Tag Archives: Jeremiah 29

Oh! The Places You’ll Go!

Oh! The Places You'll Go! (CaD Jer 29) Wayfarer

This is what the Lord says: “When seventy years are completed for Babylon, I will come to you and fulfill my good promise to bring you back to this place.”
Jeremiah 29:10 (NIV)

It is mid-May. Yesterday was Mother’s Day. I believe that Mother’s Day weekend is the most popular weekend for colleges and universities to hold their graduation commencements. Social media was wall-to-wall young people in their caps and gowns this weekend. And, we’re not even close to being done. The coming weekends will be chock full of high school commencements, and there are exponentially more school graduates than college graduates. Punch bowls are getting pulled out of storage. White sheet cakes are being made en masse. Millions of greeting cards are being sold.

On Saturday morning, Wendy and I made a trip to her family’s gathering. She played for me a commencement address by writer and humorist, David Sedaris, who was receiving an honorary degree from a university. We laughed all the way to her parent’s house. It was a humorous take on the genre of speeches that millions of graduates will hear this month. Young people full of hope and optimism preparing to launch on their respective life paths with a fresh copy of Dr. Seuss’ Oh the Places You’ll Go tucked under their arm. That’s another thing you can plan on every May: the return of Dr. Seuss to the summit of the New York Times’ bestseller list.

I can guarantee you that a good percentage of graduates will receive at least one card of congratulations with a verse from today’s chapter. It’s the verse after the verse I quoted at the top of the post/podcast:

“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.”

This is a verse that is tailor made for a graduation card, a calendar, a daily planner, a personal journal, a wall plaque, or any number of gifts and trinkets. Somewhere, I’m sure there’s a well-worn frisbee with that verse inspiring the dog who’s retrieving it for millionth time.

But here’s the thing…

Jeremiah’s words were not intended for young people crossing an educational finish line with a lifetime of hope and opportunity ahead of them. His words were addressed to a people who’d been ripped from their homes, bound (some were likely even been led with a ring through their nose), and drug hundreds of miles to a foreign land. Among them was a young man named Daniel, who certainly would have read Jeremiah’s words from today’s chapter. He was among those for whom they were intended. Daniel may have been the age of many people graduating this month when Jeremiah’s letter arrived, but “Oh! The places you’ll go!” in his young aspirations did not include the city of Babylon in the service of a mad-king. Yet, that’s where he found himself looking at enrollment in the school of hard-knocks and a lifetime of servitude. Jeremiah’s letter promised Daniel and his fellow exiles redemption and return in seventy years. Imagine how that promise sank in. Daniel knew the odds were against him being among those returning. Subsequent generations would enjoy that promise. He was looking at a life-sentence of exile.

And, in the quiet this morning, I can’t help but think that this contrasting reality is perhaps a more honest and truthful message for any graduate who is a follower of Jesus to hear in preparation for the rest of their life journey. It’s certainly more sobering, and not as entertaining as the words of David Sedaris that Wendy and I listened to this weekend. My life journey as a disciple of Jesus has confirmed for me the truth of Jeremiah’s promise. God does have a plan and purpose for me. But, the plans and purpose God has for me are ultimately not about my earthly success or my prosperity, security, safety, or comfort, though all of those things may certainly be experienced along the way. Rather, God’s purpose and plans are about my life of exile and captivity in a temporal, fallen world. They are about my spiritual maturity, my obedience to the One whom I follow, and my increasing measure of sacrificial love and generosity to others all the days of my exile. The purpose, I’ve discovered, is really about my bit part in a story that is ultimately not about me.

I doubt many graduates will hear this. Oh, the places we want to go don’t include the failures, difficulties, setbacks, losses, mistakes, broken dreams, divorce decrees, terminal illnesses, tragic deaths, or the painful consequences of our own poor choices. Nevertheless, those are the requisite pathways to the plans and purposes God has for His children like Daniel, like me.

Of course, like the false prophets that Jeremiah addresses in today’s chapter, there are far more popular messages to echo that are far more enjoyable to hear by mass audiences.

“Wear sunscreen,” for example.

