Written 11/26/24 for our latest MercyTalk podcast…
Back in April 2018, four months removed from a seven-year youth pastor assignment, I had a revelation that produced a habit I still practice to this day. As a state employee working in a stale environment, I sensed my walk with the Lord was starting to wane. For so long, motivation and inspiration overflowed naturally courtesy of 50 students and an opportunity to mature leadership in a liturgical setting; however, once I released the calling, I realized how much of my identity had become baked into my influence. Without youth in my life, I felt lost. Apart from my family, there was little to no accountability to guide my relationship with Jesus. Needing a spark, I knew my internal compass needed a reset.
So, I decided I would not only have daily quiet times during each morning commute but record them on my iPhone. With my weekly commutes averaging out to 6.5 hours, I figured I might as well talk and pray with God as I battle the banes of Nashville traffic. The decision turned out to be a game-changer as not only did the practice settle my spirit each day before work but allowed me to hear the mix of truth and lies roaming within. On some days, conviction came by declaring God’s Word out into the open; on others, I found grace simply in coming to Jesus as I was. In either case, my quiet time commutes were my happy hours during which I took thoughts captive and replaced them with holy perspective.
Fast-forward to October 2022 and I’m a month removed from losing my daughter, Jubilee, who took her last breath in my lap after a 393-day fight with chronic lung disease. For weeks I had been stone cold, flooding the pavement with tears during my workouts. Yet, everywhere else, the frozen numbness of grief had overtaken me. That’s when I returned to the practice of recording my quiet times on drives to work. During Jubilee’s life, the habit had faded to back-burner status through all the hustle and bustle. While there were times before Juju’s death when I felt as if I was walking on water, I sensed the sinking heading into 2023. If there ever was a time to rekindle the rhythm, this was it.
Like five years prior, I found myself pressing the red record button in my Audio app more frequently. With vulnerability on blast, there was never an intention of sharing the files with anyone. I simply needed to feel a connection with God, to feel His presence and listening ear calming the choppy waters of my soul. Occasionally, I would stumble upon an ‘ah ha’ moment, an epiphany with content-creating potential; however, the end goal was always to make room for God to invade my space and to catch Him doing it so I wouldn’t forget.
Having reached 400 records as of 11/20/2024, I can confidently say this habit has proven effective in stabilizing my mind, emotions, and walk with God all in one swoop. I especially recommend the practice for those in seasons of chaos in which they want to declutter or ‘spring clean’ their heart to hear the Shepherd’s voice more clearly.
Last December, I was taking inventory of my New Years goals and resolutions when the following revelation occurred to me: Why is it we’re more comfortable being for Christ than in Christ? Why does the thought of ‘in Christ’ intimidate us?
For many of us, we trust God and His Word as irrefutable truth, our belief a banner we wave and a root system anchoring our thoughts and behaviors. Like many Christians, we can wrap our minds around Christ in us by way of salvation and sanctification. Yet, even though we know God is infinitely greater, even though we can generally comprehend the life He facilitates, we sometimes struggle to grasp our lives 24/7/365 in Him and accordingly struggle to scale the challenges in front of us.
Often, we settle into rhythms, patterns, and mindsets where faith exists at their core. Still, I can’t help but wonder how they would change if we saw the ‘abiding in Christ’ potential in them. As to how we connect the dots, I submit we start by considering not only what does it mean to be ‘in Christ’ but how do we let our ‘in Christ’ be at work?
First, we must discern what it means to be ‘in Christ’. To be in Christ means we’re unified with Him personally and corporately. In Galatians, Paul talks about our new ‘in Christ’ identity by way of putting our hope and faith in Him. For many, we hear the phrase during baptisms and communions when we identify with Christ in the likeness of His death and resurrection. Where the Cross has power, there we can abide in Christ as we walk in the newness of life (Romans 6:4-5), which defined one way, is resurrection applied to every thought, pattern, belief, decision, temptation, all facets and modes of life.
