You Have No Idea

“May God himself, the God of peace, sanctify you through and through.”—1 Thessalonians 5:23

Aspirations. Goals. Hopes. Pursuits. No matter how far along the journey, we all have them, because we were all built for seeing the tape at a finish line and breaking through it triumphantly.  In work, family, athletics, favorite hobbies, and especially this Great Adventure, finish line visions are entirely healthy. Because, at their root, triumphant aspirations are a God-breathed thing.  In one place in the Word, we’re exhorted to run in such a way as to get the prize. In another, to forget what lies behind and press on toward the goal. And no one in history modeled finish line mentality more completely and triumphantly than Jesus with His final three words on the cross.

In another place, the same writer who talked about running and pressing on also said things like the importance of not running aimlessly, or boxing wildly at the wind. Because aspirations, goals, hopes, and pursuits require not only imagining busting through the finish line, but laying out and following a strategy to get there. Which is probably why we are drawn like magnets to any one of the dozens of the great prayers of the Bible. They do all that. And many of them are so inspiring, and conjure up such spectacular images of what its particular finish line might look like, it sends a quiver through the stomach, right down to the toes. Like this one:

“May God himself, the God of peace, sanctify you through and through. May your whole spirit, soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. The one who calls you is faithful, and he will do it. “(1 Thessalonians 5:23-24)

We see these electrifying words. Our eyes may light up. And we want to swallow them all whole and expect great things. Right away. Until you get to the end of that very same day, and you feel like everything about swallowing that prayer turned out to be just the opposite—a full-volume awareness of attitudes that refused to crawl out of their rut, negative self-talk, whining under pressure, snapping at people (yes, you can do that really well even in your mind) who irritated you by something that, in the end, was really silly to get irritated about.

We think “epic fail.” God says, “Re-read the last sentence of that prayer you prayed this morning.”

Sanctify is a big word that basically comes down to Christ in me—a given for all who Believe—but then through me, and flowing out of me. Try as we might, there is no right away in those last two, which is why it's good to know that what we think was an epic fail moment even after the first day is not fail at all, but rather God’s "through and through" at work, touching and redeeming all the blind spots of our lives (sometimes, over and over and over again).

We picture busting through triumphantly at the finish line, and God says, "You have no idea how I desire to trump your wildest imagination. Trust Me, one more time, trust Me on this, because here's an even more amazing promise to swallow whole:

'No eye has ever seen or no ear has ever heard or no mind has ever thought of the wonderful things God has made ready for those who love Him.'”