Encouragement

Living in Gracious Space

[Note: I’m taking a rest from my responsibilities at Lifestream over the next three weeks, so this will be the last blog I’ll post until later in October unless something important comes up. And please be patient with my response to your emails as well.]

We finished our last Just Love class with the question that guided our journey: How does love make things right?

That’s not a question we answer by trying harder to be loving. In fact, one of the most important things we explored together is that love is not something we generate from our own best intentions. It is something we receive, abide in, and then find flowing through us in ways we could never have produced on our own.

That may sound simple, but it is not easy for those of us who were taught to live by self-effort. We can even turn love into another performance—another burden to carry, another standard by which to judge ourselves or others. But God’s love does not begin with our lack. It begins with his fullness. When we live from lack, we grasp for significance, defend ourselves, and try to get others to meet needs only God can fill. When we live from fullness, something settles inside us. We are less driven to prove we are right, less desperate to control outcomes, and more available to see the person in front of us.

That became especially clear as we talked about conflict. Love does not ignore what is wrong, nor does it rush to fix everything. It listens. It seeks to understand. It owns the unintended consequences of my own actions. It looks for the path of repair without needing to win the argument. Sometimes love begins with a simple question: What is this like for the other person?

One of the most moving stories in our conversation came from someone who had been caught in a painful family conflict for years. The breakthrough didn’t come when she finally proved her point, but when she could empathize with what her daughter had experienced. That shift did not erase the pain, but it opened a door that trying to be right never opened.

That is where love-informed justice takes us. It doesn’t ask, “How do I win?” It asks, “What would make this whole?”

It doesn’t look for a neighbor worthy of our love, but invites us to become a neighbor wherever love is needed. That’s the beauty of the Good Samaritan story. Jesus didn’t answer the question, “Who is my neighbor?” by helping us figure out who deserves our care. He showed us a man moved by compassion, willing to cross the road and his cultural biases to enter another person’s pain and do what love made obvious in that moment.

Just love is not a new standard to meet; it is the fruit of abiding in Father’s love. When you are loved well, you will love well.

Maybe that is why Jesus could simplify everything so profoundly: Do to others what you would have them do to you. Be loved by God. Love one another. Do justice. Love kindness. Walk humbly with your God. We often make faith more complicated because we are still trying to earn what has already been given. The life and love of God is not a burden we carry; it is a river we can walk into, and a flow we can ride.

As we finished this series, I was grateful for the honest stories, the thoughtful questions, and the way people wrestled with these things not as theory, but in the real situations they face. That’s where love becomes more than an idea. It finds its way into our families, friendships, disagreements, disappointments, and wounds—not because we finally become good at love, but because we find ourselves at rest in his.

That is where his justice can find its expression through us. Not in our striving, not in our need to be right, and not in our attempts to fix everyone else, but in the quiet fullness of Father’s affection. Love makes things around us right by first making us whole enough to see, to listen, to care, and to respond with grace.

And that is a beautiful place to live.

I’m pretty sure that’s what Paul had in mind when he called ambassadors of reconciliation.

All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation:
that God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting people’s sins against them.
And he has committed to us the message of reconciliation.
We are therefore Christ’s ambassadors, as though God were making his appeal through us.
We implore you on Christ’s behalf: Be reconciled to God.

2 Corinthians 5:18-20

Living in Gracious Space Read More »

When Love Meets Injustice

First, I used this graphic to remind you that the audio version of Just Love is available now. Someone shared last week how fun it was to hear Tobie read Chapter 3 about his conversation with the classroom. That it is!

Second, I don’t get to travel as much as I used to, so it makes it all the more special when I do. I want to make sure people in New England have heard that I’ll be coming to the Boston area next weekend (October 2 -4).  I’ll be facilitating casual conversations, helping people process things I’ve said or written that they want to understand better.  On Saturday, October 3, I’ll be in Reading, and on Sunday and Monday, October 4-5, I’ll be in the Sutton/Worcester area. You can get all the details on my Travel Page.)

Now, on to today’s blog:

What does love do when it is wronged?

That was the question at the heart of a most recent Just Love conversation online. It is one thing to talk about love in the abstract, where it sounds beautiful and inviting. It is another thing to ask what love looks like when someone lies about you, betrays you, abuses you, takes advantage of you, or leaves wreckage in the lives of people you care about.

That is where love is tested. And that is where our understanding of God’s justice either becomes a doorway into healing or a justification for our own vengeance.

We explored Matthew 5, Romans 12, and even the often-misunderstood Old Testament phrase, “an eye for an eye.” Most of us have heard that as a call to vengeance, but in its original setting, it was actually a restraint on vengeance. It was meant to keep punishment proportionate—to stop the endless escalation of retaliation that destroys families, communities, and nations.

