Strength On the Horizon

 The summit of Monadnock emerges over the horizon in Nelson. 

Adventures to desired destinations, like a favorite get-away spot or in the arms of a loved one who lives far away, can be heart-pumping and filled with anticipation and wonder. And then there are those days and even seasons of adventures to desired destinations of another kind—a personal goal yet to be conquered, a vision or dream yet to be fulfilled, a not-yet answer to an oft-uttered if not desperate prayer—that can seem like nothing in front of you but miles and miles of nothing but miles and miles.

"When are we going be there?" Even the best and strongest and most youthfully fit, as Isaiah writes, can grow weary from the journey.

On many days in that kind of not-yet-there adventure, inner resolve kicks in: "I've come too far; there is no turning back now." But that kind of fuel only goes so far. Then what? Like ancient Israel, the response can seem silly at first but it can also prove powerfully simple: a more important resolve to take our eyeball stare out of the miles-and-miles of seemingly endless horizon and choosing instead to find strength by looking up, gazing at, or even climbing one of God's most energizing type-and-shadow creations...

“I will lift up my eyes to the mountains. Where will my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, Who made heaven and earth. He will not let your feet go out from under you. He Who watches over you will not sleep.”—Psalm 121:1-3

Around these parts, it's a 24/7 open invitation. The hills and the mountains are magnetic attractions for just about everyone, perhaps because we can sense deep inside that their beauty is more than earth-skin deep. Like everything else God has created, they contain His deeply embedded fingerprint, His DNA, and He longs that all would see it, touch it, grasp it. Grasp Him. Because in a sense, the hills and mountains are displaying God's unshakeable character, reminding any and all who would look Up of His incomparable strength, faithfulness, and jaw-dropping beauty that can help the traveler on life's journey to keep going...no matter how many miles-and-miles of "not yet" are ahead.

Because whether we see it or feel it now or not, Someone greater has the perfect road map. No Siri necessary. And if there are no hills or mountains nearby, it's good to know that God still speaks to us everywhere we go through all that He has made. How often have we felt a certain God-speaking assurance about His hugeness that comes when surrounded only by huge open fields or smooth-as-glass lakes, or that unmistakable yet mysterious sense of "God's got this" majesty, power, and faithfulness when standing at the ocean's edge far removed from the gum-drop hills and 4,000-footers. His deeply embedded fingerprints are everywhere we look, if only we will.

Even so, the mountains and hills seem to speak with a different Voice. Their uniquely strengthening presence silently shout:

"Look Up. I Am faithful.

I Am not going anywhere.

I Am your God who is always there for you

And here for you,

Warm daylight or cold blackness of night;

Sunny or stormy weather

And perhaps most especially

In the fog...

Looking southeast from Mount Washington summit.

...When you can't...see...a thing.

But fear not, I can see behind you, beside you, and far ahead of you.

I Am...Solid.

I Am...Unchanging.

I Am...Immovable.

I Am...Unshakable.

I Am...Majestic.

I Am...Filled with unique facets of unspeakable beauty and delight,

No matter which angle you look up.

And when the sunset dances around just right, it's not just camera-worthy...

 Monadnock at sunset, from Old Sharon Road.

...It's declaring:

I AM the Glory, and the lifter of your head."

Blessed indeed are all who, along life's wonderful and sometimes crazy adventures, learn to "head for the hills" and remember to lift up eyes, breath, and heartbeat.

"These mountains, which have seen untold sunrises, long to thunder praise but stand reverent, silent so that man's weak praise should be given God's attention."

—Donald Miller, "Through Painted Deserts"

Walking in Peace

A late fall afternoon along the Wapack Trail.

When having "one of those days" or "one of those weeks"
When answers to prayer don't seem to be happening fast enough
Or the way you had hoped

When you are forced to slow down when you'd rather go fast...

And even on those days and weeks when all is right and good

When it's easy to trust in your own wits

When it's too easy to say, "I've got this"...
It is always wise, and never crazy, to talk to yourself

About two simple things:

"Put your hope in the LORD.

