journey onWord with us

Has the following scenario caused conflicted emotions for you? While focusing on a project, someone interrupts you with the words, “Do you have a moment?” or “Are you busy?”  Internally your emotions scream, “No, I don’t have time!”  But instead, you whisper the words, “Sure, what can I do for you?”  Most caring people want to help others, but it seems that the interruptions of life disrupt our perfectly laid plans.  It’s so easy to build a model for what needs to be accomplished in a day, only to have it interrupted by a myriad of issues and people. Over the past week, I have been contemplating my view daily disruptions as compared to the way Christ lived His life.

As I have read scripture this year, the words of Jesus have been a main focus of my study. The actions of Jesus are invaluable guides as I travel my own journey. From my vantage point, Christ lived a very interrupted life.  Just in the last several days, I have noted several instances that would have been disruptions to my daily agenda.  A man named Jarius falls at Jesus’ feet, wanting Jesus to come to the aid of his dying daughter. On the way to Jarius’ home, a woman subject to bleeding for twelve years touched the edge of his cloak. Jesus stopped and ministered to her before continuing on. On another occasion, Jesus and the disciples withdrew to a place called Bethsaida and crowds followed. What did Christ do? Taught them, healed those who needed healing, and fed the five thousand. His movements were constantly disrupted by people with needs. Interestingly, the Son of God was compassionate and caring using the interruptions to minister, heal and teach.  Are the interruptions you and I face viewed as opportunities to care and help?

In reading The Rest of God, by Mark Buchanan, words about the life and interruptions of Jesus struck a nerve.

“He lived life with the clearest and highest purpose. Yet he veered and strayed from one interruption to the next, with no apparent plan in hand other than his single, overarching one: get to Jerusalem and die. Otherwise, His days, as far as we can figure, were a series of zigzags and detours, apparent whims and second thoughts, interruptions and delays, off-the-cuff plans, spur-of-the-moment decisions, leisurely meals, serendipitous rounds of storytelling…….

No, Jesus didn’t seem to keep time. But he noticed. So many people along the way—blind men, lame men, wild men, fishermen, tax men, weeping whores, pleading fathers, grieving mothers, dying children, singing children, anyone—captured his attention. He stopped to tell a lot of stories, many of which arose out of, well, more interruptions.”

Christ was far busier than you or me. Yet we become so enamored or absorbed in our schedule and our plans that we don’t —notice — like Christ did. This is not a call to spend our days singing Kumbaya, not focusing on what has to be done. At the same time, if you and I look at interruptions selfishly, then we’re certain to fail to notice meaningful opportunities given to us by God. We must look at interruptions with eyes that are wide open and with a heart of wisdom.

“My whole life I have been complaining that my work was constantly interrupted,” Henri Nouwen said near the end of his life, “until I discovered that interruptions were my work.”  Could it be that the daily interruptions that so often irritate us are moments of great value?  Moments of God-value.

Today, as your interruptions come, look at Jesus … and do what He would do!

As Mike mentioned last week, we are celebrating an anniversary at Journey onWord.  An amazing five year journey, which only God could have authored.  I cannot thank Mike and Genel enough for their vision and invitation to join them five years ago.  Mike has been beyond gracious in gifting me complete freedom in contributing, and I have been blessed beyond measure to be a part of what God is doing in this little corner of the world wide web.  I also owe a great debt of gratitude to my Uncle Tom.  One that I could never repay.  It was his initiative and enthusiasm that opened the opportunity for me, and he was an instrument of God in the “chance” (never with God) introduction to Mike and Genel in the Akron-Canton airport.  And last in mention, but first in my heart and life, I am eternally grateful to my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ for creating me to do this and answering a fervent heart prayer, filled up and overflowing.

This is “my week” in our four-week anniversary celebration.  I was given the opportunity to write one original post and also pick out a post from “back in the day” to re-post.  I love all things vintage, so my intent was to select something from early in our first year.  My search led me to a story that I shared with Mike, which was the subject of our 20th post back in October of 2009.  I was just about to hit copy/paste when another title on the search list caught my eye.  Its date (November 2013) should have disqualified it, but I remembered the post immediately from its title, and the story I wrote on that day resonates so perfectly with where my journey finds me on this specific day.  I would love for you to join me in reading post #459 … “don’t miss the bubbles” as published on November 7th, 2013.

