For When Outrage is the Measure of Your Humanity

Even my own living room feels loud today.

It’s not just the kids, all of whom have a snow day, clamoring to get a word in, arguing about who gets the last of the macaroni and cheese, or fighting about who has to clean up the mess in the bathroom {how do y’all get boys to lift up the toilet seat, anyway?}. It’s not just the plow driving by, the kids playing outside next door, or the TV blasting during rest time. It’s the noise of the world seeping in through the cracks of social media, trending hashtags, and dire news updates.

The world is a very loud place these days, and rightly so. We’re called to be a voice for the voiceless, and it’s inspiring to see much of the country rise up as defenders of justice, mercy, and love. But the world is also an incredibly overwhelming place at the moment, and the barrage of media outrage makes it even more so. The rhetoric is full of urgency, panic, division, condemnation, confusion, and fear. But you know what? That’s not how God works...

While the world obsesses about the Muslim ban, the voice of God calms our anxious hearts by redirecting us from circumstance back to Him--His character, His faithfulness, His mercy and grace.

While the world worries about what will become of our country--our women and children, our gay and lesbian friends, our black and Muslim neighbors--God comforts us with the fact that He’s close to the brokenhearted.

While the world publically condemns each other left and right, pointing screaming fingers as the divide between us grows, God convicts us personally and uniquely as we meet with Him in secret.

While the media discourages the masses with the latest biased, breaking news, God encourages us with the truth that He’s still on the throne.

While the world frightens with division, wars, and rumors of wars, God reassures us, reminding us not to panic. He knows, though we don’t often understand, that the world must experience birthing pains before He can return.

While social media rushes us, quickly pushing us from one urgent need to the next, God stills us. He reminds us in a small voice that though the world seems large and scary, He’s in control. He’s not caught off guard by any of it, no matter how horrible, and He’s not done writing our story yet.

The decibel at which one screams on the internet determines neither the caliber of one’s character nor the devoutness of one’s faith. We were never called to carry the weight of the world on our shoulders but to simply bow to the One who has already done so, letting Him, and only Him, direct our path. Don’t let the internet boss your heart around today, but choose to rest in the Prince of Peace, who, at this very moment, is still working on our behalf to proclaim good news to the poor, freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, and to set the oppressed free. {Luke 4:18}

Learning to Trust

I pulled out of the parking lot and came to a stop at the light, the air quiet save for the rhythmic click of the right turn signal.

“Turn left here,” my husband says.

“Really? Because the only way I know how to get there is by turning right.”

“Just trust me. Turn left.”

“Okay, but I was going to turn right, and then make a left down the next street, and in a little while we’d come out by Walgreen’s, but I guess I’ll trust you and turn left.”

“Oh, this is you trusting me, huh?” He says with a chuckle.

“Yeah, well, I do trust you, but that’s the only way I know how to get there.”

The light turned green, and I turned left.

********************

In hindsight this seems like a ridiculous conversation. My husband is way more directionally savvy than I am, and from past experience, I have absolutely no reason not to trust him. It is, however, a very revealing conversation. Out of the overflow of the heart, the mouth speaks, right? While a good social worker will tell you there’s a reason for every behavior, there’s also a heart condition behind the curtain of every conversation, and what this one tells me is I have an issue with trust, specifically regarding the unknown.

It hasn’t been the only red flag lately but one in a series of realizations that have given me eyes to see an underbelly of pride and fear I’d been blind to before: I’m afraid of the unknown, sometimes so much that it prevents me from listening and obeying, or at the very least, putting up a fight before I do so.

Most of humanity can probably relate, though. The fact is, the unknown is scary. Not being in control is scary. But it’s just like us humans to focus on what is being asked rather than whom is doing the asking. The reality is, God is fully aware we don’t know what’s going to happen next. He’s God, and we’re not. But God doesn’t ask us to focus on the unknown when choosing whether or not to obey. He asks us to focus on Him.

Do you trust Him?

I mean, do you really? What if He asks you to turn left, and the only road you're familiar with veers right? How much do you lean on your own understanding instead of the One who gave us the understanding we own?

These are some of the questions rolling around in my head this week. Maybe they are in yours now, too?

Holding tightly to anything that isn’t ours to cling to is ultimately a burden, and one that needs to be laid down, however begrudgingly, for us to live freely and lightly. For us to learn the unforced rhythms of grace. While we try to control and manage our surroundings, God invites us to come to Him and recover our lives, find rest for our souls, and live free.

An Anti-Resolution: Learning the Unforced Rhythms of Grace

Subconsciously, I was probably hoping the calendar flipping to a new year would somehow alter circumstance in our favor. That life would slow down, or at least we would stop shuffling our weary feet from one crisis to the next. That 2017 would look a little more like thriving and less like the surviving we’d grown accustomed to over the past difficult year.

Alas, we entered the new year with a pervasive, chronic cough, an ear infection that kept the baby (and everyone else) up at night, and more things to accomplish than there were hours in the day in multiple areas of life. And, honestly? We're just tired. Really tired.

While I don’t want to be one of those depressing writers who constantly wallows in the difficulty of life, I do want to be real. I want to paint an accurate picture of reality, with all its warts and hardships, while simultaneously weaving the work of Christ in and through it.

This year I want to trade in the yoke of slavery to circumstance for a perspective that is higher and greater than my own. One guided by His reins.

I want to shed the yoke of “keeping up” and put on a lighter one of grace and realistic expectations.

I want to exchange the yoke of broadness for one of focus--doing well the things that really matter and forgetting the rest.

I want to lay down the burden of distraction and pick up the gift of presence and paying attention..

I want to trade in the lie of comparison and self-doubt and shield myself instead with the truth of identity and purpose in Christ.

In the midst of chaos, which often demolishes my expectations like a wrecking ball, I long to find rest for my soul in His unforced rhythms of grace. Call it an anti-resolution, if you will. Join me?

What are some of your goals, resolutions, or anti-resolutions, as we are well on our way into 2017?