Tag Archives: Wilderness

Golf Dream

Golf Dream (CaD Dan 7) Wayfarer

In the first year of Belshazzar king of Babylon, Daniel had a dream, and visions passed through his mind as he was lying in bed. He wrote down the substance of his dream.
Daniel 7:1 (NIV)

The other day I had an unusual experience. All night long I had strange and vivid dreams. Most of them were the typical mish-mash of things both silly, non-sensical, and strange. I woke up, however, remembering one vivid dream about me and an old friend going golfing. This is funny because I’m not a golfer, though I remember playing a few holes with him once. That was over thirty years ago.

I remember from my dream that we were standing in line in the clubhouse waiting for our tee time. It was a busy course. There were others in our group, but I didn’t know them. The tee box for the first hole was literally right outside the clubhouse door in a sort of vestibule with the exterior walls of the clubhouse on either side of the tee box extending and creating a kind of alleyway. The fairway went about ten yards in front of the tee and then did a severe ninety-degree dog leg around the corner of the clubhouse.

What was funny about this is that if I try to hit a golf ball straight, it would probably shank at just that 90-degree angle (which is why I’m not a golfer) but I could never in a million years do that on purpose, and in my dream, I knew this. I was perplexed about how to proceed and considered using my putter off the tee to get the ball past the clubhouse wall and effectively lay up for my second shot. I can remember thinking in my dream what a terrible golfer I must be to have to use my putter off the tee.

For some reason, this dream stuck with me that day and it came to mind as I was getting ready for bed. I hadn’t talked to my friend in a long time, so I texted him out of the blue that evening. I didn’t expect him to reply immediately:

Okay, that was wild. Was there anything spiritual about it, or was it just a coincidence? Here’s where my thoughts on the prophetic provide me with guidance. I won’t dismiss it outright, and I won’t obsess about it. I do believe that everything is connected. I will hold on loosely and enjoy the wonder that my spirit, and/or Holy Spirit, seemed to somehow connect that a dear friend was celebrating a big waypoint on life’s road that day (and that I should have been with him at Pebble Beach that day!!! 😂😂😂).

Today’s chapter represents a huge shift in the book of Daniel. So far, it’s been a string of really incredible stories. From here on out, it becomes largely a record of prophetic dreams and visions. The dream in today’s chapter describes four strange beasts that are metaphors for the successive empires that will rule the Near East in the coming centuries: Neo-Babylonian, Medo-Persian, Greek, and Roman. Daniel’s dream ends with a vision of “the son of man” (a title Jesus used of Himself) who will establish a kingdom of “all nations and peoples” with dominion that will be eternal.

It is not unusual for the prophetic to be “layered” with meaning. While it certainly points to the coming of the Messiah, the second half of today’s chapter is also regularly connected by scholars to the visions of the end times in the book of Revelation.

As I contemplated the prophetic and the dreams in today’s chapter, my thoughts led me to consider that God was particularly active in delivering miracles, dreams, and visions during this period of the Babylonian exile. That’s one of the themes across the Great Story. There are seasons and periods of time in which the miraculous and the prophetic are plentiful. Then there are seasons and periods of time in which they are rare. I find it fascinating that the seasons of plenty tend to coincide with periods of struggle. The time of Moses came in enslavement and wilderness wanderings. This period of the stories of Daniel and Esther happens during captivity and exile. Jesus’ arrival on the scene and the subsequent Jesus Movement happen as Daniel’s dream predicts, amidst Roman occupation and then persecution.

So I have found it to be in my own spiritual journey. It is in times of struggle, tragedy, wilderness, and exile that the work of God’s Spirit becomes more active and acute. Perhaps it’s because I’m spiritually more needy, focused, and open during these seasons. Perhaps it’s because God knows that I need more encouragement and a reminder of His provision and presence as I traverse the dark valleys on life’s road. Perhaps it’s a combination of both. Either way, there’s wisdom in embracing the reality that I will experience both types of seasons in my story, just as both types of seasons are present across the Great Story.

