Journey, Wilderness and Comfort: The Movements of the Spiritual Life

“At once, this same Spirit pushed Jesus out into the wild. For forty wilderness days and nights he was tested by Satan. Wild animals were his companions, and angels took care of him.”—Mark 1:12How is it that in one single verse, Mark explains the journey of the spiritual life? It’s fascinating to simply sit with this solitary verse recorded in Mark’s Gospel and to sense the movement, undertaking and activity that Jesus experienced. Friends, in this one, single verse, there is a great movement that needs to be understood. I say “movement” because the spiritual life is a journey from one movement or place in life to the next. We never stay static. We are invited to always to learning; always be growing and always being transformed.First, let’s recall the context of Mark’s powerful singular verse. This verse comes immediately after the wonderful story of Jesus' baptism and being told that Jesus was the “beloved of God.” That moment in the life of Jesus, and in the life of all of us who follow Jesus, is crucial and essential. We all need to hear those same words for ourselves. Each of us needs to know that we, too, are the Beloved of God. I have come to understand that,in this historical event in the life of Jesus—the entire trajectory of his life shifted. Nothing was the same for Jesus when he heard these words—and nothing for us can stay the same when we hear these same words for ourselves. Prior to this, Jesus made furniture. After this event, Jesus made people. He freed people caught up in their own web of religion and offered them freedom. He compelled people to leave their boats, their careers, their people groups and their tribes to enter a new phase—a new place and to have a new understanding of God in their lives. This was his mission. Through his teaching and his life, he offered a different way; a different truth and a different life. This is still true today.The Journey of Discovering Who We Really AreThat’s what happens when any of us hear our true identity from God about who we really are. God told Jesus who he was. Today, that same Voice tells us our true identity—that we, too, are the beloved of God. Until we know this for ourselves, we will live into the lies of life that try to convince of us three lies:

• I am what I do.
• I am what I have.
• I am what other people think of me.

These three lies form a web of sorts, that catches  and snares every person on the spiritual journey of life. By attaching our hearts to just one of those lies means that we will discover the sticky residue that each of those lies manifest in the human heart. Those lies accumulate untruth within us. These lies do great harm to our hearts. We will lean into our doing. We will acquire too much stuff and positions to prove we are really somebody. We will be co-dependent about our reasons of living is for what you will think of  me.God knows that there must be a powerful force to help us get free from such lies. These lies have wedged their way into me. They are in my story and I believe they are in your story as well. This web seems to be able to catch us off guard and in times when we thought we were “done” or “through” with that lesson or insight. For some of us, we keep on returning to re-learn the deeper truths of these same, timeless truths.Rather than beat ourselves up that we feel remedial or stupid or forever broken, we can also learn to be gentle with ourselves.  Being gentle in how we learn lessons in the spiritual life is key. There's been too much harshness imported in our teaching; too many loud voices screaming at us; too much information and too little love.What’s interesting here, is to note that the three temptations that Jesus faced in the wilderness are actually, the three temptations that Satan confronted him with. These temptations were about his identity, power and to do spectacular things in life that would hinge to his mission. But there’s more to this story.Does God push, force and drive us?Mark’s verse here tells us that the same Spirit that rested on the physical body of Jesus was now not resting but actually: “pushing,” “forcing” and “drove” Jesus out into the wilderness.  Read the verse again before you move on. We move too quickly sometimes in reading the Scriptures that we miss important insights that could actually help, free or heal us.   As you read the verse again note that these are the literal translations in the ESV, Message and Amplified versions of this verse. Jesus was pushed. He was forced. He was driven.Jesus was pushed. Jesus was forced and Jesus was driven by God’s Spirit. We may feel initially uneasy about the descriptor words about the power of the Spirit that Mark is offering us. We may prefer a softer, more gentle—way of the Spirit. But Mark uses real, tangible and powerful words to show us how God operates.  When I look at my own story; listen to hundreds of stories of modern day followers and read the ancient accounts of men and women, who through the centuries gave a written witness to their own spiritual journey here’s what I’ve discovered.There are times in our lives when we simply feel compelled, duty-bound, coerced, pressed or even forced to do something. This “feeling” that I want to attempt to describe is a sort of inner mandate that we simply “have to move,” “have to head in a whole other direction, have to step out in faith that somehow we just “know” what we have to do. I “ought” to do something and I know it and I cannot NOT do this thing that I feel so ought-driven to do.We have to simply go. We sense we have to leave. We must make a break.My Own Journey of Being PushedI have experienced several of these kinds of defining moments in my life. Allow me to share five of these times of feeling what Jesus must have felt:

