On the Other Side of the Stone

This post was originally written for my publisher’s newsletter. To get the latest from Ambassador International (and learn more about my publisher), click here.

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Step by careful step, I made my way down the rocky shoreline. The cloudy drizzle made for quiet solitude as waves rolled across heaps of stones and patches of empty sand. The shushing of rushing water was only interrupted occasionally by the gentle clicking of rocks tumbling around each other in a surge of seawater. While peaceful, the beach lacked another human soul or even the companionship of the occasional gull. Worn rocks and dried pieces of driftwood held back the gray ocean; whatever life there was to be found seemed far away. I glanced down to watch my footing and caught a glimpse of green and pale purple. Among the debris, a flower managed to find root and grow. Here was life where it seemed none could flourish. Right in the middle of stone blossomed a testament to God’s handcrafted beauty.

Another, much larger stone once held back beloved life. Across the world many centuries ago, a dead man was tightly wrapped in linen and tucked away inside a tomb of rock. Outside his peaceful safe-keeping, a village full of mourners lamented the illness that took his life as they attempted to comfort his grieving sisters. Four days after his death, his dear friend, Jesus, finally made it to the graveside. Jesus wept along with the sisters while promising that their brother, Lazarus, would rise again. Yet, when He requested that the stone be removed from the tomb’s entrance, the idea of exposing a four-days-dead body caused alarm from his sister, Martha. Jesus reassured her, prayed to His Father, then called His friend Lazarus back into the light of life. What previously appeared to be the end of the story was actually a turning point in God’s greater narrative. God’s children were beginning to see that death was not the final closing chapter. Lazarus would continue living despite death, and later, so would Jesus.

We’ve all seen the passing of dreams, the fading of hope, the end of relationships, and the limits of crushing circumstances. In the bleak times, we have “Martha Vision,” unable to comprehend what God is about to do before our very eyes. Thankfully, Jesus offers the promise of His perspective- one that sees past human doubts and restrictions, turning the pages of a continuing story when we are ready to close the book. Just as He told the disciples, Martha, and her sister Mary (in Luke 11) that Lazarus would live, Christ reassures us that He is the source of hope and a future. The Lord foreshadows the work of His hand in our lives and then works things out for our good (Romans 8:28). We must pay attention to His words and trust that He’ll follow through with what He says He will do.

Flowers don’t emerge from rocks overnight and Lazarus’ death was allowed to linger for days. Yet, while we wait for our story to unfold, we are not left alone with our tears. Jesus wept with His friends, and He is here alongside us in our brokenness. He allows us to grieve, but whispers His promises, urging us not to remain in despair. Don’t stay there in the darkness, child of God. Come out as He calls you into the light of His love.

Friend, there is beauty among the rocks. The contrast of dry stone- literal and figurative- is a backdrop for the brilliant glory and wonder of God’s love. Your personal rocks are the perfect display for the miracles He is blooming in your life. As you carefully navigate your own shoreline stones, remember to hold on to hope. Don’t give up when it seems all debris and driftwood. New growth can thrive in the crevices. And once you discover those precious flowers, celebrate the wonders of His faithful love.

Dangerous Comfort

My daily wardrobe frequently utilizes layers. This particular spring has featured cool, wet weather mixed with sunshine, so it’s smart to be versatile. When I climb into my car, I adjust the thermostat to make sure the temperature is just right, frequently adjusting as I drive toward my destination. But first, a quick stop at Starbucks. Will my coffee by hot or iced? This, of course, depends on how warm or cool I feel in the car! We certainly can’t upset the balance.

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This was a rare “hot coffee on a hot day” day. Because holiday drinks. #starbucksaddict

At work, I turn on the heater. There’s one overhead and a vent at my feet. Later, when I return home, I might open the windows if it’s stuffy or wrap up in a blanket in case of chill (confession, it’s usually both simultaneously). In a month or two, when summer settles on Southern California, my layers will be replaced with tank tops and the office heater will be swapped for air conditioning. My coffee will almost always be iced and a fan will be enlisted into service next to my open window. It’s all about maintaining comfort!

We take such great lengths to control our temperature- and even the temperature of the air around us. If it’s the slightest bit too hot or cold, we quickly adjust. It would be unfathomable to sweat or shiver. But we never stop to think about how slightly ridiculous this is. We are so adverse to discomfort that we practically flee from it, taking great care to control precise degrees Fahrenheit.

