[Y]ou are the Messiah, the Son of the Living God. Mt. 16:16
[O]n this rock I will build my church and the gates of hell will not prevail against it. Mt. 16:18
A few years ago, while on vacation, I prayed over some blank notecards. The notecards represented family members. On each card I wrote a word that might speak to their hearts and act as a touch point in their journeys with Jesus. The “word for the year” has become a sort of tradition with words like “Fearless” and “Discover” taking point.
This year, I asked the Lord for a word for myself. The last time I had what I would consider to be a “word” was more than twenty five years ago. It was two words, actually, that settled into my heart. The first word was “remember”. I was much younger then, not yet married. My journey with Jesus was fresh and I didn’t have much to remember. But remember had an object and that object was “Me” – as in the Person represented by the sculpture on the cross at which I was staring. This was a call to remember forward, an exhortation to keep Jesus center in the journey to come.
Much has happened between then and now. Inside the parenthesis, I married the girl of my dreams and together we raised a family. Kelle and I have done our best to train these young warriors in the Lord, to remember Jesus in the little things, in the big things, and in the in-between things.
On most evenings the house is quiet now. Only one of the FabFour remains on premise. He’s pretty low maintenance, except on trash day.
It’s the quietness of the season, I believe, that has piqued me to notice the noise from the corner.
Many of you know of which I speak when I say that each of our souls have a place we might call our center. It’s that place where our inmost thoughts reside, that place science can neither find nor explain. It’s that place where we are most uniquely us as God created us, beyond the flesh and blood. It is here the Spirit whispers Truth to us and it is here that we first met Jesus.
It is also here, in this place, where we can be most distracted. It’s the place where we forget.
This place for me is alternatively occupied by anxiety and contentment. Depending on the day, the moment really, I can find one or the other eager to greet me.
You may relate. Gravity pulls us to hope in our flesh – in our resources and wits and relationships and circumstances. To the extent we trust in these, we are not hoping in Jesus. And to the degree we are not fastening our hope to Jesus, we give ground to the false hope that is this world. Here enters the churning, the agitation, and the sense that something is not quite right.
Call it a creeping concern. Call it discontent.
Or call it a call to action.
Maybe the Spirit is warning us that we are surrendering to a false hope. And maybe, just maybe, He is rousing us to take a stand.
It took some quiet for me to notice the noise, but notice I have. I suspect that I am not the only one reading this who hears noise from the corner of the place where we meet Jesus.
In my next few posts, I’d like to spend some time here, considering the noise from the corner that would distract us from our Savior and Friend. This noise must be silenced, continually and finally. Not just silenced - destroyed. As in, head separated from shoulders type of destroyed.
Sound violent? Maybe. But then my “word” for the year didn’t sound very spiritual to me either, at least not at first. Then I realized there is only one path to victory over the noise. If any of this resonates with you, I want to invite you to join me in my word this year.
Together, let us ATTACK!!! the noise from the corner.