• When I first met Gwen at a party, I just “knew” that I would marry her. I did marry her. I felt compelled. I felt driven to pursue her with wild abandon. I am so glad I followed that inner sense of “oughtness.”
• When I came to the realization that I was not a card-carry denominational man. That I had never been comfortable with my roots anchored in a particular way or system that defined me; shaped me and molded my thinking that was truly not me. I left the denomination. There was such a clear, distinct sense of “oughtness” rising up ---that I discovered I could NOT –not do what this sense of being driven to do was telling me. I remember feeling that really, I had no choice in this. I would live a lie unless I left. There are many implications to think through in regard to this in today’s world.
• When I was preaching a sermon in the church that I led, I had a deep sense of feeling “pushed.” It was in the fourth Sunday worship service in a very large church and I had a sort of private, quick epiphany or panic attack perhaps which rose up with me and informed me saying “This is not you. This is not where you belong at all. I want you to get out.” I got out. I felt as if I was living in a smoke filled room and I could not breathe. I could not find my breath. I felt trapped. I felt like I was imploding or would implode if I did not “get out.” When I left, I began to breathe again and I came alive again—but in a different way than before. I felt really alive—like a sort of new birth.
• When my first grandchild was born and the subsequent birth of all of my grands, I sensed this same urging rising up with me. “Seize this role, Steve. Rise up and be the spiritual influence this child needs. This is your role. These people are your true legacy.” I was flooded about my real role in life and my real legacy that would define me as a man. IT was powerful and life-altering. Much of my “repositioning” today is a result of the tectonic plates of my inner world shifting. I suspect many of you can identity in some way, shape or form.
• I am having this same inner "pushing" right now as Gwen and I attempt to "reposition" our life and calling. We agree that we simply "must" do this for reasons we alone know and a deeper sense that this is right for us. We are not being pushed away or out.  It is an inner sense that we are recognizing as an invitation--not a commandment. We could ignore or suppress this. But at this stage of our lives, we feel a sense of "oughtness." We ought to do this and walk into a new chapter waiting on us.. a chapter off the 8-lane freeway of a busy ministry and to live the life we speak about, write about and want to live.

