The Experience vs the Expectation Pt. 1

Jeremiah 29 is an interesting chapter.  I'm sure we are all far too familiar with the whole "I know the plans..." part of the scripture in verse 11 and have probably either quoted or had it quoted to it to us in regards to our purpose, and the fact that God has a plan for all of us.  But, what about the rest of the chapter?  This morning, I kept thinking about what the KJV version calls "an expected end," and more specifically what that expectation was.  


I am reminded of a conversation I had with my cousin Din a few months ago in which he pointed out the context of this passage.  Jeremiah wrote this letter to the exiled children of Abraham while they were in exile.  In the midst of their captivity and in the face of what could be seen by some as God forsaking them, Jeremiah speaks on behalf of God and tells his countrymen that God has not only not forgotten them, but has actually used this as a part of His plan.  Seriously- are you kidding me?!  If I'm one of the Israelites reading this letter, I am prone to believe that it's a bunch of bull because the God who delivered Moses and their predecessors is the same God who called Abram out of nothing to become their forefather, is the same God who spoke to Jacob in a dream, but somehow wants me to believe that this whole exile thing is part of the "plan" He has for me?  That's difficult to swallow at best, absolutely ludicrous (as in Jeremiah is off his rocker) at worst.  But it gets better...


When you back up and read the entire chapter, and interesting concept comes into view.  As Jeremiah writes this to the captive Israelites, he tells them to do something that is utterly ridiculous.  He tells them to suck it up and deal.  In the face of their captivity, and with the knowledge that God is perfectly capable of delivering them, Jeremiah says to not hope for their deliverance, specifically he says “Build homes, and plan to stay. Plant gardens, and eat the food they produce.Marry and have children. Then find spouses for them so that you may have many grandchildren. Multiply! Do not dwindle away!"  Really Jeremiah- multiply (insert Bebe's Kids reference)?  Here's the problem with this whole thing- God SHOULD be setting his people free...right?  I mean, we sang that old spiritual about going way down in Egypt land and you're telling me to stay?  More than that, you're telling me to have GRANDKIDS?!  This is a problem because (if I were the Israelites) I want out.  I want to return to a land of milk and honey.  I want fatted calfs and to worship my God in the place that I see fit, how I see fit to do it.  But, instead, I'm being told to kick back and embrace my captive state.  I'm essentially told to like it.  So, the next question I find myself asking is why.


Jeremiah goes on to say in verse 7, "And work for the peace and prosperity of the city where I sent you into exile. Pray to the Lord for it, for its welfare will determine your welfare."  As if it weren't bad enough that they had to live in exile, now God is asking them to pray that their captors prosper and live at peace with their enemies- the same enemies who could (ostensibly) set the captive Israelites free if a war were to break out.  This is part of God's plan?  I would find that difficult to believe, but there it is plain as day in Jeremiah's letter... crap.


Now comes the part we all know too well:


10 This is what the Lord says: “You will be in Babylon for seventy years. But then I will come and do for you all the good things I have promised, and I will bring you home again. 11 For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope. 12 In those days when you pray, I will listen. 13 If you look for me wholeheartedly, you will find me. 14 I will be found by you,” says the Lord. “I will end your captivity and restore your fortunes. I will gather you out of the nations where I sent you and will bring you home again to your own land.”


But notice something interesting, specifically the usage of the phrase "but then" in verse 10.  It implies that God will only do for the Israelites all that comes after once all that comes before has been done.  The usage of the conjunction (see here for more info) then denotes that the blessing spoken of in verse 11 can only happen if and when the captives are for their captors.  Peace and God's purpose for the Israelites can only be found when Peace and God's purpose for their enemies is sought.  So, this is what we're in for?  With all the experience we have with God delivering those that came before us, we're supposed to sit back and take on the chin the fact that God won't be delivering us right now?  We're supposed to accept that God will deliver, not our children, but our grandchildren, and that all of this captivity is for a reason?  This too is a problem.


