Tag Archives: Security

Transitions, Trees, and Promises

“But blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord,
    whose confidence is in him.
They will be like a tree planted by the water
    that sends out its roots by the stream.
It does not fear when heat comes;
    its leaves are always green.
It has no worries in a year of drought
    and never fails to bear fruit.”
Jeremiah 17:7-8 (NIV)

It seems as if Wendy and I have been in a season of perpetual transition for years now. Transitions in life as teenagers come and go, make their own way (and sometimes return for a time). Transitions in family. Transitions in life stages.  Transitions of houses. Transitions in roles and work. Perhaps I am slow to accept that stability is simply an illusion when Life is a constant flow and we are each steadily progressing on our respective life journeys. Yet, the desire for life to slow down and find some equilibrium doesn’t seem to fade within me.

In today’s chapter God speaks to Jeremiah and riffs on a word picture that had previously been channeled through the lyrics of the Psalm writer (Psalm 1):

Blessed is the one
    who does not walk in step with the wicked
or stand in the way that sinners take
    or sit in the company of mockers,
but whose delight is in the law of the Lord,
    and who meditates on his law day and night.
That person is like a tree planted by streams of water,
    which yields its fruit in season
and whose leaf does not wither—
    whatever they do prospers.

In Jeremiah’s case, I can’t help but think about all of the prophetic messages he’s thus far delivered in his prophetic poetry:

  • pack your bags
  • life as you know it will end
  • all you have known will be destroyed
  • enslavement
  • exile in a foreign land.

Talk about life transitions. It’s rather encouraging to consider my own tame life transitions in light of what Jeremiah and his tribe were staring down.

It’s interesting to find in today’s chapter that amidst all of God’s prophetic rants of punishment and justice for His people, He also provides promise. Along life’s journey I’ve found that the times of greatest fear, despair and anxiety have been when I have forgotten God’s promises during a time of intense life transition.

Life flows like a mighty river. It doesn’t stop. It ebbs at times and rages with floodwaters at others. I can’t control the flow of Life any more than I can control the weather. I can, however, control where I place my faith and confidence. Come drought or flood God’s promise is that if I place my faith and confidence in Him then my roots will go deep; I will find stability in turbulent waters and refreshment when Life’s flow dries up in a season of drought.

This morning in the quiet I’m thinking about all of the places that people, myself included, seek to find stability and security in the intense transitions created by the flow of Life. For me, sleepless nights always accompany such times. I find my anxieties and fears lessened, however, when I follow the advice of the Psalmist:

My eyes stay open through the watches of the night,
    that I may meditate on your promises.

Amidst transition, don’t forget God’s promises. Meditate on them.

The Illusion of Security

Alas for those who are at ease in Zion,
    and for those who feel secure on Mount Samaria….
Amos 6:1a (NRSV)

I have done a fair amount of business travel over the years. It’s interesting to fly in an out of different airports. I’ve been through virtually every major hub in the United States at one time or another, and I’ve also been to a host of tiny, remote airports with only a gate or two. Making your way through the lines of the Transportation Safety Administration (TSA) can be a very different experience from airport to airport.

Over the years I’ve had zealous TSA agents confiscate any number of small objects from my bags which had been ignored by TSA agents at an earlier airport. I just shake my head and let it go. Trying to pick a fight with a surly TSA agent is a losing proposition. At the same time, I have any number of sharp,  roller ball pens which would do real damage to a person’s jugular. As I’m making my way through the TSA line I often think of a scene in the movie Gross Pointe Blank in which John Cusack kills a guy with a cheap ballpoint pen. (I’m a bit hesitant to actually write that. I don’t want the TSA taking away a good pen!)

We talk a lot about the need for safety and security in society, and by all means we should do what we can to eliminate common dangers and threats. The truth is, however, that the idea of complete safety and security are illusions by-and-large. Those who are hell-bent on death and destruction find a way. They always have, and they always will. In recent months we’ve watched as killers who, seemingly unable to acquire guns and bombs, used trucks and vehicles to kill people in crowded streets.

In today’s chapter the ancient prophet Amos addresses those who are sitting in relative safety, security and ease around him. In their ease, luxury, and comfort they remain unaware of the problems surrounding them or the looming threats on the horizon. Amos prophetically warns them of death and destruction to come. It came about 15 years later when the Assyrians rolled over the northern kingdom of Israel. It came about 65 years later for the southern kingdom of Judah when the Babylonians came to town.

What Amos faults his people for in his prophetic poem is their casual disregard for what’s going on around them. They isolated and insulated themselves from the social, spiritual, and political problems of their day. They felt safe and secure, but it was an illusion that left them unprepared for what was coming.

Please don’t read what I’m not writing this morning. I’m all for doing what we can to ensure safety and security. I’m simply reminded this morning that no amount of security or safety measures can eliminate tragedy from striking. This morning I have an image playing in my head of Mad-Eye Moody in Harry Potter and Goblet of Fire demanding of his students “Constant vigilance!” Indeed. I cannot stop tragedy from striking in this fallen world, but I can remain open-eyed and vigilant.