Our comfort is considered in our clothing choice, home arrangement, bedding, vehicle interior, and an ergonomically-designed office space. We can now recline at the movie theater and turn a camping trip into a glamping experience. We avoid social awkwardness, conflict, and emotional difficulty. Our comfort is king, and every effort to be in control is necessary.

But what if…. What if for a second we allowed ourselves to bravely venture into the little-known territory of discomfort? What would we find there? Misery? Panic at the lack of control? Chaos careening willy-nilly into despair? Would our world crumble into pieces around us?

Why is discomfort scary?

Perhaps it’s because we aren’t aware of its value. We feverishly avoid being uncomfortable because we are blind to the ways God can shape it into beauty. Discomfort naturally prompts us to growth while developing something greater in us. Exercise at the gym is not comfortable. It’s hot and sweaty; muscles ache and thirst persists. But strength increases and the health rewards are great. This isn’t something that can be achieved from soft couch cushions- fitness requires discomfort.

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Photo by mali maeder on Pexels.com (This is clearly not me, but one day I shall have good beach yoga form!)

Sin should make us uncomfortable, yet we’ve found ways to make it cozily fit into our lifestyle. Excuses and comparisons justify the ways we aren’t *quite* in line with God’s Word. We just adjust the spiritual thermostat to our liking and go about our day. However, when the Holy Spirit gently prods us, the discomfort of conviction begins to pervade our souls and it’s not pleasant. Guilt and shame can quickly overtake us if we’re not anchored in faith. We thrash around in the waves of despair, nearly drowning until we reach out and take the hand of our Heavenly Lifeguard. It’s tempting to retreat to the safety of the comfortable set-up we have on the shore of complacency, but eventually that also becomes a place of discomfort when we feel stagnant and stuck.

abraham-starsThere is little choice but to relinquish control and allow the Lord to lead us through discomfort. In the face of intimidating unknown territory, will we close our eyes and protest or allow God to lead us into new adventure? In Genesis 12, God told Abram to leave home and travel to a land that He would later reveal. Abram was asked to abandon physical comforts as well as the stability of his family and community. Travel would be literally uncomfortable in addition to difficulties being a foreigner in strange lands. But God didn’t call Abram into these circumstances without reason. This was the route to blessings beyond generations and a spiritual legacy that continues even now with you and me. There’s no way Abram could have truly imagined that his descendants would actually outnumber stars and sand, yet his discomfort was part of the journey to exactly what God promised.

Now comes the part where we look inward. How has our obsession with comfort blinded us to God’s reality? What are we avoiding as we cling to what we decided somewhere along the way was absolutely necessary for happiness? What do we risk in discomfort…. and what do we have to gain?

Here’s our challenge: step out of the comfort zone. Genuinely ask God to reveal something uncomfortable in order to become more like Christ. Then, take a step. Read a book by an author with a different point of view. Visit a new church. Serve a group of people that you don’t know very well who might not be like you at all. Have a conversation with someone you love about a topic you’ve been avoiding. Change your routine and ask the Lord to lead you to something new and fresh. Pursue a new skill that brings you in contact with new people- and go with the heart to learn from them, not to teach them anything. Take a chance with vulnerability before running quickly from it.

Or perhaps embrace small efforts and refrain from touching the thermostat today. You never know what beautiful thing God will craft from the smallest discomfort. Stepping out with Him into the unknown waves is the beginning of a great adventure.

Make Space

On one special Sunday each year, the kids and youth of our church lead the worship service. The youngest members of our congregation sing with the praise team, read prayers, and pass the offering baskets. The youth group even handles the sermon! On this special Sunday each year, there is usually a surprise blessing or two.

I’d show you our adorable church kids, but, you know, privacy reasons.

I sat on the floor of the front row- near enough to direct which kid was up next, but out of sight so parents could take pictures. Praise was in full swing with three second-graders enthusiastically belting out “I Am Free” accompanied by the adults on our worship team. Suddenly, I felt a little someone sit down on the floor next to me. A four-year-old from the other church who shares our building had wandered in. Perhaps it was because I was a familiar face, or maybe she was drawn to the other kids, but there she sat and began to clap along with the beat.