It's a problem because, like so many of us, I have prayed to be delivered from situations.  I have earnestly sought the Lord, asking for His salvation from what I perceived as a "bad place" and believing that I had found myself in that place because of some enemy that God wanted to show Himself strong against.  But what if that's not entirely the case?  What if my being in the camp of my enemy is instead so that I can pray for their success?  What if my purpose amongst those that would take my life is not to pray for their ruin, but for their good- to pray for their salvation instead of their damnation?  What if God is "preparing a table in the presence of my enemies" (Psalm 23:5) not so I can show off and snub my nose, but rather so that I can show them the faithfulness of God that is available even to them, and in so doing expose them to His grace and love so that they can be changed.  What if my captivity is a part of Him showcasing His divinity?  What if the experience(s) I have in the place of my captivity is so that my expected end can be to show love to those that may not deserve it?  What if that love changes the(ir) world?


My natural response would be "well crap- I wanted them to suffer and be taught a lesson"  To that Jesus would reply, "I suffered enough, show grace."  Ouch.


I've got more thoughts on Experience vs Expectation coming tomorrow (or whenever I remember to post again).


Pursue.  Original.
-Damany

God of the Moments

I saw God last night.

Last night, I had an evening to myself- no shows, nothing to do, and basically just an opportunity to relax. I cooked dinner, read a book, and essentially had one of the most relaxing nights I have had in quite some time. In short- it was amazing. As I was waiting for the food that I was cooking to thaw, I decided to go for a walk. So, I grabbed Lola's (the dog) leash, and we set out for an exploration of the neighborhood. We had no agenda, no real time limit and no real way of knowing what was going to come of the night. I just knew it was a gorgeous night and I wanted to be a part of it.

I had never really taken a stroll through my neighborhood before. I'd gone on a few runs, but the houses and people whizzed by my eyes in a blurry and pain laden (I hate to run) medley of homogenized home ownership while I focused so intently on the task at hand- getting the run finished as quickly as possible. I had never taken the time to stroll and embrace the neighborhood that last night afforded me. It really is quite interesting the differences you see when you take the time to actually see. In the interests of being a cliche writer and poet, I saw beautiful colors on display in front yards, and heard dogs small and great barking at our passing. I saw quirky welcome mats and "He is Risen" signs, saw dinner being delivered and tables being set, saw children playing football, and families riding bikes. I saw life happening- and it was there that I saw God.

I had an interesting conversation with a friend of mine last night. They were caught in a place we all find ourselves far too often, a place of frustration. This friend knows that there is a plan and a purpose for her life, but is frustratingly trying to sort out just what that plan and purpose is. All the familiar questions get asked- "where am I going," "what do these gifts mean," "am I making the right decisions," and on and on they go. Ultimately though, these questions can be boiled down to one question- "do YOU really have a plan that I'm a part of, and why can't I know what it is?" My friend was facing a crisis, not of faith, but of trust. They didn't know how to express their lack of trust and would never admit to it, being from a strong Christian family, but nevertheless there it stood, staring them in the face like the blinking "do not walk" signs I confronted on my journey through my neighborhood. And in that, my friend was missing God, the God I was able to see last night.

I'm talking about the God of the moments. The God I saw was the one who finds himself glorified on balmy spring nights where the wind carries the fragrance of grill smoke and cut grass, and the air holds the melodies of laughter and memories made. The God I saw was the one who takes great pleasure in fathers making last minute grocery store runs while mothers and children set the table, takes immense joy in large glasses of wine raised in celebration of stories told that bring people closer together, and whose praises are heard as children discover the joy of a lawn beneath their feet. This God I am speaking about is the one who bids us to enjoy the moments that make up our dream, and not become so focused on "finishing the run" that we lose sight on the neighbors and conversations, the laughter and sweet fragrances, the aromas and sounds that make every moment through which we pass rich with the very presence of God.

