Tag Archives: Devotional

The Nature of God When the Sun Goes Out and the Rain Comes Down

Eerie.  

Unnatural. 

Awe-inspiring. 

Within a short span, we went from sharing photos of uncanny eclipse shadows to videos of hungry floodwaters rising. 

America stood still while time turned in on itself and twilight became midday, calling out confused crickets while the sun went out and summer heat cooled. We haven’t found a way to control the moon. It’s not customizable. There’s no “cue eclipse” app for homo sapiens to adjust the lighting for planet earth. Vikings, the plague, the age of exploration, steam engines, automobiles, space travel – it doesn’t matter. Before germs squirmed under a microscope, humans stood in awe. After carrying pocket-sized computer phones, humans stand in awe. 

The deafening roar of world events quieted. Frantic efforts at viral marketing campaigns stilled. The grinding push of the mundane halted. We stood and we marveled. 

Shortly after, a hurricane showed up on meteorologist maps. It slowed in the Gulf of Mexico. There are so many false alarms, and it appeared to weaken. Then Hurricane Harvey got a second wind. Suddenly bumping up in power and severity, it charged towards land, shearing roofs, throwing trees, and dumping unimaginable amounts of rain. 

The marveling delight we took in watching, childlike, as the moon marched triumphantly in front of the sun, turned to marveling dismay. We marveled, but the joy shifted to heartbreak. The familiar became strange. While we trust the sun to burn, cloud cover or not, midday, we found it darkening. While we assume we walk through front doorways, stepping over the threshold, we found a grandma leaving her house through the front door on the back of a jet ski, couch floating nearby. We assume crickets chirp in the evening and furniture stays where we put it. Sometimes our assumptions are blocked out, bringing shadow. Sometimes our assumptions are lifted up, flipped over, and sent down the river that used to be a freeway. 

Every generous act of giving, with every perfect gift, is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change. 

James 1:17 reminds us of this: the sun can go out; the winds can topple towers; the floodwaters can transform landscapes, but there is no variation or shadow resulting from change in the nature of God, the Father of lights. Within the Triune nature of God, there is love, giving and receiving. But even if the crickets come at noon, even if the couch floats out the front door, even if the roads become rivers, the good nature of God doesn’t change. It is more reliable than the movements of the heavens and more reliable than the infrastructure that keeps water in the faucets and power in the outlets. And every good thing – awe at natural beauty, gratitude for good weather, bountiful harvest, redemptive stories of kindness and hope – every complete gift, every generous act of giving, is from above. 

The assurance that God remains reliable, dependable, and good is not a flip, trite coffee mug assurance. It is weather-beaten and muscle-weary. The assurance that even nature may change but that God doesn’t change is a rebellious stand against ideas of gods who are fickle, moody and egocentric. The idea that nature doesn’t contain or limit the Divine is revolutionary.  

Up may become down, day may become night, land may become sea, and it doesn’t change the timeless nature of God. The solar system can reel and God remains the Good Shepherd who puts everything on hold to seek out one lost sheep. The path of totality may march across the land and God remains the woman who loses a coin, lights a lamp, sweeps the entire house, and calls her neighbors to celebrate when it is found. The earth groans and Jesus looks up and sees Zacchaeus taking refuge in a tree above the swirling tide of people below. Creation creaks out labor pains while friends dig frantically through a roof to lower their ailing friend to Jesus who is teaching in a house when broken humanity comes down from above into his view. 

Do you see? You don’t need eclipse glasses or news footage from an affiliate station helicopter to see. God sees. God doesn’t change with the flood levels.  

Everything else is up for grabs, but not the nature of God.  

Is your heart weary? Are your arms heavy? Have you fought tough battles? Do you feel like your body has betrayed you? Are you lamenting the loss of relationships that were supposed to last and didn’t? 

Come, friend. Come, all who labor. Come, all who are weary. God will give you rest. And God will not rest until you have been found. Nothing can dim that or wash it away. 

 

Great is Thy faithfulness, O God my Father;
There is no shadow of turning with Thee,
Thou changest not, Thy compassions they fail not,
As Thou hast been, Thou forever wilt be.
 

Great is Thy faithfulness!
Great is Thy faithfulness!
Morning by morning new mercies I see
All I have needed Thy hand hath provided
Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord unto me! 