Travel steadily along His path."

- Psalm 37:34, NLT

This, too, is worship.

"The soul that loves God has its rest in God and God alone. In all the paths that men walk in the world, they do not attain peace until they draw nigh to hope in God." 

- Isaac of Ninevah, early Church mystic

Look Up and Live

Right after sunrise, coast of Maine.

"I see the world in light, I see the world in wonder

I see the world in life, bursting in living color

I see the world Your way, and I'm walking in the Light."

("Wonder," by Joel Houston, Matt Crocker, and Brooke Fraser)

What is it about standing at the ocean’s shore and never being bored by looking out onto the vast expanse and standing in refreshing awe? Is it the crash of the waves, the cleansing aroma?

What is it about looking up at the stars on a clear night and becoming frozen in your tracks with a stiff neck and dropped jaw? Is it the stars? The moon?

What is it about getting to the top of a favorite mountain peak and staring out onto the same view time after time after time and yet feeling your eyes lock in on the wonder? Is it the distant hills, the colorful nearby trees, or the masterpiece that they paint when they are together?

It might be all of that and more, but it might be one thing more that tops them all: The sky. When we look Up, we get the right perspective...

The heavens proclaim the glory of God.

    The skies display his craftsmanship.

Day after day they continue to speak;

    night after night they make him known.

They speak without a sound or word;

    their voice is never heard.

Yet their message has gone throughout the earth,

    and their words to all the world.

—Psalm 19:1-4, NLT

The skies, the heavens, are forever speaking in expanse, in color, in wonder—all of it reflecting the glory of God on the familiar, on what we see every day or in our favorite places. The lighting, and the time of day of that lighting, the angle through clouds or mist, all send new, jaw-dropping messages that the Creator of the universe loves painting awesome pictures day and night, and no two ever, ever look the same!

And He does so especially to remind us how He lovingly and enthusiastically created each one of us, too, and that like the patterns in the heavens, all are unique and fearfully and wonderfully made: "...we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things He planned for us long ago." (Ephesians 2:10, NLT)

And He does so to capture our hearts and attention once again, to “take the world but give me Jesus,” to see all that is good and beautiful and amazing and nothing-is-impossible comes from His Word and hand.

And He does so (in the very same Psalm) to daily remind each of His children that we, too, are created to be reflectors and messengers with pictures of goodness to carry into the store, the backyard barbecue, even the potentially contentious meeting...

May the words of my mouth

and the meditation of my heart

be pleasing to You,

O Lord, my rock and my Redeemer.

—Psalm 19:14

Maybe not all, but a lot of our life’s mission in this Great Adventure hinges on these prayer words of Psalm 19. Keep looking Up....Selah

[Originally published March 2018]

Paddling In the Thunderous Silence

Putting in at sunset at MacDowell Lake.

"It's when you take two words that are totally the opposite and you jam 'em together....like military intelligence, dark victory...thunderous silence...."

― Danny DeVito in "Renaissance Man"

The Sons of Korah who penned the lyrics to Psalm 46 got it long before we, or Danny DeVito, ever did―this walk of following in Jesus' footsteps is an oxymoron of endless and sometimes chaotic noise bubbling over a deep current of perfect peace. The same psalm that inspired one of the most famous, most majestic, and most floor-rattling hymns of our faith ― "A Mighty Fortress Is Our God"―also whispers "be still, and know that I am God." Psalm 46 is not either/or, but both. It is not trying to avoid or deny the reality of the former to escape to the latter, but rather God gripping us by the hand as if to assure us, "I AM with you in the midst of it all."

Life with the King of the universe is a wonderful "thunderous silence." If only we will look for it. If only we will take the time. If only we will look for Him. But how?

"That same day, Jesus left the house and went to sit by the sea."

