Tag Archives: Despair

Chapter-a-Day

Comforted to be a Comfort

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Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.
2 Corinthians 1:3-4 (NIV)

I was in the middle of one of the most intense times of pressure I’ve ever experience in my entire life. Amidst the pressure cooker, I sat down with a wise man of God I’d never personally spoken to before. I shared with him my present circumstances and my emotions. He was kind in listening. I was then surprised when he didn’t really comment on my circumstances or my troubled heart. He simply and gently said, “Someday, you are going to encounter someone who is going through similar circumstances. When that happens, God is going to use you to walk with them through it.”

Just five years later, his prophetic words came true.

Over the past few years, our local gathering of believers has gone through a major season of leadership transition. As part of the change, a major undertaking took place to articulate our mission in this next season. It goes like this: “Every one, every day, helping one another experience life-giving freedom in Jesus.”

I’ve spent a lot of time meditating on this mission statement, and it came to mind this morning as I read the opening of Paul’s letter to the believers in Corinth. Paul had been in a season of intense troubles. So intense, in fact, that he says he despaired of life itself. Yet, amidst these troubles he says that he learned not to rely on his own personal resources, but to rely on “the God of all comfort.” He also shares that the experience of divine comfort amidst life’s troubles had the divine purpose of helping others when they are going through similar troubles.

“Someday, you are going to encounter someone who is going through similar circumstances. When that happens, God is going to use you to walk with them through it.”

In the quiet this morning, I’m thinking back to the intensity of that season of life and am grateful that it is now a distant memory. I’m thinking about the life-long friend I made when I found myself helping another person through similar troubles. I’m mindful that he, in turn, has similarly helped others through similar circumstances. This is how the body of believers is designed to operate.

“Every one, every day, helping one another experience life-giving freedom in Jesus.”

I’ve learned along my life journey that there are spiritual purposes in the pains I experience. Navigating trials, troubles, and difficult circumstances are requisites for spiritual maturity. The purpose doesn’t end with my spiritual maturity, however. That is just the beginning. As I experience God’s grace, comfort, peace, joy, and faithfulness through difficult seasons, I am equipped and called to help others do the same.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

These chapter-a-day blog posts are also available via podcast on all major podcast platforms including Apple, Google, and Spotify! Simply go to your podcast platform and search for “Wayfarer Tom Vander Well.” If it’s not on your platform, please let me know!
Chapter-a-Day

Needed Words

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“Don’t be alarmed,” he said. “You are looking for Jesus the Nazarene, who was crucified. He has risen! He is not here. See the place where they laid him. But go, tell his disciples and Peter, ‘He is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him, just as he told you.’”
Mark 16:6-7 (NIV)

Wendy and I read an article over the weekend in The Free Press about The Absurd Genius of Netflix Christmas Films. Apparently, Netflix has been producing an entire genre of Christmas themed romantic comedies aimed specifically at the Millennial generation. Hot Frosty?! Yes, it’s what you think, and you don’t want to know. No thank you. I enjoy a number of modern Christmas movies, but I’ll always be an It’s a Wonderful Life kind of guy.

In my lifetime, the Christmas movie genre has become a thing. Yes, there were a handful of classic Christmas movies that played annually on the four broadcast television channels we could get in home growing up. But then cable television became a thing with tons of channels looking for Christmas programming to attract viewers, including the Hallmark Channel. You might not know it, but no one had really heard or remembered It’s a Wonderful Life when I was a kid. It took on a life of its own because it had fallen into obscurity and no one claimed the rights to it at that time. This meant that every cable channel could broadcast it for free, and they did. For a few years it was on every channel all the time. Between that and the invention of home video cassette recorders, millions rediscovered the movie for the classic it is. Everyone today knows the story of George Bailey, and that’s a good thing.

I have a file in a drawer in my office. In this file are words of encouragement I’ve received from people across my life journey. I keep the cards, hand written notes, postcards, and the like because one of the things I’ve learned about myself across the years is that I have a penchant for occasionally spiraling into a pessimistic funk. People are always surprised to learn this, but you can ask Wendy. It’s a thing. Like George Bailey, I start to think that nothing I do in this life really matters. It’s funny to even write that sentence because it sounds silly and dramatic enough to be in a Hallmark Christmas movie. Still, that’s the point. I occasionally need a reminder that my feelings are silly and dramatic, and the words in that file folder remind me of that. I honestly can’t remember the last time I actually opened that file, but I know it’s there.

