 The Lord isn’t slow to do what he promised, as some people think. Rather, he is patient for your sake...
-2 Peter 3:9 It’s summertime, and millions of people will find their way to a coastline this month. Have you ever walked along the beach or a riverbank and found an old piece of glass that has been submerged for months or years, tossed about in the currents? “Sea glass” is formed over time from fragments of old bottles, glass litter, and even shipwrecks. And people really go crazy collecting this stuff. It’s an interesting phenomenon: collecting pieces of trash and turning them into jewelry or decorations for their beach-themed bathrooms. It’s weird, but I think I’m a fan. When I saw a picture from a friend with a piece of sea glass recently, it struck me as a holy image. Sea glass is a metaphor for the faith experience of so many people. Each piece of sea glass goes on a distinct journey. At one point, it was shiny and crystal clear—but it was also dangerously sharp. Then, because it was broken, and because it tumbled down and reached the bottom of the surf or riverbed, it began to be transformed. Yes, the perfect clarity may have faded away. But so did the razor-sharp edges. And a slightly new shape emerged. The transformed glass is the same core substance it’s always been, but now there’s an inviting smoothness to it. It may not be as clear on the outside anymore, but it’s become far more valuable to people, and more beautiful. And it certainly is not able to cause the same type of harm that it once could. Over time, brokenness leads to beauty. Every pieces tells a story. The journey toward Jesus is often like sea glass. Things can feel crystal clear early on. When we grow up within Christian faith, or even come to Jesus as adults, things often seem clear and easy. Interpreting the Bible seems straightforward and simple. The way God works is predictable. And our personal views and experiences are what every faithful person should hold! This sort of certainty can also come with really sharp edges. We can become closed off to hearing others’ perspectives (or the whisper of God). We can harm others by insisting they are wrong rather than asking good questions. And in our perfect clarity, we can easily become arrogant and judgmental of those who think differently or do not share the same convictions. But eventually, things start to break down. Our crystal-clear faith gets beaten up a bit. Some things we once had clarity on become less obvious (“Prayer doesn’t work exactly like it was promised to me!?!”). Where we once saw only black and white, we now realize there are many shades (“Multiple people I trust disagree on what this passage means! Is one of them evil??”). And life’s circumstances cause us to release control (“I thought that God would reward me for my good behavior, but then tragedy hit my family.”) It’s a painful process, this tumbling. This is also known as being human. But it's also where we finally encounter the grace of Jesus. And if we don't give up, there is immense beauty on the other side. Rigid certainty will give way to humble love. Perfect understanding of God will become less important than relational connection with God, in Jesus. Shiny exteriors are no longer necessary to keep up. And we realize that trusting God is not ultimately about transaction, but about relationship. And those razor-sharp edges? Jesus has a way of sanding down our arrogance and superiority complexes over time. Instead of being dangerous to those around us, our humble faith can become an invitation for others to experience God's goodness. I recently heard a Christian leader suggest that maybe we need to stop writing books titled "Four Easy Steps to Spiritual Growth" and instead make them a bit more honest, like "How to Become More Like Jesus in 75 Challenging Years." Preeeeeeeach. So don’t fear if you’re in the middle of that journey right now—tumbling and chipped. Do your best to trust that Jesus is in the midst of that process with you as you seek truth, and you may find that what you’re becoming will be much more beautiful than before. Jesus, help me embrace the honest journey of transformation with you. Soften my sharp edges and bring renewed beauty from my life into the world. Peace, Keith
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 God sets the lonely in families...
-Psalm 68:6 I had the privilege of spending a few days with my friend Cherish this week when she was in Delaware to lead a conference we hosted at our church. She's a pastor from Texas. We have a lot of fun joking around about the differences between Texas and Delaware culture, as well as the odd similarities (Americans gonna American in every state, amirite?). But she told me about something this week that I had absolutely never heard of: Gluten-Free Camp. I don't know if it's a regional thing or just something I've never encountered. Did you know that there are camps whose entire thematic focus is making sure that gluten never gets past their gates? I admit, my first ignorant thought was, "That's the strangest summer camp I've ever heard of. Is this a serious thing?" In my curiosity I quickly found out that yeah, it totally is. Cherish's daughter has celiac disease. That means that she can't eat gluten or she'll get very sick. And a reality like that for a kid means that you are often on the outside of social moments. No normal cake at a friend's birthday. No ability to join in the pizza party and grab a slice. It's an invisible, constant barrier, that would be hard for anyone. But especially for a teenager. If that's your story, it's really hard to find places where belonging is easy and effortless. If that was your reality (and I know for some of you it is!) can you imagine how freeing it would be to join in a week with friends that is all about keeping that gluten far away? A week where you don't have to think and analyze what's on the table all the time? Can you imagine a community where no one has to quietly guard themselves, just waiting for the moment where they are going to feel like the odd person out because their reality is complicated? It would be a week with no weird side eyes or subtle annoyances because you have unique needs. A week where no one feels like the oddball. A week where nobody is othered, because everyone understands. That's why gluten-free camp is like the Kingdom of God. I have no interest in figuring out if there will be gluten-free pizza at the great banquet that Jesus spoke about. What I am interested in is a community that is so deeply formed by Jesus, that anyone can enter without fear that they will feel like an outsider because their life realities aren't the same as others. I'm interested in a kingdom of God that receives all our insecurities and unique stories, all our fears and hurts and hopes, and says: we are fully prepared to welcome you into relationship. You are safe here, and you are normal here. You don't have to work to belong. You don't have to be careful around everyone or suspicious of anyone else. You can rest. You can be renewed. You can find joy. You can walk forward inspired to join in all of it. I'm interested in a kingdom where people are at rest with God and others. And because the risk is gone, only relationships of wholeness, forgiveness and justice will emerge. This is what I believe Jesus shows us of his kingdom. It's a reality where somehow, all of our unique experiences and limits and joys and quirks find a place. It's a collection where the oddballs of the world (most of us) meet the oddball-ness of God's subversive values, and everyone thrives. It's a place where because you don't have to change yourself in order to be received, you cannot help but walk away changed forever by Jesus. That's the power of love and belonging. Jesus offers these things to us freely, and in them we are made new in Christ, over and over again. I don't know what your gluten is. But it's whatever the thing is that makes it hard to be at ease. It's the thing that makes you feel like you're sometimes the outsider. Maybe it's your complicated family situation. Maybe you're going through the deconstruction of your faith. Maybe you don't know anything about the Bible and everyone else around you assumes things and it makes you feel stupid. Maybe you're single and your church is full of married people. Maybe it's a hidden struggle. Or maybe as you follow Jesus, your faith keeps changing and the spaces that you used to fit into don't really fit anymore. It's ok. Jesus shows us that his kingdom is always a soft place to land, where you don't have to bear such a heavy burden. God has already gone before you, preparing for all your unique needs and sensitivities. Enter fully into God's love. Enter fully into God's family. You can rest here, and you will be changed forever. Jesus, thank you for the grace-filled invitation to come. Peace, Keith |
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