Yes, there is something to which we are called. Yes, we have unique giftings and abilities which will enable us to be a part of a dynamic story that's been unfolding over time. Yes there will always be a frustration that comes from not fully knowing now what our then will consist of. But, I must learn, as my friend must as well, that my life is not comprised of a series of days strung together in the direction of a purpose, but as I heard someone say, a series of todays, each with their own purposes and victories and each with their own stories. It is so easy to focus on how the larger story unfolds, and to think that this chapter in our lives is but that- a chapter. But what if this is more than a chapter? What if this is a story unto itself? What if embracing and wholly being a part of this moment is in fact a telling of a tale that would make even Aesop take note? And what if, in the telling of and living in our story, we were able to see God as He wants to be seen right now, in this moment?

"Seek the Lord while you can find him.
Call on him now while he is near."
-Isaiah 55:6 (NLT)

Shadows and light

Last night, my girlfriend looked at me, pierced through me and spoke straight to my heart. In ways that challenged and chastised me, she spoke out of a love that only comes from a relationship with Christ and an ability to hear His voice. It was both scary and amazing. Scary because it again proves that God can absolutely use whomever he wants to speak truth whenever he wants, and amazing because it shows a love that is completely incomprehensible. Her expression of love got me thinking about how Christ continually manifests himself in my life.

The past few weeks have been exceptionally rough for me, and I have been fighting through varying waves of depression. Now, don't worry, nothing drastic is on the horizon for me as far as my response to this sense of depression, but it's definitely been there, hovering just above me and keeping me from being wholly effective in much of anything that I do. So, as I always have done in the past, I sought escapes from the reality of the dark life I felt I was experiencing. I sought alternative realities to the one I was living daily, knowing these were false hopes, but wanting, needing, the escape, even if just for an hour or two. As it always does, it proved unfruitful and only served to drive a wedge between God and I as I was running away from Him as opposed to heading towards Him.

Throughout the course of this time, God has again and again reached out His hand through His people to speak life to me, and in the most unlikely of ways. A friend with whom I seldom talk about the issues of my life called me out of the blue to speak a very specific prophetic word to me about my situation, good friends call and text for no reason, messages at church are seemingly targeted directly towards me, and on and on the list goes- God is after my heart and if I am able to step back for a moment, I see how beautiful that pursuit is. I see how masterfully God is orchestrating encounter after encounter so that I will know that I am not alone. I see how seemingly meaningless words suddenly take on a level of comfort that they otherwise would not have had. I see how love is being proved tangible in my life. Though this is one of my "dark nights of the soul," I still see how God is very evidently at work in everything, not in the way that things are necessarily and immediately getting better, but in the way that in the midst of the night God is there as a guiding light. It's like Psalm 119 says, that Jesus "is a lamp to guide my feet and a light for my path." It's not that the sky is suddenly illumined and all vestiges of darkness flee, but rather that, in the midst of the darkness, in the midst of that which would cause me to stumble, fall, and feel pain, God is there ensuring that I have just enough light to not give up, just enough to know that there is a hope of further light because of the glimmer that I now see.

My brother recently said something extremely profound to me. In talking about Psalm 23, he commented on the passage in verse 4 where the psalmist writes that even in the valley of the shadow of death, he will not be afraid. Anyone that has been involved in Christianity for any length of time has undoubtedly heard this scripture, and what is all too often focused on is that death is nothing to be afraid of because the overarching theme is that God's got your back. But I think there's another underlying message in that scripture- that of the shadow. Dictionary.com defines shadow as "a dark figure or image cast on the ground or some surface by a body intercepting light." And in that is God's bigger promise in the passage. This shadow of death can only exist because death, in all its powerlessness can only show itself evident in this valley because it has intercepted light. John 9:5 says that Christ is the "light of the world," so any shade of darkness, any shadow, can only exist because He allows it. Shadows are only places where the light is not yet bright enough to fully dispel the darkness- so it is true of my life. These shadows that sometimes seem so frightening because I feel as if I am living in them, are really nothing more than harbingers of Christ not yet fully revealed in a situation in my life. God's constant responses in love through friends, and sermons, sunrises and scripture are His attempts to remind me that the light in whatever area of my life seems darkest is more than just on its way, it is already there and providing hope of a brighter day when shadows cease and light dawns full upon my heart. The dark night of the soul is indicative of, not an end, but rather a beginning that has yet to, and is in the process of emerging.