 

© 1923. Ren. 1951 Hope Publishing Co., Carol Stream, IL 60188
www.hopepublishing.com


 


Feature image by Jongsun Lee on Unsplash

Carolyn Moore ~ When You See a Turtle on a Fencepost

I wrote this a couple of years ago, when I was going through what I can now see was a cyclical pattern of emotional ups and downs in ministry. This year, the Lord has seen fit to bring healing so I’m in a better place spiritually and emotionally, but I thank God for good souls who have been such an encouragement along the way, like my District Superintendent. 

Everybody goes through seasons of spiritual “stuckness,” days or weeks or sometimes even months when you just can’t seem to get out of your spiritual bad mood. If you’ve had that experience or are there now, you’re not alone. This is a normal part of the spiritual journey. It is not a sign of weakness; to the contrary, it may well be a sign that God is about to launch you into a new season. 

I’ve been spiritually stuck for a while, dreadfully stuck. Even though I know it is a normal part of the journey, when I’m in the middle of it I’m not usually able to think rationally about it. I whine. I complain. I rail against God. 

I was in the middle of that valley last week when I met with my district superintendent for an evaluation. I appreciated being able to share honestly. I wanted him to tell me what I’m doing wrong, what I’ve done to get myself here and how to get out of this. “I just feel like I’m stuck,” I complained. “Like I’m sitting on a fence.” 

With that, my DS reached into his backpack, pulled out a stuffed turtle and dropped it on the table between us. One has to wonder what kind of person just happens to have a turtle in his backpack, but that’s another story for another day. 

“You know what they say about a turtle on a fencepost, right?” he asked. “If you see a turtle on a fencepost, you know he didn’t get there by himself.”  

Wait … what? Are you saying that God put me here? 

My gut reaction wasn’t healthy. Mean children put turtles on fenceposts to watch them suffer. So is God a mean child who enjoys watching me suffer? If that is my view, then my understanding of the nature of God is severely impacted. If God is out to get me, then I’d better approach all of life from a self-protective place. 

On the other hand, if God is good then my self-protective posture betrays what I know to be true. Am I preaching God’s goodness while I function as if he is against me? 

If you see a turtle on a fencepost, you know he didn’t get there by himself. 

If God is good and God has a hand in putting me in this place (even an uncomfortable place), then why? What if God has me here to prepare me for something deeper? What if this is not a stuck place but a spiritual incubator, a season of preparation much like what John the Baptist prophesied? “Prepare the way of the Lord. Make straight paths for his coming.” Maybe if I’m in a spot, God put me there not to be mean but because he loves me and sees in me what I don’t see in myself. 

What if God sometimes puts us up on fenceposts to save us from ourselves, or to keep us from running out into the road (you know, I’ve never seen a turtle outrun a car)? What if God has us up there to keep us from running … period?What if he has us up there to wear us out, so that when we get our feet on the ground again, we’ll be willing to rest trustingly just where we’ve been placed? 

What if trusting a good and merciful God means rooting ourselves in that goodness rather than our circumstances, believing that even fence-post seasons can be fruitful? 

 

Rev. Carolyn Moore blogs at www.artofholiness.com. 

 

 


Featured image courtesy Marcus Dietachmair via Unsplash.

Andy Stoddard ~ Our Most Important Meeting

There is so much that we can learn about God, our life, our calling, by looking at the life of Jesus Christ.  He can teach us how to love, how to be faithful, how to be holy, how to see to live out the good news of God’s love each day.

And today we see something very significant, and very important to Jesus’ life and his ministry.  Look at what we see in Mark 1: 35-36: “In the morning, while it was still very dark, he got up and went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed. And Simon and his companions hunted for him.” 

Of all the things in the Bible that strike me, this is among those that always brings me the most wonder.  Jesus Christ – second person of the Trinity, of the very nature and being of the Father and the Spirit – knew the importance of prayer. 

Prayer, at its most basic level, is about communion and relationship with God.  Jesus wanted to be in the presence of the Father.  So no matter how busy his path, no matter what was going on, he was going to spend time with his Father.

Because only time spent with his Father made walking the path possible.  Only time spent with the Father gives clarity, gives direction, gives strength, gives vision, gives what we need. 

Time spent in prayer is never wasted.  Time spent in prayer is not about getting our wishes granted.  Time spent in prayer is being present with God and allowing the fog to lift.  It is time that allows the business, the frustration, the rush of this world to lift from our souls and for us to see things as they really are.

We learn to see through God’s eyes, not through our fears, doubts, worries, and stress.  The fog lifts.  We can see clearly.