I thought of this in the quiet this morning because I noticed that when the angel announces to the three women that Jesus had risen from the dead, Mark records that the angel says, “tell his disciples, and Peter.”

When we last saw Peter in the story a couple of chapters ago, the rooster had just crowed. Peter’s rock solid commitment to be loyal to Jesus to the death had crumbled into three fear-driven lies. He claimed he didn’t even know Jesus.

It’s not hard for me to imagine Peter’s shame. He was the man Jesus had appointed leader of The Twelve. Peter was one of Jesus trusted inner circle. Jesus depended on Peter. It was Jesus who turned “Simon” into “Peter, the rock.” When it came to the crucial moment when Peter assumed that Jesus needed him the most, “the rock” turned out to be pea gravel. He failed the test. His faith in Jesus turned out to be a sham, and Jesus’ faith in him was all for nothing. At least, I can imagine Peter muttering that to himself.

Then, the angel names Peter specifically. Tell the disciples and Peter.

Peter, this isn’t finished.

Peter, don’t think for a second that you’ve been relieved of duty.

Peter, meet Jesus in Galilee. He needs to have a word with you.

Life is a marathon, and along the way I believe every person hits the wall, not just once, but multiple times. Along the race, we need occasional reminders like Clarence provided George, like the words in that file folder in the drawer behind me, like the angel gave Peter through the ladies at Jesus’ empty tomb.

I’d like to wish you and your loved ones a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. I am taking a break from this chapter-a-day journey for the rest of the holiday season, and will see you back here, Lord willing, in 2025. If you need a fix, please remember there’s an entire archive of past posts on the website at: https://tomvanderwell.com/2019/09/02/chapter-a-day-posts-by-book/

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

These chapter-a-day blog posts are also available via podcast on all major podcast platforms including Apple, Google, and Spotify! Simply go to your podcast platform and search for “Wayfarer Tom Vander Well.” If it’s not on your platform, please let me know!

Chapter-a-Day

The Mystery

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Message in the Mystery (CaD Ezk 43) – Wayfarer

The glory of the Lord entered the temple through the gate facing east. Then the Spirit lifted me up and brought me into the inner court, and the glory of the Lord filled the temple.
Ezekiel 43 (NIV)

I love a good mystery. It’s always been one of my favorite genres of novels. Wendy and I love a good British mystery drama more than just about any other thing on television. Life is full of mystery, and from Genesis to Revelation the Great Story has plenty of its own mysteries and we’ve been reading about one of them the past few days as Ezekiel is given a vision and very detailed blueprints and instructions for its construction. But it’s never been made.

In today’s chapter, the vision and tour of the Temple is complete and Ezekiel sees the glory of the Lord arrive from the east through the East gate. This is significant because back in chapter 10, Ezekiel was shown a vision of God’s glory departing from Solomon’s Temple in Jerusalem. So it would appear that Zeke is seeing a vision of the Temple that will replace Solomon’s Temple which had been reduced to rubble by the Babylonians.

But when the Hebrews returned to Jerusalem after the fall of the Babylonian Empire at the hands of the Persians, they faced the monumental task of rebuilding the walls of Jerusalem as well as rebuilding a Temple. Resources were few and the Second Temple began as a fairly modest structure. It would later be expanded and refurbished by Herod, but it was never built as Ezekiel described.

So why would God give Zeke this vision and instructions for a Temple that has never been built? It’s a mystery, and there are many theories across both the Jewish and Christian spectrums of thought.

Many Jews believe that Ezekiel’s Temple is the Third Temple that will be built in Jerusalem one day. The pesky problem there is that right now the Muslims control the Temple Mount where it should be constructed and the Al Aqsa mosque that stands there is a holy site for Muslims. If you’ve been watching the news lately you’ll be reminded that there’s not a lot of goodwill between the Muslims and the Jews, so I don’t think that’s going to happen any time soon. Nevertheless, a lot of work has been done (and money raised) to prepare for the Third Temple’s construction one day. You can find architectural design images online showing what it’s projected to look like.

For Christians, many believe that Zeke’s Temple will be built during the end times. Others believe that Zeke’s Temple was the plan but the Jewish people forfeited the opportunity for its construction by their disobedience and it will never be built. Still, others see it as a precursor vision to the same vision John sees of a New Jerusalem in the final two chapters of Revelation when there is a new heaven and a new earth.