And, happy birthday to my friend, Matt. I hope Pebble Beach was a blast. It’s probably good I wasn’t there. Me putting off the tee would have only been an embarrassment.

Featured Image created with Wonder AI

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

Into the Wilderness

Into the Wilderness (CaD 2 Ki 25) Wayfarer

So Judah went into captivity, away from her land.
2 Kings 25:21b (NIV)

Many years ago, I found myself in circumstances I could never have imagined. I found myself in the middle of a divorce and living in a new community. My world had suddenly turned upside down and inside out. It was a scary, tenuous, anxious, humbling, and stressful season of life.

Along this life journey, almost everyone experiences a period of wilderness. Life as we know it experiences a tectonic shift. Things get turned upside down and inside out. Wilderness could be brought on by unforeseen tragedy, the death of a loved one, war, natural disaster, divorce, loss of a job, financial loss, conflict, illness, or any number of similar life-changing events.

The psychologist Carl Jung and the scholar Joseph Cambell did a lot of work in the 20th century studying and revealing the archetypes and patterns in the epic stories of humanity. Our greatest stories reflect the core of our human experience. They resonate with us because there is something in the story that connects deeply with our human experience. I would submit that the patterns and archetypes are found in our stories because they are found in our lives.

Wilderness is one of these common themes. Here are the first five steps of the hero’s wilderness journey as Jung and Campbell outline it:

  1. The hero’s journey starts in the Ordinary World. The hero—male or female—is “stuck,” but he or she senses some powerful, tectonic energy moving beneath the surface.
  2. The hero receives a “call.” This may be positive—an invitation to climb Annapurna—or negative … we’re arrested and thrown in jail. Or, like Odysseus, the hero commits a crime against heaven and is “made to” undergo an ordeal of expiation. But one way or another, you and I are ejected from Normal Life and flung, willy-nilly, into Something Totally New.
  3. The hero “crosses the threshold.” She moves from the Ordinary World to the Extraordinary World (also known as the Inverted World.) Like the children in The Chronicles of Narnia, we pass through a portal and enter a realm unlike any we have known.
  4. The hero encounters allies and enemies, undergoes challenges and heartbreaks, temptations and overthrows. The hero suffers. The hero loses her way. The hero has been caught up in an often hellish adventure (though with some good moments too), from which no escape seems possible. The stakes are clearly life and death.
  5. The hero perseveres. Reckoning that there’s no turning back, the hero pushes on, often blindly, almost always wracked by despair and self-doubt, seeking he or she knows not what. Escape? Redemption? A conclusion of some kind to this crazy, upside-down enterprise?

It may be lost on modern American readers, but today’s chapter is one of the most life-changing historical events in the history of the Hebrew people. The Babylonian siege of Jerusalem was a violent, horrific event. Jeremiah, who lived through it, poetically describes the carnage in the five short chapters of Lamentations. The entire nation, the King and the priests, are taken into captivity and exile in Babylon. Among the exiles were the prophet Ezekiel and a young man named Daniel. Their stories, respectively, are rooted in their experiences in the Babylonian wilderness, along with the story of Esther.

The wilderness, Jung and Campbell explain, always has a purpose in making the hero the hero. It is in the wilderness the hero faces the darkness, the villain, their own fear, and/or seemingly insurmountable odds. It is in the wilderness that the hero experiences an “all is lost” moment, and it is in the wilderness that the hero eventually experiences an important epiphany and is ultimately led back home, a different person with a “gift.” Judah’s return from wilderness and exile is told in the books of Nehemiah and Ezra.

In the quiet this morning, God’s Spirit has brought to mind people I know who are experiencing seasons of wilderness in their own life journeys. I look back on my own season of wilderness and I can see the things I had to face, the lessons God had for me in it, and what a positive difference it ultimately made in my life and my spiritual journey. If I could write a letter to my past self in the midst of that wilderness, I would tell my struggling self to trust the story God is authoring in my story, to persevere one step at a time, and to know that good things, redemptive things, lie ahead.