After a minute, she whispered something in my ear. I had no clue what she said, so clearly the logical response was to answer, “ok.” Apparently, she asked permission to join the second-grade singers, because she hopped up and began to creep step-by-step toward the girls belting into the microphone.

None of the three singers had ever met the four-year-old. However, the minute the girl on the end spied this aspiring praise leader making her way up to the front, she didn’t pause or look confused. She did not glance at me for permission or clarification. Instead, she immediately smiled at the four-year-old, motioned her forward, and moved over to make space for what was now a quartet. The new kid was welcome, no questions asked.

Are we making space?

Perhaps we have accepted that there is room for us in the kingdom of God; we have a purpose and place securely in His love. But are we looking so closely at our own situation that our eyes are not on our approaching neighbor? Of the three second-grade singers, only one saw the four-year-old while the other two held razor-sharp focus on the song lyrics in front of them. This was not wrong; they were worshiping the Lord with everything they had. There is no condemnation for these young disciples. However, can we see any parallels in our own spiritual walk?

While we dig deep into Bible study and unearth layer upon layer of godly knowledge, do we pause to look up at our neighbor? When we feel surrounded by His comforting presence, do we open our arms to embrace a brother or sister who is wandering around, feeling a little lost? As we rejoice in the splendid delight of what God created, do we keep it to ourselves or point out the wonder to whoever is nearby? During the healing of our broken heart, do we see another broken person and reach out?

Are we making space?

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Photo by Helena Lopes on Pexels.com

God’s kingdom is not only for ourselves. The personal nature of a relationship with the Lord can unwittingly push out our neighbors. But to do so is a violation of the community God intended. Paul’s letters are full of calls to unity as the early Christians began to form a church. “Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful. Let the message of Christ dwell among you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom through psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit, singing to God with gratitude in your hearts” (Colossians 3:15-16). We are called to live in harmony with one another, bear each other’s burdens, and spur on one another to good deeds. Our life in Christ was never meant to stop at ourselves.

 

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Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Since we were instructed to love both our neighbors and our enemies, that means there is not a single person exempt from God’s love. That’s pretty easy to accept when we define love by simply being nice to someone or even to go as far as to (gasp) like them. However, it’s foolish to leave it at that and pat ourselves on the back. Love happens in our actions. It takes sacrifice and intense effort. It means making space.

It’s not initially comfortable, but there is space for every need in God’s kingdom. There is a place for the migrant fleeing violence. For the LGBTQ community. For the woman considering abortion. For the inmate on death row. For the diabetic who can’t afford insulin. For the lawmakers voting for polarizing legislation. For the trolls on social media typing in anger. For all of those people that we’ve transformed into an “issue” and lost sight of their humanity. But, instead, we were called to the heart-breaking work of love.

Making space could mean putting our open Bibles to the side, scooting over, and welcoming our neighbor into God’s love. It’s a listening ear and an open heart. We must look through the eyes of the Holy Spirit and see a beautiful soul– not a problem or a project, but the son or daughter that God holds precious. It would be excruciatingly cruel to require conditions before entering His welcoming space, a conformity to our own ideas of acceptability. To make space is to allow God to sort things out, and then with His guidance to pursue truth in love at the right pace.

He made space for us, and when we make space for others, it ultimately makes space for Him. (Don’t believe me? Check out Matthew 25). What can we learn from our singing second-graders? Will we allow the example of His children to lead us? Take a moment to look around you. Who is creeping up the aisle toward the loving relationship you have with Christ? Who is hesitantly approaching grace but needs the assurance of your welcome to take that final step?

Are you brave enough to love?

 

How Does Your Garden Grow?

In the middle of her graveled backyard, my friend cultivates gardening miracles. During the summer, raised beds are filled with flowers, herbs, and vegetables, while potted fruit trees line the perimeter. Her hard work transforms an ordinary yard into vibrant green space.

The heart of spring is a season of preparation. Today, fresh soil was added to the beds, and next a new irrigation system will be installed. It will soon be ready for brightly-colored blossoms and an abundant crop of produce. Yet, the miracles have already begun.

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The blueberry bush survived heavy winter rainstorms and urban critters that nightly dig through the dirt at its base. Most of the leaves have fallen, leaving bare branches with low expectations for harvest any time soon. Yet, closer examination reveals berry upon berry. Despite hardship, it’s still bearing beautiful ripe fruit.

