“If we only had eyes to see and ears to hear and wits to understand, we would know that the Kingdom of God in the sense of holiness, goodness, beauty is as close as breathing and is crying out to born both within ourselves and within the world; we would know that the Kingdom of God is what we all of us hunger for above all other things even when we don’t know its name or realize that it’s what we’re starving to death for. The Kingdom of God is where our best dreams come from and our truest prayers. We glimpse it at those moments when we find ourselves being better than we are and wiser than we know. We catch sight of it when at some moment of crisis a strength seems to come to us that is greater than our own strength. The Kingdom of God is where we belong. It is home, and whether we realize it or not, I think we are all of us homesick for it” (Frederick Buechner).

I think that just about says it all.

“The Shepherd laughed too. ‘I love doing preposterous things,’ he replied. ‘Why, I don’t know anything more exhilerating and delightful than turning weakness into strength, and fear into faith, and that which has been marred into perfection. . . .That is my special work” (Hannah Hurnard, Hinds Feet on High Places).

If it helps for a bit of context, remember that it took God six days to create the entirety of the universe and everything in it. Also remember that He’s been working on you since you were in your mother’s womb. Sometimes, the intricate work takes longer, but bear in mind that the end result will be glorious beyond compare.

God delights in taking those weaknesses and turning them into strengths. He delights in taking nobodies and turning them into world changers. He delights in taking your fear and turning it into faith that is afraid but obeys anyway.

God can take the scars from your worst moments and turn them into a testimony of God at His very best. Day after day, nothing seems to change but when you look back over a year or a decade, you understand better that you are not who you were.

I heard an illustration a long time ago that stuck with me. So many Christians are like those buildings where they put fences around the exterior during remodeling. You never see the messy under construction phase, only the polished and perfect final state. So many of us never want anyone to see us in any way that is less than perfect, but God wants people to see us in the middle of growing and becoming. That, not the so-called perfect picture, is a true reflection of someone who follows Jesus.

“When you remember me, it means you have carried something of who I am with you, that I have left some mark of who I am on who you are. I means that you can summon me back to your mind even though countless years and miles may stand between us. It means that if we meet again, you will know me. It means that even after I die, you can still see my face and hear my voice and speak to me in your heart” (Frederick Buechner).

Does anyone else ever randomly remember people you haven’t thought about or seen in a long while, or is it just me? Sometimes, I’ll see someone who reminds me of a someone else that I knew back in the day, and that will open the floodgates of memories for me.

I’ve had lots of people that I’m blessed to be able to remember. Often, those memories come back in the most bizarre and unexpected ways. Then I can smile and look up at God and say, “Thanks! I knew that was you.”

I do think God brings people to mind as a way of spurring us to gratitude. So many have blessed me and taught me so much. Since I can’t necessarily thank them in person, the next best way is to pay it forward to someone else who can maybe in turn one day remember you and what you did for them.

All of these people who waited saw God’s hand while they waited and saw the fruits of their waiting. In every case, waiting on God is always worth it. Running ahead of God because you’re impatient and trying to help Him out never is.

Again, if God is making you wait, it’s usually because you’re not ready for it. Whatever it is is bigger than you can conceive or handle right now. Plus, He might have something for you right now that you’d miss if you weren’t waiting.

As the great theologian Tom Petty once said, the waiting is the hardest part. But in the end, it’s the wisest.

The grammar nerd in me has to point out that it should read “when you’re out of options.” I just had to throw that in there.

But when it comes to worship out of abandonment and brokenness, I thankfully can’t say that I’ve had much experience. I’ve known times when I feel my own sinfulness more keenly and when my weakness is staring me in the face. I’ve had those moments when I most deeply feel my need of God.

Those times are when the prayers flow out of me. That’s when my requests and petitions stop being polite and start being real, to borrow a phrase from the old MTV reality shows back in the 90s.

Some of you reading this know far more about praying from a broken heart and from a place of abandonment. You truly know what it’s like to be alone. You know what it’s like to have nothing but Jesus and nowhere to look but up.

But the Bible says “The Lord is near to the broken-hearted and saves the crushed in spirit “(Psalm 34:18, ESV).

That’s not a feel-good sentiment. That’s a promise.

God is faithful. God knows what it’s like to experience the very worst that humanity can do to you and knows the very depth of suffering like no one else. Jesus was a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief (Isaiah 53:3, ESV).

Sometimes all we have are our tears and sighs. Those are just as acceptable in the eyes of God as the most eloquent prayers ever offered up by any preacher from any pulpit on any given Sunday. They are beautiful to God.

If you ever rode in the back of a station wagon back in the day, your childhood was epic. Bonus points for if it had wooden paneling on the sides. Extra bonus points if it had a rear-facing seat in the back where you could freak out every time a car behind you got super close.

Today, traveling is nothing. We have devices to help pass the time with everything from streaming to audio books to social media. Back in the day, we’d play games like who could find the license plate from furthest away. Either that or we’d try to get a trucker to blow his horn. It was simpler times, apparently.

This was back before the days of GPS, so we had to pull out actual maps that we bought from gas stations to try and figure out where we were going. Either you got good at reading a map or you spent a lot of time wandering aimlessly up and down back roads hoping and praying that you could eventually get to your destination.

For me, traveling as a kid was an adventure. Staying at a hotel was a treat. Even stopping at an Arby’s on the way was a big deal. It’s funny what you take for granted now that would have blown your mind as a kid.

Oh, and everything was a LOT less expensive back then. And probably tasted way better. Just sayin’.

“The stronghold of the Christian faith is the joy of God, not my joy in God. . . . God reigns and rules and rejoices, and His joy is our strength” (Oswald Chambers, The Complete Works of Oswald Chambers, Run Today’s Race).

If my salvation depended on me, I’d have lost it a long time ago. My faith is fickle, and my emotions are up and down, depending on the weather, what I ate last, and about a million other variables. But God is the same yesterday, today, and forever. And so is His joy.

That’s comforting on the bad days when I don’t have any joy in me. That’s assuring on the good days when I know that the joy in me is not my own. I know that my strength doesn’t come from me. The joy of the Lord is my strength.

What a blessed thought that my anchor is steadfast and immovable. When the world around me is chaotic, my God is not. I can rest because I am held by the nail-scarred hands that were wounded for me.

Not that I won’t ever have any more bad days. I know me too well. I know I can take my eyes off Jesus and only see the storm, like ol’ Peter did and sank like a stone. But God is faithful even in the midst of the wind and waves. His path is still through the sea, and His footsteps are still unseen, as the Psalmist wrote long ago.

No matter what, in life or in death, I am held and I am safe.