The best stories make you cry, laugh till you cry, scare you, anger you, and then make you glad again. These are the stories I return to over and over again. I crack the cover, knowing the ending, but wanting to savor the middle.
My life is a story. Your life is a story. I know how my story will end, but I don’t know the details of the middle. Your middle is a muddle too. Sometimes it’s hard and beautiful and ugly and impressive. Even the parts of life that make us sad and mad have a place in our life. If we want to live life well, we must learn to embrace the beautiful hard.
Sometimes I want to be the hero and sometimes I want to be rescued. Recently, however, I wasn’t the hero or the rescuer nor an observant bystander, but I had an opportunity to love the “least of these.” The “least of these” are those children whose parent’s are unable to care for their children and it’s the children whose hearts have known too much pain and known burdens they shouldn’t bear.
Last week, God intersected my heart with two other hearts. My heart shattered into pieces and in the shattering I saw grace in action. I saw the power of love. I saw the power of time. I saw that despite the pain in this world, God is still with us.
For five days, I poured life and love into the dry parched places of their hearts. Their eyes lost the wary look and gained laughter for a few days. We splashed in a lake, made tu-tu’s, played dress up and participated in a jungle safari including snakes, bearded dragons, and turtles. And yes, these snakes hugged necks and crawled up arms and elicited squeals and giggles.
My heart broke into a thousand pieces as I watched these two little girls laugh with abandon and then in the next instance pull the curtain down over their heart.
Trust: It doesn’t come easy once it’s been broken.
Hope: It flickers and sputters.
Joy: It’s foreign and fleeting.
But for one week out of the summer, these children–the ignored, the forgotten, the hurt– experience safe relationships with safe adults. For some of these, the memories made at camp will be their only good memories from their childhood. For one week, these children were told they were special and worthy of time and attention. This one week of love and laughter and carefree living changes lives for the better. It breaks cycles and starts new ones.
Religion that is pure and undefiled before God the Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world. James 1:27
It’s far too easy to reduce religion to where we spend our Sundays and how we worship. It’s easy because running smack dab into the hard awakens us to pain. And we’re a society of pain-avoiders. But Jesus ran toward pain for you and me. He suffered so that we might know joy, and hope, and trust. If he can do this for us, how can we not do this for others?
Yes, I was uncomfortable. I was hot. And the lake was green and smelly. I wondered if I made a difference in these girls’ lives. I remembered things I’d rather forget. I grew reacquainted with tears. I felt inept, ineffective, and ingrown. But God called me to love. He called me to reach the children’s hearts and so I ran toward the suffering of the hurting and wrapped my arms and heart wide around them.
We can reach out to the kid next door whose mom is working three jobs to put food on the table or we can volunteer in children’s ministry in our local church. Often there are children who feel orphaned because of the lack of involvement of their parent’s in their lives and a kind word is like a cup of cold water to a dry heart.
God gives us opportunities to plant seeds of hope, love, and trust in children’s lives and then he takes the seeds we’ve planted and he waters them and makes them grow. I had to say goodbye to my campers and I don’t know their tomorrows, but I know who holds all of our tomorrows and he’s amazing at his job.
With Christ’s death and resurrection the beginning has ended and the eternal journey begins.
It is finished! No more wondering if we’re enough, because we are.
No more questioning whether Christ really is who he says he is, because he is.
It’s the end of the beginning. The end of wandering, the end of separation from God and the try hard life.
Jesus is our beginning and end. The veil that separates us from God is torn and now his love is accessible through the One who was torn, beaten, mocked, and killed for us.
We all have the same beginning: darkness and bondage even when we think we’re free and in the light. But when self rules our hearts and our lives, we become enslaved to what self wants: what we see, feel, and experience.
Christ has come to set us free from the tyranny of self. Christ defeated death so that we may live a life holy and set apart for him. So, you see, Easter really is the end of the beginning.
We get to live the middle part now. It’s the part of life between our resurrection from spiritual death to life, and the day when we see Jesus face to face in eternity. How well will we live?
Will we falter and fail? Will we doubt and question?
Yes and yes. But we have a power available to us. A power that says that “greater is he in me than he that is in the world.” And this I know: it’s grace that enables me to live this life for Christ, through Christ, and in Christ.