So which is it? It’s a mystery. I can choose one of the theories that makes the most sense with my understanding of the prophecies of the end times and John’s Revelation but even that mystery is interpreted in a host of different ways.

Richard Rohr in his book The Divine Dance says that mystery isn’t something we can’t understand but something we can endlessly understand. There are messages for us in the mystery itself. As I’ve peeled back some of the layers of this envisioned Temple over the past few days I think that it’s fascinating how there is a thread that weaves itself through the entire story.

For me, one of the biggest spiritual lessons for me in Ezekiel’s vision is the hope. Ezekiel and his contemporary, Jeremiah, witnessed and experienced one of the darkest periods of history for the Hebrew people. They literally lost everything, and were taken into exile, their nation and their Temple (one of the fabled seven wonders of the ancient world). And what does one need most when you’re down and out and without hope? You need a vision that gives you hope for what could be. In this darkest of times, God is giving Zeke and his fellow Hebrews that vision.

It was in a letter to Zeke and his fellow Hebrews, suffering in the darkness of their despair in Babylon that God through Jeremiah said:

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

Those words weren’t given to bright, affluent high school graduates looking forward to their Freshman year in college. You’d think so given the number of cards and trinkets that have those words printed on them every May. And, while the promise is true for those bright high school graduates, it’s helpful to understand that those words were originally given to a people who had lost everything, had experienced terrible suffering we can’t even imagine, and were living in a foreign land in a hopeless situation. In the pit of their hopeless despair, God gives them a vision and hope.

As another person who suffered terribly, Corrie Ten Boom loved to say, “There is no pit so deep that God’s love and grace aren’t deeper still.”

I don’t know for certain if or when Ezekiel’s envisioned Temple will ever be constructed, but that is the message I find in the mystery.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Chapter-a-Day

This is the Way

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This is the Way (CaD Ezk 37) – Wayfarer

Therefore prophesy and say to them: ‘This is what the Sovereign Lord says: My people, I am going to open your graves and bring you up from them; I will bring you back to the land of Israel.
Ezekiel 37:12 (NIV)

I have mentioned in recent weeks that our local gathering of Jesus’ followers has been journeying through the book of Exodus and the story of God revealing Himself to Moses and leading the Hebrew people out of slavery in Egypt. It is the very beginning of God’s relationship with the Hebrew people as an entire people, a nation. I gave a message about it this past Sunday. FWIW: You can watch/listen here.

It was not a conscious decision to have our chapter-a-day journey trekking through Ezekiel at the same time, but I’ve been amazed at the parallels. Ezekiel is roughly 1,000 years after Exodus. They are two different stages of history, two different chapters of the Story. Yet the same theme weaves through them both and foreshadows what is yet to come.

Today’s chapter is one of the most iconic prophetic messages in the entire Great Story. If you didn’t actually read the chapter today, I encourage you to take two minutes (that’s all it will take) and read the first 14 verses of Ezekiel 37. It’s an apt passage to read the week of Halloween, by the way. Ezekiel is taken in the Spirit to a valley full of dry bones all across the valley floor. God has Zeke prophesy to the bones and the bones begin connecting themselves, tendons grow to hold them together then flesh grows on top and finally skin completes the bodily resurrection of the bones. God has Zeke prophesy once more and Life is breathed into them.

We have to remember that just a couple of chapters ago, Zeke and the Hebrews living in exile in Babylon got word that their nation was destroyed. Jerusalem was turned to rubble and burned. Solomon’s Temple was razed to the ground. What was left of their people were slaughtered or else they fled. Their hopes are dashed. Their souls are crushed. Their nation is dead. I can hear the wails of Zeke and his compatriots crying out to the Lord… just like a thousand years before:

The Israelites groaned in their slavery and cried out, and their cry for help because of their slavery went up to God. God heard their groaning and he remembered his covenant with Abraham, with Isaac and with Jacob. So God looked on the Israelites and was concerned about them.
Exodus 2:23b-25 (NIV)

The Hebrews were hopeless, crushed, and dead in their slavery. God brought ten plagues on Egypt that metaphorically deconstructed the seven days of creation in Genesis. Then, God leads them out of the death of slavery and begins to infuse new life and new ways of living.