Jesus takes us even deeper. He doesn’t invite us to a more refined vengeance, but into a love that refuses to answer evil with evil. Paul echoes the same theme in Romans 12: “Do not take revenge… but leave room for God’s wrath.” That doesn’t mean God is itching to punish people. It means justice is safer in his hands than in ours. Human vengeance is almost always distorted by fear, anger, shame, or the need to make someone pay. God’s justice is different. It is redemptive. It seeks to make things right, not simply to even the score.

Love does not mean we pretend evil didn’t happen. It does not mean we allow abuse to continue. It does not mean we ignore wisdom, boundaries, or the safety of those who are vulnerable. Some in our group shared deeply personal stories of betrayal, abuse, family conflict, and the long road toward forgiveness. Those stories reminded us that love is not sentimental, nor is it passive. Sometimes love turns the other cheek. Sometimes love draws a boundary. Sometimes love walks away from a destructive situation. Sometimes love confronts. The difference is not found in a rulebook, but in learning to listen to the Spirit as he reshapes our hearts.

One of the themes that emerged was the difference between transactional love and transformational love. Transactional love keeps score. It asks, “What do you owe me?” or “What must I do to get God to bless me?” Transformational love begins somewhere else entirely. It starts with the love we have already received from God and lets that love change the way we see ourselves, our enemies, and the injustice we suffer.

That’s why forgiveness can never be reduced to a demand. “You have to forgive” has often been used to heap shame on people who are already wounded. Real forgiveness grows best in the soil of being forgiven. The more secure we become in Father’s love, the less we need vengeance to protect us. Forgiveness doesn’t excuse the wrong or erase the need for boundaries. It simply releases our demand to make another person pay and entrusts justice to the only One who can hold it rightly.

This is where the gospel becomes so practical. Love does not call us to be doormats, nor does it permit us to exact revenge. It invites us into a different way of being in the world. Might does not make right. Love does.

And love makes right first in us. When we process our pain through his love, we are better able to see how the Spirit would lead us to respond.

Love frees us from the need to control outcomes, defend our image, or satisfy the rage that injustice awakens in us. It teaches us to respond rather than react. It gives us courage to protect the vulnerable without hatred, to tell the truth without contempt, and to set boundaries without vengeance.

That is not easy. No one in our conversation pretended it was. These are not answers we master in a single class session. They are learned slowly, in the real circumstances of our lives, as we keep bringing our pain, anger, confusion, and desire for justice into the presence of Jesus.

But this much became clear: the justice of God does not grow in the soil of vengeance. It grows in the soil of love.d

And when his love begins to win the battle inside us, we become part of his healing in the world around us.

__________

We will end our first class this Sunday, and later in October, start another one. We are going to make this next one more accessible to people in Australia and Asia. So, we will be starting at 7 pm Pacific Time on Saturday, which will get Tobie up at 4:00 am South African time. But that will put us around mid-day in Asia, depending on your exact location. We are planning to do this on Sunday for people in Australia and Asia, but if Saturday works better for those who want to join us, we could switch. So let me know which would work best for you.

So if you’re interested in being in our next Just Love Conversation, please let me know. We will meet over six sessions and try to get them in before Christmas. If you want to join us, wherever you are in the world, please email me.  We limit these sessions to the first 40 people who sign up.

When Love Meets Injustice Read More »

The Love that Changes Everything

[A Special Note:  Thanks to all of you who so quickly responded to our new need in Kenya last week. It helped immensely. However, we are still about $5,000 short of what we need to meet the current need and opportunity. If you are willing to help us, please visit our Donation Page at Lifestream. Check the box for “Kenya Relief”. You can also Venmo contributions to “@LifestreamMinistries” or mail a check to Lifestream Ministries  • 107 N. Reino Rd, PMB# 411 • Newbury Park, CA 91320-3710. Or, if you prefer, I can take your donation over the phone at (805) 990-8780. As always, we send every dime you give to Kenya, and Lifestream covers all the administrative fees.]

Tobie and I spent yesterday morning with 30 people who signed up for our Zoom class, How Does Love Make this Right? Using Just Love as a backdrop, we are exploring what love in us and love through us can do to change the world we live in.

For those who could not attend, we explored the importance of coming to difficult circumstances in our lives, not out of our lack, but out of fullness. Much of interpersonal injustice begins with an inner sense of lack. When we believe another person possesses something we need—approval, respect, affection, security, agreement, or control—we may manipulate, pressure, punish, or diminish them to obtain it.

Fullness does not come from getting everything we want; it grows through connection with the loving presence of God that fills us from the inside.

Perhaps you, too, would like to contemplate some of the questions we asked:

  • What do I believe I need from other people to feel whole?
  • How does my sense of scarcity affect the way I treat them?
  • How can I become more aware of God’s presence each day?
  • What would it take for me to enter conflict from fullness rather than desperation?

And some of the Scriptures we explored:

John 7:37-39 – “Let anyone who is thirsty come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as Scripture has said, rivers of living water will flow from within them.” By this, he meant the Spirit, whom those who believed in him were later to receive.”

