Silence can be pretty elusive in our modern world and yet it is vital for our souls to survive and thrive in this world. St. John of the Cross (16th century) wrote that “Silence is God’s first language.” Why would silence be God’s native tongue? Because silence is the language of intimacy. Those who are close can sit and just “be” together. Those who are intimate can just “know” what the other person is thinking and feeling without words. God has existed for all eternity in relationship with Himself (Father, Son, and Spirit) and He desires to share that love with His creation. He desires to just “be” with us in silence because it is intimate and communicates a love that is simply present.

Psalm 62:5 is a challenge to our souls: “For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence, for my hope is from him.” Our sense of hope is nurtured in silence. Isaiah 30:15 encourages that: “in quietness and in trust shall be your strength.” Our strength is developed as we are quiet. In our world of words and noise, our souls can become depleted by the constant need to perform and respond and react. Silence refreshes us in God’s love, reminding us that He is the ground of our being.

Teresa of Calcutta said the following about cultivating a true sense of silence that goes beyond outer silence to a true inner silence:

To make possible true inner silence, practice:

Silence of the eyes, by seeking always the beauty and goodness of God everywhere, and closing them to the faults of others and to all that is sinful and disturbing to the soul.

Silence of the ears, by listening always to the voice of God and to the cry of the poor and the needy, and closing them to all other voices that come from fallen human nature, such as gossip, tale bearing, and uncharitable words.

Silence of the tongue, by praising God and speaking the life-giving Word of God that is the truth, that enlightens and inspires, brings peace, hope, and joy; and by refraining from self-defense and every word that causes darkness, turmoil, pain, and death.

Silence of the mind, by opening it to the truth and knowledge of God in prayer and contemplation, like Mary who pondered the marvels of the Lord in her heart, and by closing it to all untruths, distractions, destructive thoughts, rash judgments, false suspicions of others, vengeful thoughts, and desires.

Silence of the heart, by loving God with our heart, soul, mind, and strength; loving one another as God loves; and avoiding all selfishness, hatred, envy, jealousy, and greed.

How will you cultivate silence in your life today? Take a moment and be silent before Him … sit and be still in your soul, releasing any thoughts that surface to His care. Ask Him which of these “silences” you might practice today. Sit and listen. Then, trustingly move forward with your day.

Cultivating silence that rests in God’s love doesn’t come easily or quickly. Silence is a discipline that develops and grows over time. Take 10-20 minutes each day to simply be quiet before Him … intending to rest in Him and listen to His quiet impressions upon your heart. Don’t worry about distracting thoughts … simply use each one as an opportunity to trust Him as you let go of worrying or obsessing or controlling that thought/idea.

“Shape up!” “Get it together!” “Turn your life around!” “Stop!” Whatever the specific statement might be, we frequently hear messages that are directed toward our behavior. And, the result is inevitably the same … we feel either guilt over our inadequacies or we get pumped up into thinking that we can do it (whatever “it” is). Both responses leave us in the kingdom of self rather than the kingdom of God.

One of the fundamental miscalculations one can make it to think that God’s primary concern is for us to behave properly. And/or, we might also believe that the essence of Godly living is to do things for God. However, as Dwight Edwards shares in his book, Revolution Within:

“God’s first calling on our lives is not usefulness. It is intimacy. Like the first disciples, Christ’s premier purpose for our lives is for us to be “with Him”. Secondarily, very secondarily; He then sends us “out to” minister. How easily we lose sight of this!”

Good behavior is not the point. Doing things for God is not the point. We get mixed up on this distinction because of a misunderstanding of the nature of sin. Sin is not doing bad things. Sin is living independently of God. We were created to live in dependent, moment by moment connection with God. Sin entered into the world, not when Eve ate the fruit in the Garden of Eden, but when that dependent, trust in God was broken. This is why “sin” is said to have entered into the world through Adam. (cf. Romans 5:12) Rather than continuing to trust God together, Adam remained silent when Eve took the fruit. His silence was the behavior that resulted from breaking into independence.

