Organic Isolation

While I am very happy living where I am, for me a major criticism of life in a large city is how difficult it is to live near most people you love and/or care about. Because everything is so spread out, one is forced into a lifestyle of driving and more driving - to work, to shop, to have fun, and even to be with said loved ones. One cannot survive without a vehicle among all other basic necessities, therefore one must work to survive (though that is arguably more of a universal truth that applies even outside of a large spread-out Midwestern city with a poor excuse for a public transit system). This, among other things, lends itself to feelings of isolation - at least I've found this to be true for myself, but I'm also confident that I'm not alone.

One of my favorite things about being married to my spouse is that we equally value rest. We also share the conviction that God values rest even more than we do and that we are ultimately made for an eternal rest with Him and in Him. Therefore we are slowly beginning to practice honoring the Sabbath - what God intended as a day of absence from the things that wear us down, notably work (not including the life-giving variety, though I've personally found this hard to come by) and this Western lifestyle of useless busyness. We've chosen Saturday for our Sabbath as we feel it most closely lines up with the Biblical Sabbath and it's the one day of the week neither of us have any regularly-scheduled obligations.

Thankfully we were able to sleep in together for about 9 hours this Saturday morning, however we were still very disappointed that we had to begin our Saturday by facing the pre-Snowpocalypse 2014.2 grocery-hoarding mobs of our city - and at an earlier time than we typically prefer to begin "doing stuff" on a Saturday. However this adventure brought us a pleasant surprise as we ran into two friends and a family member among many from whom we normally feel isolated. Perhaps it was the Starbucks caffeine that we enjoyed along the way but this turned into one of the most wonderful experiences we've had in our time living here together. In a way, it felt like we were in a small town where everyone knows everyone else. In a way...we felt at home.

A few truths I'm reminded of as result of this experience:

1) God knows us, knows what it's like to be us, and truly cares for us. He's the only one who knows what we truly need when we need it and more often than not will provide for us when we least expect. I won't try to argue that every seemingly-random occurrence equals divine intervention but I am fully convinced that there is no coincidence that takes place outside of His grasp.

2) We are created to be in community with God and with one another. Regardless of your spiritual beliefs every single one of us desires to be known by others (though there are many who have yet to recognize this in their own lives). Nevertheless, community takes work, and if we're truly honest with ourselves we forsake gathering with others because we just don't want to do the work. Instead we become obsessed with our own respective family units and bent toward the American Dream (a half-truth at best). (Note: I am completely for the institution of the family and believe our world would be a better place if everyone truly valued and prioritized the family. My point is that we are made to interact with a variety of people and this can only happen outside of our own walls.)

3) The aforementioned events took place at our local Trader Joe's and Whole Foods. Shop organic (local, if possible, is best). Aside from avoiding the risk of consuming food products grown/raised in fecal-infested conditions perhaps there are other benefits to doing so.

4) I almost became guilty of my own pet peeve: posting blog-worthy content where it doesn't belong - "the Facebook". Thankfully it crashed and I was given the opportunity to redeem myself. I am thankful that Jesus is full of mercy and grace for a hypocrite such as myself.

The March of Hope

It has been almost 4 months since my last blog post. In that time frame, hope has been a huge theme in my life. If I wasn't hanging on to it for dear life, I was either filled to the brim with it or reaching aimlessly for it. I hope to share that story more with those dearest to me because it is a good story...and it is a good story only on the basis that it is a God story.

Winter by far is my least favorite season. Everything about winter slows me down physically, emotionally, and even spiritually (or rather, I allow it to have that power over me which it could never conjure up on its own - pathetic, I know). Between a family bombshell, an 18-inch blizzard followed by another few inches of snow, still having to go to work in spite of that, and being separated by one from whom I least want to be separated from, this winter has for me been the most challenging.

The other day, however, I was driving home from work like I do most days. The day was March 1, to be exact. Winter weather was still very much upon KC with cold winds and patches of snow left on the ground in some spots. The sun was shining for the first time in a few days, which was helpful, but the sun shows its face often enough - even in the dead of winter. For some reason I was filled with hope, but it was more than the sun shining. It was more than the knowledge of a new day (which should bring us feelings of hope already).

Then it hit me: Yesterday was February. Today is March. You may think I'm nuts. If you look back through several Farmer's Almanacs you'll see that you certainly have that right. In the context of a calendar year, though, just the knowledge of the month passing from February to March gives me that assurance that winter will pass and we will at last bask in spring, summer, and autumn. It hasn't happened yet, but it will; and though it hasn't happened yet, I was given that sign as an assurance of hope beyond a mere wish for winter to pass away. Our firm decision is to work from this focused center: One man died for everyone. That puts everyone in the same boat. He included everyone in his death so that everyone could also be included in his life, a resurrection life, a far better life than people ever lived on their own. Because of this decision we don't evaluate people by what they have or how they look. We looked at the Messiah that way once and got it all wrong, as you know. We certainly don't look at him that way anymore. Now we look inside, and what we see is that anyone united with the Messiah gets a fresh start, is created new. The old life is gone; a new life burgeons! Look at it! All this comes from the God who settled the relationship between us and him, and then called us to settle our relationships with each other. God put the world square with himself through the Messiah, giving the world a fresh start by offering forgiveness of sins. (2 Corinthians 5:14-19; the Message version)

Likewise, as we wait for the pain of this life to pass away, in the context of eternity, we can have an even greater assurance that we will move beyond this temporary abode into our permanent home in God himself. To find that assurance, we look to Jesus Christ: fully God, but fully man, crucified and risen! Victory has yet to be carried out, but as we look to the cross we can't help but be certain that death has been defeated. "My sin, not in part, but the whole, was nailed to the cross and I bear it no more!" This is the Gospel. Why don't I allow myself to look to the cross in the face of the greatest despair or even the silliest things such as the bleak mid-winter?

There you have it, folks. My hope is in Christ alone. Even as I stumble to hold onto Jesus, I sincerely desire for my words tonight to steer you toward the cross.