Faith and Safety

Why do we fear people? They can hurt us. We do not realize we give them the power to. We want to please them to avoid it. When I focus on pleasing people, pride tells me I can control perception. Control creates the chaos of perfection and I compromise my morals, values, and principles—my faith. When I focus on God, I discover he is already pleased with me in Christ Jesus.

Uncertainty breeds fear. People are unpredictable. Many of us are walking around as wounded vessels not realizing our own hurt or how we injure others with it. I would rather entertain my own assumptions and accusations from taking something personally than risk backlash for asking questions to help me better understand someone else.

Pride is a pervasive spirit. Its deception is to convince us that by looking to please another, we are practicing humility. In reality we are only protecting ourselves. We work diligently for people to believe we are good, and their happiness is our measure. Our attempts to control outward perception create an inward striving of perfection. We feel it necessary to be seen as good, while inside we are scrambling in chaos to keep up the facade. We exhaust ourselves by letting others live rent-free in precious headspace, fueling the fear of being found out. We end up compromising our beliefs to accommodate their thoughts, opinions, desires, and actions in the hopes of looking good and appearing nice, yet we end up feeling like we have sold our soul. People pleasing is selfish. We seem agreeable and often end up resentful.

Pride and control are cleverly laid traps shackling us to fear. When my toe triggers these traps, my foundation weakens and I stumble in the cracks. I wobble around seeking something steady, something safe, as the ground crumbles beneath my feet and I fall into a pit.

I wonder if, by fearing God instead of people, we could evict the squatters in our head and retain our souls. Humility, submission, and sacrifice are expressions of Godly fear. Fearing God fuels our faith. Faith is the antidote to fearing man.

In humility we acknowledge we are unable to please God because of our sinful nature. We humbly recognize and receive Jesus’ intervention, satisfying God’s wrath for our sin. We no longer seek approval from others nor fear their reprisal for not doing so. When we realize our equality as humanity through the sacrifice of Jesus, the lies of inferiority and inadequacy that initiate pride are silenced. We tune our ears into the truth. All mankind needs a savior, no one better nor more or less deserving. Jesus came to save us from ourselves as well as one another.

Healthy submission accepts God’s sovereign control over all things, especially circumstances and people. In awe, reverence, and humility we release our grip on the chaos to tightly grasp his mighty right hand. With our hands off, the Potter goes to work forming, filling, removing, and refining. God doesn’t need our help, however he may use us to help others. Standing firm in faith, we submit to God’s leading, trusting the outcome to his perfect will. When we fear others and adjust our behavior to accommodate their whims, control deceives us into believing we are submitting. The truth is we are being subservient.

We joyfully sacrifice for others, serving with our God-given talents, gifts, and energy in accordance with the Holy Spirit’s guidance. In humility and submission to God, we move forward in faith, unconcerned with what we give up, attentive to what he desires to give out. Our thoughts do not drift to whether the recipient is deserving. We leave that judgment rightly to God, secure in the knowledge of God’s love, Jesus’ sacrifice, and the Holy Spirit empowering our work through a humble, submitted, and sacrificial heart.

It is easy to get comfortable in fear. Complacency convinces us everything is fine, gives us an excuse, and absolves us of responsibility. Living in faith can be quite uncomfortable. Accountability and vulnerability in relationships not accustomed to these qualities cause uncertainty to raise its ugly head, but it never goes higher than the Cross. Faith leads us to the safe space at Jesus’ feet where we dump our accusations and assumptions. He renews our minds with truth which trickles into our hearts and flows from our hands. Faith allows us to be involved with the things of God. We seek first his kingdom and trust he provides all our needs. We desire his pleasure and discover he is already well-pleased.