Yeah, this is how I process- I write. Thanks for walking through the journey with me and for always listening to and reading the musings of a man who continues to wrestle with grace and purpose.

image sourced from fineartamerica.com

The Miracle on the Way

Matthew 9 is an interesting chapter. Jesus is finally home, amongst his people and in his own city. One would think that it would be a joyous return, a triumphal entry of sorts of the son that has gone off and done great things in the world (as they knew it), and has now come back for a time to be amongst His people. But, as far too many of us know, returning home to accomplish things is often exponentially more difficult than attempting to do things elsewhere. It seems as if nothing He does is good enough, and whether He sits with sinners or saints, He is destined to face ridicule for it. It almost seems like this is the type of environment where you pack up and tell everyone, "forget it, I can do nothing for you people." But Jesus didn't. He stayed, and faced further scrutiny, perhaps in the hope that people would get the point, or perhaps to point out a critical lesson to us.

Verse 18 starts the story of the ruler who comes to Jesus and asks that He come to his house to heal his daughter. Without hesitation Jesus gets up, His disciples in tow, and heads to this man's house. One would argue that the reason such haste was taken was because of this man's stature. That he was a man of prominence that Jesus respected as a former resident of this town, but there really isn't enough there to speculate about that (even though I just did). Either way, he isn't the point of this post. What happens next is.

As Jesus is on His way to this ruler's house, a woman sneaks up behind him and says to herself that, essentially, this is her last hope. She has been struggling with a medical condition for over a decade, and as one can imagine, is about to give up hope. This is it for her and she clearly has put a lot of stock in this man from her home town who seems to have the power to heal, and as we saw earlier- save. So, pushing through the crowd, she reaches out her hand, risking ridicule, and possible pain for the chance to just touch Him. Verse 20 says it like this: "And behold, a woman who had suffered from a discharge of blood for twelve years came up behind him and touched the fringe of his garment." The fringe. The very edge of His garment. She could get no closer than to touch the tips of the outer edge of His clothes. Whether it be because the crowd was too deep, or her shame too great, she couldn't or wouldn't get any closer. She believed in Christ's power to save and heal, but couldn't bring herself to, as so many others had done, push through face Him. She was content to, for whatever reason, stay on the outskirts of Christ's reality and that be enough for her.

Let's start there. For how many of us is this true? How many of us are so ashamed of our pasts that we dare not push into where Christ can see us face to face, and we see Him in all his glory, for fear of what our past and our histories will show about us? How many of us sit and reach for the fringes because the forefront of His love is (in our minds) too terrifying and embarrassing? Surely our issue is so big that it occludes His willingness to reach out His hand. Or surely we would face too much ridicule to allow the possibility of total healing to be completely worth it. But, if this woman is any indication- even on the fringes Christ is aware of our struggles, and pushing past our insecurities and our seeming inadequacies, he pulls us full into view of His face and tells us we're whole. Jesus stopped and looked at the woman. He acknowledged her in full view of everyone and told her that she was "made well."

That brings me to the second point- Jesus' acknowledgment. Jesus was on the way to the house of an important man in His hometown. As stated earlier, it is presumable that this was a man everyone knew and there was some haste in making the way to this home. But He stopped. In the midst of His rush to aid this man of stature and prominence, He took the time to reach out to someone of absolutely no importance and elevate her to a place where everyone could see and acknowledge her. In the midst of pushing towards a miracle that would elevate His ministry, He stopped to speak life and grace to a woman who could do nothing more than stand on the outskirts hoping for a miracle in passing. This was a woman who wasn't bold enough to push to the front of the line. A woman who knew that the man she was reaching out to was important and about important things, and was headed to the house of another important person. This was a woman who saw her place in the world as being at the back of the line with no hope of pushing forward. But God saw her, felt her need and healed her pain. God stopped, stooped down, picked her up and changed her life. But would I?