While ‘newness of life’ can seem like a lofty phrase, one can always translate this to the surface through basic affirmations, saying ‘yes’ to ‘I’m loved by God’, ‘yes’ to the Cross and Jesus purchasing us at a price, ‘yes’ to leaving our sinful pasts behind, to ‘It is finished’, if you will. When we accept Jesus into our hearts, we embrace a new identity as children reconciled to God and our part of one body, the family of God, in which we abide from victory, not for it.
In Christ we find deliverance and healing, victory and life, goodness and godliness. Colossians 3:3 says we have died and our lives are hidden with Christ, notable as this also reflects how we’re to store His Word after spiritually ingesting it.
Effectively, to be ‘in Christ’ means God sees the righteousness of His Son operating in and through us.
But how do we exactly walk in this? For starters, we must position ourselves to be transformed by the renewing of our minds. While many recognize this opportunity as a gift of accepting Christ’s sacrifice as payment for our rap sheets, unfortunately, not all believers allow their minds to be renewed as spiritual walks fatigue and, in some cases, become compartmentalized. Sometimes, the hindrance is due to offenses that have matured to doubts, fears, bitterness, and resentments. When we tolerate these love-forsaken realities, our spiritual accounting becomes off-balance, where the cost of following Christ becomes almost equal to not following Him; hence, why many grow weary and stagnant. Over time, we become like vehicles wanting to hit the road yet are too scared about the fluids required to get there. Eventually, we stomach enough to reset and ramp onto new pathways, but with limited containers of health.
This leads me to another critical point…
When we take stock of our walk every new year, we must understand ‘reset’ and ‘renew’ are not the same.
With a reset, you take your plate to God where grace is received through humility and rest is received by the surrendering of your will in the moment, but to be transformed by the renewing of your mind, one must be daily dying in the context of vertical intimacy. Take it from one who’s failed in this time and time again: It doesn’t make sense to reset our walks, and by proxy, our vocational and spiritual trajectories, if we don’t intend to renew our minds, respond to conviction, and invite God into our brokenness.
Again, the obstacles are many but with them comes a challenge we must relish: In our aims to be equipped and effective, from knowledge base to spiritual growth, in our desire to experience greater wholeness, we must open ourselves up to be healed in our emotions. How we tend our broken hearts corporately cannot be swept under the carpet of mission, in the call we have to lay groundwork for holy repair. In the context of heaven meets earth, we may genuinely desire effectiveness; however, if we’re not acknowledging God in all our ways, if we’re not grasping our ‘loved-by-God, in-Christ identity’, our reach, the authenticity of our influence, will be capped.
So, my hope for us this year is at the least two-fold:
That we release any inhibitions in fully surrendering our lives to God.
That we give God more room to invade our space in all areas of life.
Not just at church, on Sundays, in our quiet times, but in our offices, the phone lines, conversations, yes, even the secret thoughts we have about each other. For if we’re not committed to being in-Christ, then our pride, anger, fear, self-centeredness will remain relevant, hinder our transformation, and prevent our minds from being renewed as God intended.
In summary, to be ‘in Christ’ is more than being content under the shadow of His wings, more than being grateful on account of sovereignty and grace, even more than our redemption. To be ‘in Christ’ is to be so united to Jesus by faith, so in awe of the Cross and the ministry of reconciliation that our dependence detaches from anything that could make it conditional and the transformation by the renewal of our minds become an overflow of discovering God as He pursues us.
May our ‘in Christ’ be at work, always and forever, even as we heal, even as we’re desperate, on and off the clock.
Every so often, I catch myself humming ‘Be the Center’ by Vineyard Worship.
Jesus, be the center. Be the reason that I live, Jesus.
No doubt, it’s a catchy song fit with symmetrical lyrics and a soothing melody.
But frankly speaking, sometimes this ‘center’ feels far away in a distant land where the line becomes blurred between poetic license and figurative expression. In my heart, I crave Christ as my epicenter. Yet, like a geologist who cares about his audience, knowing how this translates to the surface is harder to discern.
