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.
It’s a refreshingly cloudy afternoon in the dead of summer as I write this, the dog days along with the 8:00 pm CT sunsets knocking on the doorstep. In short time, a new school year will be dawning; the commutes will be longer. What better time to return to a tradition unlike any other?
A month post solstice, I’m riding on a relative high. Five months since the infamous dog attack, we Fry’s are starting to sense momentum for the first time in almost four years. In house, the freak accident from February still bears weight as a microcosm to the decade, though the impacts have since dissipated. No question, I’m [super] proud of my family for how we continue to hold for dear life (in all respects) and have rebounded in the wake of an additional hardship, the Juju effect in full swing. 🦋 Granted, the assists from Vanderbilt to Refuge Center have been needed, yet the moves we’ve made regarding therapy, counseling, litigation, even education are paying off. The end result is a victorious ‘ah ha’ on the heels of a down year we refuse to let haunt us, precedence be darned.
At the Q2 turn, the premise of this year is as simple and it is straightforward: Slowly but surely, Lys and I are getting life and lives back on track, taking back some of what was stolen from us – the bitter dregs of ’23, a fading memory somewhere in the shadows and beyond the rear-view. As mentioned last December, last year’s second half was rough, dare I say historically so. To be honest, I still have questions I’m struggling to reconcile; however, this hasn’t kept 2024 from being the sweet eminence we hoped and prayed for last New Year’s Day. As we rise, we press on in new stride and gear, the smile rate at its most frequent since 2020 ironically enough.
Apart from the home front, the contrast between this year and last is no greater felt than the 9-5. Confirmed by prophetic voices last November, the clean slate has proven not only to be what I needed but more importantly, what the Doctor ordered. Any time you can serve an organization that doubles down as a safe place where mission, community, and treating people as diverse in function, co-equal in value, are steady cornerstones, good great things are going to happen. For the first time in my career, I feel understood and appreciated across the board in an environment where there’s no unnecessary funk, toxicity, or division. Day by day, I’m learning more of what God has equipped me to do as those around me believe the best in each other without the agenda of boxing others up. As Gandalf told King Theoden, “Look upon your land…
…a scene I resonate all the more to these days.
Concerning church life, while there’s plenty of direction to be defined, we’re excited to be inching back into healthy rhythms again. Certainly, we’ve enjoyed seeing what God has done in different bodies the past year and building connections within those circles. Yet, having a default fellowship location, as many of us can attest, is a gift to behold.
As for ministry outside the church, our While We’re Waiting small group for bereaved parents has officially launched and is open to mothers and/or fathers coping with child loss. Last week, I shared on Missionary Radio about the nonprofit as well as the community plant Lys and I are seeding in middle Tennessee. Honestly, I haven’t been this stirred about a God-given assignment since the TDOT Essentials Bible Study in 2019. Though the demographic is niche, we’re all in on this call to partner with God in binding the brokenhearted and helping the mourning know how blessed they are. As Lys and I have experienced, apart from those with compensation expectations, there’s not enough people willing to navigate our darkest hours; hence, why we’re eager to champion this trail moving forward as we hope to not only reach more bereaved parents but help the church realize how essential nourishing the grieving heart is outside those staccato moments on Sunday morning.
Of course, there’s more I could say at this point, especially in detailing the status of special projects Lys and I are working on; however, I’ll leave some space for the fall as well as the 2024 Year in Review post in five months. Admittingly, many of the family narratives this decade have been challenging, but I suppose this justifies the sharing of this update. As difficult as recent years have been, there’s wisdom in documenting the journey out from the valleys we find ourselves in. For me, putting words to progress is a means of worship and delighting in God’s sovereignty. While our creative outlets may vary, I encourage you to express gratitude in similar fashion, even if the primary inspiration is to realign and reset course.
In closing, I part with one of my favorite Bible chapter introductions, 2 Corinthians 1:3-11 (ESV). Between this Scripture and the podcast above, I’ll let them capture the ‘selah’ for today.
God of All Comfort
“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. For as we share abundantly in Christ’s sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too. If we are afflicted, it is for your comfort and salvation; and if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which you experience when you patiently endure the same sufferings that we suffer. Our hope for you is unshaken, for we know that as you share in our sufferings, you will also share in our comfort.
For we do not want you to be unaware, brothers, of the affliction we experienced in Asia. For we were so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself. Indeed, we felt that we had received the sentence of death. But that was to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead. He delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us. On him we have set our hope that he will deliver us again. You also must help us by prayer, so that many will give thanks on our behalf for the blessing granted us through the prayers of many.”
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.
Some quick scratch notes on our work identity as seen specifically through Genesis 3:
Scripture:
17 And to Adam he said, “Because you have listened to the voice of your wife and have eaten of the tree of which I commanded you, ‘You shall not eat of it,’ cursed is the ground because of you; in pain you shall eat of it all the days of your life; 18 thorns and thistles it shall bring forth for you; and you shall eat the plants of the field. 19 By the sweat of your face you shall eat bread, till you return to the ground, for out of it you were taken; for you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”
20 The man called his wife’s name Eve, because she was the mother of all living.21 And the Lord God made for Adam and for his wife garments of skins and clothed them. 22 Then the Lord God said, “Behold, the man has become like one of us in knowing good and evil. Now, lest he reach out his hand and take also of the tree of life and eat, and live forever—” 23 therefore the Lord God sent him out from the garden of Eden to work the ground from which he was taken. 24 He drove out the man, and at the east of the garden of Eden he placed the cherubim and a flaming sword that turned every way to guard the way to the tree of life.