Oswald Chambers notes: “Sin is a fundamental relationship— it is not wrong doing, but wrong being— it is deliberate and determined independence from God. The Christian faith bases everything on the extreme, self-confident nature of sin. Other faiths deal with sins— the Bible alone deals with sin. The first thing Jesus Christ confronted in people was the heredity of sin, and it is because we have ignored this in our presentation of the gospel that the message of the gospel has lost its sting and its explosive power.”

Sins (behaviors) are the fruit or result of living independently of God. Righteousness is living in right relationship with God, or dependence upon Him. Righteous actions are the result of living dependently upon God, in moment by moment communion.

What makes something righteous or sinful? The heart from which it is done. I can tell you that I love you and complement you about how wonderful you are, and that may seem like a great thing to do. However, if I am doing that because I am trying to manipulate you to get something I want, it is not righteous but sinful.

So, why do we so often look to good behavior as the measure of our existence? Quite simply, behavior is manageable and definable. If behavior is the point, then we can remain in control of our lives. We still call the shots. If we don’t agree with God, we can ask for forgiveness later. And, even if we can’t really manage behavior, we can make it appear so.

Sin is about relationship. So is righteousness. Relationship with God is not manageable or definable and sometimes it is just plain mysterious. The very fact that we like to be independent is the reason that we are drawn to behavior rather than intimacy with God. We want answers and formulas and predictability. Relationship offers none of those things. And yet, it is relationship for which we were created.

Another reason, we might be more drawn to behavior is because we have a tendency to be impatient. Relationship takes time and develops fruit over time. Relationship demands all of us, not just our behavior. A. W. Tozer suggested that:

“One marked difference between the faith of our fathers as conceived by the fathers and the same faith as understood and lived by their children is that the fathers were concerned with the root of the matter, while their present-day descendants seem concerned only with the fruit … we demand the fruit immediately even though the root may be weak and knobby or missing altogether. Impatient Christians today explain away the simple beliefs of the saints of other days and smile off their serious-minded approach to God and sacred things … we’ll imitate their fruit without accepting their theology or inconveniencing ourselves too greatly by adopting their all-or-nothing attitude toward religion.” (The Root of the Righteous)

True righteousness (dependent relationship with God) grows over time and is often misunderstood. Several years ago I bought a fruit tree at a local nursery that was on sale for $5. It was a pitiful looking tree that was in no shape for bearing fruit, but I planted it and began to nurture it so that it could “take root.” I remember a friend coming over for dinner and sarcastically asking who planted the “Charlie Brown Christmas Tree” in our yard. It took time but just 5 years later, the tree produced so much fruit that we were giving buckets away to friends. If I had merely focused on the behavior of the plant in those first years, I would have been discouraged and might have even gotten rid of it. However, I pruned it (cf. John 15:2), watered it, and joyfully discovered that it bore fruit when the time was right.

Mystical writer Pierre Teilhard de Chardin suggests patience as well … “Above all else, trust the slow work of God. We are quite naturally impatient in everything to reach the end without delay. We should like to skip the intermediate stages. We are impatient  of being on the way to something unknown, something new. Only God could say what this new spirit gradually forming in you will be. Give our Lord the benefit that His hand is leading you, and accept the anxiety of feeling yourself in suspense, and incomplete.”

So, remember, God’s job is to change us and transform us and bear fruit in us. Our job is to remain connected to Him in relationship. And what is the essence of relationship but being together? God is with us. He is present. Are you remaining attentive and conscious of His presence in all things?

In the physical realm, an enlarged heart is a cause for concern. It can be life threatening. However, spiritually speaking, an enlarged heart is preferred and actually the pathway to life. The longest psalm of the Hebrew psalter is a beautiful acrostic poem about the Word of God. It expresses a love and a reverence for the Word of God because it leads one to know God and walk with Him and in His ways. It is in that context that we find an interesting statement:

             I will run in the way of your commandments when you enlarge my heart!  Psalm 119:32

The idea is that when our hearts are enlarged, we run after God’s commands. His commands are His ways, an expression of His loving character. And so, by extension, we are running after Him. In running, there is a sense of abandon. When we run after something, it involves using all of our available physical resources. The picture here is of running after God with all that we are … there is nothing withheld.