It’s grace that transforms me. Grace enables me to give myself up for a living sacrifice. It’s grace that enables our lives to be set apart and holy. I crash and burn when I try and live for Christ through my strength and understanding. I know failure well.
But the beautiful thing we get to experience in our failures is redemption. It’s redemption that makes getting back up again possible. It’s the daily resurrection of my spiritual life when I make “self” the number one motivator in my heart.
I want to live this middle life well, but I know how life gets monotonous and we forget what we did this morning let along two days ago. And when life gets monotonous I forget to look around and see evidences of grace in my life.
Or life is one crisis after another and rather than holding onto the anchor of grace we flounder and hold onto ourselves and our limited understanding. Crisis’ can blind us to the redemptive work of Christ in our lives.
It’s the end of the beginning! Your beginning steps are over and done and now it’s time to run. Run the race God has for you with your eyes fixed on the prize–eternity with the Father of Light. Let him shine that light into all the recesses of your life and keep on running.
You’ll make it. How do I know?
Because God is your strength. He is your love. He is your light. And he will finish it.
“You are my hiding place, you will protect me from trouble, you surround me with songs of deliverance.” Psalm 32:7
My everyday life is not calm, quiet, or still. It’s messy and noisy and involves many people. In my everyday life I’m a tired worn out mess. In my everyday life I end up on auto pilot and struggle to remember what I did the day before yesterday and even sometimes two hours ago.
I love the picture this verse paints—a hiding place, hidden from my troubles and surrounded by songs. Maybe it looks something like a water front cabin tucked into the woods of the northwest. Or maybe it’s a private island with white sand as far as the eye can see. Or maybe it’s a hidden nook in a secret garden with the scent of flowers wafting around.
How in the world do I tuck myself into Jesus while at the same time reaching out and ministering to my family, my church, and my community? Practically speaking, literally hiding is out of the question as is a weekend of solitude in my fantasy cabin. There are too many things that require my attention and time. So how does this verse apply to our lives?
He is my hiding place.
We live on two planes: spirit and physical. The soul—our mind, will, and emotions— is the tie between our spirit and our physical selves. What are my thoughts? What choices am I making? How am I feeling? These components need to be brought into obedience to Christ. We must live aware of our thoughts and how our thoughts lead to actions.
He protects me from trouble.
The fight between lies and truth take place in the battlefield of my mind and the renegade thoughts disrupt the peace of God in my heart. I bring trouble on myself through my choices and thoughts. So I tell myself: Think about Christ. Think about his love and promises. Practice living peace, joy, love, patience, goodness, self-control, kindness. Live aware.
He surrounds me with songs of deliverance.
Ah such hope! He is my hiding place, my protector and songs of deliverance soothe my anxious heart. Do you need deliverance from anxiety? Does fear overtake you? Do you question the sovereignty of God? God—our great creator who holds everything—including you and me in his hands, sings songs over us.
Hiding places make me think of quiet, dark, isolated places, but this verse reveals something different. I’m not alone in this hiding place. And it’s not dark. God is light and in him there is no darkness. Imagine his hiding place filled with the most wonderful and warm light and songs fill the air around you.
When you enter into his hiding place you leave the dark world that threatens your peace and experience the light of his presence. And His hiding place is spacious, light-filled rest. You might be facing a challenging job or boss. Maybe your children are driving you to distraction. You might be staring down a health crisis.
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The hiding place is not there so you can hide from life—but so that you can find a way through life. It’s when we hide ourselves in Christ that we are strengthened because he takes our weakness and turns it into strength. Troubles threaten our comfort level, but when we find ourselves tucked into the light of God then our heart is kept safe. And it’s in the hiding place that God reveals his deliverance. He will reveal a way through.
God loves you. He cares for you. He provides safety and peace while you live the journey he’s set before you.
Will you step into the spacious, light-filled rest of Jesus? Will you quiet your soul so you can hear the songs of deliverance?
Here are a few quick ideas to help you hide in the Light:
Spend time in Psalms: some of my favorites are Psalm 84, 103, or 144
Play your favorite worship song and sit quietly before the Lord.