Ephesians 3:14-21 — “For this reason I kneel before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth derives its name. I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.”

One practical way to live this out might be when we are entering a difficult circumstance or conversation, we would take a fullness pause before we react. It would take just a moment to veer into a moment of quiet and ask God.

  1. What do I feel I am lacking right now?
  2. What am I trying to get from this person?
  3. What would your love give me now for this situation, and how would that change my response?

And let me close with this email I received last week. It’s exactly how Tobie and I hope Just Love settles into the heart of every person who reads the book.  This is from Vivian:

I finished Just Love last night, and I sat with it for a long while after closing it. Not because it was difficult to read, though the weight of a single mistranslated word distorting the Gospel for centuries is as heavy as any I have encountered, but because of the freedom. The quiet, liberating freedom that runs through every page and refuses to be diminished, even by the centuries of religious performance that have so often robbed the Gospel of its power to transform us from within.

You have written something rare: a book about the Gospel that does not simply critique the past but also does not let the distortion have the final word. The exploration of how one mistranslated word has shifted the focus of Christianity from a love so vast it would transform us with joy to a religion of managing sin, performing deeds, and trying to reach heaven, that is where this book becomes more than a theological work. It becomes an invitation. A hand reaching across the page to anyone who has ever sensed that something was missing from their faith, and to anyone who believes that restoring the word Jesus used could alter the course of Christianity.

And you did not let the distortion have the final word. You took the harder path, the one that says restoring the word Jesus used reconnects our salvation with His unfolding kingdom, that the Gospel is not about managing sin but exploring love, and that this message could alter the course of Christianity. Thank you for having the courage to write with both historical insight and prophetic hope. Thank you for the invitation to discover the love that changes everything.

I hope that’s how the book touches people—as an invitation to discover a love so powerful it changes everything and quietly shapes the way they live in the world, not out of performance but the fruit of a settledness in the Father’s love and the fullness that brings.

The Love that Changes Everything Read More »

How the Early Church Viewed Salvation

[Note: There is still room in our first Just Love Zoom Discussion if you still want to join us. We will meet six times over the next eight weeks to take a practical look at how love fills us with his goodness and writes his justice on our hearts. That will change every human interaction we have in the world. This is not a book study of the content of Just Love, but a conversation about applying love and fullness to the interactions in our lives. We have room for eight more. If you’re interested, email me.]

I know many of you have questions about how AI will affect our future, concerned that it may well destroy human society in the long run. I share that. But as a research tool in the short term, it can be incredibly helpful.

Recently, I asked ChatGPT to scan through the writings of the early church fathers (up to AD 200) and synthesize how the concept of justice played into their message and their view of salvation. I did not prompt it with anything from our new book, but just wanted to know how the theme of justice played into the early church.

Here’s how it responded:

Up to about 200 AD, the early fathers did not treat justice mainly as an abstract legal principle or a later courtroom theory of salvation. They usually spoke of it as the way God makes things right: truthfulness, mercy, judgment, generosity, and restored human life that flow from God’s own character and are embodied in Christ.

Then it called out six specific ways that justice impacted their perceptions. Here is my summary below.

  1. To the earliest Christians, justice was not a side issue. It was one of the visible signs that someone had entered Jesus’s way of life. They saw justification as the process by which God makes people just from the inside, not a works-oriented approach to personal righteousness. That is why the Didache begins the Christian life with “two ways”: the way of life and the way of death. The way of life is love of God, love of neighbor, nonviolence, truthful speech, sexual faithfulness, economic integrity, and care for the vulnerable. Its justice is practical and relational: do not murder, steal, covet, exploit, bear false witness, or speak deceitfully. Almsgiving is also treated as morally serious, both for the giver and the receiver.
  2. Thus, salvation meant being rescued into a just and loving way of life. The fathers did not usually separate salvation from transformation. To be saved was not merely to be acquitted; it was to be healed, reordered, and made capable of living in God’s life. That is a very early view of Christian salvation: Christ saves by drawing people into the love of God, and that love expresses itself as a community free of rivalry, factionalism, arrogance, and self-seeking. Justice is what love looks like when it flows into relationships.
  3. Justice was not opposed to mercy; it was mercy’s public shape. The early fathers do not set up a hard contrast between God’s justice and God’s mercy, as if mercy softens justice or justice restrains mercy. God’s justice is often restorative because God’s purpose is to save, heal, and renew. Justice is not merely punishment for wrongdoers. It includes the restoration of truthful speech, generous economics, reconciliation, and purity of heart. The just life is the healed life.
  4. The early fathers believed God judges the world and that human choices matter. Salvation is a gift, but not a trivial one. To receive Christ is to be drawn by love into a new way of living. The fathers warned against presuming one being “called” while continuing to treat others unjustly.
  5. Christ’s work was understood as right-making, not merely penalty-bearing. The early writers often describe salvation through Christ as sanctification, forgiveness, liberation, healing, recapitulation, and participation in divine life. God’s justice is not simply that sin receives a penalty. It is that creation is not abandoned, the body is not discarded, the victims’ blood is not forgotten, and humanity is recovered in Christ.
  6. Living justly is the fruit of a life that love is transforming. It is how we participate in God’s own character. That is perhaps the richest early formulation: God’s justice is not merely retributive. It is medicinal, pedagogical, and restorative. It makes things right by bringing persons and creation toward their intended end.