Grace and Peace,
p. mark

::  don’t miss the bubbles  ::

I live in a home with no dishwasher or microwave oven; a fact that, to this day, still confounds my colleagues at work. During our occasional discussions on technological topics, it’s only a matter of time before someone discounts or disqualifies my opinion with the declarative, “Yeah, but you don’t even own a microwave. And, oh yeah, that’s right, a dishwasher either!” To which I love to respond, “But at least it only took me two years to get rid of the rotary dial phone after we bought our house!” (That’s actually true, by the way. There was something about the little finger flick when dialing and the trademark motion and noise of the dial face as it returned to its rest position.)

My wife was putting the final rinse on a few plates and bowls a few days ago.  I snuck behind her and picked up a towel to dry. As she pulled the stopper on the wash side of the sink, drained the water and rinsed the remaining bubbles, I dried the remnants and returned them to their rightful place in the cupboard. As I looked out the window and waited for her to finish wiping down the counter, I caught a rogue unwashed pan in my periphery. Rather than announcing it, I kept quiet and waited for my wife to leave the kitchen. I brought the pan over to the sink, rinsed it with some hot water and reached down below the sink for the dishwashing liquid. After squeezing a small amount onto my dish cloth, I made a motion to close the top on the bottle and place it back underneath the sink. As I did, I must have slightly squeezed the bottle, and instantly a cluster of miniature bubbles burst out of the spout.

For whatever reason, bubbles fascinate me, and in an instant I was awestruck. I stood and stared for what seemed like minutes, as the miniature bubbles rode on the invisible currents of air in the kitchen. The bubbles seemed to hover together for a minute and then began to float off in every conceivable direction. Some simply fell. Others would rise, then float horizontally, and then fall, and then rise again, changing directions at the whim of the unseen current. I knew a pan was waiting for me, but I could not take my eyes off the bubbles.

I know there is science behind the formation and behavior of bubbles. There are truths and natural laws that explain and govern them. But in that moment, I was quite literally awestruck in the presence of those simple little spheres.

I believe our “advanced,” modern world (you know, the one with dishwashers and microwaves) distracts us from moments like I had this morning. Too often the pace and the noise in our lives, tempts or causes us to focus on the “to be done” at the expense of the “to be seen.” We stand at the sink constrained by the thought of finishing that last dish and turn our backs on the opportunity to stop and watch the bubbles. And this observation is not just about slowing down so we can enjoy life more, it’s about seeing and experiencing God … knowing Him.

There is truth in the natural world, and there is Truth in scripture. But what is the purpose of those lowercase and capital “T” truths? Do they exist to explain, or are they there to amaze? Are we in this here-and-now to understand and steward or to love and glorify?

When was the last time you were left breathless? When was the last time you stopped dead in your tracks to stare at “miniature bubbles?” When was the last time you read your Bible and were overcome with wonder? The pan will still be there when you get around to washing it. Don’t miss the bubbles!

I’d like to back up a couple of days, if you’ll allow.  Back up to the four verses that were our daily reading for Saturday, the story of Jesus calming the storm.  As is my common practice, I sat down with a cup of coffee early in the morning, opened my iPad and navigated to the Journey onWord site.  I clicked on the reference for the day, and read the handful of verses in a couple different translations.  Like so much of what we’ve read this year in focusing on the words of Jesus, the story of Jesus calming the storm was very familiar.  And like so many other times this year, that morning I felt as if I was reading the story for the first time.

I sometimes “envy” the new Christian.  Reading and discovering things for the first time is so thrilling, and seems to fuel your desire for even more.  Over the past few years I have made a personal commitment to intentionally read the Bible as if with new eyes.  I read and re-read stories, laser-focused on each detail of the person, place or thing.  It’s amazing how many times I find myself surprised by what I read.  Details I was sure were in the story that simply weren’t there, and things I was sure people said but goodness if I could find them!  In our familiarity with scripture, it can be so easy to unintentionally add, subtract or confuse.

As I read the words of Jesus’ question to the disciples after He calmed the storm, it was as if I had misunderstood it my entire life, and it finally dawned on me what He was asking!  “Ohhhhhhh … that’s what He meant!”