As you read my own accounts here, though brief and succinct, I wonder what may rise up with in you about having a similar sense of being “pushed” out to a whole new terrain—a brand new landscape that had your name on it and you did what we all have to do when this comes, we get up and enter this new place---that we don’t even know the real name of yet.The Wilderness We All Must Enter in LifeThis brings me to Mark’s words again of this place where Jesus was pushed to go. It’s called—wilderness. I once heard Eugene Peterson, Dallas Willard and Richard Foster state in unison and with one voice that “wilderness” is the predominate metaphor of the spiritual life. I remember a visceral reaction when what these three spiritual magnates were really telling me. I didn't like this lesson and what's more I resented them saying such a thing. But in time, I have come to agree. I believe what they shared is really true. I, along with each one of you, would need to embrace the idea and concept of wilderness to understand the spiritual journey. We would need to go into wilderness and let wilderness do what wilderness does to the soul.In wilderness, we are stripped down. We have to face our illusions that we may have long held to be true and right. We have to let the long days and lonely nights of wilderness begin to de-construct belief systems, rigid box like thinking and false narratives that we have clung to—thinking them to be really true—only to have our boxes fall apart. Things fall apart in the wilderness. Perhaps this is their God intended purpose.. We let go of things, hard-held beliefs and even convictions handed down to us by parents, political parties and denominations. We are stripped. We have to come to terms with a whole other reality that we discover and are, in fact, discovered by in wilderness times.Ask someone what they learned after their spouse died and a wilderness happened? Ask a corporate woman what they experienced after being fired from a highly esteemed job—a wilderness. Ask anyone who has failed at something they really wanted to accomplish in life. Ask anyone who has divorced a spouse having clung for so long that divorce would never be an option. Ask anyone who has lost a child. Ask anyone who as trekked into a wilderness uninvited, unwelcomed and unwanted. Ask anyone who has transitioned to another country and had to endure that long, lonely season of having no friend, no family; no church, no community and who has left all the food, people and place that comfort gives. We don't have to look far around or far within to find that wilderness is actually everywhere. As Paul says, we are always carrying the death of Jesus within us--even while we are living. Strange isn't it?  Not really.  Let me explain a bit more.Jesus was driven into a wilderness. And from this verse if we say we want to be followers of Jesus, we must embrace our own sense of being driven into wilderness times where we give up security, all that we know to be true and enter a deep, dark time of testing. It is the way of God for such times. Jesus could avoid it and never can we. We can’t go around a wilderness. WE can’t go over a wilderness. We can’t go under a wilderness. We all, just like Jesus, have to go through a wilderness.The movement of the spiritual life is moving and living; then moving into a wilderness--then emerging into a sort of "promised land".  This is the classical understanding of the spiritual life and it is really hinted at, if not explained here by Mark.Facing the Wild Animals WithinMark reminds us that the first things to show up in Jesus’ wilderness times were the wild animals. I recently read a study showing that in 1^st century Israel there really were no really “wild” animals. There were no loose and wild lions seeking to devour people. There were no bears. So what kind of “wild”animals was Mark referring to that confronted Jesus? A wild dog? Maybe. A herd of wild boars? Maybe. I’m not sure actually.But what I know is this. The wild animals that always seem to assault me are the inner ones. Voices of shame. Lamenting voices speaking about my failures. Wild voices that are self-condemning and always self-critiquing. They are always trying to literally pull me apart from the inside. It is these voices that always seem to show up for the hundreds of people I listen to when they are alone, hungry, afraid and tired from the journey of life. These wild voices seem to fall into one of three categories jeering us about what we have done; what we really want in life; and what will really satisfy us in life. Right here, in one of these three wild voices, we will be confronted with what we truly believe and about what is really true.It’s in these dark wilderness times that we make inner resolves about how we will stand in the face of such wild voices. This is what Jesus did. He resolved in each jeering taunt the truth that he knew and the truth that would compel him forward and out of the wilderness.In the contemplative life, we are offered a beautiful lesson. Those who want to live a life marked by inner peace and a sense of shalom are not immediately granted the fruits. It takes time---and I read this week a year of learning to transition is not too long to think about when we are leaving one place on our journey and entering a new one.  I can tell you that in my own journey and understanding, I have had to embrace the fact that my journey is taking a whole lot longer than I thought and even wanted. I must simply walk through some wildernesses to understand some of the fruit of the life I am hoping to cultivate. It takes time.Finally, Mark reminds us that after—and only after, he had gone into the wilderness and faced the wild beasts and even Satan himself—that Jesus would find comfort.  Comfort comes--that  is the good news for us. But it is in the wilderness that we find the comfort we actually want.Friends, these are important words that can encourage us right now in whatever desert we are living in or through. There is comfort. Mark tells us that the “angels attended him.” Other translations tell us that Jesus was cared for. Jesus was "ministered to"…that the angels "continually ministered to Jesus."  Think about this.  Comfort came and does come to us as well.As we move through our own wilderness times, there comes a sense that we are not alone; that we are not forsaken; that we are not in this by ourselves. We get to experience—and yes, the word I’m saying here is “experience” the loving comfort of the love of God. Perhaps this is what Paul had in mind when he says he literally “prayed” that we would experience a sense deep within us of God’s love. This kind of comfort, Paul explains “surpasses our understanding” (Ephesians 3:19). This is the kind of individual and personal ministry that God is about. This kind of beautiful, specific and unique comfort is what really defines the heart of God. It is the kind of love that we, my dear brothers and sisters are invited to taste as the beloved children of God. This is the kind of love and experience that actually defines the kind of God we love and serve today.At Potter’s Inn, Gwen and I have walked with many people who come to us in their defined time of wilderness. They are tired, worn out and beaten up by many things in life—including religion. But what we are witnesses to, is this: As they walk through their wilderness times---wilderness of their own vocational journey; wilderness times of feeling like mis-fits in church; wilderness times of being so worn down that they feel ‘dead on arrival’—that comfort comes. Peace is fostered. Inner contentment is realized. It’s uncanny and it’s true.I hope that this may encourage you in what ever circumstance you find yourselves in and that when you feel that are you are being ushered out and into a wilderness that you may remember Mark’s powerful, singular verse and may this one verse bring great hope to us all in a time of political, relational, ecclesiastical, vocational, or physical wilderness that we will have to walk through.If you’re in a wilderness defined by disease or diagnosis: take heed.If you are in a vocational wilderness and are living in the land of in-between, take heed.If you are a liminal space—a space of wilderness defined by geography, emotion or relationship, or even a spiritual wilderness-- take heed.There is movement. Trust the movement. Trust that comfort is on His way!