We are all created by God in his image, making us his children; God loves every one of his children. In Isaiah (42:1) we learn God chose his servant, takes pleasure in him, and gives his servant his spirit, who declares justice to the Gentiles. God’s servant is Jesus. We become God’s people when we accept Jesus as our savior, dying to the selfishness of sin and receiving new life in him through grace and forgiveness. Psalm 149:4 tells us, “For the Lord takes pleasure in his people; he adorns the humble with salvation.” God’s people, while not infallible, know him, love him, and trust him and his word. “For I have no pleasure in the death of anyone, declares the Lord God; so turn, and live.” (Ez 18:32) God does not want any of his children ensnared by anything but his word. It brings him great sorrow when we choose the death of sin. He takes great pleasure in those who turn to him, receiving eternal, abundant life.

I am tired of being scared. I am weary from the exhaustion of worrying about what everyone else thinks, says, or does, and what I need to do about it. I am spent from falling in and climbing out of devil-dug pits. I rejoice in my salvation, praising my savior for being my safety net. I do not have to fearfully test each step. I can leap fearlessly in faith, knowing if I fall Jesus helps me bounce right back.

Faith and Proximity

No one likes to sit in the discomfort, uncertainty, or anxiety of thoughts gone wild. When trouble comes, that is exactly what some of us do. We get paralyzed. We are unable to move, plan, or think. Others, like myself, go into overdrive. Stress induced cleaning and running through every scenario, trying to plan for them all seems to satisfy my desire for control.

Approaching trouble with an independent mindset, grasping at what I see, depending solely on myself, I am quickly overwhelmed. Scenario five was obviously not the best option and number eighty-five sunk me. If I wasn’t sitting in the discomfort, uncertainty, or anxiety of my thoughts before, I sure am now.

Trouble is a part of life. It is not a matter of if it will come, but when. The tumultuous seas of life are scary and dangerous. As followers of Christ we can choose a different perspective. Jesus gives us hope as the anchor to slow our ship. The waters still threaten to overtake us, but we stay the course and pursue the adventure.

In last week’ s post we talked about how an earthquake in scripture indicates God’s presence drawing near and the changed landscape that results. The earth is already quaking. Calling on God won’t make it any worse. God is our refuge, strength and help, giving us peace in times of trouble. As we draw near to God, he draws near to us. He tells us to cry out to him in our troubles, that trusting in Jesus is how we escape them. He saves us, delivering us from trouble, but that does not mean we remain unscathed.

Fiery darts from words spoken in anger pierce our tender hearts and we take the next boat out of the harbor to get away. A diagnosis turns up the heat, causing the waters around us to become unsteady. The rogue wave of our loved one’s abandonment capsizes our life into a sea of fear.

Times of trouble are opportunities to let God do what he does best. Changing the landscape stirs up seas that have become slack from our repeated patterns. It causes us to navigate around damage blocking our way and see undiscovered land. Following Jesus into uncharted territory opens lanes carrying new ideas and perspectives.

God’s word tells us that he comforts us in our troubles so we may then comfort others with the very same comfort he has given us. We are not supposed to go through troubles on our own! In fact, God’s word says bearing one another’s burdens by sharing the weight of trouble’s load fulfills the law of Christ. Love bears all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

Sometimes we must trust God in people. As his people we help one another. The one who has journeyed longer upon these waters sees the lighthouse and steers you from the rocks. Another has withstood the whirlpool’s vortex and steadies your spiraling. And yet one more has safely shored from a rip current and leads you through it.

We must open our hearts to his love and our minds to his truth. Knowing he works all things for the good of those who love him isn’t always enough. Believing it always is. Knowing who God is helps us believe him. When we believe him, we learn to trust him.

Trusting God is not easy. Popular opinion, the latest and greatest fix, or the old tried and true standby create a thick fog, obscuring our vision. When we trust God, the boat steadies and perspective clears. Jesus becomes the focus. His character opposes chaos. His movement nurtures motivation. While life swirls like a typhoon, Jesus alleviates distress, steadies wavering, and calms turbulence. The same breath that stills the wind and waves fills our sails with provision, purpose and protection. If we capsize, we swim for the life preserver of love instead of sinking into the abyss that surrounds us.

