleasure. And God in his weird and infinitely wise ways knows that living for Jesus is for the ultimate and complete satisfaction of my restless soul. I was made FOR Jesus.

“Whatever makes us more and more able to enjoy making much of God is a mercy. For there is no greater joy than in the greatness of God” (John Piper, Don’t Waster Your Life).

For by him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities—all things were created through him and for him. Colossians 1:16

Heliocentric Wrestling

In the 16th century Nicolaus Copernicus began asking some disturbing questions. Until that time, Earth was considered the point around which the universe revolved; the centrality of that position created a sense of well-being, stability and importance. Then Copernicus came with his pesky questions about seasons, star positions, and the like. He suggested that the Earth and everything in our solar system revolved around the sun: heliocentrism (sun-centered). This change in thought was resisted by the governing powers at the time (including the Church) because of its incredible implications.

Eventually, this theory was accepted by scientific, political, and religious people alike. But, as Max Lucado notes: “Such a shift comes so stubbornly… We’ve been demanding our way and stamping our feet since infancy. Aren’t we all born with a default drive set on selfishness?” (quote from It’s Not About Me).

 

This monumental paradigm shift forced the change in perception of the axis of the heavens and humanity’s place in the great expanse of creation.

Lately I’ve felt a vague sense of restlessness and frustration that is tainting everything. Many things rub me like sandpaper and I am scraped. I find myself staring into the vastness of the sky and feeling the smallness of my person and the futility of my actions. There’s a heliocentric  shift occurring as I make new conclusions about God, my life, and my purpose.

“What Copernicus did for the earth, God does for our souls. Tapping the collective shoulder of humanity, he points to the Son–his Son–and says, ‘Behold the center of it all.” (Lucado again)

God has tapped my shoulder saying: My child, there is so much more. Behold! I am the center of it all

I’m learning that beholding God changes me. 2 Corinthians 3:18 says “And we all, who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.” The more I look at God, think about his greatness, praise Him for his goodness, and revel in his mysteriousness, the more I become like him and become glorious.

At at first this heliocentric wrestling is unpleasant because it is quite natural to place myself at the center. How am I satisfied when I am consumed with self-forgetfulness (as opposed to selfishness). It doesn’t quite make sense that the less I consider myself, the more I can be satisfied in God because being concerned for myself seems to be the key to securing my sense of well-being, stability and importance.

But, when I consider the universe, it is only logical to conclude “It is about the greatness of God, not the significance of man. God made man small and the universe big to say something about himself.” (John Piper, “Don’t Waste Your Life“). It is relief that my satisfaction, purpose, and joy does not hinge upon my ability to obtain possessions, fame, or knowledge. I am learning that I cannot produce or concoct anything that brings lasting satisfaction and peace. As our tiny earth revolves around the sun, it’s happenings within it’s atmosphere function perfectly. I don’t know all the intricacies of the science behind it, I just know that we were meant to revolve around the sun because it’s what is good for us.

While it doesn’t make sense that I need to revolve my life around God and his Son, when I do that, it is good for me. I find that I am complete with purpose and joy. I find that beholding the Lord gives me a confidence and satisfaction like nothing else. We were created to reflect the glory of the Son, and living in that purpose we settle into wholeness. Let us engage fully in this wrestling and experience the “bump” of being knocked from the center of the universe and find security.