Going Unplugged

For me to have a true time of sabbatical—a true time of ceasing from my work, it was necessary and mandatory that I abstain from social media during my season of rest, renewal and restoration. There is no way, that what has happened in me could have happen or would have happened if I would have stayed wired, on and available. You might think you are the exception and that you could rest and renew your heart by staying on and wired but that, my friends is an illusion that you are hooked into actually believing. In order for me, and perhaps you as well, to live sanely and with a sense of vitality and not mere survival, we need to discipline ourselves to go wireless in order that we can live in a robust, abundant kind of way. I had to do this. I needed to do this. Perhaps you do also.In today’s world, fasting from technology and dis-engaging from forms of social media are vitally important and needed. When we are so wired and insist that WiFI be omnipresent, we are submitting ourselves to a false and dangerous world. Let me be clear, I am an advocate for social media. I use it every day. However in my sabbatical, I unplugged and went off line for months and I believe in doing so, I created the space where I could cultivate my inner life; do more inside work so my outside job would go better and cultivated a sense of serenity and well-being that being wired seemed to rob me of in my life. Here are five reasons why:1. Social media nourishes illusions about life that are not true. The images we post ; the snippets of updates we read; the “trending” of our interests builds and re-enforces a false view of life. No picture reveals the whole story, does it? Behind every smile, there is something else we do not see but is as real as all the grins we are staring at online. There is something unsaid behind every post and every instagram photo. Photos don’t reveal our child who is ADD; our son who we caught on a porn site our aging parents feeling unwanted or perhaps unloved. Pictures of men don’t reveal their inner struggles. Pictures of a ladies night out don’t clue us in on one of them having a secret addiction. Images, themselves are not the whole truth.2. When we are always present to social media, we are not present to ourselves, our hearts and God. By skimming scores of quotes, posts and images, our minds are simply taking in what it seems everyone else is doing and everyone else is saying on a particular subject. We don’t take time to reflect, to become mindful of our own thoughts, feelings and convictions. We simply react and “like” things. We grow numb to ourselves—perhaps even numb to the promptings of God. Paralyzed in doing anything else other than hold our phones and go into a catatonic trance—we withdraw to live in a wifi world- a world that is void of human touch; eye contact and presence. We grow impatient in conversation privately insisting and demanding that someone we’re trying to talk to get to the point so we can move on to something else. We do not linger with deeper implications of thoughts and are void of the ability to reflect—that one important aspect in humanity that distinguishes us from my dog and the birds that feed at my feeder. To reflect is what makes us more god-like than perhaps any other quality or characteristic in life.3. Many forms of social media enable us live on the surface rather than moving deeper in our hearts. Social media has a way of enabling us to live at the edge of subjects by reading quotes or hearing a few sentences about a subject. We don’t have the time, we think and we don’t take the time, to reflect more about something. We don’t look at both sides of the argument because our hurriedness causes us to skim and not to process.4. Addiction to social media is as real as an addiction to porn or alcohol. It is as dangerous as a meth addiction. By taking regular times of fasting from social media, we can break and curb what we feel is our “need” of it. Turning your phone off during meal times; turning all forms of beeping, buzzing and vibrating off for two hours a day or going dark or off by 8pm at night creates the needed space for conversation and reflection. Many forms of social media are actually pain remedies. We do not want to be alone or feel alone so we “engage” with an illusionary world that enables us to escape from a world we are navigating. Try fasting from all technology for your Sabbath—a true day of ceasing, which is the literal meaning of to Sabbath—is to cease.5. Social media helps devalues human relationships. Sure, it’s great to get the birthday greetings and to quickly read the news of something you really do need and want to know. But, when we lean heavily into social media by picking up our iphone every 72 seconds to see if something new is posted—while we are having lunch, coffee or a meeting with another human being, we are saying: “My social media life is MORE important than you are.” It’s rude, insensitive and uncaring to use social media in a meeting, during a conversation or sharing a meal. I’ve gotten to the point of asking the person I’m meeting with if they would mind to turn off their phone so we can be focused, present and truly "with" each other in our time together. Social media fosters a culture of living in a true attention deficit world. Can you create a “No Wire Room” in your home or workspace where phones are not allowed?Here’s what helped me to unplug, go dark and get unwired. I asked one of my teammates to read all my emails and to decide what I really needed to know during my sabbatical. Yes, I did this. Do this for your vacation so you can really be “off” and not always checking. The checking is what gets us into trouble. What you think will be a 5 minute email results in getting pulled into so many issues, stories and crises. I put an “auto-responder” on my email telling anyone who needed me that I was off and my teammate would decide how to respond. I told my team that I was not to be called, emailed or texted by them during sabbatical; that if I was needed in case of death or the retreat center had burned down, that only one person was to get me the news. This helped to establish a boundary for them and a boundary for me. It gave me permission to go off the grid and in my going off the grid, I was able to find myself and come back with a greater sense of life inside me than I really knew was possible. We decided to not interact with our staff, Board, donors or anyone related to our work to really help me have the much needed space. It was hard. All have been gracious and kind and this one thing---protective of us during this time. They surely knew how much we needed it. Their silence was, in the end, love to us.Did I look at Facebook some? Sure. Going cold turkey was hard and it is in any form of withdrawal. It was hard for me to give up double stuff Oreos but when I chose to give up those edible demons, something better happened. My desires changed. I wanted to go off of social media; not just that I needed to go off social media and that is precisely the place where transformation happens—not in obeying the rules but by changing what you really want. When our grandson died, I wanted the world to know. When I read something that felt life altering, I did not want to withhold it. So I broke my own rules and posted a few things. But I did not look for responses of how many people liked it. (Well, I tried not to look.)

