Spiritually Homeless

Home is where the heart is. At least, that's what they say. But what does that mean?

Some people may think it means home is where your affections are. But there's a difference between treasuring something or someone in your heart, and having your home there. Home is a sanctuary, a sacred space where you feel safe. You're able to open up and be yourself. You're more capable of allowing people to know you through and through. Home is not merely a place you value, but it's a place you belong. You can value something from a distance without actually investing in it.

Adam and Eve experienced this kind of home/sanctuary in the garden before the fall. They were naked and unashamed. There was nothing to hide.

With sin, it's much more difficult to find a safe place like this. Because of sin, we have so much to hide. So many secrets from God and others. We need clothes to hide our shame.

But there's a place for taking the clothes back off. First and foremost we need to be naked before the Lord. But there's also a desperate need for open/vulnerable relationships with others. We need to find people we can trust, and learn to be ourself around them. There is never risk in being open with God, but you'll find yourself in danger at the prospect of showing others the tender parts of your being. They may hurt you. They probably will.

Some people have lived in fear for years, and mostly because they still aren't right with God. They haven't been able to open up about sin and secrets. They remain with no home, no sanctuary. In a word, these people are homeless...spiritually homeless.

Co-written with Emily Moeser

A Frustrated Saint

There comes a time as a Christian when you return to the tree of the bitter and nasty fruit of sin one too many times. Time stops and you just ask Why? Why do I keep on cutting others down with my words and my rotten attitudes? Why do I continue to love money and material things above Christ? Why do I always compare myself to others? Why do I lust? Why do I idolize?

Quite frankly, I get frustrated; really frustrated.

If Christ's death is sufficient in and of itself to ransom for himself a bride and to clothe her with his own righteousness, what's the point of leaving the bride here in partial sin and great suffering? Couldn't we at least be a little more sinless...or suffer a little less?

I know there are many answers to these questions, but here's a thought:

One reason God doesn't apply all of redemption at once is so that we can live in a world of concessives

• Although we don't see him, yet we love him. 
• Although we don't see him, yet we believe that he exists. 
• Although we don't see him, yet we worship him. 
• Although sin makes promises, yet we trust obedience to be better
• Although we suffer greatly, yet we rejoice.

The list goes on. We live in a drama where we have the capacity for sin, we've tasted it's fruit, and we've experienced suffering. Though God could change our nature to a much greater degree, he chooses to let us continue the drama with these elements still in place. The old man still has power; his influence remains. God does this in order to show how even a little glimpse of Himself can spur a people to the greatest levels of love and self-sacrifice. Compared to other things in the world, our experience of God is extraordinary. But let me tell you, we haven't experienced God yet. We haven't seen his glory. And one day we'll enter into a new world which he is preparing for us; a world where great wonder and excitement awaits us. But in the meantime, may our lives only make sense through this 'kingdom lense.' 

Running and Coffee

I was almost at the two mile mark of my run (which, if you know me, is definitely the end). I realized at that moment that my relationship to running really reminds me of my relationship to coffee. Let me describe coffee first.

I broke down and started drinking coffee a couple weeks ago. Ever since then, I've been trying to figure it out. When I consider drinking coffee, it always sounds like a good idea. Immediately after I'm done drinking it, there's a strange sense of relief...or even accomplishment. Most of all I like it's affects on me. It gives me energy and life. But all of these positive things seem to stand against the bitter taste of the coffee which I can rarely say I enjoy. There are moments when I enjoy a good brew, but those are few and far between.

I also started running last week. Whenever I consider running, it seems like a good plan. Immediately after I'm done, there's that strange sense of relief and accomplishment. I've come to realize that I most of all appreciate the affect running has on me. It helps me know I'm alive. It gives me greater confidence and somewhat strangely helps bring me out of introverted seasons. It gives me time with God and helps me feel good about myself. Once again, all of these positive things seem to stand against the horrible feeling I get with a cramping stomach or imploding lungs. There are moments when I enjoy a good run...but it's rare for me not to feel like I'm dying.

Sometimes it's not the activity itself that you enjoy, but the results of sticking it through. It's no coincidence that the Christian faith is compared to running a race. Sometimes it's a bitter experiences that help you know you're alive and that make you appreciate the sweet things in life. For the Christian, no pain is arbitrary. It may have a strange (apparently random) cause, but the result is what God has in mind. Just push through and God will bless your faith. (and yes, my analogy just put suffering in the same category as coffee and running; no remorse). May God help us to see the benefits of suffering for his sake. Amen.

Patience vs Complacence

I've come to realize that there's a fine line between patience and complacence. It's an inner difference, and one not readily noticeable by those watching. Because it's such a subtle difference, many people mistake a complacent person for a patient one.

Here's an example: Three people have been working out in the heat all day and are now waiting for dinner. As it cooks on the stove, they can all smell the sweet aroma of an incredible meal. 

The first man sees the food cooking and continues to grumble and complain that it's not finished now. It's easy to see that this man's attitude is wrong. 

The second man, however, is more difficult. In an attempt to be content while waiting for dinner, he decides to ignore the food for a while. By suppressing his desire for what's coming, time begins to slip by almost unwittingly. From the outside, this man appears to be patient. But deep down he just doesn't care anymore. Complacence guises itself as patience. He no longer longs for the blessing ahead, but tries to forget about it until it comes. 

The third man exercises true patience. Seeing something good that is about to come, this man does not suppress the thought of it in his mind. Allowing full desire for the supper to remain, the third man affirms that it is worth waiting for. Because his hopes are held high, the waiting is really difficult and can be described as suffering...or even longsuffering. 

The second man avoids suffering, but his desire for dinner is inadvertently diminished. Not only does he enjoy dinner less than the third man when it finally comes, but a lack of future expectations may undermine his current actions. While it may seem crazy for someone to stop cooking dinner because they no longer desire dinner as much, we can imagine a Christian who stops bearing their cross because they don't desire heaven enough. 

We ought to be like the third man, embracing our present circumstances as God's will while fully desiring the blessing to come. When we look at the fallen world, and the depth of human hurt, and the effects of the curse, there ought to rise in us a deep discontent for the present state of things and yearning for God's renewal. These longings place value on what we long for and help us to endure. For how can we claim to prize something we are trying to ignore? 

(Romans 8:18-25)