Running is a picture of freedom … the freedom to love God without any barriers and to love others deeply. Hebrews 12:1-2 paints this picture as well: “let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.”

Are you running? Does your heart feel big? Do you sense that deep capacity to trust God and love the unlovable? Or, does your heart too often feel small?

There are several things assumed in these words from Psalm 119. First, we can actually be small hearted. In fact, it would be fair to say that without God’s involvement, we will be small hearted. Second, a small heart can hold us back from a life of abandon to God and His ways.

What leads to having a small heart? Think of it this way … we are relational beings and when we experience hurt and disappointments, we have a tendency to protect our hearts. When we get hurt, we frequently make promises that we believe will protect us. For example, we promise that we will never be interpersonally vulnerable because of a betrayal that occurred. So, we erect these “walls” which we believe will protect but they simply isolates us and shrink our hearts. When we protect ourselves from others, we consequently protect ourselves from God as well. As an old friend used to say, “You can’t shut down just a part of your heart.” A wall is a wall.

The writer of Proverbs agrees with this sentiment in Proverbs 18:1, 10-11: Whoever isolates himself seeks his own desire; he breaks out against all sound judgment. The name of the Lord is a strong tower; the righteous man runs into it and is safe. A rich man’s wealth is his strong city and like a high wall in his imagination.

The Psalmist declares that it is God who enlarges the heart, who takes away those protective walls. So, how do we open ourselves to His transforming influence? How do we put ourselves in a place where we open ourselves to the expanding influence of the Spirit of God?

The verses in Psalm 119 which precede verse 32 share several insights about the posture of one who is opening themselves to God. First, the writer says “my soul clings to the dust” and “my soul melts with sorrow.” There is a recognition of his poverty of spirit … from both hurts done to him as well as the fragile nature of his interior life. This is expressed in the phrase: “when I told of my ways. Second, we read the words: “put false ways far from me.” Following the recognition of false ways is the relinquishing of those ways. Finally, we see a restfulness as the psalmist entrusts Himself to God’s word and His ways: “I will meditate,” “I set,” and “I cling.”

Let me suggest three things … they are simple and yet can lead us through the complexities that are often present in our hearts:

1. Recognize the walls. They are often most recognizable in the form of anxiety, insecurities, or the desire to control. What are the sorrows of your heart? What are the ways that you build walls? Are there promises that you made from childhood?
2. Relinquish the promises that led to the walls. Confess that these walls are not protecting you but isolating you.
3. Rest in the truth that He is enough. That He protects and leads and guides. We realize these truths as we meditate on Him and cling to Him. As we recognize and relinquish, there is a space that is opened in our hearts. It can feel lonely or empty but if we feel those things, that space becomes open for His love and grace.

Prayer exercise: prayerfully walk through these three elements. It is slow at first but can become a pattern that leads more quickly to resting in Him.

Over the summer, a well-known co-pastor of a huge church proclaimed in a church service: “When we obey God, we’re not doing it for God … we’re doing it for ourself. Because God takes pleasure when we are happy. Do good ‘cause God wants you to be happy. When you come to church, when you worship Him, you’re not doing it for God, really. You’re doing it for yourself because that is what makes God happy.”

The short video in which these words were preached became infamously viral and sparked lots of criticism. And, rightfully so. These words reveal a self-referenced, self-absorbed view of God and the world. Intuitively, not to mention Biblically, we know that love is “not about me.”

While the critique of these statements is valid, they merely reveal the “secret” that lies in our hearts: we all have a tendency toward being self-referencing, self-absorbed people in our approach to God and the world. This person simply said it out loud, normalized it, and encouraged people to live from that place.