Now the same people find themselves crying out a thousand years later. Once again, they are surrounded by death, hopelessness, and despair. The vision God gives Zeke is a repeat of the theme. “Amidst your death, despair, and hopelessness I am going to raise new life.”

Life –> Death –> New Life

God tells Zeke, “Then you, my people, will know that I am the Lord, when I open your graves and bring you up from them. I will put my Spirit in you and you will live…”

As a follower of Jesus, it is impossible not to see God pointing 500 years into the future and foreshadowing the exact thing Paul wrote to Jesus’ followers in Ephesus. Picture Zeke’s valley of dry bones as you read this:

“As for you, you were dead in your transgressions and sins, in which you used to live when you followed the ways of this world and of the ruler of the kingdom of the air, the spirit who is now at work in those who are disobedient. All of us also lived among them at one time, gratifying the cravings of our flesh and following its desires and thoughts. Like the rest, we were by nature deserving of wrath. But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved.”
Ephesians 2:1-5 (NIV) emphases added

Life –> Death –> New Life

In the quiet this morning, my heart is encouraged, lightened, and hopeful. In one week, our nation will have a Presidential election. On both sides of the aisle, people and pundits are prophesying the death of our nation, the demise of democracy, and the end of all things should the other side win. I have talked to people who are on the brink of despair because of their fear of the outcome. I personally think it’s all overblown fear-mongering that politics has always used to motivate people to action. Please refer to all of human history. But I am also reminded this morning that no matter what happens next Tuesday there is a theme that God has been revealing to humanity over and over and over again for thousands of years that dispels any of my fears. It is amidst death and despair and hopelessness that new life emerges.

Jesus said to [Martha], “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?”

Yes. Yes, I do.

Life –> Death –> New Life

This is the way.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Book Summary List, Wayfarer Podcast

Lamentations (Dec 2021)

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Each photo below corresponds to the chapter-a-day post for the book of Lamentations published by Tom Vander Well in December of 2021. Click on the photo linked to each chapter to read the post.

Lamentations 1: Blue Christmas

Lamentations 2: How I Should Grieve!

Lamentations 3: “Yet This I Call to Mind”

Lamentations 4: It Stinks to Be Right

Lamentations 5: A Different Spirit of the Season

Chapter-a-Day

“Yet This I Call to Mind”

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"Yet This I Call to Mind" (CaD Lam 3) – Wayfarer

Yet this I call to mind
    and therefore I have hope:
Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed,
    for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
    great is your faithfulness.
I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion;
    therefore I will wait for him.”
Lamentations 3:21-24 (NIV)

Jeremiah shows all the signs of being an Enneagram Type Four. The constant brooding. The wallowing in melancholy. The ability to wax eloquent and hyperbolic on his suffering and affliction. Of course, Jeremiah has far more reason than I to brood. When, in today’s poetic chapter, he states “I called on your name, Lord, from the depths of the pit” it wasn’t just hyperbole. In Jeremiah 38, his enemies literally threw the prophet into an empty well and left him to die in the muddy slime at the bottom.

And I think I’ve seen some bad days.

One of the things lost on most readers of Lamentations is the intricate way in which it is written. Each chapter is its own separate Hebrew poem. Each poem (chapter) is a Hebrew acrostic, meaning that every verse begins with a different letter in the Hebrew alphabet. Today’s chapter is the middle poem, and those who joined me for last year’s journey through the book of Psalms might remember that in Hebrew poetry, the very middle verse or stanza or poem tends to contain the central theme. The way that Jeremiah structured this cycle of poems, the first verse of today’s chapter is the central verse of the book:

I am the man who has seen affliction
    by the rod of the Lord’s wrath.

[cue: I Am a Man of Constant Sorrows by the Soggy Bottom Boys]

Yesterday, I wrote about the very human need to grieve, and the permission that God gives throughout the Great Story to do so. I believe it is healthy on all levels to process and express sorrow and grief, and God gives consistent permission to do so. Jesus even sweat blood as He expressed His despair at the suffering He was about to face on the final day of his earthly journey. Singing the blues is good for the soul.

Along the journey, however, I’ve also learned that there’s a point at which the healthy expression of my sorrow becomes an unhealthy victim status. Jeremiah didn’t die in the pit. Jesus didn’t stay in the grave. Choosing to mire myself in despair and refuse hope is to deny the very core of my faith.