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

“Every Little Thing Is Gonna Be Alright”

“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.”
Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV)

Thirteen years ago today I was living in a personal exile of sorts. I was in the process of a divorce that I had once promised myself would never happen. Rumors were flying, most all of them untrue. I had become a social pariah among many whom I’d once considered friends. I remember at the time clinging to the fidelity of a few individuals who “had my back” along with a word picture of living each day like a turtle. I stayed within my self-protective shell and continued to press forward, slow and steady. Not only did I firmly believe that God had not abandoned me, but I had faith that there were redemptive purposes God has planned for me on the other side of this difficult stretch of my life journey.

Jeremiah 29:11 (pasted at the top of this post) is one of the most optimistic, Pinterest-worthy verses from the entirety of God’s Message (see the featured image, a screen shot from Pinterest). Yet those who quote this verse and post it probably have little or no understanding of the context from which it was originally penned.

Jerusalem is in ruins. Solomon’s Temple, once one of the wonders of the ancient world, is reduced to rubble. The treasures of Jerusalem have been plundered by the Babylonian army. The best and brightest of Jerusalem’s people (artists, artisans, musicians, writers, thinkers, teachers, politicians, prophets, and priests) have been chained and led back to Babylon to serve King Nebuchadnezzar and ensure that no one is left in Jerusalem to mount a revolt against him.

As you can imagine, those forced into servitude in Babylon are anxious and fearful. They find themselves in a strange land among a strange people with different culture, history, philosophy, and religion. Nothing is familiar. Nothing is safe. Nothing is sure. They just want to go home. Life in exile is filled with constant uncertainty.

Jeremiah, meanwhile, had been left behind. So the ancient prophet writes a letter from the rubble of Jerusalem to all of the exiles in Babylon. Compared to the doom, gloom and dystopian vision he’s always painted in his prophesies, his letter reads like a wise grandfather telling his grandchildren not to worry. He assures them God has not abandoned them. It’s all going to be alright. It is in this letter that Jeremiah pens the famous verse. While things may look dark and hopeless in Babylonian exile, God has a plan and a purpose for their good, and for their future.

I’ve come to understand that along life’s journey I will face personal periods of wandering, treks through wilderness, and/or stretches of personal exile. In wilderness, in exile is where I always meet Lady Wisdom. In hindsight I can see that she called out to me from the security and comfort of home, but I refused to listen. It is in exile I find her. It is in the wilderness, stripped bare of the illusions of my securities, that the ears of my heart are open to what she has to say. Her lessons are essential to God’s ultimate plans and purpose for me.

This morning happens to be my birthday. It’s the 52nd anniversary of the beginning of my life journey. This morning in the quiet I am thinking back to thirteen years ago when I woke up in a strange place of personal exile. What a different place on life’s road I find myself this morning. God’s plans and purposes are continually being revealed. I’m grateful for the things Lady Wisdom had to teach me back then.

One of the theme songs of Wendy’s and my life journey together is flitting through my head this morning. It’s a riff on Jeremiah’s encouraging letter to all those in exile from brother Marley:

Don’t worry about a thing,
’cause every little thing is gonna be alright.”

Chapter-a-Day Jeremiah 29

“I know what I’m doing. I have it all planned out—plans to take care of you, not abandon you, plans to give you the future you hope for. When you call on me, when you come and pray to me, I’ll listen. When you come looking for me, you’ll find me. Yes, when you get serious about finding me and want it more than anything else, I’ll make sure you won’t be disappointed.” Jeremiah 29:11-12 (MSG)

When I was a little child, my parents would tell me to get in the car. I didn’t know where we were going. I didn’t know the names of the streets, the layout of the city, or how to read a map. I would get in the car. Maybe I was going with dad to get a haircut. Maybe we were going to the grocery store. Maybe I’d end up at the doctor to get an immunization shot, or perhaps I’d find myself at Grandma and Grandpa’s house.

“Tommy? Get in the car,” my mother would say.

“Come on, biddy buddy. It’s time to go,” my dad would beckon.

I didn’t know where I would end up, but I didn’t really question my parents. I knew I was loved. I couldn’t fathom the plans my parents had for me on that Saturday morning errand or how it fit in the longer range vision they had for my childhood or adolesence. But they had a plan and they loved me. I trusted.

To this day, I don’t always fathom where my heavenly Father is taking me. I can’t always perceive his plan, or how my momentary circumstances fit into the larger picture. But, I know he loves me, that He wants the best for me. I trust him.

“Come on, Tom. This way. It’s time.”

“Alright, daddy. I’m coming.”

Creative Commons photo courtesy of Flickr and dacotahsgirl