Jesus is the Answer

I said goodbye to one of my favorite people in the world last week. 

One of my dad’s best friends from childhood lost his battle with cancer last week.  Ted was 59.  He still acted like he was 25, though.  Everyone who knew him felt his time on earth was far too short.  He sure used that time to live life well, though.

We had a celebration of his life with family and friends.  It was amazing to see how many people’s lives were touched by this one man.  People were invited to share memories and stories about him with the group.  Many told funny stories, some shared sweet memories, and some just said some final words.

One thing became very obvious as they were speaking, though.  Ted knew that it wasn’t all about him.  He could completely captivate a room, but never once made you feel like he was stealing the show.  He was the life of the party, but never demanded attention. He always had something to say, but was more eager to hear from you. He was always in the conversation for you and made you feel like you were important.

I truly can’t think of a bad memory with Ted.  All of our camping trips included thunderstorms – some hurricanes – and yet all are good memories.  He helped teach me to camp, hike, ski, and maybe a little about cigars and liquor, too.  He made me tougher, pushing me on harder hikes – always calling me the “flatlander.”  He challenged me, encouraged me, and never failed to make me laugh.

Ted was a special man.  He brought joy to everyone he was around.  His death brings sorrow.  The sorrow, I believe, comes because of the separation.  We know that Ted is in Heaven.  He is not in pain and he is full of joy.  And yet we still feel sorrow.

Death is painful because of separation.  We were created for relationship, not separation.  We were created for life, not death.  It is because of sin that death became part of our reality. Death is a tangible, painful reminder of the brokenness of this world and inability of the world to satisfy our souls. 

If we discover a desire within us that nothing in this world can satisfy, also we should begin to wonder if perhaps we were created for another world. – C. S. Lewis

And yet death is not the final answer.  Because of the death and resurrection of Christ, death has ultimately and finally been defeated.  For those who trust in Him, a life far greater than we can imagine awaits us on the other side of death.

Now if we died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him.  For we know that since Christ was raised from the dead, he cannot die again; death no longer has mastery over him.  The death he died, he died to sin once for all; but the life he lives, he lives to God.  In the same way, count yourselves dead to sin but alive to God in Christ Jesus. – Romans 6.8-11

There will always be a longing that this world cannot satisfy.  No matter the depth of our grief or height of our joy, there will be a void.  Death exposes that void in our lives.  We desperately seek answers in the face of death.  We seek to explain the void and pain we feel. 

We don’t always get the answer we are seeking, though.  For good reason.

One of my pastors reminded me of this as he was speaking last week.  He said, “Too often, we want to trust in an answer rather than in a Person.”  Jesus calls us to trust not in the answers we so desperately seek from Him, but in Him and Him alone.

Mark Driscoll summarized this well in speaking of tragedy and death.  “Sin is the problem.  Death is the consequence.  Jesus is the answer.”

“Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you?  And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also.  And you know the way to where I am going.”  Thomas said to him, “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?”  Jesus said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.  – John 14.1-6

Pray, Sit, Watch, Listen

At our leadership dinner the other night at Grace Church, Matt Williams was talking about a particular ministry opportunity we may have in the future.  He shared how God seemed to be leading us in a certain direction with this opportunity, but there has been no “burning bush” moment, no audible voice regarding it.  So, he said, we will continue to pray, let it sit out there, and watch for doors to open or close.

This is essentially what I am doing right now with several things in my life.  I feel like God has started prompting me to make some movements in regards to missions and ministry, but I don’t feel like I have definite direction.  There seem to be several “options” out there, but I’m not sure which is the right one.  It’s possible that none of them is actually the correct direction.  That is easily an overwhelming thought for me.  Much anxiety surrounds the unknown and decisions about the future.

So when Matt shared where the church was and what we are doing in regards to this particular opportunity, I was comforted and encouraged.  I don’t feel so lost without all of the answers and I don’t feel like I’m proceeding or waiting in error.  God has called me to take some small steps in a few different directions, and I know that He will soon ask me to take some bigger steps.  With these steps, though, comes instruction.  As I move, God teaches.  My job is to listen.

Listening sometimes is the hardest part for me.  Action makes me feel productive.  Action feeds the achiever in me.  It is often a struggle for me to sit, pray, watch and listen.  But unless I can stop the busyness and quite myself, hearing from God is almost impossible.  And listening is imperative.  I feel like I’m on the cusp of change, but the direction is unknown.  God is giving me direction one step at a time.  I need to hear from Him.

So as I move, with each step, I must pause.  Pray, sit, watch, and listen.

The Wrong Step

Many times the reason I’m afraid to take the next step is that I’m worried it will be the wrong step.

I hate being wrong.  I hate the feeling that comes with being wrong – feeling ignorant, incapable, naïve.  It hurts my delicate pride.

Lately, as I have been searching for the next step, I feel like God is saying, “Even if you take a wrong step, which you will, you still need to take a step.”  He has been challenging me to move, to risk, to step.  He knows that I’m probably going to move in the wrong direction at some point.  And He knows I need to.

Here’s why…I’m typically very capable and in control.  That’s not me bragging or anything.  That’s just a reality of life for most of us.  I can easily rely on myself and my own strength to get things done.  I need to learn that my strength is not sufficient.  True strength is only found in my weakness.

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” – 2 Corinthians 12.9

I need to learn that my plans are worthless without God directing. 

The heart of man plans his way,
but the LORD establishes his steps. – Proverbs 16.9

I believe God has to teach me these lessons now because I must be able to rely totally on Him in order to go where He is taking me.  I’m not sure where I’m headed but I know it will require faith.

And without faith it is impossible to please him, for whoever would draw near to God must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who seek him. – Hebrews 11.6

Ultimately, I need to be humbled to realize that I am not perfect.  I am not God.  I am not in control.  But I have access to and community with God, the controller of the universe who tells the sun to shine and the waves to crash.  He can handle the tiny steps and missteps of my life.