“Where is your faith?” he asked.  And for most of my life of faith, I assumed Jesus was making a statement in the form of a question.  It’s what we do when we’re trying to make a point, right?  Ask question that really isn’t a question.  I had assumed for all this time that Jesus was rebuking the disciples as He did the wind.  “Where was your faith when you needed it?” (note that I did not italicize those words, nor did I change their color to red.  “I guess your faith failed you, didn’t it?” (again, no italics, no red)

What I just figured out two days ago, was that Jesus was genuinely asking his closest followers in what, or in who was their faith?  For those who had spent their adult lives on the water, was their faith in their sailing skills or a sturdy boat?  Did they believe in themselves to weather the storm, and when they finally concluded they were powerless against the wind and the waves, they ran to Jesus?  But wait, isn’t that what He would have wanted them to do?

As my heart and mind were opened to real truth, I began to read backwards to see what else I might have missed or misunderstood.  It didn’t take long for me to see the disciples actions and words with new eyes as well.  These were not men that had tried to battle the storm, lost hope and went running to Jesus to save them.  These were His followers that tried to battle the storm, lost hope and went running to Jesus to tell Him they were all going to drown.  Impressive they would want to warn Him, but absolutely absent of any faith in Him to do anything about their dire condition.

Now, I’ll stop right here and emphatically insist that we must be quick to resist judging the disciples.  There are so many instances of “low hanging fruit” where we could sit in judgement of these men.  Walking along the road with Jesus (multiple times), having arguments over who is the best.  Asking if they could be the one to sit at Jesus’ right hand in heaven.  Trying to shield children from being brought to Jesus, and rebuking those who were bringing them.  Seriously, guys!  But before those words leave our lips, I hope the conviction of the Spirit stops us cold.  The disciples are us and we are them.

When you are in the midst of a violent storm in your life, who do you run to?  And if it’s Jesus, what do you say?  I know in my own life, there have been far too few times when I’ve run directly into His arms to simply seek shelter.  Far too few times I’ve simply spoken my fears and nestled into His embrace in full trust that He will save me from drowning and eventually calm the storm(s) with just the sound of His voice.  Where is my faith?  Where is your faith?

I find it so comforting that He calmed the storm first.  He didn’t lay in bed and ask them the question.  He didn’t require affirmation of their faith before acting to remove the danger.  Do we trust God that much?  Do we trust that there isn’t a “storm” too great that He is not Lord over it?  Can we run to Jesus and be content to simply ride out the storm below deck because He is there with us?

How did I miss this before?  Maybe it’s because sometimes I read or remember scripture with my own filter.  Maybe somewhere along my walk of faith I fell into Satan’s trap and began believing (even just a little) that God responds with sarcasm, disapproval or conditions when I try in my own power to battle the storms and fail.  “Where was your faith, Mark?” (no italics, no red).

I believe in this story He is saying to me, and to you, “Trust me.  I can be trusted.  No matter how powerful the winds and the waves are, no matter how desperate the situation seems … I can be trusted!”  Run to Him.  Trust Him.  There is no storm whose ear is deaf to the sound of His voice.

Tomorrow will be a special day for me, my wife and our friends, Mark and Tom. It is the anniversary of the day five years ago when we had a brief airport encounter that was the start of Journey onWord. By God’s grace, that encounter was the beginning of 540 articles to-date. Just today, people read the articles from as far away as Singapore, Brazil, India and Italy. Our ministry is designed to encourage and move people toward the Word. We certainly want to give praise to God for His grace and guidance for the last five years. We thought it would be interesting to go back to the beginning and share articles that were read by very few. For a few weeks we will weave them around the words of Jesus.  So from 2009 …

Honesty would declare that I struggle with selfishness, and spend far too much time frustrated over “my failures.”  It wouldn’t surprise me if you faced some of those same struggles yourself.  And you may even relate to what a friend of mine expressed recently. After a bout with anger, he stated, “I can’t believe I did that”.

Each one of our lives is littered with moments we wish we could take back.  God understands those moments, and meets us with open arms when we come to Him with our failures.  But we so often get in the way, choosing to focus on regret and what was not accomplished, instead of embracing and accepting the boundless grace He so freely offers.

As we approach the homestretch on another year, embrace your weakness and accept insight from author Brennan Manning.  He shares in his book, “The Ragamuffin Gospel”, a prayer one morning, in which he felt he heard a word from the Lord:

Little brother, I witnessed a Peter who claimed that he did not know me, a James who wanted power in return for service to the kingdom, a Philip who failed to see the Father in Me, and scores of disciples who were convinced I was finished at Calvary. The New Testament has many examples of men and women who started out well and then faltered along the way. Yet on Easter night I appeared to Peter. James is not remembered for his ambition but for the sacrifice of his life for me. Philip did see the Father in Me when I pointed the way, and the disciples who despaired had enough courage to recognize Me when we broke bread at the end of the road to Emmaus. My point, little brother, is this: I expect more failure from you than you expect from yourself.

