Finding Your Calm

More than ever, it seems there is so much upheaval and turmoil in the world. I find that some days there is more sadness than one can bear.

Today, I’m thinking about a pastor that I greatly admire and respect who recently resigned from his pastorship of 14 years, confessing that he was running on empty, burned out, and broken.

I’m also thinking of a friend of mine who was involved in a horrific head-on car accident that has left him in the ICU with multiple broken bones and internal bleeding.

If you let it, the sadness and pain can be overwhelming. The frenetic pace of the world can be exhausting with no rest in sight.

That’s why there needs to be a place of sanctuary in your life.

It doesn’t have to be a physical location. It can be a place in your mind where you go to be reminded that your true identity is not what you do, where you live, how you dress, or how much money you make. It’s the name Jesus has given you and the benedictions He is speaking over you.

I read recently that we need to believe the truth about ourselves, no matter how beautiful it is. Our great worth comes in bearing the image of God and being the Beloved ones of our Abba Father, who was not willing that we should perish, but that we should have eternal life.

Sin continues to distort our perception of our identity. There continues to be rampant evil and unnecessary suffering in the world. The tyranny of the urgent continues to distract and deter us from greater works that will echo long after we’re gone.

That’s why it’s necessary to find a place of solitude where we can hear the voice of the Eternal who existed long before the original sin and will be long after evil and suffering have ceased to be.

 

Dear Abba

“Dear Abba,

Ten thousand things are already vying for my attention. Wait, actually make that ten thousand and one. Some of them are shallow — like what shoes I will wear today — but some of them are legitimate: lunch with a friend, a doctor’s appointment, responding to a letter. Still, they are all earthly things. So startle me, I pray. Burst into the compound of my senses and steal me away from the urgent tyrannies already seeking to keep my eyes fixed on things below. You died for me. For me. That is the one thing; nothing else compares” (Brennan Manning).

That’s my prayer, too. That I would be startled away from the tyranny of the urgent in my own life, to have my eyes fixed on the reason for both Lent and Easter.

I think that says it all on this Saturday before we celebrate Palm Sunday.