The Focus in Faith

Peter turned and saw that the disciple whom Jesus loved was following them. (This was the one who had leaned back against Jesus at the supper and had said, ‘Lord, who is going to betray you.’ When Peter saw him, he asked, ‘Lord, what about him?’ Jesus answered, ‘If I want him to remain alive until I return, what is that to you? You must follow me.’

John 21:20-22

Peter was literally brought back into the fold of Jesus, the most intimate and vulnerable of recommitments, before he quickly turned his focus to the other disciple John. Peter was ready to be called into deep responsibility — to feed the sheep — yet when he got word of how he was going to die, he needed to turn his focus elsewhere and get away from whatever feelings he was having in the moment. Fear? Insecurity? Unworthiness?

We may be down for Jesus’ purpose in our lives until we experience the depths of intimacy and specificity it has on each of us. It is so exposing and vulnerable, that it can push us to quickly turn the focus away from our hearts. It can sound so intense and unreal that we need to hear what it’s going to be like for others, to simply not feel alone in our fears or inadequacies.

When do you catch yourself thinking, what about them? When do you fall prey to comparison and getting wrapped up in where others will end up? When something feels unfair and overwhelming, how do you cope? Do you address those feelings or do you look out and point the finger at things/people that are not even part of your issue?

I pray you know that God has a special and particular calling for your life. If you know this, then you might be scared. You might have all kinds of feelings. Come back to the intimacy of God, to his gentleness and continual mercies. Focus on your beautiful journey. Don’t let the devil make you feel small or bitter for having a purpose and place that is hard and uncomfortable. That place is where you require the most faith and focus.

CBG: Pruning

I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinedresser. Every branch in me that does not bear fruit he takes away, and every branch that does bear fruit he prunes, that it may bear more fruit. Already you are clean because of the word that I have spoken to you. Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me. I am the vine, you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing. If anyone does not abide in me he is thrown away like a branch and withers; and the branches are gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned. If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. By this my Father is glorified, that you bear much fruit and so prove to be my disciples. As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Abide in my love. If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and abide in his love. These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full.

John 15:1-11

When you bear fruit, you will be pruned. Abiding in God, abiding in love, abiding in a value system are not easy. Underlying this season of surrender and pause is a gardening ecosystem. Turning the soil so parts that have been hidden are in the light. Removing parasites and dead materials that harm or do not belong. Planting new seeds with anticipation of their blooming. As a non-gardener, I experience impatience in this process. Impatience and all, we are several weeks in, so there is evidence of a before and after. Go and look at your garden.

  1. What have you surrendered that you do not miss?
  2. What have you lost that remains unfilled?
  3. What aches and longings in your heart that once buried are revealed?
  4. Where do you want more patience?
  5. What new discoveries about yourself, others and God have you made whether today, this week or this season?

xx

Day 53: The Wilderness Years

Deuteronomy 1-3; Psalm 53

What if your wilderness years took 40 years? Then it can’t be just be about the destination. What? You’re supposed to just squander 40 years for this future point. I hate platitudes. I hate those, it’s about the journey, not the destination. But what if there is actually something to this dumb cliche? That if we allow ourselves to be present and open to the journey, each moment can be the destination. If we think of the wilderness as living, every night is a finding of home, wherever we land. If we think of the obstacles and the sorrows and the WTF moments as markers in a life schedule that helps us to see all the ways we grow, can it all matter?

Usually we can only say the wilderness was worthwhile when we get to the goal. How can we find each moment in this dark shithole somewhat beautiful? We need to redefine shithole. We need to reimagine beauty. We need to expand getting there.