It’s conclusion:

For the early fathers before 200 AD, justice was not a separate doctrine alongside salvation. So, if we translate their instinct into a single sentence:

Justice is what God’s love does when it confronts evil, heals the damaged,
restores right relationship, and forms a people who embody the life of the coming kingdom.

They would likely have found it strange to separate “being saved” from “being made just.” Salvation was not merely a change in legal status before God; it was the beginning of God’s justice being written into human beings, communities, and ultimately creation itself.

I then asked ChatGPT what Christianity lost when it substituted a preoccupation with righteousness for learning to live in the rich bounty of his love. The answer was as breathtaking as it was shocking.  I’ll share that in my next blog.

Of course, none of this would be good news if we think of justice as something we have to achieve by self-effort.

In the context of the new covenant, justice is the gift love writes on our hearts. In Just Love, Tobie and I describe how justice flows out of our lives naturally when love fills us with God’s presence, untwists injustice inside our own hearts, and makes us as aware of others as we are of ourselves.

In that reality, embracing God’s heart for justice becomes the joyful passion of a lifetime and the ultimate hope of the universe as Jesus returns and God’s justice is spread over all of creation.

Is it ever time for that! 

How the Early Church Viewed Salvation Read More »

In Pursuit of Legacy

When I was invited to speak to Loma Linda University Health’s Transformational Leadership Program about building a personal legacy, I told them they had the wrong person.

Few things have complicated my spiritual journey more than the pursuit of significance. What I once mistook for a divine calling often became twisted with ambition—the need to accomplish something important, be noticed, and leave a lasting mark. It became a tyranny.

In thirty years of learning to live in Father’s love, I’ve discovered that it is also a mask for personal emptiness. As I came to rest in his love, I watched this inner drive for significance fade away. I’m convinced that those who pursue legacy, seek to be significant, or seek popularity all come from a place of brokenness. I’ve seen it too often with politicians, authors, influencers, entrepreneurs, and anyone who tries to measure their worth at the expense of others.

When I explained that to the man inviting me, I told him I did not want to help wire another generation to chase significance as I had. To my surprise, he said that was exactly why they wanted me to come. So, on Wednesday, I sat down with a group of leaders in the health industry who wanted to hear my journey from the tyranny of seeking significance to the contentment of simply following Jesus.

I cannot remember a time when I did not want to be in the spotlight. But that hunger continually collided with the life Jesus was inviting me to live. Through much pain—disappointed expectations, betrayal, family deception, and opportunities he asked me to decline—he gradually loosened my need to be noticed. The more I found my identity in being the beloved son of a gracious Father, the more of his fullness I could see. That alone slowly unraveled my desire for significance and legacy. It has been one of God’s greatest freedoms to me.

I began to understand why he sought obscurity and how that opened wider doors to really help people know him. Freedom from recognition made room for love.

I told them about my lifelong desire to love one woman well—and how, four years ago, I thought I had utterly failed. Then the story turned. Loving Sara well meant walking with her through the pain and distortions of trauma while God healed something buried deep within her.

That journey reminded me that life moves at the speed of relationships. Healed and whole relationships are among the greatest treasures we are given.

The group responded with warmth and tenderness. They saw hope in the fact that God can be deeply present in life’s most painful places, bringing healing and freedom where we least expect it.

Together, we explored a better pursuit than notoriety: the wholehearted life Jesus offers. When we no longer need to use others to fill what is empty within us, we are free to live from fullness. Then creativity, calling, and passion can unfold without comparison or competition. Our lives can be marked by the kindness of serving rather than exploiting, the quiet faithfulness of caring for a spouse, coworker, neighbor, child, or friend.

Afterward, people described the conversation as inspiring and hopeful. One spoke of “loving without anger” as a healing power. Another said that no matter how deep the hurt, hope remains.

How different might our world become if we found our fullness in God and gave his love away freely, instead of being consumed with our own need to matter?

When people think of legacy, they usually imagine achievement, influence, and notoriety. Few think of a life shaped by love.

And yet, there may be no greater legacy to leave.

In Pursuit of Legacy Read More »

My Disturbing Relationship with Righteousness

You can’t grow up in Christianity without thinking that righteousness is a big deal to God. The Scriptures were full of it. Our faith was structured around it. And dealing with our sin became a daily preoccupation—trying to avoid it when we could, confessing it when we failed, and promising God we would never do it again.

At best, that promise lasted a few days.