I would humbly suggest that we need to make sure that we are looking at the log in our own eyes. (cf. Matthew 7:1-5) I humbly suggest this because I see this in my life and desire deeply to move progressively closer to genuine selflessness. I desire deeply to move away from simply looking at God as someone who can do something for me … such as fulfilling my dreams, healing my hurts, and making my life better. Certainly, love is about relating to someone for their benefit, not mine. In addition, as I once heard Larry Crabb say, “If God was committed to my comfort, He’s not doing a very good job. Maybe He’s committed to something else.”

What is that something else? What is it that God might be up to? Put simply, He is in “the business” of graciously liberating me from a prison of self-focus into a life of others-centered passion.

I admit that quite often my motive for doing what I do is about me, including my “worship” of God. I can be just like those who “honor me with their lips, but their heart is far from me.” (Mark 7:6) Why would someone “honor God with their lips” (i.e., worship Him/obey Him) if their heart is somewhere else? Because “the honoring” fulfills another purpose … a self-referenced purpose. It is easy to engage in “good things” because we like the feeling it gives us. To be honest, it feels good to have a good reputation and to do things for other people. So, we can easily fall into a trap of “honoring God” through our lifestyle and “acts” of obedience, but it’s not really about Him. Throughout the Gospels, the religious leaders of the day criticized Jesus for not keeping the Sabbath when He healed on that day.

So, what might it look like to have lips that honor but a heart that is far? I know what it looks like in my own life. It can look like refusing to even consider giving the person begging on the side of the road money without even having a conversation with God about it. It can look like singing a worship song but inwardly criticizing the way it’s being led.

We can criticize others but it might just be a way for us to not look at own hearts. We can look at a list of things and self-righteously proclaim that we don’t do any of those things without honestly coming up with our own list.

None of us are immune from seeing God as a means to our own ends. In Matthew 16, the Apostle Peter argued with Jesus when Jesus shared that He was going to be crucified. Jesus being killed would have been the end of the plans that Peter had for Jesus. We are similarly challenged to follow Jesus in living a crucified life … learning to die to our own agendas and plans.

Part of the challenge is that the American church, in particular, has believed that morality is more important than spirituality. The French philosopher and theologian, Jacques Ellul, wrote: “Christianity is not moral, it is spiritual.” When we pursue morality, we are pursuing the fruit of relationship with God (spirituality) instead of the root of the matter. When morality (actions) are the focus, the heart can go on with unchecked motives and desires. This can easily lead to a “lips honor but heart being far away” reality.

C. S. Lewis, in his classic Mere Christianity, said: “Christianity leads you on, out of morality, into something beyond. One has a glimpse of a country where they do not talk of those things, except perhaps as a joke. Every one there is filled full with what we shall call goodness as a mirror is filled with light. But they do not call it goodness. They do not call it anything. They are not thinking of it. They are too busy looking at the source from which it comes.”

The joy and the vision for life with Christ is a life where we become “unintentionally self-forgetful.” (James Houston, quoted by Tom Ashbrook in Mansions of the Heart) How amazing to stop thinking of myself as a result of being so enraptured by the glory of who God is!

So, how do we cultivate this kind of life? Where do we start? Let me share a couple of ideas …
1. Remind yourself daily of your propensity toward self-referential living and your opportunity to live in the joy of a self-forgetful life.
2. Become aware of your inner dialogue. Pay attention to your heart. What are you telling yourself throughout the day? Does it push you toward self or toward God?
3. Surrender, moment by moment, to God of the universe and His goodness … letting go of your agendas and choosing His. Seek dialogue with Him over the internal monologue that often prevails.

There’s a secret that many people carry with them: the feeling that “God is mad at me.” It might not be said in those words and it might not even be perceived as such, but it is there … lurking in the heart and shaping one’s approach to life and God Himself.

The secret might look like the perception that God gets upset when we sin and that we have to get Him back on our “good side” by doing something good. It might look like having to do good things (i.e., be obedient) for God to “bless us.” (the assumption here is that God withholds His blessing for those who have it together) A secret belief that God is mad at us could even be found in thinking that God loves me more, somehow, when I am doing good things. Finally, the secret might show up when we are going through tough circumstances and we wonder: “what did I do to deserve this?”