The Gift of Bewilderment

 “Only at the periphery of our lives, where we, and our understanding of God, are undone, can we understand bewilderment as an occasion for another way of knowing.”   Belden Lane There is nothing like being the only one walking on a desolate beach in the cool dawn of morning and stumbling upon a beautiful, broken shell that speaks to you. Now of course you know that I don’t mean the shell said something, yet it was as if, it did. I couldn’t help but plunge into the wonder of its delicate markings that formed a spiraling circle, as if to be the very mapping of the journey my heart was on. I couldn’t help but go subterranean, that place deep inside where there is no vocabulary to articulate the feeling or what I knew to be true. I was in awe, speechless. So much was being said and I was listening intently. Pondering the beautiful and the brutal of what I was ushered into left me silent and still. I dared not move for fear of losing the very encounter that my heart always longs for.So how do I describe to you what it was like for me to encounter God through a shell? It was strangely sacred, like God and I have this private exchange about the realities that are too deep for human words, so paradoxical, the silent beautiful and brutal truths mingling together way down deep, with just God and me. At times like this a gnawing frustration burrows deep too. What do I do with these wordless ponderings? The painful emotions of grief and the soothing comfort of the salt air undo me. I’m left bewildered by my inexpressible soul.While being steeped in stillness for a while, God showed me something about myself and about himself. Frustration was coming from trying so hard not to be bewildered by the deep stirrings in my heart. I was actually trying to make common sense out of something holy. God assured me of the need for quite the opposite. My bewilderment is blessed and not to be boxed up and clearly identified. Bewilderment is, as Belden Lane expresses, “an occasion for another way of knowing God. “ To be undone by the ripping grief of death is an occasion for another way of knowing God. Consoled by the beauty of strolling on a lonely beach was an occasion for another way of knowing God. Listening to the loud silence of what a shell had to say was an occasion for another way of knowing God. I didn’t have to articulate and make it understandable. It was all it had to be.To articulate what is deeply spiritual isn’t always the right thing. I wonder if a lot of Christians talk incessantly, preach too long, and teach too much because to remain in mystery is too threatening to their stated faith. Perhaps, we thirst for more information about God than experiencing the mystery of God. To embrace the mystery of the unseen and indescribable is to experience a quiet peace that surpasses the need to explain or understand. And it is a sweet peace that is palpable.Sabbatical often ushered me into this bewildering place and I found myself glad and knowing that I can rest in bewilderment. 