Thankfully, when we look at Matthew 11, John 15, and 1 John 2-3, we find a key word integral to the conversation, ‘abide’. To abide with Christ, we must make holy habitation where we walk and talk with God. Applying various translations, to abide in Christ, we must accept Him as a safe place of dwelling and refuge where His love can be known, especially in times of trouble (Psalm 91:1-2).
That said, what makes the word one of the most versatile in all Scripture is the fact it extends past place and addresses our internal posture. See John 6:56, for instance, where communion is defined as a way to remain in lockstep with Jesus or Revelation 2:26, in which abiding is conveyed as a connector between perseverance and salvation. Taking the mean of these passages, when we remember the Cross and repent within the shadows invading our sanctuary, we can experience true freedom where our capacity to exalt God is extended.
For many of us, we desire the supernatural rest and peace that overflows from being present with God; albeit, for some, the effects of spiritual abiding are more preferred than the intimacy required. Deep down, we know there’s nothing sweeter than God’s presence and essence, in being held and kept under His wings.
Still, there’s a gnarly disconnect we occasionally encounter, a spiritual fly in the ointment compromising our pursuit of the divine. For years, I figured complacency and unbelief were the primary reasons we sometimes fail to yield to God in challenging circumstances; however, upon further review, the greatest divides hover over the areas where we’re most resistant to ask and receive God into…
…which brings me to why I’m writing this.
As believers, we must be willing to invite God into every aspect of our lives, not just our brokenness but every part of our identity from vocational to relational, even our sexuality. Far too long, I resisted this practice in full viewing the call as redundant per my belief in God as sovereign author over all things. Little did I realize how I was flipping ‘abide’ on its head as an excuse not to invite God into the deepest, most intimate places.
Accordingly, the reason I struggled to welcome God into my messiness was pride masked by the belief that God should already be where I sought to invite Him.
If you can relate, we can address one of the biggest elephants in the room removing this circular reference: Why aren’t we quicker to God in certain situations? Apart from the ‘scroll’ problem our society has, what keeps us from instantly defaulting to God in times of breaking and shaking?
The answer, in part, lies in how we split our abiding with Christ from inviting God into our every place of our being. Sure, our hearts may be willing, but what about the rest of our inner man? When we sense division communally or even within the confines of our own earthly vessel, when we’re tempted, are we running to God with expectancy, the joy set before us?
These are questions we must ask ourselves daily, not just when small fractures become gaping cervices. Regarding marketplace implications, I will revisit this topic in future months to unpack how this looks on the clock.
For today, I encourage you to take inventory of where there’s spiritual latency in your life. What specific areas are you hesitant to invite God in, are more likely to stiff-arm His presence? Or better put, where are you stalling? In what ways are you quicker to other options apart from God?
Begin to ask these questions as you abide and watch what God will do as He speaks to and through you.
On Monday, I had the privilege of leading devos at Mercy Multiplied’s weekly meeting. Here’s a cut from my share which includes a slice of recent testimony… #lordhavemercy 🦋
…Still, I wonder about those among us, even under our care who are suffering, in full on survival mode. How do we cope as we hope? How do we trust when internally we’re about to bust? How do we endure and suffer the way God intended?
Whatever the answers are, both at the 20,000-foot level and at the surface, the truth is: Suffering is part of our divine call, not just individually but corporately. Often, we take a head-down approach to perseverance. We sense a challenging situation and tackle it through our ‘more than conqueror’ identity. Granted, there is nothing wrong with that in a vacuum; however, the potential problems I see are at least two-fold:
1) In the day-to-day grind, we individualize and compartmentalize our endurance. 2) In the day-to-day chaos, we fail to consider the beauty in our suffering.
The premise of this devo is a charge for us to view perseverance as more than enduring with character but also embracing the beauty in suffering. Are we pausing each day to be still with God, to receive His grace and smiles in the personal and corporate challenges we’re walking in?
I’m reminded of a Point of Grace song from their All the World album. Does anyone remember ‘Heal the Wound’ co-written by Nicole Nordeman? Here is an excerpt from the song:
I have not lived a life that boasts of anything I don’t take pride in what I bring But I’ll build an altar with the rubble that You’ve found me in And every stone will sing of what You can redeem.