My seasons of wilderness have taught me that God is more interested in developing my character than in facilitating my comfort.

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

Lost and Found

[King Josiah] stood by the pillar and renewed the covenant in the presence of the Lord—to follow the Lord and keep his commands, statutes and decrees with all his heart and all his soul, thus confirming the words of the covenant written in this book. Then all the people pledged themselves to the covenant.
2 Kings 23:3 (NIV)

One of the common themes of all great stories is when the hero loses his or her way. We see it in Luke Skywalker in Star Wars Episode VIII as he has chosen self-exile. Ron Weasley similarly chooses out in the Deathly Hallows. Edmund loses his way and follows the White Witch in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. In The Hobbit, it is Bilbo who loses his way in the Misty Mountains where he happens to find a plain-looking golden ring in the darkness. Despite his insistence that he would never fall away, Peter denies that he knows Jesus three times.

Along my spiritual journey, I have come to embrace that losing one’s way is a common theme for a lot of us. As I look back on my own life journey, I can humbly point back to a period of time I call “the dark years,” in which I lost my way and made many regrettable choices.

In the Great Story told between Genesis and Revelation the theme of losing one’s way is recurring. From the Hebrew tribes “wandering in the wilderness” for 40 years to the exile of Israel and Judah in Assyria and Babylon to Jesus’ parable of the Prodigal Son, the tale of losing one’s way is a familiar one.

In today’s chapter, King Josiah reads the recently discovered Books of Moses to his people. We have no idea how long it had been since the story of Moses delivering the Hebrews from slavery in Egypt and God establishing a covenant with them had been read. It says in today’s chapter that the annual Passover Feast prescribed by God had not been celebrated “neither in the days of the judges who led Israel nor in the days of the kings of Israel and the kings of Judah.” That’s somewhere in the neighborhood of 800 years.

Today’s chapter is essentially about coming home, the Prodigal’s return, and the hero finding his or her way back to the path. Luke shows up to deliver the rebel forces in stunning form. Ron returns just in time to save Harry. Edmund is redeemed and restored by Aslan. Bilbo finds his way back to Thorin and Company with the ring that will help him facilitate the overthrow of Smaug. Jesus restores Peter on the shore of Galilee with three affirmations of his calling. Josiah leads the nation in renewing their covenant with the God who delivered and established them.

In the quiet this morning, I’m reminded that losing one’s way is a very common story. Jesus told stories about lost coins and lost sheep as well as a lost child. The stories are ultimately not about being lost, but about being found. The Shepherd risks the entire flock to search for the lost sheep until it’s found. The Prodigal’s father waits patiently and expectantly on the porch to catch sight of his child’s return. The found book helps Josiah and God’s people to find their way back to God.

I once was lost, but now I’m found.

For the spiritual pilgrim, there’s both encouragement and hope in the revelation that God expectantly desires that I find my way back to Him.

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

The Song and the Story

The Song and the Story (CaD Ps 136) Wayfarer

to him who led his people through the wilderness;
His love endures forever.
Psalm 136:16 (NIV)

Psalm 136 is one of the most fascinating of all the songs in the anthology of ancient Hebrew song lyrics we all the book of Psalms. The ancient Hebrew songwriter crafted it in such a way that the the meaning and metaphor of the lyrics are as much in the structure as they are in the words. First, there’s the organization of the the theme:

  • Six verses about creation
  • Six verses about the Hebrews deliverance from slavery
  • One verse about the Hebrews being led through the wilderness
  • Six verses about the Hebrews conquest of Canaan
  • Four verses that echo/summarize the previous themes
  • A final call to praise God

There is no other psalm in the anthology of ancient Hebrew song lyrics that utilizes the call and response device as this song does. Twenty-six times the refrain “His love endures forever” is used. That number is important because for the ancient Hebrews, the letters of their alphabet also did double-duty as numerals. Every letter was used as a number. When you add up the numerical values of the letters of the Hebrew name for God: YHWH (Note: the Hebrew alphabet doesn’t have vowels) the total is, you guessed it, 26.

