“For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works, so that no one can boast. For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” (Ephesians 2:8-10).
“Yvonne is still working on being a productive member of society.”
Those were the words of closing benediction from last night’s Hallmark movie. A story chronicling the woes of a homeless woman and her rescue therein. A good watch, and why I would have liked some follow-up details, the post script told me all I really needed to know.
Yvonne still struggles with her demons and with her freedom accordingly. A painful pull between the lonely wanton of the streets and the welcome embrace of a sheltering purpose. Of belonging, of fitting and of making her mark in a world that has embedded its indelible marks across her weary and well-torn heart. She’s still working on being a productive member of society.
So am I. How about you? What benediction could be written over your now? Anybody feeling a little well-worn and less than significant as it pertains to kingdom business? Is the call of the streets drowning out God’s call upon your life for discipleship? How is the pull, pulling?
For the past couple of weeks, my pull has been pulling tight. I’ve felt the profound strain between my “nothingness” and my “mattering.” The world has screamed its resistance at my feeble attempts at faith, causing a dissonance that strikes at the root of my identity as God’s workmanship. And while I understand that my sacred significance is not based on man’s opinion, my heart is easily swayed by man’s judgment.
God has created me for good works. For his good plan and for his kingdom come. Long ago, I surrendered my limitations and my plans upon the altar of his will and invited his presence into my life. I continue to do so. Why?
Because my full perfection and his full purpose for me has not fully lived its finish in me. There is still work to be done—in me, with me, and, ultimately, through me. God continues to seed my heart with a yet to be realized harvest. I cannot tabulate the eventual return, but I am feeling the cost of its current sowing.
God allows me the struggle; not because he delights in my anguish, but rather because he desires for my faith to prove genuine (1 Peter 1:6-7). To be real and relentless in the midst of difficult times that call for a resolute faith. A faith that doesn’t waver according to the daily news but a faith that stands firm and with the confidence of an abiding Holy Spirit and a determined consecrated purpose.
Faith based on the shifting sands of our uneven times is a faith that will eventually fall prey to the lure of the streets.
*To the sifting through the garbage bins for leftovers that feed rotten rather than lasting.
*To pushing carts filled with the cast offs of a fleeting treasure.
*To begging for an unjustifiable wealth.
*To sleeping beneath the covers of a dangerous and unattended dark.
*To addictions that soothe temporary and last indefinitely.
*To an uncleanliness that breathes sour and offends accordingly.
How does this “homeless” and wandering faith play itself out in our lives? What does street living look like for a Christian?
Garbage bin feeding: gaining our nourishment from the television, the internet, and the radio, instead of from God’s Word (John 6:26-27, 35; 1 John 2:15-17).
Pushing carts: filling our lives with the religions and philosophies and “truths” that produce temporal answers instead of “leaning not unto our understanding” and, thus, receiving the mystery of an eternal Truth that fills lasting (2 Tim. 4:3, 1 Cor. 4:1-4, Proverbs 3:5-6).
Unjustifiable wealth: asking for the bounty of another’s blessing instead of receiving what is ours as children and, thus, benefactors of our Father’ rich inheritance (Romans 8:15-17).
Sleeping without protections: giving into the lures of a dangerous dance in the dark where we assume no one can see, much less hold us accountable for our sin (1 Cor. 4:5; 1 John 1:5-9; Matthew 6:19).
Addictions: lining our flesh and mind with all manner of prescriptive measures meant to mask instead of lining our hearts with the sacred perspective that is intended to free (Romans 12:1-2; 2 Cor. 3:17).
Uncleanliness: wearing our sin out loud and in charge so as to cause our brothers and sisters to follow suit (Romans 14:19-21; 1 Cor. 10:31-32; 1 John 2:9-10, 3:7-10).
God hasn’t designed us to be a street people, at least not here. He’s called us to be on the streets; not as dwellers but as pilgrims. A people on an intentional journey—on the highway of the King headed to an eternal street living that lines golden and ripe and laden with the treasure of heaven’s richest fare. And until we arrive there, we are given the consecrated privilege of contending with the boundaries of a lesser road.
Lesser because everything short of our going home to be with Jesus breathes with reduction. Privileged because the road boasts the feet of those who are homeless and are in desperate need of following God’s sacred lead. Consecrated because it is our high and holy calling to take that lead … to be God’s light and his ministers of reconciliation as though God was making his appeal through us (2 Cor. 6:20).
Consecrated street living is hard living. Rarely is it convenient or comfortable. Rather, it is costly and contrary to the fleshly pulse that beats in isolation for self-preservation. Thus, I am still working on being a productive member of society—God’s society, where self-preservation takes a back seat to kingdom preservation.
These have been difficult days for many of us. We are tired and weary from our well-worn worry. Accordingly, we are tempted to fill our carts with an aimless wandering devoid of sacred perspective. We are pulled in a thousand different ways, with a thousand different thoughts, and with little anchor to hold us as steady. We are taking to the streets, rather than taking to our knees and to our need for a helping hand to guide us in the right direction.
And while I want the pull between my “nothingness” and my “mattering” to be less, I want my faith to prove genuine even more so. Thus, I concede to the struggle, knowing that my perfection hangs in the balance. Perhaps, like me, God’s workmanship in you has been a difficult striving. I understand.
You are not alone, ever. God is with you. I am with you. We are walking this road together … to our eternal rest at our Father’s feet where our lingering “demons” will finally give way to our lasting freedom. Where the streets of our current dinge and dark will be buried beneath the blistering gold of a perfected glory. We need not fear its certain coming, for it is God’s promised ending to us as Christians. We simply and profoundly need to embrace its sacred worth on the front side of its arrival.
The backside will breathe with understanding, but if we can, even now, get our thoughts anchored in the truth of why our striving matters and what awaits us accordingly, then we are well on our way to being the productive members of a kingdom society that God intends for us to be. Thus, I pray…
Make us a productive people, Father, not for ourselves but your mighty end. Forgive us our self-focus. Encourage us with your purpose. Strengthen us with your promises. Enliven us with your Spirit and work in us your perfection, all the way home to our final rest. May our knees find the floor before our feet find the streets. You, alone, are our Anchor, our Sustainer, and the Perfecter of our faith. Encourage us with this certain truth as we walk each step of this day. Amen.
Copyright © November 2008 – Elaine Olsen. All rights reserved