Our Sabbatical Journey Towards Poverty

During the first four weeks of our sabbatical—I think all that happened in me was a slow coming off the drug of work; the stimulus of my adrenalin and a steady withdrawal from being available. My brain was too tired; too vacant to read anything at all. I spent hours staring at the waves from a barrier island off the coast of North Carolina where we hunkered down. There I read the waves—not books. I couldn’t read words, listen to sermons or podcasts. It was too much…just way too much information coming at me. I had to stop and learn to listen and hear in a new way. Silence said more to me than at any other time in my life.But as I documented in my journal, I finally wanted to read in week three. And what I wanted to read was the Scripture. I needed ancient words to stick in my soul.Modern words can be so shallow sometimes. So I began to read Exodus—a fitting book because here I read about being in the wilderness and I found myself in one after so many long years of work. I skipped to Acts where I read about the movement of Jesus taking root in the heart and lives of the new found followers of Jesus. I found myself wanting what they wanted. I needed what they needed. I longed for the same things as many of the people found in that book: healing, purpose, companionship, forgiveness. The list goes on.Then, I landed upon the Beatitudes of Jesus—those short, life altering statements which throw a rod into the spokes of our fast moving life. They made me stop. They altered the trajectory of my life. The dismantled my programs for happiness. They undid me. Day after day, I read them, sat with them and marinated in them. They de-stabilized my efforts to be happy. They offered to me a whole new way of looking at life. And I suppose I was ready to breathe these paradigm shifting and life altering statements deep within me.The first one talks about being “Poor in Spirit” and the blessing that comes to us in such times of poverty. Yes, I was found in my own spiritual, emotional, mental and relational poverty. I had to lay down my efforts of knowing how God works. I was empty for explanation of any sorts to myself, to Gwen, to my family. I was needy—a beggar of sorts. Desperate for someone to give me my daily bread because all the bread I was making wasn’t satisfying my soul. To become poor is to become dependent on the care of others--like a beggar. A truly poor person becomes open to the receptivity of others--the generosity of a crumb--even a small token of love has a way of filling a poor person's heart and soul.I was helped here in becoming poor by the death of our fourth grandson. Losing something that you thought was so important has a way of bringing us to our knees. This happened to me. I felt bankrupt of feelings and wallowed in sorrow for our loss. I couldn’t not find words—even though I love words and use words and teach words and write words. I was wordless and still am in some respect. I feel poor in my ability to say what has happened in me.I got to see Tommy fifteen minutes after his birth. I held him. Gwen was able to be in the delivery room and witness his birth and passing into Heaven. When I went in, his body was already changing from pink to blue. As his body became blue, my soul became more blue. I held him and in a way, he held me. The picture you see is Tommy holding me—my finger—my soul. As this happened, I was saying “Hello, Tommy—welcome to this world. Good bye, Tommy, I will see you soon in Heaven.” It was way to brief; way to short; way to hard.What made my poverty even more of a loss for me to experience is that so many of my friends seemed to have remained quiet. I still don’t really know why that is. Maybe I have not understood the quietness of friendship yet. Perhaps, they assumed we would be surrounded. We were not. Perhaps ,they were afraid of saying the wrong thing. Perhaps, I live with illusions about what community looks like, feels like and tastes like. I also know that we are loved but in such a time as this for us, the quiet became so very loud and seemed to only reinforce our aloneness even more. We are so very grateful for the acts of love we did receive. They truly did assuage our soul. But let me just say it here: plain and simple. Nothing replaces the incarnational love of God in such a time as someone's flesh--someone's hug; someone's embrace. Nothing replaces that. It was for us, the loneliest time of our three scores of walking this planet and I never want to feel that sense of aloneness again in my life. Never. In this time, I read an article by the New York times columnist, David Brooks who hit the nail on the head in his most excellence piece, "The Art of Presence." Please do go back and read his true words. His words should become required reading for anyone who thinks of themselves as a caring, loving person.In the end, our sons and daughters rallied around us and in them and through them we found a solace we so, so needed and wanted. Grief is the robber of all joy and our grief was doubled in that Tommy's death was OUR grandson, not just any child; not just a statistic of chromosomes gone bad; not just another baby. Flesh of my flesh and bone of my bone leaving to become dust is such a loss. It is heartbreaking for any 26 year old couple to lose a child and enter into the death of innocence.It was not just Tommy's death. It was witnessing the utter devastation of our last born son and his beautiful wife. In many ways, this grief was, for us, harder than Tommy's death because in a way, our son and daughter both died that day---or a big part of them did. Our grief was doubled by this realization too!Grief and poverty---becoming poor in spirit became the key to unlock both of the hearts of Gwen and myself. Grief and poverty of soul forced us in ways, we did not even know we could, rely on the One who is Comfort indeed. And what we found is this: God's comfort really is real. God's love really is enough. My poverty leads to God's riches. Yet, we would not have chosen this key to unlock our frozen hearts. But through our grandson’s death and walking with our son and daughter in law, we were taken to the greatest season of neediness that we have ever experienced in our lives. We became raw. We became desperate. We became poor. And this poverty has now ushered us into such richness that we will try to explain in upcoming posts."Blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." Jesus in Matthew 5: 3"Your blessed when you are at the end of your rope. With less of you, there is more of God and his rule." Jesus in Matthew 5:3, Message

Sojourner

It matters to me to tell you how displaced I have been for months. Displaced. Let's define the word first.

dis·placed

adjective

1. lacking a home, country, etc.