As I thought about the structure of the song, I couldn’t help but think that it parallels every life story, my life story.

I have a creation story. There’s the time in which I was born, the family in which I was raised, the community of my childhood, and the events that set me on my path in life.

Like the Hebrew exodus from slavery, I have climactic events that shape and define my life journey. My decision to follow Christ and subsequent call to proclaim His message, my being cast in a film and meeting the mentor who would play an instrumental part in my life, my early marriage, the births of Taylor and Madison, the divorce that would end my first marriage after seventeen years, and the unexpected arrival of Wendy in my life.

Like the Hebrew wilderness experience, I have my own stretch of life’s road in which I wandered in the wilderness of my own choosing. I chose the path of the prodigal. I ran. I squandered. I was unfaithful to those I loved most. I had my own pig-slop “Aha!” moment. I had to find my way back.

Like the Hebrew conquest, I have my own slate of victories in life. I have accomplishments, awards, and successes.

And, through it all, God’s faithful, enduring love is woven through every major success and every tragic failure. His love is woven through my best moments and my worst. In his letter to the followers of Jesus in Corinth, Paul wrote that at the end of the Great Story that contains all stories, including mine, there are three things that remain: faith, hope, and love. he adds, “The greatest of these is love.”

In the quiet this morning, as I look back at my own story, I am realizing just how much God’s love shows up like the repeated refrain of Psalm 136. I am also reminded that like the 26 love refrains the song writer metaphorically employed to point me to God, Yahweh, I am pointed to a God who is love incarnate, which is the destination and goal of my entire story and life journey through this world. If I’m not growing into love in increasing measure as Jesus defined it, then I am (perhaps even with the best of intentions) headed in the wrong direction.

Exilic Reflections

Exilic Reflections (CaD Ps 107) Wayfarer

Then they cried out to the Lord in their trouble,
    and he delivered them from their distress.

Psalm 107:6 (NIV)

As I’ve been mulling over the spiritual milestones I’ve shared about recently, I have been looking back at my life journey of 20,000+ days and my spiritual journey of 40 years. There have been some amazing moments, some stretches of prosperity on multiple levels, and then there have been some seasons of soul-stretching adversity. As I recount the peaks and valleys and where they’ve brought me, it occurs to me that the latter has been more critical in my spiritual growth. And, very often the former follows. The valleys of life prune me spiritually, and when I eventually reach the high places they are particularly fruitful.

“Exile” is one of the grand themes of the Great Story. Some scholars have gone so far as to say that it is the primary theme that occurs over and over again, beginning with Adam and Eve being exiled from the Garden and their intimate relationship with the Creator. The Hebrews living in bondage and exile in Egypt, then later being exiled and scattered by the Babylonian and Assyrian empires. The crux of the Great Story is Jesus leaving heaven to be exiled here as one of us to make a way for us to escape our own earthly exile and be at home in eternity. And, that’s just the tip of the iceberg. Exile is a theme in the stories of Noah, Abraham, Jacob, Joseph, Moses, David, Ruth, Esther, Daniel, Nehemiah, Mary, Joseph, John the Baptist, Jesus, John, and Paul.

All good stories are a reflection of the Great Story, and I typically find the theme of exile in every major human epic.

Today’s chapter, Psalm 107, kicks off the fifth and final “Book” of Hebrew Song lyrics we know as the Psalms. Psalm 107 is another liturgical song, most likely written to be sung during one of the Hebrew religious festivals. Most scholars agree that it was penned during the period of time when the Hebrews returned from Babylonian exile, rebuilt Jerusalem and God’s temple there. Having come through years of captivity and exile, they have ascended Mount Zion to worship, reflect on their experiences, and give thanks.