Jeremiah quite obviously was a student of David’s lyrics in the Psalms. He follows David’s example both in shamelessly singing the blues, but also in finding the inflection point at which a ray of light shines in the darkness. There’s always that moment when the free-fall ends and the road begins to ascend. It’s the moment of eucatastrophe when the winds shift, the lighthouse appears on the horizon, and the seeds of hope bear fruit in the midst of despair. Jeremiah, writing from the depths of death, starvation, and devastation more extreme than David ever faces, makes the turn to hope more eloquently than David ever did:

Yet this I call to mind
    and therefore I have hope:
Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed,
    for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
    great is your faithfulness.
I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion;
    therefore I will wait for him.”

That’s the moment I seek in every dark valley of my journey. The moment that comes after I’ve cried a river of tears, screamed like King Lear and his fool into the winds of misfortune, written endless pages of guttural lament, and feasted on every angry growl of my blues collection. The moment when I lay spent from the rage and my soul can finally hear the whisper:

“Yet this I call to mind…”

Wait for it.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Chapter-a-Day

How I Should Grieve!

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How I Should Grieve! (CaD Lam 2) – Wayfarer

The hearts of the people
    cry out to the Lord.
You walls of Daughter Zion,
    let your tears flow like a river
    day and night;
give yourself no relief,
    your eyes no rest.
Lamentations 2:18 (NIV)

I have a friend who is experiencing pain in life that I can’t imagine. Every day is a torment. My friend has actually compared daily life to Sisyphus, who perpetually struggled to roll a boulder up the hill only to have the law of physics win every time. He would watch as the boulder rolled back down requiring him to start again, and again, and again.

My friend steadfastly refuses to talk much about it.

“I remember you telling me thirty years ago about these old farmers in the church where you interned that one summer,” my friend said to me. “How these old guys were so stoic they would refuse to go to the doctor or the hospital even though they were suffering and dying. I’ve always admired that.”

I don’t begrudge the sentiment. I’ve observed that human nature often leads one to do almost anything to avoid pain. This is especially true when that pain is perpetual. I might find ways to numb out and avoid it. I might distract my mind and soul with any number of things. I might, like the old farmers my friend admired, stoically stuff my pain and suffering down deep and stoically steel myself to silently endure. In each case, I’m still just avoiding what the Great Story states, quite directly multiple times in multiple ways: the path of spiritual progress in this life is in pain, trouble, trials, and suffering. Jeremiah’s amazing five poems of Lamentation might easily be presented as Exhibit A.

Here’s a little Jeopardy! trivia: The Hebrew title of the book of Lamentations is “How” (Hebrew: ‘êkâ), after the first word of the first line of chapters 1, 2, and 4. Here are the three lines in succession:

How deserted lies the city,
    once so full of people!
How the Lord has covered Daughter Zion
    with the cloud of his anger!
How the gold has lost its luster,
    the fine gold become dull!

There’s something I really love about that. It recognizes what I find to be exactly what I need when I’m suffering struggles on this life journey: to honestly, emotionally, and unashamedly express my thoughts and emotions in a healthy way. That’s exactly what Jeremiah’s five-poem volume, How, is all about.

How I should grieve!

Along my spiritual journey, I’ve found it interesting to observe so many people who have a base assumption that life should be free of trouble, and that when experiencing trouble one should deny it, avoid it, and pretend that everything is okay. On the contrary, my perpetual journey through the Great Story reminds me constantly to experience trouble head-on, to fully express sorrow, and to allow life’s troubles to do their spiritual work in me as I cling to hope in God’s promises and have faith that there are good things on the other side of the pain.

The Sage of Ecclesiastes said that there is a time and season to mourn and grieve on this journey just as there is a time and season to dance. I love the juxtaposition of those realities in one verse. It gives me permission (I might even say it commands me) to fully feel and express my grief, but it doesn’t allow me to sit in and wallow in victim status forever. Rather, it is in fully working through my grief that I make my way out of the valley and to the next mountain vista where I can just as fully dance on the summit. They are part of one another. My grieving gives fullness to the dancing. My dancing gives perspective to the grieving. I find that treating them as either-or experiences in life is spiritually anorexic. Experiencing their both-and interconnectedness is spiritually empowering.