―Matthew 13:1, The Voice

On the heels of a day filled with going from place to place, surrounded by people of all walks of life making requests, and demands, and challenges, and questions, and accusations, and all the while being hemmed in by so many people in great need and in impossible situations looking for answers or simply just a glimmer of hope, Jesus pursued the stillness of His Father's presence by, it would seem, slipping out to someplace quiet without anyone noticing.

With one little three-letter word, Jesus our example lives out the oxymoron of life that is Psalm 46. "Sit." Most of the time, when we go to our favorite get-away place, we're still moving when we get there. We want to walk, or hike, or jog, or restlessly go to this vantage point and then the next. All the while realizing that just because we are at our favorite place doesn't mean that the noise has gone away. Besides, some of the most thunderous noises are the ones that keep playing in our heads: "do this, you forgot that, what about this?, and what if?... and you really should have....and what a mess―how is this every going to sort itself out-ok-let-me-play-out-all-the-scenarios-and-put-it-on-repeat."

And in that one little three-letter word, Jesus seems to to be modeling:

Recharge your batteries and get a renewed Heavenly perspective.

Stop moving, even if your brain is at full tilt.

Stop completely.

Be still.

Breathe deeply.

Look up and see His majesty and presence all around you once more.

And while you're at it, don't forget to confess with your mouth what your brain knows is true but quickly forgets.

The beauty of what is known as flat water kayaking is that it forces you to stop moving your feet even while your brain is racing―when it is too busy being busy, a sort of multi-topic mental vertigo. And when all that internal noise rages, the launch from shoreline can provide a stunning counterattack. One evening not long ago, the lake was so calm, so still, so smooth as glass, it seemed like splashing the oars to move forward would be akin to being that one person who has a coughing spell in the midst of holy-hush moment of a play or concert...

What would Jesus do? What did Jesus do?

..."Sit."And so I sat. And just floated rather aimlessly, occasionally carefully dipping a paddle into the water as though I were tip-toeing. It was still rather noisy inside, but soon, the thunderous silence began to invade. Soon the multi-topic mental vertigo was drowned out by the sound of...silence. Not a breeze. Not a distant airplane or traffic. Even the birds flying around and about seemed to be on mute in reverence.

And then, as I had done a few times before but not enough lately, I pulled out my phone's bible app and didn't just think-read but broke the thunderous silence by doing something which seems a bit weird and awkward: confessing with my mouth what is True. Out loud. It seemed to echo around the lake:

“God is our shelter and our strength.

    When troubles seem near, God is nearer, and He’s ready to help.

So why run and hide?

No fear, no pacing, no biting fingernails.

    When the earth spins out of control, we are sure and fearless.

    When mountains crumble and the waters run wild, we are sure and fearless.

Even in heavy winds and huge waves,

    or as mountains shake, we are sure and fearless….

“Be still, be calm, see, and understand I am the True God.

    I am honored among all the nations.

    I am honored over all the earth.”

You know the Eternal, the Commander of heavenly armies, surrounds us and protects us;

    the True God of Jacob is our shelter, close to His heart.”

(Psalm 46: 1-3; 10-11)

Even in the silence, the noise inside didn't suddenly disappear; the realities of dilemmas and decisions and tough situations remained. But what was noticeable was this: they were put in their place, drowned out by a peace that passes all understanding. And all Creation praised the moment: The thunderous silence was broken by the distant call of an owl, and then of a loon, and then of a beaver trying to quietly sneak by without being noticed. And then most amazingly, as though God Himself was smiling through this moment of the rhythms of grace, I looked to the western sky and saw that great hymn and the last verse of Psalm 46 as a painting: a glorious mighty fortress in the clouds....

... Woah! A painting that spoke blessed assurance in the wonderful thunderous silence, "I've got you, and I've got this noise. And I always have. And I always will."

[Originally published summer of 2017]

Paying Attention

Along the Marginal Way, Ogunquit, ME

 “But there is only one thing that is essential. Miryam [Mary] has chosen the right thing, and it won’t be taken away from her.”—Luke 10:42, Complete Jewish Bible

It seems that many of our dreams are just mixed up gobbledygook that’s easily forgotten, but then there are those that seem to say “pay attention to this.” The other night, I remember observing a long list of what seemed to be great ideas and thoughts, waiting for a winner to be selected as on a talent show. There were some obvious contenders and personal favorites, but when the winner was selected, everyone (myself included) was stunned.