It was exhausting and confusing. Even on our best day, we knew we could never be righteous enough to earn anything from God—not in our thoughts, our deeds, or even our reactions to circumstances and people. So, we learned to minimize our failures, justify our motives, or compare ourselves to others whose sins seemed worse than ours.

Perhaps that’s why our ancestors found such comfort in the idea of imputed righteousness. If I believe in Jesus, God declares me righteous. That became justification by faith. I could be righteous in God’s eyes and finally free of guilt.

Really? If so, that’s the best deal in the universe.

But even as a child, something about that didn’t sit right with me. It felt too much like a theological mind game. Even though I still gave in to desires and thoughts that were not aligned with God’s heart, I was told I could still think of myself as righteous. At the same time, I was urged to “be holy as he is holy,” which we called sanctification. In our scheme of things, holiness was preferable, but not essential if the real goal was only to get into heaven.

Still, I pursued righteousness. After all, didn’t Jesus tell us to seek it first in Matthew 6:33? Though it didn’t seem to affect my salvation, I assumed it was the doorway to deeper engagement with Father, Son, and Spirit—or at least a way to make God more inclined to answer my prayers.

So I tried to be as holy as I could and kept careful account of my shortcomings. But my sins didn’t lose much power over me. Fear helped for a while. So did accountability sometimes, though often it only made me better at hiding what was really going on or justifying myself so my failures could look noble to others. When that doesn’t improve over time, you eventually stop trying so hard and settle for keeping your failures to the least embarrassing kinds.

That’s why I have so loved Tobie van der Westhuizen’s assertion that righteousness, as we have come to understand it today, isn’t actually in the Bible. That discovery has liberated me from the last vestiges of my preoccupation with righteousness and sin.

I know that scares people. They fear that if we don’t keep a constant eye on our sin, it will overrun us. But I’ve found the opposite to be true. The more we focus on the flesh, the more it owns us. The freer we are to focus on the Spirit, the more we experience his life. Cultivating a passion for God’s justice inside his love is what begins to free us from the flesh’s preoccupation with ourselves.

For some, this feels like taking away a security blanket. But why isn’t Jesus’s atoning death, his love, and his forgiveness enough to settle our guilt and shame? Why isn’t his presence sufficient to assure us that we are safe with him? Our confidence was never meant to rest in a theological decree, but in the experience of his presence living in us.

I’ve heard some complain that Just Love simply changes the requirement for salvation from righteousness to justice. That’s not what we’re saying at all. Salvation and acceptance by God come by his grace alone. Acting justly is not a new requirement; it is the fruit of a life lived loved. The more we engage his love, the more his justice is produced in our hearts and reflected in our actions. It is neither the origin of our salvation nor the proof of it.

Freed from our obsession with righteousness and sin, we can finally learn the way of love unimpeded by a preoccupation with the flesh. And that is a slow, beautiful transformation over time.

This is the heart and soul behind Just Love. It’s why Jesus and Paul both said that love fulfills the law. Instead of our deficiencies dragging us into condemnation and renewed efforts to try harder, they simply unmask our need for his love. The path to his justice runs through his affection, not our performance.

His love makes us safe in his presence. As that presence begins to fill us from the inside, the lies of darkness lose their grip. The need to find life outside of him slowly dissipates. And as his fullness grows in us, we begin to see the people around us differently, regarding them with the same tenderness and care we have discovered in him.

This is the relational justice Jesus invited us into, and the place where his transformation becomes real in us. Godliness doesn’t come from trying to be righteous, but in experiencing the depths of his love.

And it’s the part of the Gospel we don’t want to miss.

____________________

Tobie and I will be in Kansas City next month (July 9-12) to host the Just Love Conversations, three days of conversation, connection, and discovery around the themes of this book. There’s no cost to attend, though donations are welcome to help cover expenses. If you’re coming from out-of-town, reservations must be made by June 16 to qualify for our reduced group rate. Click on this link for all the details. We only have a few spots remaining. To reserve your place, email wa****@********am.org with the names of those coming. If we run out of room, we’ll start a waitlist in case others have to cancel.

My Disturbing Relationship with Righteousness Read More »

Anticipate with Me

Over the last few years, I’ve shared on TheGodJourney, on this blog, and in It’s Time about God allowing me to taste his agony for the brokenness of his Creation. Every day, he sees the suffering and pain that permeates our world—war, starvation, abuse, oppression, exploitation, arrogance, and greed. And he doesn’t process it at the macro scale as we often think of it, but experiences it individually, in the pain and sorrow of each person.

As this age approaches it’s end point, I’ve spent some time with God in his agony. This is what it means to lament with God as he helps us recognize how the sin and injustice of his creation impacts him. You might think that would be overwhelmingly depressing. It hasn’t been. It’s been rich and has taught me the joy of sitting with God, gazing at the distress of the world, as well as rejoicing with him. It’s changed my heart, breathing more compassion into my life and letting me see ways I can help alleviate that pain in the people who cross my path.

