Being Still Before God

I love the idea of stillness. Of quiet. Of resting in the refuge of God’s care (Psalm 46:1). And an often-quoted passage from Psalm 46 teaches us that quieting our hearts, our minds, and our souls is integral to knowing God:  “Be still, and know that I am God” (v. 10).

But being still isn’t easy, is it? Being quiet—and especially trying to still our hearts before God—can sometimes seem almost impossible. Why is that?

One of the most basic laws of physics tells us that “objects in motion tend to stay in motion.” So shifting from constant motion, activity, and obligation isn’t easy because it involves letting the momentum of our activity come to rest. We might think of it like a boat’s wake: even as a boat tries to stop, the momentum of its wake—the waves it caused that are now catching up to the still boat—still roll beneath, pushing it a along.

If you recognize the value of stillness but struggle to get there, that’s one reason why. Our activities and overall pace are like that “object in motion.” So give yourself plenty of space and grace as you sit before God and rest in Him. It may take some time for the waves of your spiritual “wake” to wash past you, to settle into being quiet before Him.

Christ Matters Most

My wife and I like cheesy, feel-good romantic movies. I could say it’s her thing. But I like ’em too. Their charm and appeal lies in their predictable path toward happily ever after. Recently, we watched one that offered some questionable romantic advice. Love is a feeling, it said. Then, Follow your heart. Finally: Your happiness matters most. Our emotions matter, of course. But self-focused emotionalism is a lousy foundation for a lasting marriage.

Mainstream culture dishes up many ideas that sound good initially but crumble upon closer inspection. And careful inspection is exactly what Paul has in mind in Colossians 2. There, he emphasizes that being “rooted and built up in [Christ], strengthened in the faith” (v. 7) enables us to identify our culture’s lies. The apostle calls such lies “hollow and deceptive philosophy,” built “on human tradition and the elemental spiritual forces of this world rather than on Christ” (v. 8).

So the next time you watch a movie, ask yourself or those you’re with, “What does this movie suggest is wise? How does that compare to what Scripture says is true?” And remember that it’s Christ that matters most. Only in Him can we find true wisdom and wholeness (vv. 9–10).

Agents of Shalom

In 2015, local ministries in Colorado Springs, Colorado, teamed up to serve the city, and COSILoveYou was born. Each fall, in an event called CityServe, the group sends believers out to serve the community.

Several years ago, my children and I were assigned to a downtown elementary school during CityServe. We cleaned. We pulled weeds. And we worked on an art project, lacing colored plastic tape through a chain-link fence in a way that approximated mountains. Simple, but surprisingly beautiful.

Whenever I drive past the school, our humble art project reminds me of Jeremiah 29. There, God  instructs His people to settle down and serve the city they were in. He commanded this even though they were in exile and didn’t want to be there.  

The prophet said, “Seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into exile. Pray to the Lord for it, because if it prospers, you too will prosper” (v. 7). The word peace here is the Hebrew word shalom. And it encompasses the idea of the wholeness and flourishing that only God’s goodness and redemption can bring.   

Amazingly, God invites each of us to be His agents of shalom—right where we are. We’re invited to create beauty and practice redemption in simple, concrete ways in the spaces He’s placed each of us.

Excelsior!

Sometimes surprisingly spiritual messages turn up in unexpected places, like in a comic book, for example. Marvel Comics publisher Stan Lee passed away in 2018, leaving behind a legacy of such iconic heroes as Spider-Man, Iron Man, the Fantastic Four, the Hulk and many others.

The famously smiling man with sunglasses had a personal catchphrase that he used to sign off in monthly columns in Marvel comics for decades—the Latin word excelsior. In a 2010 tweet, Lee explained its meaning: “‘Upward and onward to greater glory!’ That’s what I wish you whenever I finish tweeting! Excelsior!

I like that. Whether Stan Lee realized it or not, his use of this unusual Latin phrase certainly resonates with what Paul wrote in Philippians as he admonished believers to look not behind, but ahead—and up: “But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus” (vv. 13–14 esv).

We can easily become entangled in regrets or second-guessing past decisions. But in Christ, we’re invited to relinquish regrets and a crippling focus on our failures to press upward and onward to God’s greater glory through embracing the forgiveness and purpose He so graciously gives us! Excelsior!

I’m Just the Driver

“Dad, can I spend the night with my friend?” my daughter asked, getting into the car after practice. “Honey, you know the answer,” I said. “I’m just the driver. I don’t know what’s happening. Let’s talk with Mom.”  

“I’m just the driver” has become a joke in our home. Daily, I ask my organized wife where I need to be, when, and whom I’m taking where. With three teens, my “moonlighting” as a “taxi driver” sometimes feels like a second job. Often I don’t know what I don’t know. So I have to check in with the master calendar keeper.