Would I stop moving forward in the pursuit of my dream or vision to stoop down and help? Would I reach out my hand to someone that could do nothing for me save offer thanks? Would I stop the pursuit of the important to embrace the hurting, or would I be too busy? Would I be so consumed with looking forward that I would ignore the gentle tugging at my heart that bid me look down? Where would my eyes be fixed? Would I look ahead, blind and oblivious to all the hurt around me, or would I find my eyes looking where Jesus did. If prominence set before me, would I be focused on it or the poverty surrounding me?

I saw a man in the cold today and it hurt my heart. He stood on the corner of a major intersection asking for help from strangers. Sure, he may have been gaming the system, he may have been a drug addict, and he may have been lazy and unwilling to get a job. But he may not have been. I could have kept driving and ignored him, my car heater buzzing with a warmth that he would not get to experience. But I didn't. I stopped and looked for a blanket, and finding none, I offered him what little I did have- change from a cup holder. He looked at me and in earnest said, "Thank you sir. My name is David, please keep me in your prayers. What's your name?" Damany. "Damany, you'll be in my prayers tonight as well. God bless." And that day He did. That day, God stooped down and ministered to the lowliest of those who were blind to their situation and undeserving of grace. That day, the prayers of a man were answered and God saved and healed. That day, God answered David's prayers...for me, and I am made better for David stopping, leaning down and ministering grace.

You can't save all, but you can fight to save one. Where's your fight today?

The light that dawned

I used to be homeless. Well, perhaps homeless is a bit of a misnomer; it's more accurate to say I was severely displaced. I am not like the scores of individuals who have found themselves living on the streets due to unforeseen eventualities in their lives. No, I was fortunate enough to have amazing friends who came out of the veritable woodwork to ensure that I had a place to sleep, a meal to eat and a shoulder to lean or cry on as necessary. I have had amazing friends, and they are too numerous to mention, but I will attempt a few. Ben, Ryan, Brad, Nate, Trae, Mr. B, Rocky, Chad, Aisha, Erica, Russell, Stacy, Rennie, Devon, Mommie, Sais, Imani- thank you for not giving up on me and for supporting me even when I didn't deserve it. I am humbled by you.

A year and a half ago I found myself unemployed, living in a new city because God told me so and having no idea what I was going to do with my life. I had some money saved, but that was rapidly dwindling, and I had no clue how I was going to get more. I picked up odd jobs, worked at a restaurant and most days found myself spending hours at the library attempting to find a job- any job- that would get me out of the hole I found myself in. To say that I was at my lowest point would be an understatement. To make up for, or rather cover up my sense of inadequacy, I did what I could to self-medicate. I drank, I slept, I cried, I tried desperately to hook up with anyone I could, believing that even if I was only happy or satisfied for a moment, it was better than not at all. Needless to say it didn't work and I found myself more depressed and despondent than when I first began. And then a ray of almost unnoticed light dawned.

Randomly answering an ad on Craigslist for an "event assistant," I found myself sitting in a decently apportioned, albeit small, office in southwest Dallas. I brought my resume, though it was never requested and before I knew it, I was hired. To be honest I really didn't know for what I had been hired, but I somehow knew that it was right. And now, here I sit over a year later as the Director of Impressions and Experiences of that same (or a newer sexier version) company. And I am humbled.