“Wait, what? Who?” And way down this very long list, the winner’s name was found: “Mary.” Yes, that Mary. I sensed many around me were shaking their heads in unbelief. But in my dream, the word “Mary” seemed to jump off the list and pass right before my eyes… “Pay attention to this.”

The story of Mary and Martha in Luke 10:38-42  is one of the most polarizing for believers. I know I have a love-hate relationship with it. At first glance, the Home Depot “do-ers” (and that would be most of us born in the USA) who are wired more like Martha think Jesus is favoring the more contemplative Mary. We can get a bit defensive and try to counter with Paul’s words that “we are God’s workmanship created to do good works…that we should walk in them.” (Ephesians 2:10). Yeah!…Also true, but when Jesus speaks, it is best to follow the Leader. What might He be really saying?

A closer look at this story seems to indicate that it is not as it first appears—it’s not really about do-ers vs. contemplative personalities. After all, no one ever did as much amazing stuff as Jesus did. Instead, if we can get past the defensiveness, it seems to be about priorities and dealing with all the distractions of life that would try to get in the way of the one thing that really matters.

And Jesus is quite clear in identifying that greatest priority of them all: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your passion and prayer and intelligence.’ This is the most important, the first on any list. There is a second to set alongside it: ‘Love others as well as you love yourself.’ These two commands are pegs; everything in God’s Law and the Prophets hangs from them.” (Matthew 22:37, Message).

It is hard to do that—wait, it is impossible to do that—when we’re distracted. It is even hard to do that when we’re busy doing God-busy things. Doing the stuff is still important—it’s gotta get done—but before lifting a finger or getting distracted by what needs to be done, it would seem Jesus is saying to Martha and all of us down through the ages that no matter how busy we are or what needs to get done, the best and first move is always to take our cue from Mary and make sitting at the feet of Jesus (the position of a disciple) our priority. In case there are any doubts, it gets no clearer than this:

…“I am the Vine and you are the branches. Get your life from Me. THEN I will live in you and you will give much fruit. You can do nothing without Me.”

—John 15:5, NLV

Mary's is the position of the heart of worship—worship that is more than 20 minutes of singing, or going to church every Sunday but of one who seeks to trust and obey Jesus’ greatest commandment of them all, whether we are more Home Depot-inclined or contemplative. Because this is the position for our life’s purpose, effectiveness and fruitfulness, and its launching pad for becoming better reflectors of Jesus to those around us. We keep trying to look elsewhere, but it is found only here, and nowhere else…and deep down inside, our hearts know it and even long for it. It is something that needs frequent recalibrating, and thus sometimes the Lord sends us crazy dreams as a reminder, but it is still the right and only position that matters.

Because the story of Mary and Martha and Jesus and all the rest of them really comes down to this:

"I Am looking for a people that will simply pay attention to Me.”

—Andy Byrd, from “Fire and Fragrance”

Selah…

That Name

 

(Photo: Priscilla du Preez @unsplash.com)

There is Fred Flintstone, and Fred Rogers. And around these parts, there’s this funny fellow named Fred Marple. But as a little kid, I knew that there was only one Fred who really mattered—the one who I could run to, who could pick me up, who alone could help in my time of need. Fred was my dad’s name and I knew there was no other Fred like him. There was something about that name.

Throughout history, and even today, like many people named Fred, many men have also been named Jesus. The apostle Paul commends one for his friendship and loyalty as “Jesus, who is called Justus.” (Colossians 4:1). In Spanish-speaking countries, Jesus is a popular name to be given baby boys and pronounced “hey-ZOOS.” And in contemporary culture, the Greek root name for Jesus—Joshua—is one of the most popular of all guy names.