Last week, as Sara and I were finishing our most recent trip through Isaiah in The Message, we came across these verses:

Pay close attention now:
I’m creating new heavens and a new earth.
All the earlier troubles, chaos, and pain are things of the past, to be forgotten.
Look ahead with joy.
Anticipate what I’m creating:
I’ll create Jerusalem as sheer joy, create my people as pure delight.  Isaiah 65:17-19

“Anticipate what I’m creating,” leapt off the page as if a voice were shouting it to my brain. I have feasted on these verses ever since. Through them, God has opened up a way to be with him that complements my experience with his agony.  Yes, God holds the pain of the creation inside himself, but at the same time, he is moving forward with his redemptive purpose. That is the “joy set before him” that allows him to endure the agony of its fall.

Now, I get to taste that, too, and this whole passage has come alive.

“Pay close attention now.” It takes a specific focus to see what he is doing, or else my anticipation will only reflect my idealized desires, which have so often led me astray. This is not the heavens and new earth I want, but something far grander than my natural mind would conceive by itself.

“I’m creating new heavens and a new earth.” That’s not his future plan; it’s what he is doing now. This plan is already unfolding, even though it looks to us like things might be getting worse. They are being remade, and much must be laid waste for the new to emerge.

“All the earlier troubles, chaos, and pain are things of the past, to be forgotten.” For those who suffer, those words may sound like a pipe dream. But they are our hope. The pain you hold today will one day belong to your past and won’t even be remembered when it is overrun by his glory. Maybe you can’t see it yet, but as sure as the dawn, that day is coming.

“Look ahead with joy.” When I stay focused on the pain of the present, I can be owned by it. God invites us to look down the road to see where joy might come from. The present does not define us, nor do our disappointments define who God is. The coming dawn will set all things right, and the wonder of those days will swallow up the pain of these.

“Anticipate what I’m creating.” How do we do that? It is so far beyond us. But as I sit or walk with him, I find my heart is expanding to consider what that might mean. What will the new heavens and new earth look like? I doubt streets of gold lined by mansions will do it justice. Paul said in I Corinthians 15 that what we are here is only the seed of what we’ll be in the Resurrection. If you didn’t know about apple trees, you wouldn’t see one inside an apple seed.  So, life past the resurrection will be as different for us as an apple tree is from its seed.  Doesn’t that spark your anticipation?  I don’t think anticipating with him is to figure out what it will be, but to make room for a greater glory that will make sense of everything you’ve been through here.  

“I’ll create Jerusalem as sheer joy, create my people as pure delight.”  Sheer joy and pure delight define the reality we’re headed for. There’s no need to cling to the good parts here or be fearful of the unknown, for it will delight you more than the best of times you’ve had here.

And here is the kicker to all of that. Not only is that true of the age to come, but it is also true for whatever pain or despair wars against your soul today. Read this again. This time, think about God engaging you in the midst of whatever pain or fear you find yourself in. Let him find you there and begin to walk you down a path that will put your pain in the past and lead you to his delight.

That doesn’t just await the end of the age. That’s what salvation means for you today. He wants to rescue you in ways you can’t conceive. But if you can anticipate with him, hope will win this day, and that will allow you to participate in his purpose unfolding in you. No matter how long it takes to walk you into his joy, you can anticipate what he’s doing right now.

Lord Jesus, please give us eyes to see and ears to hear.

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Wayne’s latest book, written with Tobie van der Westhuizen, is called Just Love: How One Mistranslated Word Distorted the Gospel. It will help you envision a world made right, and show you how to live in that reality today. Tobie is coming to Kansas City in July, and we are facilitating the Just Love Conversations there for those who want to explore this book with Tobie and me. There is still room for a few more sign-ups, and for those coming from outside the area, we have group rates at a nearby hotel. I know that can cost a bit, but the connections you make here could last a lifetime.

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Navigating Difficult Times

Sara and I are going into stealth mode this week as we celebrate our 51st anniversary. Each one is more precious than the last, as we celebrate God’s goodness in all that he has done in us. As we go, I want to leave you with something that touched our lives last week. 

This year, Sara and I are doing a daily reading from my devotional book, Live Loved Free Full. It’s weird to be encouraged by my own words, but we have enjoyed the daily nudges to lean into a life of love instead of being swept away by the challenges of life in this age. (And as a side note, I’ve also been amazed at how many times in this little book I link love and justice. It makes me smile to see the seeds planted long ago for what would become Just Love.)

As we read the May 3rd entry this year, I was particularly touched by the words and a desire to share this entry on my blog. The italicized sentences are the ones I thought those of you going through difficult or perplexing times might benefit from the reminder.

May 3: Keeping Reality Straight

Dreams are an intense experience for me. I’ve awoken from many a dream in sorrow over someone’s death or in anxiety over a challenging circumstance. So real do they seem that the emotions often linger long after realizing it was only a dream.