The song lyrics introduce different exilic experiences: wandering in the desert, living in darkness, struggling through captivity and forced labor, bitter consequences of foolish choices, sickness and disease, and being lost and rudderless on the stormy seas. In each of the stanzas the description of exilic struggle leads to the phrase: “Then they cried out to the Lord in their trouble.” This is followed by God’s salvation, deliverance, redemption, and restoration. Each stanza ends calling the listener to gratitude and praise.

In the quiet this morning, I’m seeing the pattern. Out of darkness into the light. Up from the valley to the mountaintop. Return from exilic adversity to the blessing of finding myself safe at home. This is the Great Story. It’s life’s story. It’s my story, too.

As I meditate on the lyrics of Psalm 107 and look back on my journey, I’m reminded that there is purpose in the painful stretches. Perseverance has always paid off. I have always been able to cry out to the Lord in my troubles. There have always been better stretches ahead.

Note: A new message has been posted to my Messages Page.

Called to the Quiet

Called to the Quiet (CaD Ex 24) Wayfarer

Moses entered the cloud, and went up on the mountain. Moses was on the mountain for forty days and forty nights.
Exodus 24:18 (NRSVCE)

A few weeks ago I made an impromptu road trip. It was a particularly stressful time, and I told a few friends that the road trip was my way of doing what Jesus did on occasion when He went up a mountain alone to pray. I chose to sequester myself in the car.

As I read today’s chapter I found a number of elements that foreshadowed Jesus’ story. Jesus, like Moses, spent a period of forty days and nights in the wilderness. In today’s chapter, Moses is the mediator between God and the people. Moses offers the blood sacrifice, the blood covers the people, and Moses then ascends to God. Jesus was the blood sacrifice which atones for sin before He rose and ascended. When Jesus went up on a mountain with Peter, James, and John and was transfigured in glory, Moses appeared there at Jesus’ side. The events of today’s chapter are an example of how the ancient Hebrew stories are linked to Jesus. It’s all part of the Great Story.

What my mind and heart came back to in the text, however, was the time that Moses spent with God on the mountain. Forty is also a theme beyond the link to Jesus time in the wilderness:

  • The rain in Noah’s flood lasted forty days and nights.
  • Joshua and Caleb spent forty days spying out the Promised Land.
  • Goliath taunted Israel’s army for 40 days before David stepped up with his sling.
  • God told Ezekiel to lay on his side for 40 days as part of a prophetic word picture.
  • Jonah prophesied to Nineveh that they had 40 days to repent.
  • The seasons of Advent (celebrating the birth of Christ) and Lent (celebrating the death and resurrection of Christ) are both 40 days.

I am reminded in the quiet this morning that this world is moving faster, and faster, and faster as the memory and processing speed of our technology and devices continues to advance more rapidly. According to Google, their quantum computer (known as “Sycamore”) recently completed a computation in 200 seconds which would take the next fastest supercomputer 10,000 years to complete. The speed of life and technology continues to increase and with it my expectations for results.

The irony is that God’s Kingdom runs opposite the world. Things of the Spirit require time, contemplation, meditation, experience, struggle, worship, and prayer. The 15-16 hours I spent alone in the car, along with a night alone in a hotel, were spent doing exactly those things. It was exactly what my soul needed to find some clarity, to get centered, and to experience a measure of peace amidst my acutely stressful circumstances.

Over the nearly 40 years (there’s another “40” for you, lol) I have been a follower of Jesus, I’ve experienced that my time of quiet with God each morning has an effect on the peace with which I handle the stress of each day. If I go a stretch without getting in my time of quiet with God, even Wendy notices an increase in my stress level and pessimistic attitude toward life and relationships.

And so, I try to carve out a little alone time with God each morning, and occasionally along the journey, I’ve needed more than that. I can feel the call to climb the mountain, take a road trip, or spend a week unplugged at the lake. I have a feeling that the faster this world gets, the more necessary the times of quiet will be spiritually required.

Hope you find a few minutes of quiet today, as well, my friend.

