The Real Country

“Peter,” said Lucy, “where is this, do you suppose?”. . . “If you ask me,” said Edmund, “it’s like somewhere in the Narnian world. Look at those mountains ahead—and the big ice-mountains beyond them. Surely they’re rather like the mountains we used to see from Narnia, the ones up Westward beyond the Waterfall?”. . .

“And yet they’re not like,” said Lucy. “They’re different. They have more colors on them and they look further away than I remembered and they’re more . . . more . . . oh, I don’t know . . .”

“More like the real thing,” said the Lord Digory softly. . . .

“But how can it be?” said Peter. “For Aslan told us older ones that we should never return to Narnia, and here we are.”

“Yes,” said Eustace. “And we saw it all destroyed and the sun put out.”

“And it’s all so different,” said Lucy.

“The Eagle is right,” said the Lord Digory. “Listen, Peter. When Aslan said you could never go back to Narnia, he meant the Narnia you were thinking of. But that was not the real Narnia. That had a beginning and an end. It was only a shadow or a copy of the real Narnia which has always been here and always will be here: just as our own world, England and all, is only a shadow or copy of something in Aslan’s real world. You need not mourn over Narnia, Lucy. All of the old Narnia that mattered, all the dear creatures, have been drawn into the real Narnia through the Door. And of course it is different; as different as a real thing is from a shadow or as waking life is from a dream.” His voice stirred everyone like a trumpet as he spoke these words: but when he added under his breath “It’s all in Plato, all in Plato: bless me, what do they teach them at these schools!” the older ones laughed. It was so exactly like the sort of thing they had heard him say long ago in that other world where his beard was grey instead of golden. He knew why they were laughing and joined in the laugh himself. But very quickly they all became grave again: for, as you know, there is a kind of happiness and wonder that makes you serious. It is too good to waste on jokes. . . .

It was the Unicorn who summed up what everyone was feeling. He stamped his right fore-hoof on the ground and neighed, and then cried:

“I have come home at last! This is my real country! I belong here. This is the land I have been looking for all my life, though I never knew it till now. The reason why we loved the old Narnia is that it sometimes looked a little like this. Bree-hee-hee! Come further up, come further in!”

From The Last Battle, C. S. Lewis

One day soon. One day soon.

Worship

That’s worship. It’s an every day event.

I know these days there’s an entire industry built around worship and worship music. So many people view worship as an event at a specific location with certain emotions. If you don’t have all three, you don’t have worship, according to these people.

But true worship isn’t an event. It’s not just singing on Sunday at a church building. It’s living in a way that declares the ultimate worth of God to everyone watching. And it expresses itself in everything you do that’s done unto the Lord, from cleaning toilets to emptying the trash to serving your neighbors to singing songs.

True worship is as natural as breathing. In fact, you could say that worship is giving God His breath back. I love that imagery. God breathed life into us. Without that, we’re as dead as any corpse in a graveyard. And when God breathed the Holy Spirit into us, we became spiritually alive.

After that, how can we not offer God’s breath back as a kind of thank you? Even if it’s off-key singing or serving with a bit of self mixed in, God accepts it. Just as any parent treasures the scribblings of their little children presented as pictures, so God accepts our frail and finite offerings of worship, whether it’s in a church building or where we live, work, and play.

May the songs we sing tomorrow be an offering of God’s breath back to God, an extension of a lifestyle of declaring God’s worth every day of the week.

A Love that Conquers the World

“The love for equals is a human thing–of friend for friend, brother for brother. It is to love what is loving and lovely. The world smiles.

The love for the less fortunate is a beautiful thing–the love for those who suffer, for those who are poor, the sick, the failures, the unlovely. This is compassion, and it touches the heart of the world.

The love for the more fortunate is a rare thing–to love those who succeed where we fail, to rejoice without envy with those who rejoice, the love of the poor for the rich, of the black man for the white man. The world is always bewildered by its saints.

And then there is the love for the enemy–love for the one who does not love you but mocks, threatens, and inflicts pain. The tortured’s love for the torturer. This is God’s love. It conquers the world” (Frederick Buechner, The Magnificent Defeat).

I think I know what kind of love I want. It’s the same kind of love that I need every single day. It’s the kind of love that infuriates the world, but also the kind of love that can save the world. Give me that kind of love.

A Friday Eve Prayer

“O God, 
whose blessed Son came into the world that he might destroy the works of the devil and make us children of God and heirs of eternal life: 

Grant that, having this hope, we may purify ourselves as he is pure; 

that, when he comes again with power and great glory, we may be made like him in his eternal and glorious kingdom; 

where he lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, 
one God, 

for ever and ever. 
Amen.

