Sometimes I think I should put a construction sign outside my door: “Caution. God at work.” Its a continual process, kind of like the non-stop construction on Hwy 155 north of town (a project that has been on-going for at least eight years). With me, its a constant pushing onwards, circling back to relearn basics, and growing more like Christ. I’ve got a long ways to go, and I’m confident that it will take many more years before I get there. Thankfully, the eternal fate of my soul does not depend on how fast or slow I learn life’s lessons. Keep reading:
Lately the lessons seem to be focusing on forgiveness and patience. I’m struggling, honestly, with several emotional wounds. Some people very close to me, people I trusted, betrayed that trust and left me hurting. It is easy to slip into bitterness over it, and some days, I’ll start thinking about those hurts and get so angry I want to explode. But then I begin thinking about Christ—and how Christ endured far worse hurt and betrayal and suffering. The comparison is helpful. My petty wounds pale in comparison to how my actions, my sin hurt Christ. And seeing the magnitude of God’s forgiveness to me pushes me to forgive the smaller, most likely unintentional mistakes of others.
What motivated Christ to walk through that pain? The author of Hebrews writes that it was “for the joy that was set before him.”1 I believe this provides part of the answer for me, as I work to forgive. Forgiving someone hurts. I have to accept the pain, to say, “I am willing to take this pain without recompense. I’m willing to let you off the hook for hurting me.” But it becomes easier for me with the right motivation: The joy that comes from winning a brother2, the joy that comes from relationship with God3, and the joy that comes from living in harmony4. It is easier to overcome those wounds if I focus on the why, the end result.
Patience is a hard for me. I don’t like waiting, and I don’t like being out of control. Right now, God has me waiting in several areas of life for several things. I dislike it. It is hard. But I’m learning patience. I’m learning to rely on God, again, to work things out. So much of my Christian journey has been about these first principles: Trust in the Lord. Do good. Dwell in the land. Befriend faithfulness.5 So I’m back to trusting the Lord. The last major go-around here focused on trusting God for provision when my car’s engine blew. Now, its about trusting God’s sovereignty in working things out that are beyond my control. Its about trusting God’s wisdom; that he works all things together for good. Its about trusting Him to provide for me as I follow His call on my life.
I’ve said this many times, but it bears repeating. Trust is faith in action. I picture rappelling. I can have faith in that rope, faith in the system, faith in the anchor. I can believe that it is strong enough to hold me. I can’t see the strength, but I can have faith in it. But I’m not trusting on it until I’m over the side of the cliff and actually hanging on that line. I can inch up to that edge, hang on with my hands, but that’s not trusting. Trusting is letting go and relying, 100%, on God to live up to His words. Its scary. Its seems risky. It certainly isn’t normal.
But who wants to be normal? Jesus pictures the Christian, in his Sermon on the Mount, as a thoroughly abnormal person. Matthew 6 paints the picture of someone who eschews the “normal” way of focusing on food, and shelter, and clothing, and instead embraces a radical pursuit of God’s Kingdom. He promises that if I make God’s work my first priority, all of those other needs will be taken care of.
I can have faith in this basic concept, but I’m not really trusting God until I take that step off the edge and actually live it. And that is another place God is working me on right now. I believe God has called me to be a pastor, but that is a scary thought. Its a profession where, unfortunately, the average income in America is $24,000 a year. That’s significantly less than I’m making right now, and I can’t imagine supporting a family on that.
The good news is: I don’t have to. If I really believe Christ’s words, and then build my life first on pursuing His work, He will support me and my family. To actually step out on that takes faith, and takes trust.
My life’s journey has really been about God proving his trustworthiness over and over again.