We live in a world where love is conditional. We get tastes of unconditional love here and there, and what a great taste when we get it! However, we carry with us, often buried deep past the level of awareness, the idea that love is something which we must earn. So, even though we hear phrases like unconditional love and understand the concept, our hearts frequently tell a different story and influence our perception of how to relate to others. No matter how wonderful our families of origin were, there was a certain level of dysfunction … it’s just the reality of living with imperfect people.

In addition, we were all born with an instinct (something called the “flesh” in the New Testament epistle of Galatians) to take control of life through our own efforts. So, our hearts often believe that relationships, and therefore love, are something that we earn through our good works.

So, our environment and our relationships set us up for the belief that love isn’t really unconditional … it has to be earned and then protected through our effort. The consequence, then, is that this shows up in our relationship with God as well. In Ephesians 3:14-15, we read: “For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth is named.” The idea is that the very concept of relationship and love and family comes from God. Relationships are made in His image. So, as we experience human relationships, we naturally project them onto God, but the reality is that we should allow God to define His way of relating to us.

When we read the Scriptures and learn that God has “commands”, it can be tempting to think that His commands are those ways that we keep Him happy. However, this would be simply reading our own experiences into God’s communication to us. God’s commands reveal His desires for us as His creation. His commands reveal our created design. He doesn’t demand, He desires. He desires for us to live in relationship with Him … to know Him and love Him and trust Him. We were created to be led by Him moment to moment in our lives. And the beauty is that these are our deepest desires as well.

God is not mad. He longs for us to know Him and trust Him and love Him in deep, moment by moment ways. Longing and anger are not the same thing. Because Jesus died on the cross for us, we are secure in God’s love and it has nothing to do with our own effort. Because the Spirit of God is made available to us because of Christ, we can walk through life in His power. That is freedom and rest and peace.

Take a few minutes today and ask God to show you places in your heart where you are doing life by your own effort and you will see an area of life where you are in bondage to the old story of conditional love. Surrender that area to His love and power. Ask God for the continued awareness of His presence and love and life as you walk through your day …

So, I am going to abandon the very advice the title of this post suggests for a few minutes to simply share a perspective. Then, I shall shut my trap and get back to listening.

When tragedy strikes, people want desperately to make sense of things. Whether it is a global concern with lots of people being hurt and killed or the sudden death of a beloved public figure, we turn to words to get a handle on things when words are woefully inadequate to address tragedy.

In general, we use words to control things, to define things, and to give ourselves hope and meaning. The problem is that words struggle to do those things at all in complex, deep tragic situations. It is frequently a false sense of control, shallow definitions, and false hope that emerges. All the while, we begin to feel “better” as we put things into nice neat boxes: here’s “why” this happened, here’s “what” we should do, etc. However, should feeling better and having resolution ever be our goal in the midst of tragedy and pain and suffering?

If you’ve ever been with someone right after they lost a loved one to a suicide or a murder or an accident, words are not helpful. Presence is what is needed. Listening is the currency of love in those situations. In talking with people who experienced tragedy, “friends” are often in short supply as people either give platitudes (i.e., words) or they just don’t show up because they don’t know what to say.

The reality is that we haven’t been trained or mentored in our modern world to just be quiet and listen. We live in a “telling” culture, not a “listening” culture, and our technology puts “telling” on hyper-drive. We get to tell and express “our words” to our heart’s content on social media, saying things that we might not say if we were sitting across the table from someone. It’s hard to live well in the midst of tragedy in this modern world, but it’s not impossible.