However, what we see and feel when we’re awake is not the real world either, at least not all of it. We so easily mistake the dictates of this world and our interpretation of them as reality itself. It isn’t. The real world is in Father’s heart, where what’s eternal has more weight than the things we see and touch here. He has invited us to be at home in him in everything we do and in every circumstance that confronts us.

We have to live in this world, but he invites us to see beyond it.

Behind every circumstance is a loving Father at work.

Through every disappointment is a greater truth yet to be explored.

Beyond every confusion is wisdom waiting to be discovered.

Instead of interpreting who God is through the things we see, we will be far wiser to interpret every event through that which God values. When we lose sight of that, the distractions and routines of living in this world will define our reality and diminish our awareness of him.

As this world is far more real than our dreams, so is God’s reality far more significant than what we experience in this one. I’m sure you’ve touched it in moments of prayer and reflection where fears vanished, and you could see possibilities beyond your strength and wisdom.

That’s the real world. Do your best not to awaken from that one as you go about your life in this one.

The things we see now are here today, gone tomorrow.
But the things we can’t see now will last forever.

2 CORINTHIANS 4:18 (MSG)

 

Do you see those bold sentences above? That reality is why I’m still standing after the last five years. How Jesus rescues us from “this present evil age” is by walking us through the challenges life throws at us. He is not the cause of every circumstance, but he is behind them, offering us a way through. He is not the source of our disappointments, but they can reveal the lies we believe and the joy he offers us. He does not want us to be consumed by confusion, but to seek the greater wisdom that will allow us to make our next steps with confidence.

I was with a friend yesterday who is traversing some painful circumstances. As we talked about them, I asked how God was being revealed in them. To my surprise, he started laughing. He shook his head, “I haven’t asked him.” I paused, and then he spoke again. “Why haven’t I asked him?”

It’s easy for any of us to put our heads down and keep plowing through the struggles that face us. We may even ask him to help us, without holding our concerns and worries in his presence, until his insight and strength give us his way through them. He not only wants to bring us freedom in our circumstances, but wholeness in his heart while he does so.

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Where Prayer and Pain Meet

After my recent blog about finding God’s presence inside our pain, several people wrote to express how they have navigated this in their own lives. One was a friend, Jack Salter, from South Carolina, who shared a piece with me from his journal, written shortly after he suffered a major stroke that compromised his eyesight. I share it here with his permission.

This struck me as similar to what David often does in the Psalms, sorting through his questions of God until trust emerges greater than his distress:

I’m not really sure where to begin here, where pain and prayers meet. The place where my dreams for a good thing, an outcome of my choosing for what I think is right, and the tear-soaked place where my pain and my prayers last met.

Not able to make sense out of anything becomes my reality… where my seemingly silly prayers for selfish things and my recognition of such, face off like old dusty cowboys in a western movie.

Looking over my shoulder and wishing for some good thing to happen, and still, my pain becomes more real than it is supposed to be. My hope is tied to an outcome for my good, and the enchantment of such makes me lean into a form of “lucky sayings”, practice, old wives’ tales, and the like. All of which sounds like religious quackery.

Does my pain become me? Does it articulate my mouth and influence each word and motive I have? Does it become me?

Pain becomes the way I see things, you, and everything beyond the captive man in the tower I am standing in.

My prayers seem to rise from a place beyond any known depth. Words that sound more like moanings and mumblings. Pleadings roll off my tongue, and often I stop to see if there is an answer, a reply, but there is only silence. Is this the place where pain and prayer meet?

Then, ever so subtly, there is a nudge. A small current of persuasion that dances like leaves in a gentle breeze somewhere next to the place where my moanings emanate.

I have seen small streams that flow out of the side of a mountain; if not but a small trickle, water amazingly gushes out from a source that is profoundly unseen. It’s as if there was an unseen force that said to the side of the mountain, “Let the water flow out.” This is the place where earth and water meet, and it defies my simple mind in how this happens.

And so is the nudging that comes from some hidden force beyond my knowing.

Wondering if my pain and prayer are bound together by some invisible force. What holds these two together and why? Am I the only one who has ever fumbled their way into this chasm? What little hope I muster seems like dipping my finger in a bowl of boiling water—mostly unsure.

How long have I been here, with the clatter of teeth for sound and fumbling fingers that seem to touch nothing? Listening, “Try listening,” I say to myself. Try to just plain stop and persuade yourself to listen. Stop. Listen.

The small nudge was the stream flowing out of the mountain. The mountain of my pain, perhaps the mountain of my doing, that has left me undone. Groping fingers that muddle in the little flow of water find nothing to hold but register something different, something unique, and something real. It is Fresh and Alive!

My station will stay here, by the small stream, where if only small comfort comes,… I at last can rest in hope. I will stay by the small strea, and the small stream will stay with me. 

And we will rest together.

