The Ordinary Shape of An Abundant Life

Early Friday morning I got a text message from my mom telling me that their next door neighbor had died during the night. Though he was older, he certainly wasn't old, and his death came as a surprise. He had been sick, and, feeling cold and tired, he turned in early for the night. When his wife checked on him a few hours later, he had slipped away.

A few nights later, I found myself unable to sleep, so I got up and read Jojo Moyes' Me Before You, a novel that can only be described as poignant and heartbreaking. The book opens with a horrible accident. Will Traynor is hailing a taxi near his London home when he unwittingly steps in front of a motorcycle hurtling toward him. In an instant, the life that Will had known, a life of moxie and determination, adventure and success, drifts away like a vapor in the wind.

I can't stop thinking about it.

My mind keeps mulling over these two unrelated stories. One the very real story of a good and kind man that I have known for 20 years. The other a made-up tale of a man whose life looked nothing like my neighbor's. But despite their obvious differences, the stories have a commonality that I just can't get past. They are a stark reminder that life can tilt in the space between one breath and the next. That we honestly don't know what the future holds. That everything really can, and oftentimes does, change in an instant.

The prophet Isaiah said that all people are like grass and that our beauty is like that of flowers, which, as anyone who has ever potted a plant knows, is quite temporary. Flowers bloom once a season, and their brilliance is stunning, but it's also fleeting. It lasts for just a moment. And then it's gone.

The grass withers, the flower fades when the breath of the Lord blows on it; surely the people are grass. The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God will stand forever. Isaiah 40:7-8

It's in light of this frailty that the second half of Isaiah's statement gains its meaning. Our lives are over and done with in the blink of an eye, but God? He's forever. His word? It's reliable. 

And the word that I'm clinging to today is the word of Jesus, who said that he came not just that we may have life, but that we may have it abundantly. John 10:10

I think sometimes we read this verse and focus on the end game. The abundant life he's speaking of must be eternity, right? Well, the short answer is yes. Eternal life is by its very definition abundant. But abundant life doesn't start after death. It starts now. 

All of this has been tumbling around in my mind and leading me to scrutinize my life in the light of the truth. I mean, let's be honest. My life is a lot of things, but abundant?

It's an altogether ordinary life, but it's a good life. It's not always exciting. It's rarely adventurous. But it is full of the goodness of God. And it's my prayer that as I grow in the grace and truth of the Lord, that he will continue to fill my life from the wellspring that never runs dry. You see, in abundant life, God takes our oh-so-human frailty and brokenness and replaces it with his very own indomitable vitality. It draws its abundance from Him.

An abundant life is one that is so filled with the grace of God that it spills over its boundaries and nips at the toes of bystanders. An abundant life is one that is so bright with the light of Christ that it pierces the surrounding darkness and beckons others to safety. An abundant life is one that is so overwhelmed by the goodness of God that it simply cannot hold it in. It serves others. It loves well. It brings joy. It seeks the greater good. And it always, always, always points to Jesus.

Abundant life looks different for all of us because we're all beautifully unique. There is no one-size-fits-all picture of an abundant life. The fullness of life that God has prepared for me to lean into is not the same as the fullness that he has prepared for you. It's as different as our personalities and as individualized as our fingerprints. 

But it's also the same. Because if we're living abundantly, then it means that we're each allowing God to fill us with his love, light, grace, mercy, kindness, compassion, and truth so that we may in turn share the bounty with others. And the only way that can happen is if we surrender our lives to him and allow him to fill it as he sees fit.

If you're doing that, then I'd say that your life, no matter how ordinary, is abundant indeed. Now go live it.

Until next time, grace and peace.

He Is Good

It's been a little dreary around here over the past few days...I mean that both literally and spiritually.

I've had a lot on my mind. Lots of thoughts swirling around and clouding my vision. Nagging insecurities, uncertainties, and fears have tried to steal the light from my skies.

But the sun is there even when it's hard to see. And God is good all the time. When the sun shines and when the rain falls. He is good.

I snapped this photo earlier today as I dropped the girls off for an afternoon on the farm with Gran, and every time I look at it, I remember that with Christ, there is peace. There is truth. There is hope. And that is what I'm clinging to today.

Until next time, sweet friends, grace and peace.

What to Do When You Don't Know What to Do

A little over a week ago, I woke up to the news that a massive earthquake had hit Nepal. I'm ashamed to admit that for days, I avoided the stories and pictures. I didn't want to know how bad it was. I didn't want to know how many people were trapped or how many lives were ended. I didn't want to hear about homes destroyed or people in desperate need of relief. Because once you now something, you can't un-know it.

Knowledge brings with it responsibility. I didn't want to hear the news because I knew I would feel compelled to do something, ANYTHING, to help, but when there's a problem as big as the one in Nepal, I'm at a loss. I don't know what to do. It seems that I've felt this way a lot in the past year. Every time a natural disaster decimates an area, Boko Haram steals another batch of little girls, or ISIS slaughters innocent people, something inside me cries out at the injustice of it all.

As a believer, I'm more than a little uncomfortable with the notion of going on with my same old everyday life as if nothing had happened. And yet, in the face of such massive problems, I can't help but feel small and insignificant. As if anything I do will be like trying to bail water out of a sinking ship with only a teaspoon at my disposal, but y'all, that's simply not true. I'm here to tell you that it's a lie, and sadly, it's a lie that I've fallen for more than once. So I'm writing this to remind us both that when we don't know what to do, there are at least two things we can do that matter.

We can pray. And I mean, really pray—not just in passing, but in earnest. We may be small, but the God we serve is anything but. When we come face to face with devastation, tragedy, and injustice, even when it's half a world away, we should cry out for mercy. Instead of just reading the headlines, we should pray over them. And when we finish, we should pray over them some more. We should pray for God's action and justice, for his mercy and compassion, for needs to be met and broken hearts to be mended, for homes and health to be restored. And when the news outlets have moved on and people stop posting links about it on twitter, we should pray even more fervently. We should pray for our brothers and sisters across the world to have perseverance for the long haul, and more than anything, we should pray that somehow, some way, God's name would be magnified. Prayer matters.

We can also give. And I'm not just talking about money, although that's always helpful. We can give our time, our efforts, and at the very least, our voices. We can use our own little circles of influence to make as much of a difference as possible. As much as I would like to haul off to Nepal and hand out bottles of water to refugees, I can't. I've got a couple of busy little girls to take care of. But there are other people who can go, and I can give so that they can buy the bottles of water to hand out. I can also call attention to their efforts (see video from the Baptist Global Response below). It may not be much, but it's better than nothing. And if all of us band together and give what we can, we'll be able to really make a difference. This, by the way, is just as biblical a response as prayer. When famine struck Judea in the days of the early church, the disciples took up a collection to send relief (Acts 11:27-30), and in his letters to Corinth, Paul talks of collecting money to meet the needs of believers. It's not a new idea. It's an old one that's tried and true. Giving matters too

I say all of this because I know how overwhelming it can be to see the problems of the world. It's easy to get caught up in all that we can't do, but it's far better to do the things that we can. My prayer for you (and for me) is that the next time the headlines are clogged with news of unspeakable tragedy, we'll do what we can to make a difference.

Until next time, grace and peace.