Heal the wound but leave the scar A reminder of how merciful You are I am broken, torn apart, take the pieces of this heart And heal the wound but leave the scar.
Don’t let me forget Everything You’ve done for me Don’t let me forget The beauty in the suffering!
This song is music to the ears, inspiration to the heart, and emphasizes certain realities of Scripture.
Jesus, the one we can boast in, has carried our greatest burden (Isaiah 53:3-5) and out of that, still helps us with our sorrows and burdens to this day. Accordingly, we don’t have to strive to ‘make it through’ or ‘get to the other side/the finish line’. We don’t have to carry the burden of making sense of our struggles (as I like to call them – “victories in progress”). Rather, we can lean on Jesus who felt the demands of ministry, who knows what it’s like to feel drained, yet with the joy set before Him, referenced the Father, the ultimate source of His power. Like Him, we’ve been given what we need for goodness and godliness but can still ask for wisdom, help, strength, grace, etc. as paupers in Spirit (Oswald Chambers).
As co-sufferers in Christ (Romans 8:17), we can help others endure through suffering and share with them the comfort we’ve received from God (2 Corinthians 1:3-6) as we bear our own crosses (Matthew 16:24, 1 Peter 2:19-21, Romans 8:16-18). We may feel compromised on account of our weakness, but this can allow the Father’s heart to resonate in realness with people assuming our abiding in Christ is in rhythm.
Difficult circumstances outside of our control can be prompts to remain vertically reliant, to seek first God and His Kingdom. Without adversity, we cannot live as tested, faithful, and dependent vessels. The beauty of suffering is that it gives us the opportunity to become like Jesus, to see our redemption as secure, and our victory as imminent even if the pathway doesn’t make sense, even if the breakthrough and miracles we crave don’t happen the way we anticipated.
Why are these points important? Because they confirm how God works! Specifically, the breakthrough we need, the challenges we endure in Jesus’ name, and the miracles we’re contending for aren’t limited to timely answered prayers (or even answered prayers at all). As Paul writes in his letters, finding freedom isn’t confined to what we get over but what we get through. Put another way, God doesn’t promise us we’ll get over everything, but He does promise we’ll get through anything.
For my wife, Lys, and I, we’ve learned and re-learned this truth many times during our 11-year marriage. Yet, by far, the greatest challenge for us came in August 2021 when our daughter, Jubilee, was diagnosed with intrauterine growth restriction four months ahead of her due date. While Lys and I did everything we could to stay healthy, the combination of Juju’s growth environment and Lys’ preeclampsia proved too much. Only 18 days post-diagnosis, our small Fry would make her worldly debut as a micro preemie coming in at 25 weeks, 10 inches, 1.2 pounds, chronic-lung disease, pulmonary hypertension, less than a <10% of living past day 1, and less than 5% of making it past the first week.
Thankfully, God had other plans and proved Himself mighty as we clung to hope at the end of our rope. While our prayers for Juju to survive the NICU and make it home did not materialize, as our hearts healed, we learned to see her miracle as the impact she made on the thousands of lives, including us, shattering medical expectations and probabilities along the way.
In hindsight, Lys and I know the miracle of Juju’s life would have still been clinched even if she hadn’t lived past the first day. For even as we contended with God in our pain and despair, He was faithful to enlarge our capacity to sense His sovereignty and the sweetness of His nearness, His tender hand holding ours.
Now, were we beyond angry and tempted to fold on certain days? Absolutely! I remember in the weeks following Juju’s death, wrestling intensely with God, asking Him why He would let her overcome her greatest afflictions only to succumb to a freak bout of sepsis. God, why wouldn’t you keep the miracle going having sustained it this long?
Having successfully stiff-armed the why’s (I.e. those subtle entitlements that tempt you to think you must have it all together or understand why you’re going through what you’re going through), throughout Juju’s life, I couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by them in the aftermath. The mental torment was off the charts and on the precipice of depression, I was in desperate need of a spark heading into the last quarter of 2022.