But there is no power in just having the name Jesus. The power is in who He alone is. Not just another person named Jesus but Jesus the Christ—the Messiah, the Savior of the world, God’s one and only deliverer of salvation. Like my dad, there is none other like this Jesus. None. In fact, when the name Jesus of Nazareth was spoken during His time on earth, or when this particular Jesus was identified, as Peter confessed, “the Christ, the Son of the living God,” the whole world shook in awe and fear and wonder and love, and even…“At the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of those in heaven, and of those on earth…” (Philippians 2:10)

You wonder why you wince or feel something righteously angry entwined with an unexplainable rush of Love whenever someone around you uses that Name in vain? It is not human backlash. It is the Holy Spirit bearing witness within us that this Jesus of whom they are swearing is not just any Jesus but our Savior’s Holy name and there is no Jesus like Him. "You have no idea what you're saying!" There’s just something about that Name!

…On the night Jesus Christ was betrayed, when fear, uncertainty and sorrow gripped the disciples, when they heard their closest Friend in such prayerful agony that He sweat drops of blood, it must have felt like their whole world was spinning out of control. But then a shocking moment as the religious leaders’ soldiers, led by Judas the betrayer, approached and said they were looking for Jesus of Nazareth:

“When Jesus said ‘I AM he,’ they drew back and fell to the ground.” (John 18:6).

Even when it all seemed bleakest in Gethsemane, all authority still belonged to that Name above all names, because as He had already declared: “My life cannot be taken away by anybody else; I AM giving it of My own free will. My authority allows Me to give My life and to take it again. All this has been commanded by My Father.” (John 10:18) No other man named Jesus had every claimed that and never will...

Why does any of that matter today?

...Because no matter how many times someone uses Jesus’ name in vain, or no matter how crazy life looks around us at any given moment, nothing ever has or ever will have authority over that Name above all names, Jesus Christ. And that means no matter what, we can always trust in, declare, sing and confidently pray that Name, believing that every time we do so, we will be strengthened within knowing that all authority still belongs to Jesus the Christ alone, just as it did in that darkest of nights in the garden of Gethsemane. No other Jesus or Joshua or Fred can ever say or do that.

There’s something about that Name!…and He’s still got the whole world in His hands.

A Rustic Symphony

“The hopes and fears of all the years are met in Thee…”—Phillips Brooks

Every night on my way home from work at this time of year, I used to pass a festive lawn display in Goffstown that was the ultimate in diversity and inclusion. One year, at the center of it all was the traditional Nativity scene of Jesus in the manger with Mary and Joseph. But then they were surrounded by Santa and his sleigh, Rudolph, angels, The Grinch, the wise men, elves, old-fashioned carolers, sheep, Frosty, the obligatory pink flamingo lawn ornament, and Kevin from Home Alone.

Invariably, at the end of the day, I needed that smile or good laugh as I drove by. It reminded me to leave the workday behind and not to take everything so seriously. “Lighten up, exhale, and be grateful for life and breath.”

That lawn display is in stark contrast to the simplicity of the one at home under the tree, where all of the pieces are fixed in place, with the exception of the removable angel over the manger who the kids named “Gloria.” I like that Gloria is removable. It reminds me that angels and God’s presence go wherever I go.

I also like how the scene is either before or after the visit of the shepherds. Silent night. I like how unlike many Nativity scenes, there are no wise men with their camels and unusual gifts; as it should be, since they apparently didn’t arrive on the scene until several months (or years?) later.

I like how there is only one animal — the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world — resting at Jesus’ feet.

I like the sense of the thunderous silence and a million thoughts that must have been running through Mary’s and Joseph’s heads in this rustic atmosphere that fueled a gigantic, symphonic celebration in Heaven.