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

Road Trip

So God led the people by the roundabout way of the wilderness toward the Red Sea.
Exodus 13:18 (NRSVCE)

I find myself in the middle of an unexpected and impromptu road trip this morning. The past week has been ugly for me personally, and that is layered on top of the ugly that permeates our world on so many levels right now. I am broken. I am humbled. There are many moments in life’s journey when things don’t seem right with my world. At different waypoints of the journey I’ve experienced things not being right with my world of work, my world of relationships, my world of community, the world of my nation, the world of family, friends, faith, or finances. But usually when it happens it is an acute ugly with just one part of my world.

Right now, the ugly feels like it’s permeating every one of my worlds.

Even as I typed that last sentence, I know it’s not true. I’m a Enneagram Four, remember. If there was a profession in which pessimism and extreme emotional angst was a requisite, we’d dominate the field.

Nevertheless, the ugly has permeated several of my worlds in the last week. And so, I jumped at the chance for a road trip. Jesus went off to a mountainside by Himself to pray. I sequestered in the car driving down I-49. I meditated. I prayed. I talked a little. I tried to listen a lot.

In today’s chapter, God is leading His people out of slavery. Hundreds of thousands of men, women, children uprooting their lives and everything they’ve known and hitting the road to who knows where. Everything is changing. Nothing seems right with their worlds. There is fear of their oppressors coming after them. There is fear of what lies ahead. There is confusion about what is happening and what this all means.

And then, God leads them “by the roundabout way of the wilderness.” He didn’t lead them on straight-and-narrow way to the Promised Land, even though there was one. God led them on a difficult path fraught with obstacles and difficulties. It’s on the roundabout path through the wilderness that I am humbled and actually learn what faith means. It’s on the roundabout path through the wilderness that I find that I can’t do things on our own and that I need God and others. It’s on the roundabout path through the wilderness that I learn to forget what lies behind, press on, and persevere. It’s on the roundabout path through the wilderness that I learn the power of praising God in all circumstances and the chain reaction that follows: activated faith, powerful prayers, overcoming evil, and learning what it means to be part of the divine dance.

In the car yesterday I found myself myself meditating on this:

Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your path straight. (Proverbs 3:5-6)

The straight path is found at the end of the roundabout way through the wilderness because the straight path can only be found via trust, loss of self-reliance, and faith.

Road trips are good for the soul (in more ways than one).

“Out of the Water”

"Out of the Water" (CaD Ex 2) Wayfarer

The daughter of Pharaoh came down to bathe at the river, while her attendants walked beside the river. She saw the basket among the reeds and sent her maid to bring it…When the child grew up, she brought him to Pharaoh’s daughter, and she took him as her son. She named him Moses, “because,” she said, “I drew him out of the water.”
Exodus 2:5, 10 (NSRVCE)

There is something we love in stories about a special child, especially when that child is abandoned in order to be saved. The most recent example is, of course, Harry Potter whom Dumbledore leaves with his Muggle aunt and uncle in order to protect the boy from Voldemort and his followers. The theme is recurring, even in the comics. Cal-El is abandoned to Earth in an effort to save him from the destruction of his home planet. He grows up Clark Kent from Smallville, Kansas to become Superman.

In the Great Story, this is also a recurring theme. Joseph’s brothers abandon him into slavery and he eventually becomes the savior of the family. Hannah gives up her only child Samuel to the Temple and he becomes a great prophet and leader. With the incarnation, God the Father “gave his one and only Son” to become Savior of the world and to redeem all things.

In today’s chapter, I was struck by how much we are not told. The narrative moves fast and furious. It skips details and provides only the barest of story elements. In one chapter we go from “the child” (sentenced to die by Pharaoh’s birth control program for the Hebrew tribes) abandoned by his mother to become an adopted member of Pharaoh’s family, who commits murder in defense of one of his kinsmen, flees into another land and gets married.

One commentary I read this morning also mentioned this theme of “the child” (present even in ancient literature) and went on to observe that “Moses has ‘hero’ written all over him.”