That spark would manifest as a dream right before Juju’s Celebration of Life. In the dream, I’m thrust back in time storybook style. A dusty road, a mass of people, and one Jesus walking in front of me. In a unique role reversal, I’m the woman with the bleeding problem trying to keep pace with Jesus yet unable to do so. Desperate to touch Jesus’ robe, I cry out: ‘Jesus, can you please slow down? I’m trying to get to you. If I can just touch a piece of your robe, I know you can heal Juju!’
Suddenly, I’m on my knees with a warm hand on my shoulder. I can’t make out the face in front of me, but I know such a presence could only be Jesus. As I ponder how He jettisoned a football field in a millisecond, I hear Him speak to me: “You were never meant to touch my robe. You were meant to believe in and follow me. Now, look behind you and see how many are following me because you kept going.”
I look back and see a new body of people who weren’t there before. Picking up steam, I turn my head back to where the voice came from only to wake up…with a fresh understanding of the miracle Jesus accomplished during Juju’s life and how it would continue.
As for us in this room, I share this testimony to remind us how God is faithful to give purpose to suffering and anoint our steps as we walk through adversity…with Him. Sometimes, it takes seasons of discomfort and/or dislodging for a worldview or perspective to reset. Sometimes, it takes a walk through fire for us to see how God can redeem fallenness and fallen spirits alike.
My final encouragement to you is to not view your weaknesses, your limitations, your incompleteness, as something to ‘get through’ or stitch together. Don’t stiff-upper lip and head-down the challenges in front of you, blindly trusting they’ll blow over. Rather persevere in hope…with character…and with your heads up. After all, how can we be still and know He is God if we’re not postured as such? Position yourself to see God’s goodness within the grander scheme unfolding. If you come face to face with what makes you feel uncomfortable, rejoice! If you confront a situation that makes you feel unsettled…rejoice! If you’re reminded of something in your past or hit the wall of your finiteness and feel incomplete…rejoice…knowing we were never created to be completed in this life anyway.
And so, take joy and heart together. Embrace childlikeness in the sense you don’t need to make sense of your circumstances to reference and follow Jesus. Despite what others may say, you can be earnest and eager simultaneously and find peace in times when the lights of life turn off. As long as you let your light shine before men and stiff-arm those why’s, you will reach a promised land with rebuilt temple walls…in the name and wake of Christ.
Those, my friends, are just a few of the many beauties in suffering the way God intended. Again, the why’s, the how to’s, the hurdles we clear may vary, but the nature of God in the presence of our distress is absolute and a foundation for us to walk confidently on.
As a sequel to my two-part series on unhealthy work environments, I want to discuss some common traits of vibrant work cultures. While some may think a healthy workplace is simply the opposite of whatever makes it toxic, the reality is what defines healthy versus unhealthy is not always black and white.
Accordingly, I’m drafting the list below, not only to provide select commentary but also for you to add your thoughts in the comments below.
Let’s jump in…
A healthy, thriving, non-toxic work culture…
1. Fosters a learning environment that gives each employee opportunities to sharpen professional skills and understanding relative to their role. 2. Hires qualified, emotionally mature, high character people to fill leadership and middle management positions. 3. Empowers leaders to guide their teams while developing/maintaining efficient systems and processes/procedures. 4. Promotes an atmosphere of transparency, accountability, and feedback. 5. Prioritizes clear top/down communication and collaboration between departments. 6. Abides by the Jethro Principles and maintains orderly structures. 7. Puts best practices into writing. 8. Understands the value of networking and giving back to the community. 9. Treats, handles, and takes care of all employees equally and fairly. 10. Facilitates positive working relationship/one’s sense of belonging and inspires performance through trust, not fear. 11. Advocates occupational/psychological safety, work/life balance, and mental health. 12. Knows the difference between influence and control in the context of social stewardship. 13. Discourages fraternal vibes, silos, gossip, politics, and all forms of manipulative maneuvering.
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