2.moved or put out of the usual or proper place.

For several months, I have not recognized my life. I've been moving quickly. I've been displaced by a fire of epic proportions and moved away to root ourselves in the soil of our retreat. We've left our home and in some ways, we feel like we've left our country. I'm feeling like I am in a new place--defining a new home and carving out for myself a new life. I blogged yesterday on Living the Life you most want to live. That's a question that is nagging in me right now.

Even my roles have changed in recent months. I find myself being a grandfather which stirs feelings I never knew existed. I'm sitting in the small room of a log cabin used for washing and drying clothes and yesterday, found myself a small wooden desk in which I'm sitting here looking out a tattered window with a torn screen. This new exit from my old life to a new one I am trying to define is causing us to re-think nearly everything. A place for that. A cleansing of our acquired stuff because their are simply no closets--and now no closets even to my soul.

So, today I have finally taken the necessary time to put words to feelings and to put phrases to soulful longings. What came out is this-- a  new poem.  I will share it with you now.

Sojournerby Stephen W. SmithSeptember 7, 2012 I am a sojourner who has been for too long, away from home.Distant lands have beckoned me and I have heeded their voices.The names of the lands do not matter now but what matters more is the gap.I am a modern day prodigal and I have left the hands, which wait to bless me. Those hands I have wanted for so long upon my shoulder--upon my life.I have longed to be carried rather than toil this arduous journey so alone.Yet, now do I know that those hands have been underneath me all along.Sweet Presence-- though I did not want to be carried at times. I am moving towards home.To that place where I belong and where I am received without shame and blame.With tattered heart and ragged soul, I sense you now moving towards me.Please, my God find me and in your arms left me now fall. Receive my confession and hear my cry.Words pulling up my soul to tell you the truth.My tears are my baptism pool to be cleansed once again.Open wide the door to home and receive me unto yourself.

Why Isolation, obscurity and hiddenness matter in a social media crazed world!

We have it all wrong in our culture. We have falsely assumed that the better known we are; the more exposure we have; the bigger the platform we develop that we will live a better life. If that were so, Jesus would have told us to expand our world, make ourselves known and be stand-outs in the crowds. What has happened is that in the world of technology and instant fame, now everyone can have a voice and everyone try to have influence—no matter what kind of influence it is. When you look through the men and women formed through time, faith and God’s hands, we notice a different way about going about our lives. God allowed Joseph to spend years in prison when falsely accused. God wanted Paul right after his conversion to go to into the arid desert of Arabia for three long years. In the hidden places, the obscure places and the isolated places where we live our lives, God is at work. This is an important fact that we cannot neglect or ignore in life. God wants long seasons of development; long times of character forming; long periods where he can teach us, form us and shape our heart. Our heart is shaped more in times of isolation and obscurity than at any other times in our lives. It was in prison where Paul wrote many letters of the New Testament—not preaching in big cities. God used his obscured voice muffled by prison bars to elevate his platform. Jesus spent 30 years in obscurity and only 36 brief months in the public’s eye. Something happened in the soul of Jesus while being formed in hidden places that could not and would not be formed with him in the spotlight. This has major implications for people who serve on a team and not the Chairman; people who are assistants and not the President; people who are vice presidents rather than the one who gets the credit early, frequently and often! In this world of social media rage, instant availability and huge ways to gain influence quickly, we must remember this important point:  A shallow life is not a life we are impressed with. A voice not seasoned by times of pain is not a voice that has authority. A platform built by social media rather than the  important planks of character, integrity and truth will not endure the tests of time. Think on this important verse and discuss it with a friend today over coffee or lunch: “Be content with obscurity, like Christ.”  --Colossians 3:4 ------------------------------------- This entry is drawn from my chapter in The Jesus Life on The Way of Hiddenness, which is Chapter 4 in the book. I am receiving such wonderful feedback about this chapter in particular.