The other important metaphor lost on many readers is the fact that Moses is so named by Pharaoh’s daughter because she “drew him out of the water.” This is yet another theme throughout the Great Story. Out of the water, Noah and his family are saved and given God’s promise in the rainbow. Out of the water, Jonah arrives in Ninevah to prophetically lead its citizens to repent. Out of the water, Paul arrives at Malta. Out of the water, Elisha miraculously proclaims his arrival as Elijah’s successor, and it is out the water turned to wine that Jesus miraculously signals the beginning of His ministry. Moses will eventually lead his people out of the water of the Red Sea towards the Promised Land. Out of the water of the Jordan River, Joshua will lead those people into the Promised Land. Out of the water of that same river, John the Baptist will lead people to repentance and proclaim Jesus the Messiah. It is out of the water of baptism that followers of Jesus are metaphorically washed of sin and set on the path of new life in the footsteps of Jesus. It is out of the Water of Life Jesus that promises to eternally quench the thirsty souls of His followers:

“Everyone who drinks this water will get thirsty again and again. Anyone who drinks the water I give will never thirst—not ever. The water I give will be an artesian spring within, gushing fountains of endless life.”

John 4:19 (MSG)

In the quiet this morning, I find both my mind and my soul spinning as I think about all the themes and meaning present in the few verses of the chapter. I didn’t even mention the theme of fleeing into the wilderness, the fact that the Midianite people to whom Moses flees are also children of Abraham, nor the fact that Moses’ father-in-law is a “priest” even though the “priesthood” of God had yet to be defined through the law of Moses. Evidence suggests that the Midianites tribes were worshipping the God of Abraham but we know nothing about it or what that really meant.

Yet, I find myself coming back to the theme of water. It is something so essential to life, and yet for most of us, it is something we so take for granted that we don’t even give it a second thought. Along the journey, I have often found that the profound things of God are often quite simple, and hidden in plain sight for “those who have eyes to see.” I’m reminded of another thing Jesus said:

“We are intimately linked in this harvest work. Anyone who accepts what you do, accepts me, the One who sent you. Anyone who accepts what I do accepts my Father, who sent me. Accepting a messenger of God is as good as being God’s messenger. Accepting someone’s help is as good as giving someone help. This is a large work I’ve called you into, but don’t be overwhelmed by it. It’s best to start small. Give a cool cup of water to someone who is thirsty, for instance. The smallest act of giving or receiving makes you a true apprentice. You won’t lose out on a thing.”

Matthew 10:42 (MSG)

A cup of cold water to someone who is thirsty.

“Out of the water….”

How simple.

Running and Return

But Jonah ran away from the Lord and headed for Tarshish.
Jonah 1:2 (NIV)

Running away is a common theme throughout the Great Story. It takes many different forms. Call it running, hiding, fleeing, wilderness, or exile…

  • Adam and Eve hid from God in their shame.
  • Cain was doomed to be a restless wanderer.
  • Abraham was called to leave his home and people.
  • Jacob fled after deceiving his father and brother.
  • Joseph was sold into slavery and exile.
  • Moses fled to Midian after committing murder.
  • David fled to the wilderness from Saul.
  • Elijah fled to the wilderness after defeating the prophets of Baal on Mount Carmel.
  • The Hebrews were taken into exile in Babylon.
  • Jesus went into the wilderness to be tempted.
  • The prodigal son took the money and ran to a distant country.
  • The disciples fled to Galilee after Jesus’ crucifixion.

Today we start back into the story of a prophet named Jonah. He is called by God to go to Nineveh, a provincial Assyrian city about 550 miles to the northeast of Jonah, and prophesy against it. Instead, Jonah books passage across the Mediterranean to Tarshish, a city on the southern tip of what is now Spain, 2500 miles to the west. At the time of Jonah, Tarshish would have literally been considered the end of the world and as far away from Nineveh as one could possibly get. Jonah was running from his calling. He was fleeing his destiny. He went on the lam from God.