Jesus valued his life of prayer.  We must as well.  We must prioritize.  We must make it important. Because there is no more important meeting we have today than to meet God in prayer. 

 

Elizabeth Glass Turner ~ Do You Need to Move On?

“Move ON!” a little girl voice shouted from the porch.

She’d been watching me weed then went inside. During that time, I’d moved down the flowerbed but doubled back, pulling stray weeds I’d missed the first time in the tangle of morning glory vines. When she came out, she saw me bending at roughly the same spot as when she’d gone inside.

“You need to move ON!” (She’s no shrinking violet.)

Weeding and praying go hand in hand. I tug and clear and get dirty and think and talk to God and process my thoughts and feelings and listen to the birds and untangle morning glories. And God weeds my soul and cultivates my soil and could, like in the cemetery Easter morning, be mistaken for a gardener.

My aim this summer isn’t to weed perfectly, obsessing over one patch of dirt and plants. I pull the big ones, clear the edges, and move on.

But what about when we don’t move on? When we scratch the soil over and over in one place, ignoring the rest of the flowerbed, poring over our troubles, worrying the soil like we can read clumps of dirt like tea leaves?

A while later something caught my eye. When I was young I collected the dried mud cicada shells left behind by the bugs that crawled out of the dirt. I don’t like the siren calls of cicadas and I don’t like the live locusts flying anywhere around me, but watching one flutter and squeeze out of its shell was mesmerizing.

“Move on!” I wanted to say. “You can’t stay in there forever, you know, and now you’re halfway out. Keep going! The world is waiting and you cannot return to the ground you crawled out of.”

It can seem hard to move on, but consider how absurd it would be for the wet, stiff cicada to attempt to fit back in its dried dirt shell.

In what area is it tempting to stay?

In what shell are you comfortable?

What draws you to stay laboring in one spot over and over, turning the soil over and over, but never planting and moving on?

“Move ON!” There are pressing things just around the corner – in my case, burgeoning tomato plants loaded with promising yellow blossoms – and your eyes are settled on one patch of dirt.

There is promise and a new world and all you see is the struggle of escaping the shell.

Move on.

Spirituality the Jesus Way

The Latin American Jesuit theologian Jon Sobrino described spirituality as a profound motivation; he said that it’s about instincts, intuitions, longings and desires—both within nature and in our culture—that move us, inspire us and shape us, inform and fill our decisions and actions. That definition of spirituality—“profound motivation”—connects with Jesus’ words to us to seek the kingdom of God first, and everything else will be added (see Matthew 6:33).

Our spirituality is whatever we desire most. Whatever we strive for, whatever motivates us, drives us, moves us to select one thing over another; whatever primary shaping forces are in our life, that’s our spirituality.

Following in the Jesus way is about recognizing that Jesus calls us to a particular type of spirituality, a way of life that’s shaped by seeking and finding God’s presence in our life, doing whatever is necessary to put God at the very center of our lives, to put ourselves at the very center of God’s will. When we do that, we experience deep, abiding, life-changing, life-marking joy—not because we’ve earned it or achieved it, not because of chance or circumstance, but because it already exists. God’s blessedness is already there, and we experience it when we seek God’s kingdom. Jesus promised that when we seek the kingdom of God and God’s righteousness first, everything else will be added. That adds up to a type of happiness the world can’t give or take away.

The biggest challenge for Christ followers who seek to follow Jesus side by side rather than at a distance is the implicit question of the Beatitudes: Will we yield ourselves totally to Jesus?  

Will we allow him to shape our lives and give us happiness, joy, and blessedness, or will we continue to seek happiness by following the direction of the world?

When we yield ourselves to Jesus, following in the Jesus way—up close, in the thick of things, not at a distance and in the shadows—we experience the deep joy, fulfillment, and satisfaction. We become Kingdom people.  

 

Otis T. McMillan ~ Light, Life, and Love

“Now when Daniel learned that the decree had been published, he went home to his upstairs room where the windows opened toward Jerusalem. Three times a day he got down on his knees and prayed, giving thanks to his God, just as he had done before.” —Daniel 6:10

Daniel’s life shows the power of a heart transformed by faith in God. A transformed heart is a grateful heart. A heart filled with gratitude overflows in praise to the Giver of Life. It perceives the world (and the people in it) differently.

It is strengthened in faith, and grows in confidence that God will continue to show himself strong on our behalf. What has God done in your life? How do you see the world differently because of who God is?

