Sometimes looks like losing, but it’s not.

Admittedly, this is not a sexy sales pitch. And yet for us as Christians, this is our bread and butter. Because it’s the simple m.o. that Jesus built his mission on.

One person’s simple is another person’s complicated.

One person’s clarity is another person’s fog.

One person’s assurance is another person’s shakiness.

One person’s certainty is another person’s doubt.

This is a strange Spring. Certainly the strangest in my lifetime. Outside life is blooming and blossoming; inside, most days feel like the lonely cold of winter.

It’s times like this that we need songs like this.

In Winter I believe You

In Springtime I see You

It’s so good to be with You

My Hope has come

Lord, You make all things new

Your love is my breakthrough

Now I sing hallelujah

My hope has come

Andy Squyers, “Cherry Blossoms”

Who do you long to see? Who do you wish that you could see face to face? Whose conversations are you hungry for? Whose heart do you desire to encourage, and who would in return encourage yours?

The apostle Paul knew the dull ache of missing someone dear:

God, whom I serve in my spirit in preaching the gospel of his Son, is my witness how constantly I remember you in my prayers at all times; and I pray that now at last by God’s will the way may be opened for me to come to you. I long to see you so that I may impart to you some spiritual gift to make you strong—that is, that you and I may be mutually encouraged by each other’s faith.

(Romans 1:11‭-‬12)

Is also one of the most formational worship songs in my life. The stone-cold-classic “I Lift My Eyes Up” by Brian Doerksen. It shaped me for years. It still resonates with me today. Which is fitting, because the Psalms were meant to be sung.

Music is a powerful force. It influences our moods. It makes our bodies move. It stimulates our brains in deep ways—educators know this, which is why, (especially at younger ages, but it ought to be more common at older ages), so much is taught through song.

Case in point: How did you learn the alphabet?

I will listen to what God the Lord says;

he promises peace to his people, his faithful servants—

but let them not turn to folly.

(Psalm 85:8)

What is God saying to you today?

Through the Scriptures. Through creation. Through those that you live with. Through the Wise of years past. Through unexpected circumstances. Through the mundane ordinariness of daily chores.

In the bustle of life. In the chaos of quarantine. In the chatter of children. In the quiet places of your own spirit. In the seemingly random musings of your mind. In the flicker of a candle. In the subtle in and out of your own breath.

In this place? At this time in history? Doing the things you are doing? Surrounded by these people?

Why not any other place? Any other time, doing anything else, surrounded by any other people?

This is, arguably, the root existential question of humanity. The one that all religions, if they’re worth their salt, try to answer. Here’s a really poignant take on this from the Apostle Paul:

We all live on a certain plot of land. We live within a measured acreage; our home is a certain square footage. We live in a particular location that has a size and shape.

Our lives have a certain width and breadth. The reach of our relationships and influence is different for each of us; we all touch a unique set of other lives that no one else touches.

Of my own knowledge of God. Proverbially, I am my own worst enemy. Metaphorically I am my own rock and my own hard place. Spiritually I am my own dead weight. Literally I am just a natural creature trying to seek after a supernatural Creator.

Flannery O’Connor, in her prayer journal, writes a prayer worth weaving into my daily prayers:

Because everything is connected. Everything has an effect, however small or large, on something else.

The thing is, I often have more options than I realize. It’s far too easy to passively go with the flow, to just allow things to happen to me, within me, and through me. But the good news is than I can allow certain triggers to be pulled. I can also leave the safety on for other triggers. The triggers I allow to be pulled will lead me either in the direction of brokenness or in the direction of wholeness.