First, we have to come to grips with the fact that when we feel like our lives are out of control and a mess, we go to words. James 1:19 says, “let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, and slow to anger.” Why does James give this counsel? For the first part of James 1, the discussion is about trials and sufferings. What is our temptation in the midst of sufferings? To talk. To get angry. However, we are counseled to listen … to hear. Why? Because the anger of man does not “produce the righteousness of God.” So, in verse 21, we are challenged to “receive with meekness the implanted word.” In other words, in tragedy, we stop talking and start listening to God with humility. We open ourselves to the reality that, especially in suffering and trials, we don’t know and we can’t control. We open ourselves to God. We stay quiet so that He can speak and lead and guide. The words of God that we find in the Bible do not explain the problem of evil but tell us how to love each other and trust Him in the midst of it.

Second, we have learn to wait. In Lamentations 3, the prophet Jeremiah is watching the destruction of his beloved home of Jerusalem. It was not only a physical home but a spiritual home as well. As he watched the tragedy, he penned these words:

Remember my affliction and my wanderings,
 the wormwood and the gall!
My soul continually remembers it
 and is bowed down within me.
But this I call to mind,
 and therefore I have hope:

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; 
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
 great is your faithfulness.
“The Lord is my portion,” says my soul,
 “therefore I will hope in him.”

The Lord is good to those who wait for him, to the soul who seeks him. (3:19-25)

His point (not that he was necessarily trying to make one)?

1. Feel the pain and let it bring you to a place of humility
2. Bring the confusion and hurt and disappointment to mind and look to God
3. Remember that He is good and He is your portion (what you need) not control or definitions or meaning
4. Wait for Him

There doesn’t seem to be a suggestion that actions and responses in the midst of tragedy aren’t called for but there is a spirit in which we act and speak. It is with a listening, waiting heart … a humble, dependent heart that doesn’t know all things and can’t control. 

I wonder if this is why someone once said, “Preach the gospel at all times, use words if necessary.” Remember, there should not be an “either/or” approach to words and actions. We are clearly called to both but only that listening, waiting heart can give power and substance and weight to our words and actions.

Let’s be careful out there and be quick to hear, slow to speak, and slow to anger.

They claim to be our friends

Offering what we think we need

But they lie – it’s an illusion

It all comes with a price quite steep

“I can give you control,” says Doing

“And I can give you security,” says Having 

“I will give you affection,” says Pleasing

But even when they deliver, it’s not enough

Left instead with stress and exhaustion and doubt …

There is another group of three

Their promises quiet but sure

As I shed these other unholy friends

And learn to sit and be

I find all they promised and more

In the quiet and surrender of union …

… with the Three.

“As long as we continue to live as if we are what we do, what we have, and what other people think about us, we will remain filled with judgments, opinions, evaluations, and condemnations. We will remain addicted to putting people and things in their ‘right place.'” Henri Nouwen

“We mostly spend [life] conjugating three verbs: to Want, to Have, and to Do. Craving, clutching and fussing, on the material, political, social, emotional, intellectual, even on the religious plane, we are kept in perpetual unrest: forgetting that none of these verbs have any ultimate significance, except so far as they are transcended by and included in, the fundamental verb, to Be: and that Being, not wanting, having and doing, is the essence of the spiritual life.” Evelyn Underhill, The Spiritual Life

There is a longing inside every human soul to touch the divine. The ancient sage, known as “the preacher”, said “He has made everything beautiful in its time. Also, he has put eternity into man’s heart, yet so that he cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end.” (Ecc 3:11) We have a longing but God seems to only partially fulfill the longing. He doesn’t show us everything … instead, He gives us glimpses …

The glimpses are all around us. “The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims his handiwork.” (Psa 19:1) God is always speaking. He is always reaching out but never in a way that overpowers. He is gentle and even the strong displays of His glory leave us with the choice to trust and surrender to His goodness.

But, why doesn’t He just make everything obvious about who He is? Why doesn’t He do more than show us glimpses? He did give us more than a glimpse in the person of Jesus. And even then, Jesus used “glimpses” to share the reality of His divinity and Messiahship. For those who had ears to hear and eyes to see, it was clear but He never forced Himself on people.

