Life is made of many lessons. The situations that we intentionally choose to put ourselves in is up to us. What we choose to actually take away and learn is also up to us. And, yet, in the midst of it all, God is also involved, calling us to our purpose, and to a greater understanding of Him. This trip that I am planning to go on to Africa is not the end, nor is it the beginning of a journey, but it is a step along the way. Let me tell you a little more.
This year, like every other year of my life has had a lot to throw at me, and through it all, I've always tried to keep things in control and follow the American dream, which seems to, if you watch enough television, revolve around nice cars and a comfy retirement account. And yet, that all seems so empty, almost worthless as I think about the purposes that God has planned for all of us. How does a retirement account compare to eternity? How does a nice car compare to seeing a grandchild born?
Last fall I attended a men's retreat with our church. I expected to be challenged, but God had more in mind than I knew. I was really hit with some of the big questions in life, like "why am I here?" and "where is God in all of this?". We were all challenged to not waste our life (John Piper's challenge that rocked a generation) , and to lay our lives down (The critical question by David Platt) . In my journey along the past few months, I've had a few things that have somehow made an impression in my thick skull, and I thought I'd share as much as I am able to articulate on two of them. They will probably not completely make sense to you, but bear with me.
How many times can we look into the sky and not really see it? I mean really, can you think of how many times you actually looked at the sky today and actually saw it?
We've all heard the story of the two fish: There are these two young fish swimming along, and they happen to meet an older fish swimming the other way, who nods at them and says, “Morning, boys. How’s the water?” And the two young fish swim on for a bit, and then eventually one of them looks over at the other and goes, “What is water?”
We kind of laugh at that story, but let me ask you this. How many times do we take a breath every single day and not think about the vast sphere of 21% oxygen that we "swim" in every single day, and without which we would die within minutes?
C.S. Lewis in "Meditation in a Toolshed" gives us this analogy:
I was standing today in the dark toolshed. The sun was shining outside, and through the crack at the top of the door there came a sunbeam. From where I stood that beam of light, with the specks of dust floating in it, was the most striking thing in the place. Everything else was almost pitch-black. I was seeing the beam, not seeing things by it. Then I moved, so that the beam fell on my eyes. Instantly the whole previous picture vanished. I saw no toolshed, and (above all) no beam. Instead I saw, framed in the irregular cranny at the top of the door, green leaves moving on the branches of a tree outside and beyond that, 90 odd million miles away, the sun. Looking along the beam, and looking at the beam are very different experiences.
God is very real, and he is present, and powerful, in every single moment of our life. The universe holds together by his great might. We need to only open our eyes and we will see Him in the breath that we breath, the sky that demonstrates his Glory, the weight of our body in the chair being a force designed by Him. He is real. He is very real.
Psalm 8 says it well...
When I consider your heavens,
the work of your fingers,
the moon and the stars,
which you have set in place,
what is mankind that you are mindful of them,
human beings that you care for them?
You have made them a little lower than the angels
and crowned them with glory and honor.
You made them rulers over the works of your hands;
you put everything under their feet:
all flocks and herds,
and the animals of the wild,
the birds in the sky,
and the fish in the sea,
all that swim the paths of the seas.
Lord, our Lord,
how majestic is your name in all the earth!
In the past few months, I have been caring for my youngest daughter. I am so proud of her. She demonstrates resilience in the face of innumerable health issues that have robbed her of her vitality, and yet, she is the most creative and productive person that I know. I have come to realise that she has a dependence on me, and that this is part of our journey together through life. And though I would want her to be completely healed, I would not want her to not be dependent on me when I am needed. This lesson is not so much about her, but it is about me.
I have learned that I am not myself independent. In fact, I don't know exactly how to describe it, but let me give it a try. Independence is actually a sickness. We are all sick. We think that by putting our two coins on top of each other we have accomplished much when we have accomplished nothing. We have a very heavy reliance upon God and upon what he has done. It is only by relying on upon Him every single day that we become aligned with his purpose and plan for our lives. It is only when we admit that we are sick and admit that we have a dependency on Him that we become well, and when we forget about our dependency, we again become sick.
Jeremiah 17:5-9 says it well:
Thus says the Lord:
“Cursed is the man who trusts in man
and makes flesh his strength,
whose heart turns away from the Lord.
He is like a shrub in the desert,
and shall not see any good come.
He shall dwell in the parched places of the wilderness,
in an uninhabited salt land.
“Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord,
whose trust is the Lord.
He is like a tree planted by water,
that sends out its roots by the stream,
and does not fear when heat comes,
for its leaves remain green,
and is not anxious in the year of drought,
for it does not cease to bear fruit.”
The heart is deceitful above all things,
and desperately sick;
who can understand it?