Scratch Notes
We don’t work because of the fall. We work because God intended it to be a divine partnership!
A primary consequence of original sin as it relates to work are the thorns and thistles, the strife we experience within our occupational calling.
The thorns and thistles can look a number of different ways; however, they often involve the collision of our depravities, the interlocking of our sins and limitations, the lack of justice and fairness in some cases.
While our walk with God can prune us as vessels in the marketplace, we must realize our effectiveness is tied to our vertical reliance, our commitment to being like Christ on the clock.
Again, we were created to work as co-partners with Christ/ambassadors for God’s Kingdom as part of our original design (see Adam’s animal naming assignment in Genesis 2:20-22). Despite the fall, we still have a vocational calling. The problem is the overflow of grace, peace, joy, etc. in our jobs can be significantly harder.
While sin’s entrance into the world reversed the natural current in which we effort upstream, our intentionality to be faithful can become rhythmic as we depend on God. This is largely why discovering Him is so important!
God is with you always, so lean on Him when things aren’t working out. After all, He wants the marketplace to be the market space in which He speaks and moves! Why not cry out to Him when you’ve overwhelmed, when you’re burnt out, when you’re being misused or mistreated? Remember He wants to hear from you, so don’t you dare stay silent in times of trouble.
So last week, I’m revisiting the prodigal parable when it dawns on me: Before there could be a party (v. Luke 15:23) for the son, there first had to be ‘fashion statement’ (v. 22), an opportunity for him to know why he was being celebrated.
Like others, my last read through of Luke 15 wasn’t the first time in which I visualized the father decking his son with boughs of jolly. To be honest, I used to skim over this part as a side detail. ‘Nice! The dad is thrilled his son is back,’ I’d think to myself.
But having marinated in this passage further, I can’t help but wonder if this excerpt is the most profound part of the entire story.
For starters, not only does the passage highlight a daily reality of God’s father-heart of love, but it also emphasizes the progression of God’s ministry of reconciliation, a progression as follows:
God’s confirmation of our identity
God’s admittance of ‘as we are’ in light of who we are
God’s celebration of #1 + #2
Per the list above, part of the revelation for me lies in how easily we skip from #1 to #3 when reading the parable. We remember the father’s compassion (v. 20) and the party he throws (v. 23), yet we forget how the father loved on purpose in between as evidenced by his desire to adorn his son with specific garments:
The robe representing a fresh outpouring of grace…
The ring representing a symbol of sonship and authority…
The sandals representing a charge for the son to walk afresh and anew (under both coverings)…
…pretty remarkable, right?
Clearly, the father wasn’t content on just running to embrace his son.
Was he overjoyed? Of course! Was he relieved? Absolutely.
However, as much as the father wanted to welcome his son, he wanted even more so to establish him into a renewed sense of identity, place, and purpose! Accordingly, one has much to gain connecting the parable to real life.
‘Cause truth is: We’re ALL prodigals in some capacity. We’ve all stumbled into rough places and tough times at one point or another. We’ve all encountered rude awakenings involving unexpected setbacks, and in some cases, our own depravity.
Yet, when we receive the power of this parable, we ultimately discover how the story doesn’t end with God forgiving us. In fact, it’s only the beginning!
For even in the wake of our setbacks, our Papa God never stops seeking a way to reconcile us as heirs with an inheritance (Romans 8:17), as anointed children blessed with a destiny. Put another way, God always has a party invitation with your name on it secured in an envelope sealed with grace. And while you’re not forced to open it, if you decide to, you’ll not only find directions, but also information on how to prepare for it. How awesome is that?
The next time you’re tempted to mentally wallow with the pigs, remember God isn’t satisfied to slap an “I forgive you” onto your wrongdoings, your past hurts and failures, and call it a day.
Moreover, God wants to remind you…
…your identity is not lost… …your place at the table is unclaimed… …and oh, by the way, when you choose to change, heaven celebrates. Like a good neighbor, He’ll not only help you arrive at a better place, He, by His Spirit, will help you stay there, too.
My encouragement to you today is to claim the robe, the ring, and the sandals, put on the garments of praise (Isaiah 61:3), and live knowing you’ve been fully reinstated into wholeness with God. Sure, there may be days when your self-perception seems hopelessly chained to dark, dreary memories, but that doesn’t mean there’s not a way to walk in your sonship!
For me, whenever I find myself in that taxing tug-of-war, I…
Confess I’ve been forgiven and set free…
I declare my identity as a mighty man/son of God…
Recommit my ways unto the Lord.
Abiding by this pathway, I affirm God’s confirmation, admittance, and celebration of who I am and *wallah*…God’s mission of reconciliation is complete in that moment.
Well, folks, I’m out of words today. As always, if you need prayer, a word of encouragement, a dose of stimulating dialogue, Lys and I are here.
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