I like that Mary is on her knees with hands outstretched, maybe pondering in her heart the hopeful words of the angel: “You will give birth to a son and you are to give him the name Jesus. He will be great and be called the Son of the Most High.” (Luke 1:31-32). And Joseph with his hand over his heart, perhaps remembering the fear of hearing Mary’s pregnancy news and pondering divorce so she wouldn’t have to face public disgrace (Matthew 1:19), and yet grateful beyond words that he got the same message from the angel as Mary: “Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.” (Matthew 1:21-22)

"What child IS this?!"

And even Jesus, with tiny hands upraised. A baby’s cry? No doubt... the Word became flesh, after all. But maybe also this promise of comfort and joy: ”Here I am. I have come to do Your will.” (Hebrews 10:9)

Most of all, I like this different nativity that brings a different kind of smile, realizing that each character in it is worshiping, and remembering that worship and trust in the everlasting God means it’s not contingent upon being in a good mood or when you have everything figured out, but just as needed and appropriate and powerful in the midst of life’s questions and uncertainties. Maybe more so.

I still enjoy a belly laugh from things like that crazy holiday display. But just like Mary and Joseph with their hopes and fears, the old Nativity under my tree is a reminder that it’s OK to admit that some things are beyond figuring out, that Christmas means it’s good and healthy to be real before God, to embrace the mystery of all mysteries, to believe once more, to sing “Glory in the highest!” with Gloria the goes-everywhere angel...and to live to worship in every season, long after the tree comes down and the decorations get boxed up for another year.

"We live in a world full of sin and hurt and sadness and confusion; the gospel answers all of it, but it doesn't twinkle it away like pixie dust...The hope of the gospel is not clarity in our confusion, but the knowledge that God is at work in spite of the fact that we don't understand what He is up to."  

Jonathan Rogers, review of Andrew Peterson's 'Light For the Lost Boy’

Updated from original, 12-22-19

Show Me

Cunningham Pond, fall 2016

Some mornings, you wake up with overwhelming brain clutter.

A night of restless sleep filled with multiple bizarre dreams that had no connection to one another.

“Turn your pillow over,” mom used to say.

But on these kind of nights, the movies keep playing, just on a different channel.

It is a relief to wake up, even if very early in the morning.

If you’ve been there, you know.

Coffee helps but it is hard to focus on anything after all of that.

It would be easy to start the day in a tailspin and be a bummer to all around you…if you let it.

Sometimes, a better decision is to simply turn on music that will soothe the soul, as David’s harp did for Saul, and which can counter the bizarreness of the night…

…And soon, a prompting out of nowhere: “Psalm 25.”

“I don’t even think I know what that one is.” More dream craziness?

Until you turn and your eyes fall upon this counterattack to the night’s bizarreness:

Show me Your ways, Lord, teach me Your paths.

Guide me in Your truth and teach me, for You are God my Savior, and my hope is in You all day long.—Psalm 25:4-5

Your. You. Hope. All…day…long. 

Just camp out there for a few minutes.

The atmosphere is changing now.

Who can explain how that happens?

One translation answers:  “for You are my God, my Savior—Helper. Victor.”

Over the brain clutter, and so much more.

And as you read these words over one more time, a song “randomly” shows up on the playlist.

Wait. No way. How can this be?…

“Holy! There is no one like You,

There is none beside You.

Open up my eyes in wonder.

And show me who You are

And fill me with Your Love

And lead me in Your Love to those around me.”

Even in the overwhelming brain or any other kind of clutter, it was a morning-after reminder that God’s promises never fail:

“…with a deep longing you will seek Me and require Me as a vital necessity, and you will find Me when you search for Me with all your heart.”—Jeremiah 29:13, Amplified

Selah…

Inside Out

 “The time is coming when we will no longer be concerned about whether to worship the Father here or in Jerusalem. For it’s not where we worship that counts, but how we worship—is our worship spiritual and real?”—John 4:21, Living Bible 

Something wonderful happened Friday night. People were gathered to worship and we had come to the conclusion and “good night” of it all, or so we thought. There was one last and unplanned song. And when it was over, there was a holy hush in the place. No one was rushing to the door even though it was getting late. The only other time I remember that happening was at a worship conference several years ago when at the conclusion and “good night,” the leader remembered that some worship dancers had been forgotten, and so he invited them up. And when it was over, there was unrehearsed, spontaneous clapping for nearly eight minutes as in a declaration smashing of granite, from every generation in the room. No one was rushing to the door even though it was late.