I still believe that God never intended for His people to fit in. He meant (and still means) for us to stand out. We’re the city on a hill. We’re the salt and the light. We’re the physical manifestation of Jesus on the earth until He returns. We hold the only cure for this disease of sin that has ravaged the entire planet.

I kept thinking about the passage in James 1:27 where it says that pure religion is to take care of widows and orphans, i.e. the disadvantaged and unprotected, and to keep ourselves unstained in the world. It’s not an either/or proposition. It’s both/and.

We need to be unstained from Hollywood and from politics. I don’t mean we can’t vote or be involved, but I think we stand outside of both political parties and owe allegiance ultimately and only to a King and a Kingdom rather than to a flag or a country or any platform.

We’re called to be a people who show grace, who love our enemies, and who forgive those who hurt us. We’re not called to argue people into heaven but to love them like God in Jesus loved us when He was not willing that we should stay lost in sin but that we should come to repentance in salvation.

I still think the call to American Christians is to come out from among them and be separate. That might mean leaving churches and denominations that have lost the gospel. That might mean not affiliating with Democrat or Republican. That might mean being willing to risk ridicule for standing up for biblical truth.

I’m praying for another Great Awakening. I’m begging God for another revival like the Jesus Revolution of the early 70s. That’s what it’s going to take. No politician or President can fix what’s wrong with this country. Only Jesus can.

Cup of Sorrow, Cup of Joy

“When we are crushed like grapes, we cannot think of the wine we will become. The sorrow overwhelms us, makes us throw ourselves on the ground, facedown, and sweat drops of blood. Then we need to be reminded that our cup of sorrow is also our cup of joy and that one day we will be able to taste the joy as fully as we now taste the sorrow” (Henri Nouwen).

I love that imagery. I don’t necessarily think that we will at any point sweat drops of blood. That was something Jesus did in moments of extreme anxiety when facing the prospect of the cross. But I do think the sentiment about sorrow and joy is on point.

To think that as much as we taste sorrow now, we will one day taste joy is a joyful statement. As bad as some days are down here, they will be just as good up there. Actually, the worst we go through won’t be able to compete with the best that’s coming. Paul calls it a light and momentary affliction in contrast to the pure joy that awaits.

It’s easy to focus on the crushing and forget the wine that we will become. We can get caught up in how painful the refining process is and neglect that one day Jesus will see His pure reflection in us. What a day that will be. And even in the fire, God is with us.

Prayer in the Mornin’, Prayer in the Evenin’ . . .

“This order and discipline must be sought and found in the morning prayer. It will stand the test at work. Prayer offered in early morning is decisive for the day. The wasted time we are ashamed of, the temptations we succumb to, the weakness and discouragement in our work, the disorder and lack of discipline in our thinking and in our dealings with other people․all these very frequently have their cause in our neglect of morning prayer. The ordering and scheduling of our time will become more secure when it comes from prayer” (Dietrich Bonhoeffer).

I think starting the day off with God’s Word and prayer is key. Even though I am decidedly not a morning person, I still want to begin the day the right way. It’s not a superstitious thing where my day will go off the rails if I don’t start with the Bible and prayer. I do know that there’s a subtle shift in my thinking when I miss my morning devotional time.

But I do it not because of any reward or benefit but because God deserves it. He deserves the firstfruits of my day. And I definitely understand those who save their quiet time for night or just before bed. It’s hard to read the Bible when you can’t keep your eyes open. I get it.

But the real key is to just do it. Carve out time that suits you best. Don’t let your lack of being a morning person deter you from spending time with God in His word and in prayer. So, to borrow the old Nike slogan, just do it!

God’s Will

The older I get, the more I realize that there is nothing I want outside of the will of God. As I’ve heard before, having everything without God is nothing while having God plus nothing else is everything.

I can’t imagine life without God. Instead of owning stuff, my stuff would own me. I’d be a slave to my fears and my lusts and never know true joy. I’d always be the same broken and miserable person from day to day without any hope of change.

I’m learning that the best place to be is smack dab in the middle of God’s will. I can dream of some pretty wild scenarios, but no one out-dreams God. His plans for me and for the world are so much bigger and better than anything my puny mind can conceive or comprehend.

So I wait and I trust. I keep reciting the first part of the Lord’s prayer where it says, “Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” I pray that even if it means that my will be undone, as Elisabeth Elliott used to pray all the time.