20190507_084259A patch of daisies rests under the shadow of the blueberries. They, too, have survived the temperamental weather and outlasted their neighbors. Though many blooms droop and sag, dozens and dozens of buds are poised to burst open into the sunshine at any minute. Resiliently they’ve stood for nearly three years as a testament of hopeful endurance.

Across the yard, green onions proudly sprout tall from their own bed, but they refuse to be contained. Somehow, they’ve managed to escape the confines of the soil and begun to grow in the gravel below. The harsh conditions of shallow rock are not enough to deter their reach for the sun as they develop savory onions for a future of salsa and soups.

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How are we growing? We like to wait for ideal conditions- the perfect balance of rain and sun in our lives. Just enough hardship develops character so we can live happily in easygoing days free of excessive challenges. We prefer to surround ourselves with other people in full bloom so that no one brings us down. When our environment nourishes us as it should, we will thrive and bear great fruit, right?

Except our reality is more like my friend’s garden. Trials can come in torrents followed by extended spiritual drought. The ups and downs of life blow us one way and then another quickly enough to cause emotional whiplash. We are so focused on survival that we don’t even consider the idea that anything good could be produced from the chaos.

Consider words from Jeremiah’s prophecy:

“But blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in him. They will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit” (Jeremiah 17:7-8).

It’s easy to forget the very One who makes onions grow in gravel and daisies bloom without ceasing. We can sow literal seeds and water them, but the Lord is the one who brings life from the ground. This same God fills us with His Holy Spirit and yields fruit like love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Galatians 5:22-23). This fruit is visible in kindness to a friend, compassion to someone in need, and our relationship with Him taking deeper root. The miracle is the way His fruit bursts forth from the rocky, dry soil of life’s difficulties, and how His goodness survives the violent storms of tragedy and hardship.

Here’s the crucial thing: we MUST remember this when the bad stuff threatens to choke us out like weeds. The knowledge that a Master Gardener is tending carefully to our souls keeps us reaching for the Son when only dark clouds are in sight. Giving up is not an option, and it’s not even necessary. We are more than survivors, we are producing a crop of spiritual fruit ripe for the harvest. So we can give from our gifts, like the blueberry bush. We can stand tall like onions in any conditions. And let us burst forth like daises, sharing the joy of enduring hope.

 

You Got Q’s, I got A’s

This week has been a whirlwind of prep for two big events at the church where I work. It seems like a good time for some Q and A, so here we go!

(For fun, I also present some photos straight from my phone for your viewing enjoyment.)

20190421_162006How did you start writing?

As cliché as it sounds, I was writing poems and stories as soon as I could put words together into sentences. Also, my mother saved a handmade sign upon which I had scribbled the words “Anser Office” and set up shop like Lucy’s psychiatrist booth, so I’ve apparently also always been happy to tell people how to do things.

Why do you write?

Oh goodness, so many reasons. Sometimes it’s to work out an idea or to express thoughts and feelings. A lot of it is to connect with others, like you. Of course, everything we do is ultimately to give glory to God, so I pray my writing does that. 20190417_221915

How do you research?

It’s been said that a good writer is a good reader, and I stand by that sentiment. So reading as much as I can from as many different points of view as possible is a good start. Observation is always research, as bits and pieces of what we see and experience end up in our writing. Of course, research methods are driven by the nature of a specific project. For “The Other Three Sixteens,” I not only read the scriptures involved, but used commentaries and other related sources. When dealing with biblical subject matter, we also have the opportunity to go to the primary Source in prayer.

What helps you to write?

Well, lately, I’ll take any help I can get as I battle writers’ block! Quiet is also helpful, as is a good cup of coffee. A creative environment, like a local coffee shop, always seems to help things along. Mainly, it’s the inspiration of whatever I’m writing. Being passionate about the subject matter is a huge motivator.

What inspires you to write?

Our Creator motivates me to be creative. There’s so much wonder in this life He’s made, so much beauty in people, so much wrapped up in love. Writing is kind of like taking a snapshot and preserving a thought in a moment from a specific point of view. We could take endless looks at our world and never run out of things to see. 

What lessons have you learned in the publishing process?