Take a moment to pray with me for a life of gratitude: Transform our hearts, O God. Fill us with praise for who You are and gratitude for what You have done. Strengthen our confidence as we worship You with humility and thankfulness. In Jesus’ name, amen. 

“When Jesus spoke again to the people, he said, ‘I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.’”—John 8:12

Our eyes are drawn to light. Light in all its forms—a pinprick of light that illuminates a dark room, moving light, changing light—draws our attention. Jesus said that he is the light of the world.

Are our eyes as tuned to spiritual light as they are to physical light? Do we strain to catch a glimpse of Jesus, the Light of the world, whose presence stands out like life-giving light in a dark world? Look for Jesus to go before you today, and follow where he leads.

Take a moment to pray with me again, this time to see the light of Christ: Transform our hearts, O God. Fill us with praise for who You are and gratitude for what You have done. Strengthen our confidence as we worship You with humility and thankfulness. In Jesus’ name, amen. 

“We love because he first loved us.” —1 John 4:19

As we come to know whose we are and we become increasingly familiar with God’s character, we cannot help but be overwhelmed at the depth of God’s love for us. His love is a powerful change agent; it permeates our attitudes, thoughts, words, and actions. It transforms our lives, bringing new purpose and meaning.

When we extend his love to others, it transforms them, as well. Are we being so transformed by his love that we find ourselves loving others like Jesus loves us, even if that means loving out of our comfort zone? Who will you love like Jesus today?

Take a moment to pray with me for the love of God to transform your life: Jesus, Your love is transforming our lives, changing us from the inside out. May Your love complete its work within us. Reach into our hearts, revolutionize our thinking, reshape our lives so that we are more like You, living ambassadors of God’s love. Teach us to love like You, we pray in Your name, amen. 

 

Following God Beyond Common Sense

It can be easy to live our lives disconnected from our passion and, as a result, from our God mission. That disconnect is often one of the things that keeps us following Jesus at a distance. But following as Jesus leads requires that we connect—or reconnect—with our passion; that we then discover our God mission, and act upon it. It requires that we be open to a little Pentecost—or a burning bush—in order to receive insight from God as to exactly how we are to follow.

The problem is that our God mission is almost always tremendously bigger than we are.  

That’s exactly what Moses discovered.

As he was tending his father-in-law’s sheep, he experienced a little Pentecost. God captured Moses’ attention in a miraculous way— through an encounter with a burning bush—and gave him an amazing mission: “I am sending you to Pharaoh. You will lead my people, the Israelites, out of Egypt” (Exodus 3:10, NLT).

Moses had a hard time accepting his God mission because he, like us, had limited his destiny to what he believed he could accomplish with his own strength and resources. He was no longer an Egyptian prince; he was now a simple sheepherder. Moses tried to convince God to send someone else: “Who am I to appear before Pharaoh? How can you expect me to lead the Israelites out of Egypt? They won’t believe me! They won’t do what I tell them. I’m just not a good speaker. Lord, please! Send someone else” (Exodus 3:11; 4:1, 10, 13, NLT).

We struggle to follow Jesus closely, in sync with our God mission, because that mission is bigger than we can imagine. We are limited by our detailed lists of past failures, our internal sense of inadequacy, the unhealthy level of our self-esteem. We create a picture in our minds of what we will become, and it’s almost always smaller than what God intends.

Unfortunately, rather than picturing an unbelievable future, we often choose to place a limited picture in our mind’s eye. The picture that I held in my mind when I attended the evangelism conference was limited to the way I was doing ministry at that time. I couldn’t comprehend what God had in store for me because it was bigger than I could imagine and went far beyond common sense. That’s significant. As we seek to follow in the Jesus way, we need to recognize that more often than not, rather than being rooted in common sense, the Jesus way defies common sense.  

How many times have we limited ourselves to the pictures created by common sense? “I could never do that; I’m too old; my children are too young; I don’t have the right degree.” Jesus shakes his head and says, “Didn’t I tell you that you will see God’s glory if you believe?” (John 11:40, NLT)

We follow an awesome God! A God who can do great things with limited resources. This means that our life mission isn’t about what we can imagine about ourselves. It is about what God imagines about us. When we imagine ourselves, our response to the mission God sets before us is often: That’s impossible! I’m not smart enough! I’ve been divorced! I’m in recovery! I’m this…I’m that…I’m not this…I’m not that!

But God says that none of that matters. None of that matters because our life mission isn’t about what we can do for God. Our life mission is what God is going to do through us.  