There is a cry of our hearts that says, “God, show me! Show me Your glory.” We often want Him to do the work for us … but He gives glimpses because making everything so clear would destroy the essence of relationship which is choice and love and trust.

Consider …
Moses said, “Please show me your glory.” And he said, “I will make all my goodness pass before you and will proclaim before you my name ‘The LORD.’ And I will be gracious to whom I will be gracious, and will show mercy on whom I will show mercy. But,” he said, “you cannot see my face, for man shall not see me and live.” And the LORD said, “Behold, there is a place by me where you shall stand on the rock, and while my glory passes by I will put you in a cleft of the rock, and I will cover you with my hand until I have passed by. Then I will take away my hand, and you shall see my back, but my face shall not be seen.” (Ex 33:18-23)

The truth is that all of life is dripping with His glory. In the sunset, we see His creativity. In a cloudless sky, we see His smile. In the starry night, we see His vastness. In the clouds and rain, we see His tears lined with the possibility of a new day. On a warm day, we feel His embrace. With the cool of evening, we experience His refreshment. In the laughter of a child, we see His playfulness and joy. In the rugged face of an old man, we see His wisdom. In the tears of a friend, we see His ache. In a loaf of bread, we see His provision for another day. In our hearts, we see that He exists.

The list could go on and it does. He is everywhere and seemingly unavoidable and yet, we frequently miss the glimpses.

A daily prayer …
Father, may I see You today in all that I experience so that my life would be an expression of You.

A moment by moment prayer …
Father, give me eyes to see You in this situation and in this person.

We live in a world that celebrates the extraordinary to the point that the ordinary can seem like a lesser world to inhabit. The ordinary feels like pure drudgery. To live in the “ordinary” is an insult to our intelligence and capabilities. However, life is made up of one ordinary day after another.

The wisdom of Ecclesiastes proclaims that there is “nothing new under the sun.” (1:9) Even so, there is something in us that longs for the extraordinary … something bigger than “day to day” life. Again, the wisdom of Ecclesiastes: “he has put eternity into man’s heart, yet so that he cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end.” (3:11)

We were built for the extraordinary but we don’t find it in the circumstances of life. In fact, the wisdom of Ecclesiastes suggests that we can’t find out what God has done from beginning to end. In other words, the pursuit of time-bound, circumstantial extraordinariness is futile because we are the mercy of God and His movement in our lives. He supplies the extraordinary. His very life and the glimpses we catch of Him are the extraordinary. Besides, much of what Western culture celebrates and promotes is an illusion at best.

Seeking the extraordinary is not only futile, it can border on idolatrous. It is He alone who is our “extraordinary.” When He becomes that, the stuff of life is easy to inhabit because changing a diaper or taking the trash out is not what defines us. In fact, His love extended to us and through us, no matter the task, is our reality. Simple things become an altar of worship. And when we practice inhabiting the ordinary with our full selves, not longing for some other existence, we’ve begun to experience Him. Remember, it is not in the “extraordinary” that we experience Him (a wind or an earthquake or a fire) but in the sound of silence. (1 Kings 19:11-12)

When we do experience an extraordinary event, it is nothing more than a window into His divine mercy that fuels our existence in the ordinary. But, even this, we do not seek but we entrust ourselves to the One who provides all that is necessary.

Oswald Chambers commented: “We have all experienced times of exaltation on the mountain, when we have seen things from God’s perspective and have wanted to stay there. But God will never allow us to stay there. The true test of our spiritual life is in exhibiting the power to descend from the mountain. If we only have the power to go up, something is wrong. It is a wonderful thing to be on the mountain with God, but a person only gets there so that he may later go down and lift up the demon-possessed people in the valley (see Mark 9:14-18) We are not made for the mountains, for sunrises, or for the other beautiful attractions in life— those are simply intended to be moments of inspiration. We are made for the valley and the ordinary things of life, and that is where we have to prove our stamina and strength. Yet our spiritual selfishness always wants repeated moments on the mountain. We feel that we could talk and live like perfect angels, if we could only stay on the mountaintop. Those times of exaltation are exceptional and they have their meaning in our life with God, but we must beware to prevent our spiritual selfishness from wanting to make them the only time.”

