No time to become the next me

And the Lord—who is the Spirit—makes us more and more like him as we are changed into his glorious image. 
- 2 Corinthians 3:18


Years ago in I participated in a small weekly cohort with other pastors, designed to process our own calling, exhaustion, wounds, and hopes. The goal was to create spaces for honesty and healing as we prepared for our next seasons of ministry. It became a very intimate and holy space for us. In one of our weekly conversations about growth with God, I found myself writing this: 

'“I feel like my normal day-to-day work and life require the current ‘me’ so much that there isn't sufficient space to explore the ‘me’ that God is drawing me to become next. 

Sit with that a moment. Do you feel that way sometimes? I still do. 

The discipleship journey is intended to be one of "becoming." Literally, the word in the Bible for disciple itself means "learner/apprentice." We are lifelong learners, different tomorrow than today. 

As scandalous as it sounds, God not only empowers us in that, but also leads by example. One of the most famous theological statements in the Bible, from John the evangelist, is that "the Word became flesh and dwelt among us." God became something new.

So Christian disciples are people who are becoming new—more like Jesus daily (at least, that's the hope). We are constantly changing, all of our lives. 

But like, who has time for that? 

I can't get my to-do list done most days, and I have things on my schedule for the fall already. Life is set more than I want to admit. I certainly believe in the value of living in the present. But there's a problem when we are so absorbed with our current realities that we lose the ability to notice what's within us.... and therefore, what we're being invited to become next. 

This is how we learn to live a life with God that's worth living. I'm realizing more and more how much our society, our pace of life, and our devices are shaping us to be reactive much more than reflective. So we lose room for wonder, room for imagination, and room for God to challenge us slowly. 

It requires real discipline to sit and listen to Jesus long enough to perceive what the next version of you could look like. 

There's a well-worn concept called "the tyranny of the urgent." Whatever is the loudest and the most pressing is what gets our time. Yet these things are rarely actually the most important. So we spend each day dealing with everything that feels urgent while letting our lives pass by without considering what's most important— like the type of people we're becoming, what Jesus is calling to do, who Jesus is calling us to love, and if we're actually living an abundant, free life. 

The lent journey mirrors Jesus' forty days in the wilderness. In those long days Jesus wrestled with temptations about how to use his power and influence (written about vividly in Luke 4). But those forty days must have also had plenty of less dramatic time—where Jesus simply reflected on who he was and who he was becoming. 

One of the great gifts of walking with Jesus is gaining the courage to become the next beautiful version of ourselves, by God’s grace. Lent is a chance for that. 

Maybe those things are deeply internal for you, like the way you deal with anxiety or disappointment, or how you think about yourself. Maybe they are external, like seeking to love your neighbors in new ways or pursue activities that challenge the static assumptions and habits that keep you from growing. Only Jesus knows.  

So I'm going to wrap this up to give myself an extra 30 minutes today for that. No phone, no news, no pressure from Jesus to be perfect, no required outcome. Just an opportunity to listen for the next step in becoming the next version of me in my discipleship journey. 

Maybe you've got a few moments to do something similar. It won't feel urgent. But it's important. There's too much swirling around us all the time these days for us to skim across our souls as if they don't hold the depths of the oceans inside. 
Consider this your invitation to pause and listen for who you're meant to be, today and tomorrow. 

Jesus, still the noise so I can hear your voice. 

Peace,
Keith


*artwork by Joby Baker