I’d rather have my will undone than to get my heart’s desire and be undone by it. I know how people are destroyed by fame and fortune without the grounding to handle that kind of success. I know even the severe mercies of God are better than the praises of men and the rewards of a life apart from God.

So it’s God’s will. Nothing more. Nothing less. Nothing else. Period.

Living on this Side of the Election

  • “It’s not about how the worship music makes us feel on Sunday morning, but how we live poured-out lives of worship from Monday to Saturday.
  • It’s not about how many verses we can quote to defend our political viewpoints, but how well we embody the Word made flesh to our politically opposite next-door neighbors.
  • It’s not about how pious our prayers sound during Sunday School, but how our hearts hear the whisper of God both in our hidden rooms and in our lived-out interactions with others” (Asheritah Ciuciu).

Now that we’re past the dreaded elections (or at least they were for me), we can hopefully return to normal. We can hopefully reach out across party lines to embrace and love those who voted differently than we did. We can understand that there is room in the Kingdom of God for blue and red (as well as many other colors).

The point is that we’re called to love our enemies, period. It doesn’t say to love them if they show remorse for their bad behavior. It doesn’t say to love them if they promise to reform. It says to love them the way Jesus loved those who crucified Him. And how did He do that? He forgave them. He died for them.

We’re also called to honor our leaders, according to Romans 13. That doesn’t mean only those who share my political ideology. It doesn’t mean those we like and admire and can respect. Remember when Paul wrote those words, the ruler was Nero, who was just about as bad and corrupt as they come. Nero was responsible for the martyring of many followers of Jesus. But Paul said to honor him because God in His infinite purposes sets up rulers, good and bad, to accomplish His will.

Ultimately, it helps to remember that we’re all broken. The problem isn’t just out there. We all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God and can share the blame for the problems of this country. We would be wise to drop those stones we want to throw at the Trumps and Harrises of the world and their followers unless we can prove that we’re sinless.

If we live out of love as citizens of a Kingdom more than of a country, we do well. Our ultimate allegiance isn’t to any president or to any flag or any political party or ideology. It’s to a King and a Kingdom. It’s to Jesus who will still be on His throne long after all the presidents and kings and emperors are long gone.

Reframing Your Past, Present & Future

I’ve never thought about gratitude like that before. I get that it changes the way you see your present and can shift how your future plays out, but to change your perspective on your past? That’s a game changer.

The old saying about grace is that it means that your past now serves a purpose instead of serving shame. Gratitude helps you to see how every part of your past, good and bad, has led you to the present moment. God was in all of it with you, taking those dark and painful moments to weave them in with the brighter colors.

Also, sometimes when you look at a famous painting too closely, it looks like a big chaotic mess. You can’t tell anything about it. But once you step back, it becomes clearer. The same applies for life — once you can step back after a few days or weeks or months, you can see more clearly what God was up to in that moment.

You don’t have to give thanks FOR those awful moments and tragedies. But you can give thanks IN them. Paul didn’t say give thanks FOR all circumstances but IN all circumstances, knowing God works all things together for good and there is a redemptive purpose for pain and loss.

I still think about that quote about muddy water becoming clear as it settles and is still. So do we. Everything becomes clear when we cease striving to make it make sense and can be still and know that God is God, to know that God is still in control and in charge.

And it all begins with gratitude.

The Only Path to Joy

“The greatest blessing God can give us is to put us in a position where we must trust him. This is our only path to joy. He will do whatever is necessary to disrupt our self-sufficiency and illusion of control” (Jim Dennison).

That doesn’t sound like much of a path to joy to me. I can think of a million other ways to joy other than by having my plans thwarted and my comfortable routine altered. In fact, I’d like very much to continue to live under the illusion that I’m in at least a little bit of control over my life.

But what I want isn’t necessarily what’s good for me. If I had the opportunity, I could eat my weight right now in those Reese’s Peanut Butter Pumpkin-shaped thingies. You know what I mean. They’re like the peanut butter cups, only they’re in spooky shapes.

Anyway, as long as I think I’m in control, I will never seek out God. I will continue to do my daily autopilot where I think about God on Sundays but about me for the rest of the week. I will pat myself on the back and think how good I have it made with nary a thank you to God for actually providing everything that’s good in my life.

But when the job goes away, that’s when I have to look up. When there’s a new normal, that’s when I recognize how much I’ve needed God this whole time. I remember that what I really crave beyond all the toys and comforts is what only God can give me — namely, God Himself.

So thank you, God, for all those disruptions. Thanks for shattering my delusions of independence and self-sufficiency into smithereens. Now I can see beyond my own little made-up pretend world to find You there and to find out You’ve been there all along.