In the quiet this morning, I’m reminded that there are times in this life when God gives me permission, even commands me to:

Cry out! Wail! Moan! Sing the blues!
Let my tears torrentially flow like a raging river.
Let it out around the clock.
Don’t stop until it’s done.

It’s through the free flow of my grief that God spiritually transports me to where He’s leading me.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Chapter-a-Day

Namaste God

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Namaste God (CaD Gen 16) – Wayfarer

[Hagar] gave this name to the Lord who spoke to her: “You are the God who sees me,” for she said, “I have now seen the One who sees me.”
Genesis 16:13 (NIV)

Our dear friend has a yoga studio in town. Wendy has actively been assisting our friend with her business. And so, I even attend a class now and then. Given the increased stiffening of the muscles and joints one experiences with age, I really should go more often. It is really good for my body.

One of the traditions of yoga is that of ending a class with the word “namaste.” The literal translation is “I bow to you” and it is a traditional, humble salutation used in greeting and parting. Many people speak of the word’s broader definition as “I see you,” or “The divine in me sees the divine in you” and I find the concept quite lovely.

Today’s chapter is downright Shakespearean when bookended with yesterday’s chapter. Yesterday’s chapter was about Abram’s simple belief of God’s promises being “credited to him as righteousness.” Of course, the promise God has made Abram from the very beginning was that His descendants would be as numerous as stars in the sky and the sand on the beach. Today’s chapter begins with the harsh reality of his wife Sara being old and childless. Sara, who is tired of waiting, tired of believing, and tired of trusting, takes matters into her own hands. She tells Abram to do what was very common in the culture of that day. She tells her husband to sleep with her servant, Hagar, and have a child by her so that he would have an heir. Abram goes along with it.

Sara and Abram’s act intersect with me and my own story on multiple levels. Along my journey I have had my own experiences with God’s promises given and the long-suffering required to see the promise fulfilled. The questions of “How long do I wait?” and “Should I be doing something to make this thing happen?” are very real. Abram and Sara’s impatience and exasperation resonate deeply with me.

And then, of course, there is the journey of infertility that Wendy and I walked together for many years (though much shorter than Abram and Sara). There are emotions, questions, and struggles that one experiences on the journey of infertility (for both a woman and a man) that are unlike anything else I’ve experienced in life. I’ve observed that those who have not experienced it are largely unaware of the intensity of the ordeal, and most are reluctant to even engage in an empathetic conversation about it. I get Sara and Abram’s desperation, and their desire to make this thing happen once and for all.

Then there is Hagar, who is the oft ignored victim of this desperate act. In all my years studying the Great Story, I regularly find Hagar to be regarded with either ignorance (e.g. she’s not considered at all) or subtle contempt (e.g. she’s viewed contemptuously as “the other woman”). In the quiet this morning, I couldn’t ignore her. Hagar was a slave. She had no choice in the matter. She suffered a gross injustice that was compounded by Sara’s antipathy and mistreatment, along with Abram’s indifference (e.g. “Do with her whatever you think best.”). Hagar flees the abusive situation. She’s homeless, penniless, defenseless, directionless, and pregnant.

Then God shows up.

God blesses Hagar. He gives Hagar a carbon-copy promise that He gave to Abram and Sara: “I will increase your descendants so much that they will be too numerous to count.” God comforts Hagar in her misery. God directs Hagar to return to Sara because sometimes in the Great Story one must face injustice rather than flee it in order for the larger Story to unfold.

Then Hagar says something amazing: “You are the God who sees me. I have seen the One who sees me.”

As I read these words this morning my soul whispered “Namaste.”

In the quiet this morning, I stand humbled and amazed at the lengths to which God regarded Hagar and the injustice done to her. God appears to this poor, pregnant slave girl in a way that He rarely appears to anyone. It echoes of Jesus’ regard for a poor, publicly shamed and naked woman caught in the act of adultery, and His regard for a half-breed, divorced and segregated Samaritan woman at the well.

“I see you.”

The God who sees Abram and Sara in the intense struggles of their infertility journey. The God who sees Hagar in the suffering of the injustices done to her. The God who sees me in both my joys and my long-sufferings. God sees me. Do I, like Hagar, see the God who sees me, or, like Sara and Abram, am I blinded by my doubts, fears, and frustrations?

And the Shakespearean story is about to unfold.

Two sons by different women.