Remember Moses? “Who am I to appear before Pharaoh?” (Exodus 3:11, NLT)

God says, “It’s not about what you can imagine about yourself. It’s what I imagine about you.” God says, “It’s not about what you can do for me; it’s what I am going to do through you.” That revelation was at the heart of Moses’ burning-bush experience. We follow an awesome God; and when we choose to follow side by side, rather than at a distance, we experience God’s power to take the ordinary and make it extraordinary. That’s what happened to Moses and to the disciples, and that’s what happens to us.

Moses tells God that he can’t speak well, that he gets tongue-tied, that he stutters (Exodus 4:10). What is God’s response? “Who makes mouths? I will be your mouth. I will give the words” (Exodus 4:11, NLT). Similarly Peter, who before Pentecost barely knew what to say or when to say it, is empowered to speak eloquently to the crowds all over Jerusalem (see Acts 2:1-42).

God takes the ordinary and makes it extraordinary. God puts words in our mouths and transforms the ordinary elements of our lives into powerful tools. Moses’ biggest weapon, the source of extraordinary signs and miracles as he argued with Pharaoh to free God’s people, was an ordinary shepherd’s staff. Moses went up against Pharaoh, ruler of the most powerful kingdom on earth at that time, armed with the stick he had used for forty years herding his father-in-law’s sheep.

The reality of following in the Jesus way doesn’t consist of what you can do for God. It consists of recognizing what God can do through you. The question we must ask ourselves is not, “what can I give God?” but “what is God doing? How can I be a part of what God is doing?” 

When we follow Jesus side by side, we don’t wait until we have everything figured out. We don’t wait until our life picture has been filled in with every detail. We act on what we know and trust that God’s picture is infinitely greater than our own. We act on the glimpses we receive of the light of God’s truth, trusting that God is working through us. We follow at a distance when we hear the truth of God and wait rather than walk; but the Jesus way involves action—breaking ranks, risking the radical, attempting the impossible.

Moses’ life mission was about achieving God’s purpose for God’s people. Moses lived in sync with that mission, not by focusing on self-fulfillment or self-actualization, but by allowing God to work through him. Jesus promised that “rivers of living water will brim and spill out of the depths of anyone who believes in [him]” (John 7:37, The Message). We follow in the Jesus way in order to serve: to become a source of refreshment and healing and creativity to everyone around us.

Perspective comes when we refocus on God, who has promised to be with us, to be our mouth, to be our resource, to be our strength. Perspective comes when we refocus to see that following Jesus with integrity makes each of us a witness; and witnesses cannot hide in the shadows. Witnesses tell the truth about what they have seen and experienced.

God has placed a purpose within you, a life mission. Following Jesus is about discovering that life mission. It’s guaranteed to be bigger than you can imagine, but God has surrounded you with all the tools you need to accomplish it. God also desires to work a miracle through you for another person. We may not have it all together; we may have pain or shame. But it’s not how we imagine ourselves, it’s how God imagines us. We walk in the light—now. We don’t wait. We simply take our ordinary lives, add our experience of Jesus in real time, and allow God to create a mighty work through us.

Coming Face to Face with Jesus

Then these righteous ones will reply, “Lord, when did we ever see you hungry and feed you? Or thirsty and give you something to drink?Or a stranger and show you hospitality? Or naked and give you clothing? When did we ever see you sick or in prison and visit you?” And the King will say, “I tell you the truth, when you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were doing it to me!”

Matthew 25:37-40 (NLT)

The movie Motorcycle Diaries is the story of Ernesto (Che) Guevara’s life-shaping travels across South America as a young medical student. Toward the end of the movie, Che and his traveling companion Alberto are working at a leper colony. A river separates the sick lepers from the healthy nuns, doctors and others who provide care. In the evenings Che looks out over the river at the dim lights shining in the huts of the lepers. It is clear that the river is a metaphor for all that he has experienced on his travels – the separation between sick and well, rich and poor, landed and dispossessed, powerful and powerless, accepted and cast out. 

On the last night at the leper colony, they celebrate Che’s birthday with a party on the “healthy” side of the river. Late in the evening Che wanders out to the dock with Alberto and looks across the river. Suddenly he says, “I want to be on that side of river.”

I want to be on that side of river. That sounds like something Jesus would say. Jesus wasn’t about hanging out on the “healthy” side of the river, the side of the “haves.” Jesus was interested in what was happening on the other side, the side where sick people lived, and poor people, suffering people, outcasts and “have nots.”