You and I will fail today, of that you can be certain.  But we can be even more certain of the truth that the Father will not stop loving us.  Choose this week to run the risk of failure with a fully devoted heart. As the words above inferred, men like Peter, James and Philip weren’t perfect, but oh how God used them. In Christ, there is a purpose for you and I to play for kingdom good. Along the way we will fail, but a greater failure would be to not live passionately for the Savior.

So partner with me and embrace your weaknesses, risk failure (remember He already knows we will), and be a conduit of His grace.  There is someone in your life today that could use a word of encouragement.  Risk failing and reach out.

II Corinthians 12:10
That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in
weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions,
in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

Accept your weakness, embrace grace, and forget regret!

It’s always interesting when my scripture reading intersects with my life. I think it’s safe to believe that you’ve experienced similar times and kinds of life intersections. My daily reading of the words of Jesus took me to the story of Jesus healing a young man (more later). It was amazing to me that after reading those words last Saturday morning, I would give a Eulogy later that very day for a man who had lived a physically tough journey.  It’s so hard for any of us to have the proper words to comfort others in a time of deep grieving. As I stood before the man’s parents, it was great to celebrate a remarkable journey, but hard to really understand and convey the compassion and grace needed for that moment. Reading the depth of Jesus’ compassion caused me to reflect on how I respond (or should respond) to others who are hurting.

The passage that I read yesterday morning was one of the three places in scripture where we find Jesus raising a dead person to life. Most people can immediately remember the raising of Lazarus, some may recall the raising of Jarius’ daughter, but few can recollect the raising of the widow from Nain’s son without some prompting. Oh, but what a great scene it was! And what a great picture of compassion and grace Jesus displayed in Luke 7:11-15.

Soon afterward Jesus went with his disciples to the village of Nain, and a large crowd followed him. A funeral procession was coming out as he approached the village gate. The young man who had died was a widow’s only son, and a large crowd from the village was with her. When the Lord saw her, his heart overflowed with compassion. “Don’t cry!” he said. Then he walked over to the coffin and touched it, and the bearers stopped. “Young man,” he said, “I tell you, get up.” Then the dead boy sat up and began to talk! And Jesus gave him back to his mother.

In those days, it was common for Jewish people to bury their dead the very same day they passed away. Considering the fact this woman had no surviving husband or son, devastating economic and emotional circumstances were likely on the horizon. What a bleak day! But in the sovereignty of God, Jesus was approaching Nain’s village gate as the funeral procession was passing through. What timing! The compassion of Christ bubbled over, and He did something that was full of grace. We have all responded to a child with the words, “Don’t cry.” However, the depth of care from Christ at this moment was far beyond any times those two words have ever exited our lips. He was literally meeting the grieving widow at her point of need.

It’s also interesting to me that Jesus did something radical, right before raising the young man. He touched the coffin (no big deal, right?). But this action rendered him ritually unclean. It most assuredly got the bearers’ attention, because they stopped. He raised the young man back to life with a simple command. Jesus’ own words of compassion and loving care accomplished far more than any human attempts at encouragement. Can you imagine the mother’s emotion as Jesus returned her son?

As I stood before my friends Saturday, my compassion and care for them ran deep. So often, however, I’m afraid that my (and your) compassion stops at a brief word and nice card. We may not have the power to raise the dead, but we can speak life into another living soul.  The next time we feel like saying to someone, “Don’t cry,” maybe we should catch their tears by caring and helping them beyond that moment.  Don’t stop short of saying those words, but say them in a way that speaks life into another one that desperately needs it.

News of disadvantaged children crossing into Texas is causing visceral emotional responses. The priorities of loving kids and protecting our borders seem to be in conflict. Israel in conflict with the Palestinians is also a very emotional topic. I could continue listing national (and international) events that cause us all to wonder what is happening in our world. And forget the world for a moment – daily, I see pain, hurt and dysfunction (even in the Christian world) that give me considerable pause. What then can we hold on to that will never, ever change, disappoint or discourage? You guessed it, Jesus Christ … the same yesterday, today and forever.