Two numerous peoples, the countless descendants of Hagar and Sara.

Arabs and Hebrews.

Both peoples honoring Abraham as their father.

Read the headlines. The story continues to unfold to this day.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Chapter-a-Day

Holy Moment

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Holy Moment (CaD Psalm 145.2) – Wayfarer

[Note: I know I did Psalm 145 yesterday, but it became obvious to me this morning that I needed to spend some more time in it. So, consider this a blogging BOGO from me to you! :-)]

The eyes of all look to you,
    and you give them their food at the proper time.
Psalm 145:15 (NIV)

He was weeping over the phone. Across the miles, on the other end of the connection, I knew that this moment was qadosh, a holy moment. It was holy, not because of any kind of religious piety or righteous achievement, but because of the depth of its suffering.

Along my life journey I’ve observed that religion has done a number on our concept of holiness. The institutional church has, as it always does, warped holiness into some kind of religious merit badge, a litmus test of morality, a trophy for those religious over-achievers at the top of the Sunday School class. In doing so, religion profanes the fullness of holiness.

Holiness is woven into creation unbound by church membership or religious ritual. Holiness is an encounter with the divine in the human experience. Holiness is not limited to the transcendental, spiritual glory of Jesus’ transfiguration. The emotional, physical, mental, and spiritual agony of his unjust, illegal, blood-drenched execution was a holy moment, as well.

That’s how I recognized the holy moment as my friend wept from the darkness of his own personal pit. He was joining the ranks of many who have gone before him. He was the woman kneeling naked and ashamed in front of the Son of God as her adultery lay publicly exposed. He was the prodigal covered in pig shit and eating the slop of his own choices. He was the wanton woman knelt down before Jesus as her tears wash the feet of the One she fully expects to condemn him like everyone else is in his life seems to be doing. He was me, 20 years ago, as I wept alone in the darkness of a warehouse apartment crying out over the shattered pieces of my life.

I knew this was a holy moment because I had been there myself. This was a holy moment because every human and religious pretense had been stripped away. He was, in that moment, spiritually naked and empty. He had reached a point when he could no longer play the game. This was his breaking point before the One who redeems, recreates, and uses broken things; The Potter who takes the lump of collapsed clay spinning on His wheel and begins to make something new. Whether my friend recognized it, or not, this was the waypoint on his journey that is the inflection point when old things begin to recede in the rearview mirror, and he will find a light on the horizon leading him in a new direction.

Today’s chapter, Psalm 145, begins the last five songs in this 150 song anthology of ancient Hebrew song lyrics. The editors end their compilation with five songs of praise. Today’s is a beautiful description of God’s goodness and I could have picked out any number of verses to chew on, but it was the phrase “you give them their food at the proper time” that resonated deep in my soul.

Remember that God’s base language is metaphor, and metaphors are layered with meaning. Make no mistake, food is food, as in the miraculous Manna that God provided the Hebrew tribes on their wilderness wanderings and the loaves and fish Jesus turned into an all-you-can-eat, filet-o-fish-o-rama. It’s also that which is necessary for spiritual survival and sustenance, as Jesus reminded the Enemy after fasting for forty days: “You can’t just eat physical bread. You need the spiritual bread of the Word.”

From there the metaphor expands to even more layers of meaning:

“In the beginning was the Word…”

“I am the Bread of Life…”

“He took a loaf and broke it, saying, ‘This is my body, broken for you.'”

“I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats this bread will live forever. This bread is my flesh, which I will give for the life of the world.”

Along my spiritual journey, I’ve experienced God’s provision of “food” at the “proper time” on both the physical and spiritual level. I remember being married with two small children, my first mortgage, no job, and no idea what was going to happen next. There have been moments when clients unexpectedly pulled the plug on projects, and I wasn’t sure how we would pay the bills. Then there was that lonely night in the dark warehouse apartment when every religious facade I had mistaken for being an actual spiritual resource had been revealed to be impotent, and my soul was starving for a scrap of real spiritual nourishment.

I had religiously participated in the ritual of Communion countless times in my life, yet that moment was the first time I truly tasted the Bread of Life. It was a holy moment. It was qadosh.

In the quiet this morning, I’m praying for my friend who was on the other end of that call. He’s got a long, long road ahead of him. I did my best to assure him that if he relies on the Bread of Life to sustain him, and he doggedly presses on, one-day-at-a-time, towards that Light on the horizon, he will find himself in amazing places. He may find himself in a deep place, but grace is deeper still. He may despair in the moment at the waste he’d made of his life, but God may transform it into wisdom.