For starters, publishing is so slow! After the book itself is written, the editorial process requires careful attention to detail. Right now, “The Other Three Sixteens” is being formatted and a cover designed, and I’m waiting to hear an official release date. When I self-published “Bible Time for Active Kids,” everything ran at the speed of… well, me. However, there are advantages to traditional publishing that make it worth the wait- like more distribution and marketing opportunities. When “The Other Three Sixteens” is widely available, it will be a day to celebrate! So the lesson here is, I suppose, patience. Sigh.

 What are your passions outside of writing?

Ooh, so many things! I work with kids at a church and I enthusiastically love my job. When I have free time, the ocean calls my name and I head to the beach. My two dogs are basically love wrapped in fur. It’s been awhile since I worked in the theatre, but there’s a special place in my heart for stage and film production. Meanwhile, I’m active with Team World Vision, fundraising to bring clean water to kids around the world (you can help do that here).

 

This is a little peek at me as an author, but I’m happy to answer any additional questions in the comments below.  I would also like to hear a little bit about you! Please choose one of the above questions and give your own answer in the comments!

Working Through the Nothing

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Photo by Tom Swinnen on Pexels.com

My brain loves extremes.

Some months are extremely slow and dark, while others are bright and rushing forward at lightning speed. Each season comes with benefits and challenges, and life has adapted to the ebb and flow of bipolar disorder.

Occasionally, a mysterious hush settles and I find myself in…. stability.

Whether it’s a natural shift in the cycle or a product of medication, I’ll never know. Perhaps it’s a combination of both. Untangling what parts of me are my true self, mental disorder, or the effects of meds is an unsolvable puzzle. So I must learn to be content with uncertainty, something only accomplished with the strength of the Lord’s help.

So it is now that I have settled into the peaceful lull of such stability. The calm is reflected in my work at church, allowing me to steadily handle the stress of a busy holiday season. But my creativity? This is where I feel something is lost.

I know we’re supposed to be defined by who we are the Lord, and that’s a subject to be explored deeply. However, I would be lying if I didn’t admit that “creative” is one of the first words that begin my description (though this is how He created me, so it’s for a good reason!). Without the ability to dream and write and paint and make colorful solutions to problems, I feel adrift in a sea of nothing.

My writing has slowed to a lazy halt. I feel like I have nothing to say, not even empty, valueless words. How can I call myself a writer when I’m not producing any work?

What do we do in these seasons where we feel empty-handed and unlike ourselves?

When the guilt of not fulfilling our God-created purpose hangs heavy like a dark cloud of our heads, whispering about what we should be doing and how we are neglecting something very important? How do we stop slipping farther away from our calling and return to the light of the Lord’s design for who we are and what we do?

First, we MUST stop defining who we are by what we do.

He who created us is ultimately who gets to call us by name. He has appointed us “beloved” and “child,” precious identities that remind us how dear we are to our Heavenly Father. Meanwhile, I believe He has more personal names for us, just as He renamed His disciple Simon as Peter (“The Rock”) and Jacob became Israel (because he struggled with God and man and overcame). The more time we spend with the Lord, the more we understand how He calls us. Then, what we do is defined by who we are.

Therefore, it’s imperative that we are in His presence as often as possible! How many times have we lamented feeling far from Him, all the while neglecting our prayer time and allowing our Bibles to become dusty on the coffee table? How can we live in the midst of our purpose if we are disconnected from our Source? The first step is to desperately seek Him. Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you. That’s a promise.

The push forward requires great effort, but do it anyway.

Writing this post has taken a great deal of time and thought. I doubt every word even as I currently type, delete, rephrase, and hesitantly move on to the next sentence. My mind seems vacant, experiencing a parched drought void of inspiration. Yet, I present my meager offering and pray that God will find it as useful as the widow’s mite. What seems small to us can have greater divine impact than we imagine. Every baby step finds us that much closer to living in His purpose.

Despair traps us in the lie that we are stuck. We may have paused or become restless in a season of restoration intended to prepare us for what is ahead. However, our story has not reached the end. Do not give up, perfectly-designed child of the Most High. There is no reason to panic when all seems lost- because you are still securely found. You have never been outside His reach, even when you were looking the other direction and missed seeing Him. We will not always abide in our stagnant seasons, but we must keep our eyes open for the treasures that are hidden here while we wait. God will not waste a minute, even when it appears we are standing still. Rest confidently, assured that your purpose is not lost or revoked.