I have found that a great many people have periods of their life journey in which they flee something. It’s part of the human experience. There are things one learns, experiences, finds and/or acquires only in the wilderness. Perhaps that is why wilderness is a part of every mythical heroes journey.

I have my own period of self-imposed running earlier in my life. I ran from a lot of things for a lot of reasons. I wandered to places I should never have been and did things I should never have done. I now consider that stretch of my life journey “the dark years.” And yes, looking back with hindsight I see how it was critical for me to experience it.

In Jonah’s case, we find him trying to run away from God. I couldn’t help but hear King David’s lyrics in my spirit as I read the chapter today. Lyrics, by the way, with which Jonah would likely have been familiar:

Where can I go from your Spirit?
    Where can I flee from your presence?
If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
    if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
    if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me,
    your right hand will hold me fast.
If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me
    and the light become night around me,”
even the darkness will not be dark to you;
    the night will shine like the day,
    for darkness is as light to you.

In the quiet this morning I’m thinking about both the pain of my dark years and once again grieving the injuries I caused to those I love. I’m once again reminded that I was always aware of God’s presence, even in the darkest of places. I’m also thinking about the purpose that the dark years served in the long run of my spiritual journey.

You see, just as the wilderness is a consistent theme, so is the return.

Stories, Themes, and Waypoints

“Do not be afraid, Jacob my servant;
    do not be dismayed, Israel.
I will surely save you out of a distant place.”
Jeremiah 46:27 (NIV)

We just finished our Memorial Day weekend at the lake with friends and the kids wanted to watch Star Wars’ Rogue One. As I watched I thought about the underlying story of the hero, Jyn Erso. The movie starts with Jyn as a young girl being separated from her parents (particularly her father), which is infused with all sorts of psychological weight. We quickly meet the adult Jyn, and we find her in prison (in more ways than one) and adrift in life. Through the entire movie we accompany her on her journey to be reunited with her father and reconciled to the larger purpose their own journeys play in the larger story. The last words she hears before that final, fateful moment: “Your father would be proud of you.”

Exile and being “on the run” is a common theme in stories. The Star Wars universe uses it over and over again. In the original Episode 4 we meet Luke in exile with his aunt and uncle on Tatooine along with a mysterious old wizard, Ben Kenobi, also living in his own exile. They leave the planet with Han Solo who is on the run from Jabba the Hut and the bounty on this head. In The Force Awakens we meet Rey living in exile on Jakku where she meets Finn who is… wait for it…on the run from the evil Kylo Ren, who in his own self-appointed exile, having run away from home to join the dark side.

Why do stories, novels, movies, and plays use these same themes and devices over and over again? Because they touch something deep inside us. We identify with them in our own respective journeys. When I listen to people tell the story of their life journey and/or their spiritual journey I’ll commonly hear people speaking in terms of “running,” “getting away,” “thrown out,” “straying,” “rebelling,” “distancing,” or being “far from home.” We get it. We connect with it. It’s part of our common humanity.

With today’s chapter we’re entering the final section of the anthology of the ancient prophet Jeremiah’s works. This final section is a series of prophetic messages Jeremiah made against the nations that made up the socio-political horizon of his day. The messages were seemingly arranged geographically from west to east, beginning with today’s prophetic word against Egypt.

After waxing apocalyptic against Egypt, Jeremiah speaks to his own people, promising them both exile (citing punishment for their idolatrous ways) and the eventual return and reconciliation of their descendants.

Exile and return. There’s that theme again.

This morning I’m sitting at the lake watching the morning fog roll through the trees across the cove. It’s the same view my parents enjoyed for so many years before me. It’s the same view our girls enjoyed growing up. It’s the view I get to introduce to our grandson in a few weeks. There something special about the places that become waypoints in the journey of multiple generations. Generations and their respective stories of being home and being on the run, of exile and return, of separation and reconciliation. The common themes that become a different kind of waypoint, connecting us to the larger story.