If you know Christ as your Savior, your hope is tied to the gospel message and the core of your life is its truth. I sometimes feel, in an ever-changing world, we’ve lost the distinctiveness of faith in Christ as the only hope for eternity. To know and love Christ will not always be popular, but it will always honor Him. And when the world is out of balance, He is not!

Forgive me for departing from my normal article style, which is based on our current scripture reading.  But I want to share a very meaningful and inspiring story that may encourage you in an out of balance world.  Please read carefully and prayerfully what an African pastor wrote on the night before he was murdered for an unwillingness to renounce his faith. He wrote the following on a scrap of paper …

I am part of the “Fellowship of the Unashamed.” I have Holy Spirit power. The die has been cast. I’ve stepped over the line. The decision has been made. I am a disciple of His. I won’t look back, let up, slow down, back away, or be still. My past is redeemed, my present makes sense, and my future is secure. I am finished and done with low living, sight walking, small planning, smooth knees, colorless dreams, tame visions, mundane talking, chintzy giving, and dwarfed goals!

I no longer need preeminence, prosperity, position, promotions, plaudits, or popularity. I don’t have to be right, first, tops, recognized, praised, regarded, or rewarded. I now live by His presence, lean by faith, love by patience, lift by prayer and labor by power.

My face is set, my gait is fast, my goal is heaven, my road is narrow, my way is rough, my companions few, my guide reliable, my mission clear. I cannot be bought, compromised, detoured, lured away, turned back, diluted, or delayed. I will not flinch in the face of sacrifice, hesitate in the presence of adversity, negotiate at the table of the enemy, ponder at the pool of popularity or meander in the maze of mediocrity.

I won’t give up, shut up, let up, or burn up till I’ve preached up, prayed up, paid up, stored up, and stayed up for the cause of Christ.

I am a disciple of Jesus. I must go till He comes, give till I drop, preach till all know, and work till He stops. And when He comes to get His own, He’ll have no problems recognizing me. My colors will be clear.

Source: “Daily in Christ” daily devotional, Neil Anderson, August 21st entry

Let your faith be distinctive enough to make a difference. In an out of balance world, we can give a clear portrait of what it means to follow Christ, and live in His joy. Let the colors of your portrait be clear!

On countless occasions over my lifetime I have read the account of Jesus, the demon-possessed man and a large herd of pigs. What a fascinating story! What a great picture of God’s power over Satan! Can you imagine experiencing the scene in person as the men were released from demon possession and the evil spirits then entered the pigs? And how about standing by and watching a large herd of pigs rushing down a steep bank into a lake and drowning? I’m sure that in my years of reading this account, I’ve gained some knowledge and understanding of the healing power and love of Jesus. I’ve concentrated on the demon-possessed man, the pig stampede and the demons, but not much more. Sometimes, if you’re like me, reading Scripture becomes more about the process and less about gleaning great principles for life. Contained within this event was an incredible life lesson for today, and I have missed it for years. Maybe you have too.

To set the context, Jesus gets out of a boat and is confronted by two demon-possessed men (Matthew’s gospel mentions two). The account of this story in the book of Luke focused on one of the two men.  Luke’s account told that he had not worn clothes or lived in a house for a long time, but had lived in tombs. Picturing this scene gives us all the mental picture of a sick, hopeless, violent person. We have all encountered people who caused us to feel uneasy or even fearful, but I don’t think that any of us has come upon a scene quite like this one.

The legion of demons that controlled the men asked Jesus to send them into the pigs. Jesus obliged, and the pig stampede began. Once the evil spirits left the men, we find our singular man in the Luke account dressed and in his right mind. He was a new creation! But there is more to the story. After the event, people pleaded with Jesus to leave (interesting). As Jesus was getting in the boat, the converted (I believe) and healed man asked to go along. Jesus wouldn’t let him go, but His instructions were words that every believer should follow … and I have missed them for most of my Scripture reading years.

Later, a great many people from the Gerasene countryside got together and asked Jesus to leave—too much change, too fast, and they were scared. So Jesus got back in the boat and set off. The man whom he had delivered from the demons asked to go with him, but he sent him back, saying, “Go home and tell everything God did in you.” So he went back and preached all over town everything Jesus had done in him.
Luke 8:37-39 (MSG)

Think about the monumental life change for this once scary creature. The healing hand of the Master changed everything. When you and I came to faith in Christ, everything changed for us. On this side of eternity, the most important decision in our lives was when we went from darkness to light, and became new creations in Christ Jesus. However, Christians often shy away from sharing their spiritual heritage with those they love. The words of Jesus to the healed demonic are very relevant today. We, like him, should tell our story. Why did Jesus tell him to share what happened? Because Jesus wanted others to hear of His mercy!