In Matthew 8, Jesus encountered a man who also knew something about taking and giving instruction. A Roman centurion, this man understood that Jesus had the authority to heal, just as he had authority to issue commands to those under him. “Just say the word, and my servant will be healed. For I myself am a man under authority, with soldiers under me” (vv. 8–9). Christ commended the man’s faith (vv. 10,13), amazed that he understood what His authority looked like in action.

So what about us? What does it look like to trust Jesus with our daily assignments from Him? Because even if we think we’re “just the driver,” each assignment has kingdom meaning and purpose.

Jesus Removes the Stain

“Are. You. KIDDING?!” I yelled, digging through our dryer looking for my shirt. I found it. And . . . something else.

My white shirt had an ink spot on it. In fact, it looked like a jaguar pelt: blacks splotches coated everything. I clearly hadn’t checked my pockets, and a leaky pen had stained the entire load.

Scripture often uses the word stain to describe sin. A stain permeates the fabric of something, ruining it. And that’s how God, speaking through the prophet Jeremiah, described sin, reminding His people that its stain was beyond their ability to cleanse: “Although you wash yourself with soap and use an abundance of cleansing powder, the stain of your guilt is still before me” (Jeremiah 2:22).

Thankfully, sin doesn’t get the last word. In Isaiah 1:18, we hear God’s promise that He can cleanse us from sin’s stain: “Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool.”

I couldn’t get the ink stain out of my shirt. Neither can I undo the stain of my sin. Thankfully, God cleanses us in Christ, just as 1 John 1:9 promises: “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.”

Liked and Loved by God

It feels like “likes”—you know, that little thumbs-up on Facebook—have always been with us. But it turns out that this virtual symbol of affirmation has only been around since 2009.    

The “like” designer, Justin Rosenstein, said he wanted to help create “a world in which people uplift each other rather than tear each other down.” But Rosenstein came to lament how his invention might have enabled users’ unhealthy addiction to social media.  

I think Rosenstein’s creation speaks to our hard-wired need for affirmation and connection. We want to know that others know us, notice us—and, yes, like us. The “like” is fairly new. But our hunger to know and be known is as old as creation.

Still, the like button doesn’t quite get the job done, does it? Thankfully, we serve a God whose love goes so much deeper than a digital nod. In Jeremiah 1:5, we witness His profoundly purposeful connection with a prophet whom He called to Himself. “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart.”

God knew the prophet even before conception and designed him for a life of meaning and mission (vv. 8-10). And He invites us too into a purposeful life as we come to know this Father who so intimately knows, loves, and likes us.

God-Given Gifts

Decades ago, I went to a college retreat where everyone was talking about a personality test. “I’m an ISTJ!” one said. “I’m an ENFP,” another chirped. I was mystified. “I’m an ABCXYZ,” I joked.  

Since then, I’ve learned a lot about that test (the Myers-Briggs) and others such as the DiSC. I find them fascinating, because they can help us understand ourselves and others in helpful, revealing ways—shedding light on our preferences, strengths, and weaknesses. Provided we don’t overuse them, they can be a useful tool God uses to help us grow.

Scripture doesn’t offer us personality tests. But it does affirm each person’s uniqueness in God’s eyes (see Psalm 139:14-16; Jeremiah 1:5), and it shows us how God equips all of us with a unique personality and unique gifts to serve others in His kingdom. In Romans 12:6, Paul unpacks this idea, writing, “We have different gifts, according to the grace given each of us.”

Those gifts, Paul explains, are not for us alone, but for the purpose of serving God’s people, Christ’s body (v. 5). They’re an expression of His grace and goodness, working in and through all of us. They invite each of us to be a unique vessel in God’s service.

“Help My Unbelief!”

“Where is my faith?—even deep down, right in, there is nothing but emptiness & darkness. . . . If there be God, please forgive me.”

The author of those words might surprise you: Mother Teresa. Beloved and renowned as a tireless servant of the poor in Calcutta, India, Mother Teresa quietly waged a desperate war for her faith over five decades. After her 1997 death, that struggle came to light when portions of her journal were published in the book Come Be My Light.

What do we do with our doubts or feelings of God’s absence? Those moments may plague some believers more than others. But many faithful believers in Jesus may, at some point in their lives, experience moments or seasons of such doubts.

I’m thankful that Scripture has given us a beautiful, paradoxical prayer that expresses both faith and the lack thereof. In Mark 9, Jesus encounters a father whose son has been demonically tormented since childhood (v. 21). When Jesus says that the man must have faith (“Everything is possible for one who believes” v. 23), the man responds, “I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!” (v. 24).

This honest, heartfelt plea invites those of us who struggle with doubt to give it to God, trusting that He can fortify our faith and hold on to us firmly amid the deepest, darkest valleys we will ever traverse.