Mysterious! And yet in both settings, the call seemed to be the same: “Be the Church. Worship Me deeply here, and by all means, worship Me deeply as you head out those doors.” We like to put God and God things in boxes. Jesus says, as He did to the woman at the well in John 4, worship is not confined to a building but is meant to be carried with us wherever we go. Worship is inside and it is outside. It is inside-out. And for a purpose beyond “just singing”, as the video clip at the end illustrates.

Not coincidentally this week, I came across this awakening, re-orienting journal entry from four summers ago..

…“My church, like any church, is far from perfect, because my church, like any church is not a building at all but a bunch of people. And every one of us, saved by Grace or still seeking, walks with a limp of one kind or another. We can’t help but bring it with us every time we walk through the doors, and inevitably the pain from the limp comes out from time to time…words are said which come out wrong and are received even worse, the spirit of offense rolls in, and so the people get distracted from the vision and purpose for being the Church.

It’s why many on the outside looking in often say, “the church is just a bunch of hypocrites.” No, just as it has been from the beginning, the church is filled with real and very imperfect humans seeking to follow a real and very perfect Savior. The adversary tries to use the distractions and offenses to sidetrack and destroy. Jesus uses them to strengthen as iron sharpens iron, to become stronger salt and light people of individual personalities and differences of opinions and likes because that is what the world is like and where the Church is sent—and distractions and all, He still says “…I will build my Church and the gates of hell will not prevail against it.”

Because even as iron is sharpening iron, and everyone is desperately looking to Jesus as their example to press through and love and show grace, grace, grace, the adversary is getting kicked in the teeth: There is continual new Life—someone desperately seeking finally says “yes, Lord!,” and several someones of every generation are immersed in a lake baptism. And there are miraculous testimonies of God’s goodness through thick and thin that only God could do and that encourage us to hold on to our faith. And just about every day, scattered in several locations, fervent prayer and tireless service are going on—often, where no one sees and applauds but where Jesus smiles and empowers and answers.

I suppose it is this way in many imperfect Christ-one churches. And truth be told, none of them are as amazing and perfect as their social media hype would like you to believe. We are all a beautiful mess. But the Kingdom is advancing in stealth fashion nevertheless! And through all the messiness, I have found that other than the Gospel being preached and walked out, one thing really matters, something I experienced the first day I walked into our building that is called church—an overwhelming, can’t really put your finger on it sense of peace where your only words are: “Jesus is worshiped here, and His presence is welcome here. I feel like I’m home.” You know it in strange ways, like feeling the tension in your shoulders suddenly go limp.

“I wish that we might get back to worship again. Then when people come into the church, they will instantly sense that they have come among holy people—God’s people. They can testify, ‘of a truth, God is in this place!’”—A.W. Tozer

Sure, some gatherings are more engaged than others, but I can think of no better place to be, because in that environment of united worship by us bunch of individuals walking with limps, whether in hymns from a hymnal or new songs projected on a screen, Jesus is made huge again in our squinty eyes and heavy hearts, and faith is stirred, and you are reminded once more that with God all things are possible, and that this is why the Church is God’s wonderfully messy idea, and that a people who worship together and especially with no one else around throughout the week can make all the difference in the world, from the inside out…”

“…Sing loud when you can; stop and let the words and joy wash over you when you can't. Take the long drive. Those who do return to meeting with God again in worship, choosing to fill homes and cars and lives with worship music that lifts them in orientation to Jesus for a good, sustained long while, even if it's just running in the background, have told me they feel like someone who's just received a cool drink of water when they didn't realize how thirsty they had become. Don't lose this; it's life and help and strength because the Spirit meets us in it.”—Dan Wilt, "Engage in Worship Again"