So here’s the challenge: If you are in Christ, who needs to hear what He has done for you? Will you pray for them? If Christ opens a door of opportunity, will you share your story with them? It’s easy to make excuses, but if Christ is your Savior, do not be afraid to tell your story. After all, it’s authored by the very hand of God and is your spiritual birthright.

Not every story is as “exciting” as a pig stampede, but that’s not the proper measuring stick.  If fear is the primary excuse for stories not being shared, a close second is “mine is just not that interesting or compelling.”  God authors no worthless stories.  He creates nothing of lesser value.  Be reminded that you are the masterpiece (Eph 2:10 NLT) of the Creator of the universe, and the very hand of God himself wrote your story.  That story needs to be told. Tell it today!

I think I love the nation’s birthday even more than my own.  I love everything about the Fourth of July.  I love seeing American flags flying from just about every home on our tree-lined street; I love the family gatherings and picnics; I love sparklers and fireworks displays; I love the inspiring music … all of it.  It’s also the only time of the year that I actually find value in the 300+ channels on my TV as I surf around for revolutionary era documentaries and movies.  My DVR fills up with programs it takes me weeks to watch, and some that I end up promising myself I will look for and watch next year. I own  more Old Navy flag t-shirts than I care to admit and I’ll likely catch myself humming Sousa marches several times today.

Many years ago, I had the great pleasure of serving as a part of the team that changed the saying on our church sign each week.  In volunteering, you committed to a rotation that included three months during the year.  The first year I signed up, I made sure my rotation included the month of July.  My very first July, I came up with a saying that I ended up repeating each subsequent year during the month’s first week…

faith’s document is a
declaration of dependence

The fabric of our nation’s birth is woven with the thread of strong faith.  The freedom earned with the blood of patriots was the result of our people’s collective desire for independence.  In stark contrast, the foundation of our faith has as its cornerstone, a strong statement of dependence.  I desire God, and He desires me.  I have no hope separate from the sacrifice of his Son.  Apart from Him, “I can’t” is my best, but “I can do everything …” (Philippians 4:13) when He is the one I depend on.

In a society so defined by rugged individualism, dependence is more often seen as a sign of weakness.  In my world, as a kingdom citizen, the weak shall be strong, and the meek will inherit the earth.

On this, and every Fourth of July, I celebrate my citizenship and allegiance to the great country I call home, the United States of America.  And while I call this place “my home”, my heart knows that it’s not.  My true citizenship is in a kingdom of the here and now, yet one that is not of this world.  My true King is my Creator, my God.

Father, I am thankful for where you placed me.  May I be ever grateful and mindful on this specific day for the service and last full measure of devotion that men and woman have given so I can live in a country that is free.  May I be ever grateful and mindful every day for the blood that your Son shed to redeem me and gift me complete freedom in serving others and living for you.  I boldly and joyously celebrate this day (and every other that you have numbered for me) as Dependence Day!

I believe you would agree that we live in a distracted world. Technology and the general pace of life have us moving ever faster with much less aptitude for concentration and focus. Agreeing with the problem and actually addressing how it affects us personally are two very different things.  In 2011, the giant telecom company Nokia issued the results of a study that, among other things, stated the average mobile phone user accessed his/her phone an average of 150 times per day! During 2012, T- Mobile verified that study for users in the United States.  Excluding the hours that we sleep, these studies tell us that we are accessing our phones every 6.4 minutes. I would submit that for the vast majority of younger users, the usage is much greater.  Phone calls, texting, Google, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and the entirety of the internet are all at our finger tips.  I think we have all observed or have fallen victim to unfortunate affects of having such easy and immediate access.  Don’t get me wrong, I love my iPhone.  But I am increasingly concerned that our instant communication opportunities are drowning out the “still small voice” within us.

Looking at the life of Christ tends to lend perspective to all our excuses about the pace and chaos of life. You’ve most certainly read how Jesus would steal away to lonely places to spend time the Father. We saw it just yesterday in our daily reading passage in Luke where the story is told of Jesus healing a man with leprosy.