I have found a similar progression in my own times of extremity. After I’ve exhausted myself trying to get God to fix it the way I want, I can finally stop. Settle. No longer fighting the pain or even trying to deny it, I can now sit in it and invite him to come. “Meet me here in the midst of my disappointments, grief, pain, or sorrow.” No longer struggling for what I want, I find myself surrendering to his love. Embracing him in my tears, I sense the trickle of Presence, inviting me to see with different eyes. The trickle grows; my capacity to trust grows with it. That’s when I discover plans that are bigger than my plans, what God dreams instead of my dreams.

Don’t think this happens in a five-minute prayer. Finding our way home to Presence may take weeks, sometimes even months. Don’t be discouraged by that; all the while, God is untangling stuff in your heart that gets in the way of you seeing him. And over time, you’ll become more comfortable in your pain, and it won’t take so long.

Now I move ahead, not only more aware of his work, but also somehow more transformed by his goodness. Is this not his abundance?

Sara and I read this in my own devotional this morning…

He is there in our simplest joys and in our most crushing circumstances, always inviting us closer, always transforming us so that we can live more freely in him. If this isn’t at least a piece of that abundant life, it is more like it than anything I’ve known to date. from Live Loved Free Full

 

 

 

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JUST LOVE Now in Stock and On Sale

This past weekend, I was invited to appear on Great Day Colorado, a morning show in Denver, to share about my new book, Just Love. The host, Denise Plante, was a fan of The Shack and wanted to know if the message of Just Love is a continuation of the same theme. She had read my new book, and we had a great conversation about how Just Love is the other side of the coin. The Shack and my previous book, He Loves Me, deal with how we each get to experience God’s love.

Just Love builds on that theme by helping people understand how God’s love not only wins us into God’s life but also invites us into the flow of love that shapes every relationship we have. If love just comes into us and we try to hold it there, it will stagnate. Love is not a possession; it is a river. We can’t own it, but we can jump in it and frolic in his delight even as we begin to see others as potential recipients of that same love.

What I have enjoyed most since writing this book with Tobie is how it has reframed God’s purpose throughout human history. Scripture has taken on a new clarity as the themes of love and justice are the bloodstream coursing through the text. We see God’s disdain for injustice, arrogance, and the exploitation of others. Adam and Eve lost life because they reached outside of God to try to find fulfillment. That compromised their relationship with God and each other. God has been working ever since to restore the connection humanity lost.

The connection between the Law of Moses, the power of the Gospel, and the reality of God’s Kingdom in the world today has never made more sense. We aren’t saved just to get into heaven, but we are rescued from the narcissism of flesh by the love of an awesome Father.

The Law told Israel how to honor God and each other in a way that would allow them to live in peace and joy. They couldn’t do it, however, because humanity was too self-focused in its fallenness. Jesus came not to abolish the law, but to fulfill his justice in his people through love. When we connect with God’s love and become one with that love, it will flow through us as we will treat others with the same compassion and justice he gives to us.

That’s why he said if we love others like we’ve been loved, the whole world would know who he is. Love manifested in God’s children would change the world. And yet, we haven’t seen that come to fruition because those who claim to be Christian are often just as self-focused as the world is, even exploiting their faith to take advantage of others.

I’ll be honest, this is quite a shift in thinking for those who have been schooled in traditional views of righteousness and salvation. I love it when I hear that people I know are taking time to process the meaning of this book. They may be hesitant at first, but they are willing to take a hard look and see if these things are so. Tobie and I tried to keep it as simple as we could so that others could grasp what we’re saying and explore it in their own relationship with Jesus. And if you have questions about all of this, feel free to send them to me, and we can tackle them on a future blog or podcast.

This is an even more amazing adventure than I knew it to be. Living loved and loving makes us part of his unfolding kingdom in the world, where God’s love and justice reign. Human justice can only come after the fact, trying to impose punishment or derive recompense from perpetrators. God’s justice works in people before they act in hurtful and harmful ways. By putting us in the place of the other, love will not allow us to do harm or take advantage of someone.

That’s the mark of one who follows Jesus; they love well and treat others with fairness and compassion. Nothing brings greater joy to our Father.

If you haven’t gotten your copy of Just Love yet, you can now order it directly from Lifestream. We finally have books in stock. To celebrate, we’re offering it on sale for $13.99 per book. And, if you want extra books to share with friends or to start a book study, you can get them for $10.00 per book when you order in quantities of five or more.

One last note, this weekend I’ll be in the Minneapolis area with some more former 2x2ers and other friends from the area. If you want to join us, it’s not too late.

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"Just Love" - How One Mistranslated Word Distorted the GospelJust Love:
How One Mistranslated Word Distorted the Gospel

by Wayne Jacobsen and Tobie van der Westhuizen
174 pages
Trailview Media
Available now in paperback from Lifestream for $13.99. Or, if you want to order five or more, you can get them for $10.00 each.
Or from Amazon:  in Kindle ($10.99),  paperback ($16.99), or hardcover ($24.99)

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