I am humbled to think that somehow my story is still being written, regardless of how hard I seemingly try to f it up. I am humbled to think that there is a God who so intimately knows me that He has been orchestrating seemingly innocuous things to come together for my good and His glory. It is humbling to know that no matter how far I seem to run, the hand of God is always there ready to catch me when I fall, even to my lowest point. I am overwhelmed to the point of tears to think that God, being so rich in mercy, has given to me such wonderful gifts as amazing friends, a family that refuses to turn their back on me, and a girlfriend who is in every way an expression of meritless grace and love. I don't deserve any of it and no matter how hard I try to earn it, try to be good enough for it, I am continually reminded that no, I am not good enough, but God is great. I am a work unfinished and a wretch undone, but God is a savior of all who call upon His name and is ever ready to answer, even if the way He answers is not what we expect. I, quite literally, was lost and, though I am not yet fully found, I am a lot closer to that point than I was yesterday and definitely last year. I can not begin to fathom this love and am unashamed to talk of the hand that reached into shit to pull me out. I am in no way trepidous to tell of the God who saw darkness surrounding me and rushed headlong into it to pull me out into a marvelous light of which I am still in awe. This light that has erased my past, not so that I might forget, but so that I might always remember who it was that brought me out and in so doing, point others out of darkness towards the Son.

The Great Equalizer?

Lately I have been hearing a lot about friends who are overwhelmed with everything going on around them. To be quite frank, I am also in that same boat on a number of different fronts. Perhaps the most frustrating aspect of this seeming overwhelmed state is the fact that it seems like in these times of too much stuff going on, and too many responsibilities being expected of us, people are still pulling on you, and still asking you to speak into their lives, offer them counsel and be a good friend. I mean the nerve! Don't they see that I need some alone time?! I'm mostly joking, but the truth is that it's difficult. And of course, it never fails that in moments when selfishness like what I just described pops up, I stumble across some scripture that both encourages and challenges me in a major way about that very thing. So it was for me today.

This morning, I was reading through Matthew, and more specifically Matthew 14. In verse 13, Jesus has just learned about the death of his cousin John (or John the Baptist to those Bible story readers amongst us). Understandably upset and probably a little distraught by the news, Jesus pulls away to be by Himself. Now, it would be spiritual and "Jesus-like" to presume that He pulled away to pray, but I would venture to believe that part of that pulling away was His human side. The side that grieves and knew that John was killed because of what both of them stood for. Jesus was (probably) sad and needed some time to think, process and be human when confronted with the loss of someone He loved. But the crowds would have none of it.

Let's for a second ignore the question of how the crowd knew where to find Jesus and just acknowledge that they did. Here Jesus was, hurt, wounded, and knowing on a number of levels that it was only a matter of time before a similar fate came to Him, and what does the Bible say of Him when He saw the people? "He had compassion on them and healed their sick." So moved was Christ by the plight of those around Him, that even at the expense of His time to grieve, He reached out to them so that they could be whole. It's easy to think that this represents the great lesson in this passage, but I would venture to say that there is still a greater one waiting in the wings.

Verse 16 starts the recounting of the feeding of the 5000+ who had gathered to hear Jesus speak or have their lives changed by an encounter with Him. So, somehow out of the midst of His pain, Jesus was able to not only have compassion on people to heal, but also to perform what is chronicled as one of the greatest miracles in Biblical history? Is it possible that our weaknesses, our sorrows, our pains and our difficulties are fertile ground for God to do mightier miracles than if we were 100% complete? Is it possible that one of the reasons that we endure hardships and persevere, all while being called upon to minister to those around us is because God is showing us that in those moments we know that we have need of something outside of ourselves? One of Jesus' most talked about miracles happened when He was in despair and still had compassion. What is God wanting to do in our lives and the lives of others through us if we would trust Him to use our sorrow as a place where miracles grow and God's power is seen? Is it possible that sorrow and difficulty are the great equalizers because God reminds us that there is little we have to operate from apart from Him?

I'm not sure what this looks like in daily application, but I encourage your thoughts and ask, where has God ministered to others in your life when you found yourself weakened?

Live Passionately. Pursue. Original.