But despite Jesus’ instructions, the report of His power spread even faster, and vast crowds came to hear Him preach and to be healed of their diseases. But Jesus often withdrew to the wilderness for prayer.
Luke 5:15-16 (NLT)

Jesus purposefully removed Himself from the chaos of crowds, stealing away to quiet places in order to talk with the Father.  I wonder how Jesus would have handled an iPhone?  And I wonder what our relationship with the Father would be if we made an intentional effort to more often find quiet places to talk with Him? David Jeremiah sums up the need well in his July 2014 Turning Points devotional …

“For it is in the silent moments of life that we are able to hear God most clearly.”

Is there too much distraction, too few quiet moments and too little assurance that you are hearing God clearly in your life right now?  How many voices are competing for your attention, and how often do you feel like you are hearing that one True voice? The answers to those questions and the answer to the real problem are obvious.  We must intentionally seek quiet and communicate with God in those “places.”

In a great work from many years ago, Henri Nouwen provides great insight from the life of Christ. Read the words carefully if you are serious about hearing God and finding your own quiet places.

In the lonely place, Jesus finds the courage to follow God’s will and not his own; to speak God’s words and not his own, to do God’s work and not his own…. Somewhere we know that without a lonely place, our lives are in danger. Somewhere we know that without silence, words lose their meaning, that without listening, speaking no longer heals, that without distance, closeness cannot cure. Somewhere we know that without a lonely place (solitude), our actions quickly become empty gestures. The careful balance between silence and words, withdrawal and involvement, distance and closeness, solitude and community, forms the basis of the Christian life and should be the subject of our most personal attention…
(an excerpt from Spiritual Formation: Following the Movements of the Spirit by Henri J. M. Nouwen)

I’ll venture a guess that no one will disavow technology based on this post. But I do hope someone will consider how 24-7 “noise” has caused a lack of real communication… with others and the Father. The stakes are high when the noise causes us not to hear.

Consider your pace, your quiet places and His still small voice. He still speaks!

We must imitate Christ’s life, and his ways
if we are to be truly enlightened and set
free from the darkness of our own hearts.
Let it be the most important thing we do,
then, to reflect the life of Jesus Christ.
— Thomas à Kempis

Along your journey, have you ever said about another person, “I know God wants me to love him/her, but I just don’t like them?” The truth is that all of us have people around us who are hard to like; those who wound, annoy, and even anger us. Good Christian speak says love your enemies and forgive them. The Christian’s reality finds this to be extremely hard to do. So what’s the answer?

Luke 6:27-28 (NIV)
“But I tell you who hear me: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you.”

Luke 6:27-28 (MSG)
“To you who are ready for the truth, I say this: Love your enemies. Let them bring out the best in you, not the worst. When someone gives you a hard time, respond with the energies of prayer for that person.”

In the very words of Jesus from the Sermon on the Mount, we are given the answer. Christ gave concise, simple instructions, leaving no doubt about our responsibility. He told us to love our enemies and do good to people who hate us … but do we really have that capacity within us?  If we “try,” even with our whole selves, we will fall short every time.  But this capacity is absolutely available to us, when we submit that same whole self to the Spirit of the living God that dwells within us.

A study of Christ’s life through the words He speaks (the very journey we are on together this year) is a perfect source of guidance as well.  We see vivid, clear and simple examples to follow in how Jesus responded to the insults of life. Seek out the details of His earthly life, and you will get an up close and personal view of true love, forgiveness, and caring in the face of opposition and hatred. Thomas à Kempis gives the challenge to reflect the life of Christ, and God has given all Christ-followers His Spirit to guide us in doing just that. Don’t ask yourself; “Do I have the capacity…?” Yield to God’s Spirit, and show the world the power of truly loving your enemies.

Furthermore, we are told to bless those who curse us, and pray for those who mistreat us. A more typical response for us is to “bless” them out, and hope God’s wrath on them (just being honest). But take a really close look at what Christ did on the cross. In the darkest hours in human history, He obediently absorbed the full power of evil and sin. Yet while hanging on the cross, He prayed for the ones that put Him there. He died for the ones who put Him there. He died for all of us!

It’s Friday, and you may have experienced some enemy hatred-type feelings this week. Is it possible that your sacrificial willingness to love, pray and bless that enemy could be used to soften a heart, change a life, and affect eternity? If we accept that Christ lived this way, and we want to reflect His life, it only makes sense that we would live with love toward those who … really don’t love us.

Is there someone who the Spirit is prompting you to forgive, bless and even pray for? Why not obey today?