As I fondly think of fruitful melancholy or productive hypomania, I will try to unearth the creativity tucked away in the corners of my mind and on the edges of my soul. Deliberately trusting that God is using the quiet season is difficult, yet it’s also breathing life into my spirit. He is the one who defines us and gives us purpose, and He is the one that works through us to fulfill His plans. The willingness to be available to Him is something we can definitely do at any time, and that is a beautiful offering that delights our Lord.

 

 

 

Running Right Past Glory

With a deep breath, I put one foot in front of the other and began to run.

Ok, so it was a moderate jog (but with lots of effort).

The music in my earbuds set the pace, and I was determined to achieve a mile in a reasonable amount of time. I made sure to keep my eyes focused up and out, not on the sidewalk below. Soon, my heart was beating and my lungs were thirsty for more oxygen. “Can’t stop, won’t stop,” I told myself.

Step by step, minute by minute, song after song on my playlist….. until the little Map My Run voice said I reached a mile in twelve minutes and two seconds! I celebrated by allowing myself to walk and catch my breath as I turned around and headed the mile back. With a mix of walking and jogging, I soon found myself where I began, ready for a drink of water and some breakfast.

Did I mention this was the view?

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Despite thirty minutes running along ocean cliffs, I barely glanced at the waves below. Dolphins could’ve been dancing through the glittering water, whales might have exhaled mist, and pelicans surely glided over the surface in expert formation….. and I was oblivious. I do vaguely recall the sweet smell of some sort of flower as I ventured face-first into a cloud of gnats. There was also some sort of bird calling near a bush on my return mile. I ran past a lighthouse and didn’t even look up into its weathered windows standing silent vigil over the channel as faithfully as if it were still in service.

I was surrounded by beauty and I missed it.

The tragedy is this is how most of us live daily, constantly absent from God’s glory around us.

When Jesus said, “The kingdom of God is at hand,” I think He meant it in more than one way. Clearly, God’s plan for the forgiveness of sins through Christ’s death and resurrection were about to happen. But perhaps God’s kingdom is more complex that mere salvation. Could it be that the kingdom of God includes His creation and His will? His kingdom in a new heaven and earth is to come, sure, but it’s also here and now, at hand. (Book recommendation for more on this: The Divine Conspiracy, by Dallas Willard. It’s a bit dense, but very much worth your time.)

We are surrounded by the glory of God.

Just as I blindly ran through stunning creation with my eyes all but closed, we spend our days so focused on tasks and worries that it creates tunnel vision, blocking out the wonders and beauty. It’s in the sky and the wildflowers on the side of the freeway. It spills over from the love of a dog happy to see you when you walk in the door. The notes and rhythms of music coming from the radio are a gift. And every single person that crosses our path is a walking masterpiece, intricately and lovingly handmade by our Heavenly Father. Like moving a prism in light to reveal more rainbows, if we could see our neighbor through God’s eyes, every new angle would reveal another treasure. However, we run right past it all, focused on how hard our muscles are working and seeing only the mile marker ahead.

There is extreme danger in running through life with tunnel vision. It’s more than missing the surrounding delights.  We miss the urgent messages from God intended to reach our ears with necessary frequency:

“I am with you. I love you.”

 

When it feels like our prayers are unheard and that God is far away and unreachable, a little bit of terror creeps in, like a small child separated from a parent in a crowd.  I imagine God reaching over, removing the headphones from our ears, and softly reminding us that He’s right here. In those moments when He catches our attention, will we pause the playlist and listen, or turn it up so we don’t lose our goal-seeking pace?

The kingdom of God is at hand. The glory of the Lord is all around us. When we miss it, it isn’t because it isn’t there, but because we aren’t looking. We aren’t seeing. After sharing a parable with a crowd, Jesus spelled out its meaning to His disciples. He said that their eyes and ears were blessed because they saw and heard. He reminded them of Isaiah’s description of rebellious Israel, “For this people’s heart has become calloused; they hardly hear with their ears, and they have closed their eyes” (Matthew 13:15a).

Let’s open our eyes, disciples, and witness the glorious kingdom of God.