Consider this … seek Him in the ordinary and life will have an extraordinary nature. However, seek Him in the extraordinary and life will seem very ordinary.

Make a commitment to give up seeking the extraordinary and live each ordinary moment in His love and provision. What might that look like for you? How will you receive His love and provision in the ordinary?

What do “The Fault in Our Stars” and a relationship with Jesus have in common? Maybe nothing. Maybe a lot. However, I was moved to think through several things as I watched the movie and then reflected in the following days. First, let me share a disclaimer: I am a firm believer that the fingerprints of God are everywhere in His creation, including the people He has created. The stories we tell are never, ever, ever divorced from the reality of who He is. We may realize it or we may not, but our ability to recognize truth is in no way consequential to whether something is truth or not. However, when we realize and see that everything in life is dripping with the glory of God, we are able to interact with life in redemptive and loving and life giving ways.

So, “The Fault in Our Stars” is a great story and an honest one, but what gripped me most was the juxtaposition of two kinds of love. There was the sappy, immature relationship between Isaac and Monica punctuated with the sharing of the word “always” back and forth between the lovers. It was their mantra to mean that things would always be “this way” and they would “always” be there for each other. Of course, in a touch of dramatic irony, we could see that this word would come back to haunt them. The relationship didn’t last. Because tragedy was about to strike Isaac, Monica preemptively breaks things off. “Always” as a way of thinking about love was no more! As an immature love often goes, no room was made for suffering.

On the other hand, Augustus and Hazel have a relationship built on a brutal commitment to truth and honesty forged by the shared reality of cancer. Neither have a desire for a shallow, typical relationship, but one resting in truth. The word which becomes their mantra? “Okay.” The word represented a shared acceptance that reality is enough. They didn’t desire to lie or pretend or make something more of life than what they had been given. And, it was in this very acceptance that life took on a depth and richness that circumstance could not steal.

It was indeed interesting that Jesus made a bit of a cameo appearance in the film. The young man who led the cancer support group sang “sappy” songs about Jesus always being there. He wove a carpet depicting Jesus and invited people to come to the “literal” heart of Jesus. The immaturity and misunderstanding of relationship evident in this leader seemed to mirror the immature love of Isaac and Monica.

However, as the film seemed to challenge us to move on from immature love (and, perhaps, by inference, Jesus), I saw the development of “okay” as a similar invitation that Jesus extends to us again and again.

As I sat in a worship service recently, I was struck (having just seen “The Fault in Our Stars”) with the usage of the word “always” in a worship song. Jesus will always come through. He will always be there. Certainly, there is a beautiful truth in the “always-ness” of God, but there are also times when it doesn’t feel like He is there … when cancer strikes, when a child dies, when we are suffering. In addition, there are times when Jesus doesn’t relate to us in the ways He used to. He often seems absent and it has nothing to do with circumstances.

There is a need to mature to a place of being able to say “okay.” Certainly, there is a deep appropriateness to singing songs about the “always-ness” of God and for young love (even love with God), there is a need for emotions that might not stand the test of time. However, there is more to a relationship with Jesus than suggested by the support group leader in “The Fault of Our Stars.”

Richard Rohr, in his book “Everything Belongs”, comments that “Everything belongs and everything can be received. We don’t have to deny, dismiss, defy, or ignore. Whatever is, is okay. What is, is the great teacher. I have always seen this as the deep significance of Jesus’ refusal of the drugged wine on the cross.”

Please note that I am in no way critiquing the fact that a “Christian” leader was portrayed as a bit of a dork and clueless. It helped tell the story and was honest. Many Christians stay in the place of immaturity. By God’s grace, He loves us and meets us where we are. However, He always desires for us to move into maturity and the ability to say “okay.”

Indeed, whatever is, is okay because He is present and He is at work. How does He desire to move you from “always” to “okay”?