I live on a military installation and have five immediate neighbors. This past week two moved in and one moved out. Over the course of the summer, I will lose them all. Neighbors moving in and out is pretty commonplace. And if it’s not them moving it’s me. Upheaval, chaos, confusion are par for the course. Good-byes and loneliness set in. And oh so many boxes.

It’s hard sometimes to want to engage again. I know that’s it will only be for a short time, three years at the most. But what do I lose if I don’t. Investing is always costly. I invest my time and emotions and energy. And sometimes there is no return on those investments. But most often, the returns are monumental. Friendships that span years and timezones are always so worth the effort.

Invest, my friend. It is always worth it.

I saw a Marine addressing a circle of friends who obviously weren’t in the military. By his gesticulations, I assume a story was being told. His animated gestures spoke of excitement and enthusiasm and experiences. By the looks on the faces of those around him, they were impressed but also a bit confused. I’ve seen that face before. I tell someone about an experience and it doesn’t connect at all. They try to be polite, but then silence ensues… and a change of topic. There will always be those who don’t understand.

There are things about my life that I wish were different, like that every-female-struggle with reality versus the airbrushed look on the cover of most magazines or the wish for the creativity of Joanna Gaines. There are things I wrestle with about my personhood and identity. There will always be struggles with measuring up when I compare myself with others.

But there are also more deeply rooted things like broken relationships and health struggles. There are regrets and desires and dreams. There will always be longings for more, for better, for wholeness.

Sometimes the messages that the world pushes are like waves crashing over me. I scramble to get out from under one only to be tumbled by the next, unrelenting in their consistency. I wish that I could stop my ears just for a moment and ponder what is true and good. There will always be longings for peace.

I know that those longings can only be fulfilled in one place. Our hearts find rest in only one way. Psalm 46:10 Be still, and know that I am God. Cease striving. Stop scrambling for all the things that this world tells you will fill your heart with contentment. This whole world will never be enough. Physical strength fails. Relationships disappoint. Beauty fades. Pleasures dwindle. But “we shall be satisfied with the goodness of your house, the holiness of your temple!” Psalm 65:4b And so I remember that there will always be hope.

There is nothing on this earth that will satisfy our hearts. I thought I knew this, that this was one of those 1+1 lessons that I had down pat. But I am continuing to learn that in his graciousness, if there is something that you are seeking here to give you your greatest joy, God may see fit to deny you of it, because he has something better in mind for you. As Thomas Boston, a Scottish pastor from the sixteenth century says,

“Tell me, how will you be made fit for heaven? By the warm sunshine of the world’s ease and by getting your way here? No. That would just put your mouth out of taste for the joys of the other world.”

“Where has God emptied your left hand of some earthly comfort? Stretch out your right hand to God in Christ, take hold of Him, and welcome Him.”

I will wait for you…

The apostle Peter is such an encouragement to me. Failing again and again, he was still used by God. Struggling so often, he encouraged others. Wavering in his faith, he strengthened the people of God.

The book of 1 Peter recently has been such a boon to my spirit lately reminding me that I have a living hope because of God’s great mercy (1 Peter 1:3).  I remember that I am precious and valuable because I have been ransomed not with perishable things, but with the precious blood of Christ (1 Peter 1:19). He reminds me to long for the sustenance from the Word (1 Peter 2:1). He points me to Christ himself as an example (1 Peter 4:1). He reminds me to cast all my anxiety on the God who cares for me (1 Peter 5:7). And he encourages me to stand firm in the true grace of God (1 Peter 5:12).

Jesus makes a promise to Peter just before he tells him that he will betray him three times before the night is over. He says, “Satan demanded to have you, that he might sift you like wheat, but I have prayed for you that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned again, strengthen your brothers.” (Luke 22:31-32) Peter was obedient to the command. His words down through the ages written by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit have strengthened many. And we also have the promise that Jesus gave to Peter that night. Because we know that, though we feel like we are being sifted like wheat in the hands of Satan, Jesus “is able to save to the uttermost those who draw near to God through him, since he always lives to make intercession for them.” (Hebrews 7:25) Jesus is praying for us too!

So often I feel useless because of the sin that so easily entangles and trips me up. How can I ever be useful to the Kingdom? But as I look at Peter’s life and his legacy, I realize that it isn’t despite his mess ups that God uses him; it is through and because of them. And so I say, “Take my life and let it be consecrated, Lord, to Thee… Take myself and I will be ever, only, all for Thee.”

We Protestants, no matter the flavor, don’t do confession well. We assume it’s supposed to include the trappings that our Roman Catholic friends add, and we avoid it. We also don’t talk much about what the penalty for sin is, whether that’s sin in general, or our specific sin, my specific sin. Sometimes it’s even easy to think that my sin is no big deal. But I remember 1 John 1:8 – If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us.

I used this Lenten season for a time of confession, recognizing that though it was the Romans that struck the blows, it was for my sin. It was so that God’s wrath against my treachery would be punished that Jesus walked the road to Golgatha with that cross on His back. Though He was sinless, He paid the price for my guilt.

Lord, as I confess my sin, let me recognize the great price that was paid for it. Let me not take it lightly. By the grace that was poured out, Lord, and by the power of your Spirit, may I live rightly. Amen.

Cradle-to-Cross Wreath

Sinning Stones and Blessing Basket

Combat Fitness Center… we would call it a gym. Being on a military installation means that physical fitness and combat readiness are apparent everywhere you look. It’s the real deal. It’s something that is trained for every day. I walk into this place that is filled with young people who make benching look easy and just trot out the mile that I struggle to finish. To say that I am intimidated here is an understatement. I feel out of place and old. But I know that I need to be here. I need to strengthen this body and increase my stamina. Even though no one will send me to war, I still have to live and work and maintain my health. I want to be fit and active in order to be and do all that the Lord calls me to do.

There is another combat fitness center in my life. It’s called the church. I am extremely comfortable there. It’s a place of refuge and building up, a place to be nourished and refreshed. But it is also a place to train for combat. It is easy to forget that we (whether or not we are attached to the military) are in the middle of a war. And the consequences of this war are eternal. We have a very real Enemy who “prowls like a roaring lion seeking someone to devour.” (1 Peter 5:8) who ensnares (2 Timothy 2:26), who oppresses (Acts 10:38), who lies (John 8:44), and schemes (Ephesians 6:11).

But to be honest, I think that the Enemy doesn’t have much work to do with me. Most of the time, I am my own worst enemy. I get distracted. I fall to temptation. I succumb to those “Respectable Sins” that Jerry Bridges wrote about. And I bow to that strong idol of mine, Comfort.

I read Peter’s encouragement, “Beloved, I urge you as sojourners and exiles to abstain from the passions of the flesh, which wage war against your soul” (1 Peter 2:11) and I remember what is at stake. So I pray as Paul did that I may take up the whole armor of God, stand firm, and love our Lord Jesus Christ with love incorruptible. (Ephesians 6:13,24)