When the Walls Come a Tumblin’ Down

[The travelers from Judah] replied, “The survivors there in the province who escaped captivity are in great trouble and shame; the wall of Jerusalem is broken down, and its gates have been destroyed by fire.”

When I heard these words I sat down and wept, and mourned for days, fasting and praying before the God of heaven.
Nehemiah 1:3-4 (NRSV)

In ancient days, a nations walls were everything. Every major city (which subsequently controlled the nearby lands) was surrounded by walls. Walls were your security, making it impossible for enemies to easily invade. Walls were your pride. Their height, width, and engineering told the world how prosperous, industrious, and educated you were. Your gates were your calling card. Being the weakest point of defense, your gate said everything about you. The more secure, enamored, and embellished the gate, the more your city state would be held in high esteem.

The book of Nehemiah is about the walls and the gate of the city of Jerusalem, which had been destroyed (along with Solomon’s temple) by the Babylonian empire in 587 B.C. Most of the nations best and brightest were carried off into captivity in Babylon. Ezra, Nehemiah and their families were among them. As the scene is established in the opening sequence of today’s chapter, Nehemiah runs into some travelers who had arrived in Babylon from back home. He inquires about the state of their homeland and capitol city, and learns that the walls and gates had been utterly destroyed. The remnant back home feel utter shame.

If you have no walls, you are nothing.

Nehemiah’s reaction to the news was telling. He is grief stricken. He weeps. He fasts. He prays and confesses to God his sins, the sins of his family, and the sins of his nation.

We don’t have literal walls surrounding our homes and capitols [Unless you live in a gated community…there’s a good conversation to be explored there. Trump’s promised border wall is another interesting parallel conversation, but I digress] Walls as a line of defense became obsolete hundreds of years ago. The word picture, however, still carries weight for me in my personal life. I still build walls, metaphorically, around my heart and life. I build walls of protection against forces spiritual, emotional, relational, and cultural. I erect walls of possessions and words revealing to others what I want them to see, while hiding safely that which I desire to hide. I engineer relational walls that warn people off, walls that keep people out, and gates of relationship that open and close at my will.

And, my walls can crumble and fall just like Jerusalem’s.

On my left bicep I have a tat that references Psalm 51. It is an ancient song of confession, the lyrics written by King David at a moment when the walls of Jerusalem stood tall and proud, but the walls of his personal life had come crashing to the ground. The gates to his soul lay in utter ruin. It is on my left bicep because the ancients identified left, and left-handedness (I’m a lefty, btw), with foolishness, iniquity, and sin. It is on my bicep because it is a reminder to me that my strength is not in the quality of the walls I build around myself, but in humility and the utter honesty of my confession.

Nehemiah is having a Psalm 51 moment. I have had my own (multiple times). Walls crash and burn. Life sometimes lays in ruin before us. I have learned along the journey that in those moments when life crumbles around me the key to finding seeds of redemption and restoration lie not in the strength of my biceps, but in the condition of my spirit. Nehemiah gets it, too.

Job’s Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

art by William Blake
art by William Blake

One day when Job’s sons and daughters were feasting and drinking wine at the oldest brother’s house, a messenger came to Job and said, “The oxen were plowing and the donkeys were grazing nearby, and the Sabeans attacked and made off with them. They put the servants to the sword, and I am the only one who has escaped to tell you!”

While he was still speaking, another messenger came and said, “The fire of God fell from the heavens and burned up the sheep and the servants, and I am the only one who has escaped to tell you!”

While he was still speaking, another messenger came and said, “The Chaldeans formed three raiding parties and swept down on your camels and made off with them. They put the servants to the sword, and I am the only one who has escaped to tell you!”

While he was still speaking, yet another messenger came and said, “Your sons and daughters were feasting and drinking wine at the oldest brother’s house, when suddenly a mighty wind swept in from the desert and struck the four corners of the house. It collapsed on them and they are dead, and I am the only one who has escaped to tell you!”

Last night Wendy and I attended a special healing service at our church. The theme of the service was healing our losses. It was about facing those griefs that have us mired on life’s road, about processing them so we can spiritually move forward. There was a large crowd on hand, and a good portion of the night was spent in quiet worship. There were stations set up around the perimeter of the room for people to receive communion, prayer, holy water, or to symbolically surrender their losses. Wendy and I have both had our share of losses in life, and it was good to meditate, reflect, and have some personal conversations with God about those things.

What struck me most last night, however, was the tremendous compassion I felt for others. I was surprised how many people I knew. I was also surprised at the pieces of their stories I knew. The abused who became an abuser and whose life fell completely apart. The person who lost a spouse. The  person whose marriage ended in terrible pain and whose life is out of control. The person with incurable disease that is wreaking havoc on the home front. On, and on, and on. My heart broke for friends and acquaintances. My own whining and petty complaints were silenced in relation to the pain I saw realized in the lives of others.