I’ve been there.

In the moment all he could see was the unholy ruins of his life.

Little did he know, it was the holy start of a new creation.

He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!” Then he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.”
Revelation 21:5 (NIV)

As always, if you know anyone who might be encouraged with today’s post, please feel free to share.

Chapter-a-Day, Wayfarer Podcast

Unseen Choices

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Unseen Choices (CaD Ps 71) – Wayfarer

As for me, I will always have hope;
    I will praise you more and more.
Psalm 71:14 (NIV)

I have observed on multiple occasions that 2020 has, thus far, been the most challenging year of my life journey. Over the weekend I found myself hitting the wall with it all. COVID, masks, lockdowns, racism, riots, name-calling, finger-pointing, posturing, politics, put-downs, elections, and egos. I came to the realization that I just don’t want to talk about it anymore, nor do I want to hear anybody talk about it. It seems, however, that it’s the only thing people can talk about right now. I get it. We all need to process.

In the quiet this morning, I began peeling away all of the circumstantial elements of our currently stressful times. I separated circumstance and spirit, elections and eternity, coronavirus, and Kingdom. Under the surface of all the Jesus said and did there was a conflict that broiled but remained unseen, a struggle of the spiritual.

Without conflict you don’t have a good story, and at the heart of the Great Story lies the ultimate conflict: The power of Life and that which sets itself up against it.

That which celebrates death instead of life.
That which perverts justice with power.
That which perverts appetite with lust.
That which perverts humility with pride.
That which perverts truth with deception.
That which seeks to tear down rather than build.
That which seeks to turn faith into fear.
That which seeks to turn hope into despair.
That which seeks to turn unity into division.
That which seeks to turn peace into conflict.
That which seeks to turn order into chaos.

In our chapter-a-day journey, we are coming to the end of “Book II” of the anthology of Hebrew song lyrics known as the Psalms. Thus far, almost every song in the 70 we’ve read was penned by David. We’re coming to the end of David’s journey. Today’s psalm was written near the end of his life.

If you’ve been sharing this chapter-a-day journey with me the past few months, it’s obvious that David’s life was not a cake-walk. David saw his share of death. He experienced injustice as well as the consequences of his own lust. He suffered through the pride, hatred, division, conflict, and despair of his own son who tried to steal his Kingdom away. He has faced constant fear from enemies both without and within who worked to tear him down. Now, as he feels his life slipping away there is growing chaos regarding who will ascend to throne after him.

David sang the blues a lot, and with good reason. I imagine David shaking his head at me this morning.

“Dude, you’ve had a rough year. I, like, had 2020 for a lifetime.”

It was with that perspective that I went back and read today’s chapter, Psalm 71, a second time.

Though you have made me see troubles,
    many and bitter,
    you will restore my life again;
from the depths of the earth
    you will again bring me up.

I couldn’t help but notice that David’s faith, hope, trust, and praise are not the result of his circumstances. They don’t spring from a cushy life on Easy Street. What became clear to me is that David is choosing them despite his circumstances, the same way he always has…

When he was on the run from Saul.
When he had a price on his head.
When he found himself alone in his enemy’s fortress.
When he was living in a cave in the wilderness.
When his own son raped his own daughter.
When his other son killed his own brother.
When that same son almost took his kingdom.
When he faced scandal from his adultery.
When his conspiracy to commit murder became public.

David’s lyrics, written across his life journey and making up roughly half of the Psalms, stand as testimony that time-and-time again he chose into praise, faith, hope, and trust when he had every reason to give in to the anger, fear, despair, and hopelessness.

In today’s song, the old man nears his journey’s end. He looks back at all he’s been through and everything he’s experienced. And this is the center verse, the lynch-pin of his song:

As for me, I will always have hope;
    I will praise you more and more.

I am reminded this morning that in the early chapters of the Great Story God said to His people, “Life or death. You choose.”

David teaches me that the choice is still there. Every day. Every year. A choice that, in the eternal perspective, is more consequential than my November vote for any politician.

As I enter this week of Thanksgiving, I choose Life. I choose hope.

Always.

As 2020 keeps punching, I choose to double-down on praise.