Following Jesus has not shielded my life from trouble. Actually, it has probably invited it at times. God never intends bad things to happen, but he knows when they will serve the purpose of his love. The purpose of awakening one to who he his and drawing near. The purpose of saving one of his beloved children. He did it for me. God won’t leave or forsake you. He’s waiting for you to turn away from the storm and with courageous hope, turn to Jesus, your true north in rough water.

Faith and Peace

If there was a global earthquake, I would imagine the aftermath would feel much like the times we are in. We are socially and economically distressed. Individuals, families, and businesses upheaved by circumstances beyond control.

Being in quarantine has been hard. Beyond the social and economic impact is the simple fact that even though we’re at home, most of us have more to do. Schooling kids who see this as an extended vacation, feeling the pressure to do more from home than we did at the office fearing repercussions from our boss. Or we have become indifferent and lazy, bored out of our minds, staying up late escaping into Netflix. We sleep in, awakening to mindless searching and scrolling hoping to distract ourselves from fear of the unknown, trying not to feel so helpless and hopeless.

When a storm hits, we initially take cover. We hunker down and wait for the earth to stop shaking, the wind to rest, the rain to taper. As the fury of the storm dies down, our flurry of activity rises once more. Many of us are raring to get back to it. The kids need to get back to their routine (and out of our hair). We need to resume activities that support our lifestyle and connections that nurture our well-being.

Except this time, can we slowly stretch rather than rush to rise? As doors open and curtains are drawn back to survey the damage, I am hesitant to join the dash up the hill. Normal is just a setting on the dryer. An enemy inspired, man made invention meant to deceive us into thinking unity comes from being the same.

In Scripture God addresses storms often. Next week we will talk about blustery winds and tumultuous seas representing the difficulties of life that threaten to overtake us. For now though, let’s look at earthquakes. In Scripture an earthquake indicates God drawing near.

God’s presence shook Mt Sinai as he descended upon it before Moses ascended to receive the Commandments. God made the Earth shake before revealing himself to Elijah as a still small voice. When Jesus breathed his last up on that cross, there was an earthquake so powerful it tore the curtain in the temple completely in two. Three days later the Earth moved again as an angel rolled away a stone, revealing an empty tomb. Two of Jesus’ followers were imprisoned, praying, and praising when a great earthquake shook the prison to its foundations, and the chains of every prisoner fell off. When King Jesus returns to Jerusalem to take his rightful place, there will be a final earthquake, one greater than any having happened on the Earth.

As God draws near, the landscape changes. The law of Moses declared our distance from God and created order for a chaotic people. The still small voice draws us away from distraction to a quiet place to be with the one who knows us better than we know ourselves. The torn curtain provides direct access to the throne of grace. Jesus is not dead in a tomb, but risen, victoriously seated at God’s right hand. In the prison of our poor choices and unhealthy attachments, Jesus shakes our foundation and the chains binding us to our old way of life fall away. In that final earthquake nations will fall, rearranging the whole world’s order in preparation for its destruction and Jesus’ reign.

When our lives are shaken, happenings easily hijacks thoughts. Realizing we do not have to give in to panic or what-if scenarios gives us time to consider truth. God says he will never leave nor forsake his people. Even when the world shakes. In one of the greatest earthquakes to date, it looked like Jesus needed saving, but our salvation held him there. In the final earthquake he won’t renounce or abandon us, but escort us to our heavenly home.

What would it look like if you reached back into reality rather than passively slip into old patterns? Intentional is what is repeatedly whispering to my soul. Intention is the motivation for me to pursue purpose. Deliberately considering and choosing thoughts, behavior, and action based on what I know is true from God’s word.

I am leaving normal on the dryer and setting my thoughts higher. I am trusting the one following me up this hill, who steadies me when I stumble. I am relying on the one walking beside, lending me support or carrying me when the terrain is too treacherous. With courageous hope I am fixating on the one atop the mountain cheering me on; the same one with a view of where I have been and where I will be.