In a world full of possibilities, it’s easy to wonder if a different path might be more successful—or at least a little less painful. But sometimes, growth requires hardship. What if we began to see it not as something to escape, but as a kind of discipline?
What if I stopped needing everything to line up? What if I could let go of the demand to understand the reasons, the timing, the purpose? We spend so much of life trying to piece it together; why this happened, how it connects, what it’s all supposed to mean.
While with Jesus, they’re excited. The disciples believe and they are ready for the Kingdom of God to come. But then Jesus is captured. He’s subjected to a farce of a trial and we find the disciples running for their lives. We find them in hiding. But then a short time later these same men are standing up to the very same Jewish leaders to condemn Jesus to death and are out publicly proclaiming the good news about Jesus.
We live in a fallen world and with that comes hardship. Whether it’s a personal health crisis, or a community-felt crisis like this pandemic and social injustices, suffering will happen. In our social media saturated world, it can be easy to give in to fear and anxiety as our feeds are flooded with information and opinions. When these hardships come, how do you react?
Saying “thank you” is ingrained within us since early childhood. We are taught to express thanks frequently after any act of kindness. In fact, it likely becomes routine for many of us and we don’t honestly give it much thought. I’m not saying that this gratefulness is disingenuous but there is so much more to thankfulness than a simple “thank you”.
The other night, we had a campfire. We watched the flames dance, listened to the wood crack and pop. We watched the wind blow the smoke around. We sat mostly in silence. Nothing needed to be said. In those moments, I experienced a greater sense of peace and contentment than I had in a long while. I just breathed the fresh air. I merely sat there enjoying the moment. My soul drank in the stillness.
In these times of uncertainty and being bombarded from every direction with constantly changing information, it can be easy to get sucked in to the drama and justify being glued to news channels as “staying in the loop.” We experience a deep need to know everything we can to be prepared for this new future.
It is only in our sufferings that we know that God is producing and bringing out the finest qualities from within us. These characteristics are things like our ability to withstand pressure, to endure in spite of being pressed down, it is the ability to have strong integrity of character no matter what.
It was a clear night. I could see the stars. They were magnificent to look at. They were bright even as they shined through the big tree in my backyard. It struck me just how beautiful they were and how long it had been since I had looked up at them. That’s when God said to me, “I just want you to look up my child.”
You see dissonance is when who I am no longer lines up with who I had hoped to be or how I hope others see me. It happens so often and so subtly that most of the time you and I don’t even realize it’s going on. We all know that major dissonance (or compromise) doesn’t crop up overnight. It starts small. So small that we might not recognize it in ourselves or want to acknowledge it. This morning we’re going to open to the Book of James, chapter one.