Job seemed an appropriate book to start this morning. I was struck by Job’s terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. We all fear getting “the call” telling us tragedy has struck, but Job gets four of them in rapid fire succession. Assets gone, employees gone, business gone, children gone. We all have our share of pain in this journey, but I imagine that precious few of us know the sheer terror of losing everything we own, and nearly everyone we hold dear in a matter of minutes.

Psalm 112 is a psalm that I’ve internalized as a foundational text for my life journey. It describes the kind of person I desire to be, and I found myself reciting it over and over in my heart last night at the service. It came to me again this morning as I read of Job’s unforeseen calamity:

“He has no fear of bad news,
His heart is steadfast, trusting in the Lord.
His heart is secure, he will have no fear.
In the end he will look in triumph at his foes.”

I am going to have my share of tragedy in this journey. It’s inevitable. Worrying about it, fearing its arrival, and being anxious about what dark tidings the future may bring do nothing to make this day worthwhile. In fact, I’ve come to realize that the unholy trinity of worry, fear, and anxiety serve only to suck the life out of me and keep me from living this day fully and abundantly.

Today, I’m thinking and praying about those who are suffering tragedies and losses in life that I can scarcely imagine. At the same time, I’m trusting God with today, tomorrow, and each day of my journey so that I can be free to live this day fully. I will have my own share of grief and loss along the way, but I will also have God’s grace and provision in the moment(s) that I need them.

Quiet Sentinel

English: View of Pikes Peak from the Universit...
View of Pikes Peak from the University of Colorado at Colorado Springs. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

As the mountains surround Jerusalem,
    so the Lord surrounds his people
    both now and forevermore.
Psalm 125:2 (NIV)

I find it fascinating that both of our daughters have lived in Colorado Springs, Colorado. Taylor lived on the YWAM base there for a few months in preparation for a missionary stint in Morocco. Madison moved there to attend a one year program in worship and decided to stay when the year was over. And so, we find ourselves making the 11 hour trek to visit “the Springs” which sits nestled a the feet of the Rocky Mountains.

I once asked Madison what she liked about living in Colorado Springs. “I sit in class and look out the window at Pike’s Peak,” she replied. Enough said. If it’s mountain views you wish to see every day, then Iowa is definitely not going to do it for you.

I thought of Maddy Kate this morning as I read the above lyric from today’s psalm. Having spent a little bit of time in Colorado visiting, I do understand the sense of wonder instilled in a person when your visual landscape is surrounded by the majesty of the mountains. What a word picture for the spiritual reality of being surrounded by God’s majestic strength and security.

Today, I’m thinking about security that has nothing to do with alarms, firearms, dead bolts, or financial reserves. There is a spiritual security that stands as quiet a sentinel as the mountains. Sometimes, it’s good to be surrounded.

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Chapter-a-Day 2 Chronicles 25

But Amaziah said to the holy man, “But what about all this money— these tons of silver I have already paid out to hire these men?”

“God’s help is worth far more to you than that,” said the holy man. 2 Chronicles 25:9 (MSG)

Over the past year I have observed a man who has a lot of money, but has very little peace. He appears to, materially, have everything he could possibly want; he seems to be void of what he spiritually needs. His portfolio must be in great shape; his family is in ruins.

I thought of this man as I read Amaziah’s story. The holy man’s message was really quiet simple. Don’t look for security in what you possess or own. Don’t trust in riches. It is a false sense of security. Don’t ask your bank account for that which only God can provide.

Today, I’m thinking about the areas of my own life where I place misdirected trust.

Lord, have mercy on me.

Creative Commons photo courtesy of Flickr and tobanblack

Chapter-a-Day 2 Chronicles 3

The right pillar he named Jakin (Security) and the left pillar he named Boaz (Stability). 2 Chronicles 3:17 (MSG)

As I read the description of Solomon’s temple with all of its ornate construction filled with precious metals, I can’t help but remember that God created a new paradigm with the death and resurrection of his Son, Jesus. No longer would he dwell in a temple made of woood and metal, but in the hearts of those who believe. “Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God?” 1 Corinthians 6:19 (NIV).

If my body is a temple of the God of creation, then how precious it is. I read today’s chapter, I read of the two giant pillars named “security” and “stability” and I think of the pillars in my own life. I not only think of God, who is my rock and fortress, but also of my parents, my grandparents, my wife, my family, my mentors, and my dearest friends. My temple stands fast with strong and faithful pillars. Without them, my life would have completely fallen apart long ago.

Today, I’m thankful for those in my life on whom I can and do depend; grateful for the pillars of this temple I can aptly name “safety” and “security.”

Creative Commons photo courtesy of Flickr and J.W. Photography