There will always be times when each of us finds ourselves on that side of river – life is full of challenges, problems and suffering. But if we are honest, we will be forced to admit that most of us are likely not living life on that side of river – at least not continuously.

Following Jesus is difficult; if we are not already on that side of river because of personal circumstances, we are called to follow Jesus there. We are called to solidly stand on the other side of river, side by side with Jesus against injustice and in solidarity with everyone who is oppressed and we do it so that others can taste God’s justice and mercy.

Experiencing real, authentic faith is risky because following Jesus is all about relationships – our relationship with God and our relationships with others on God’s behalf. It’s risky because it requires that we make ourselves vulnerable so that Christ can be seen through us and Christ’s love can be reflected in our lives.

What if we think we’re standing on that side of river, but we’ve actually never left our side?

 

Carolyn Moore ~ Let Your Longings Work for You

Go to the Limits of Your Longing

-Rainer Maria Rilke

God speaks to each of us as he makes us,
then walks with us silently out of the night.

These are the words we dimly hear:

You, sent out beyond your recall,
go to the limits of your longing.
Embody me.

Flare up like a flame
and make big shadows I can move in.

Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror.
Just keep going. No feeling is final.
Don’t let yourself lose me.

Nearby is the country they call life.
You will know it by its seriousness.

Give me your hand.

(Book of Hours, 159, translation by Joanna Macy + Anita Barrows)

I’ve been in a season.

The worst of it is that this season seems typical of people like me — middle-aged, empty-nested, hard-working. It looks like I’m just unfulfilled and cranky.

Nothing could be further from the truth (well, maybe cranky … but certainly not unfulfilled). I love my family, my work, this stage of life. I love Jesus and am motivated to plumb the depths of following him. I love my people, and have no desire to escape them. Mine is not a mid-life crisis, though it does look like a yearning for something more. Or different. Something.

The yearning has frustrated me. I’ve flailed about looking for the cause, blaming it on my own lack of progress in my main area of ministry. That is usually my default setting. If things don’t “feel” right, ministry must be to blame. I seem to live in a chronic state of discontent with what can be but isn’t. Sometimes the discontent motivates me to try harder; most of the time, I allow those frustrations to push me right down into a pit of discouragement.

A friend who lovingly listened to my angst said she suspects I’ve been misdiagnosing my longings. She has heard me sing this song before. Hearing the same tune again, my friend asked a profound question: “What if you let the longing work for you, and not against you?”

She went on to poke around in my spirit and we discovered that yes …my deepest desires are vertical, not horizontal. I do want to know the heart of God. Far more than temporary successes, I hunger for deeper encounters with the Holy Spirit. I long for eternal things. My spirit resonates deeply with Paul’s: “Our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all” (2 Corinthians 4:17). I am grateful to know the Holy Spirit groans with me when I don’t have words to express my own deep yearnings (Romans 8:26).

Yet, the frustrations and unidentified aggravations that mark life have been trained by time and repetition to roll down into some undefined rut of unfulfillment — manifesting as empty complaints, causing me to search for cures in the wrong places. Work harder, my frustrations urge. Or look for an escape hatch. Netflix. Mindless surfing. Words with Friends. Anything to divert me from transcendence.

But what if our longings are not for things we can consume, but for something else entirely — something deeper, more legitimate, like Heaven, or the Kingdom to come or for deeper, more intimate communion with God? What if they are for worship or for the souls of lost people waiting to be found? Surely this would be a better target for my longings. Is it possible it is also the right target? Is it possible that what feels like frustration over the horizontal is actually our whole spirit groaning for the eternal? For transcendence,  because that is how we’re made?

Misdiagnosing causes us to lean out, to allow our lack of spiritual imagination to steal all the good and eternal out of what ought to be holy longings. Misdiagnosis saps us of spiritual productivity. On the wrong trajectory, our groans work against us. No wonder so many middle-aged people buy Harleys. We’ve lost our ability to interpret the wordless yearnings of the Spirit.

How would a fresh diagnosis of your own deep longings change your next choice? How would it alter your prayer life, your work life, your church life, your next conversation with God, with someone in the waiting room with you? Are you leaning out, when you should be leaning in?

Go to the limits of your longing, the poet advises. Flare up like a flame. Don’t let your last emotion get the last word. Transcend. Rise above. Get in touch again with the Deep, with the Holy Spirit. Let your longings take you toward the Kingdom, which is home for you.

Which is what you were made for.

This originally appeared at www.artofholiness.com.