How Comfortable is Comfortable?
We were on our way home from Mansfield tonight, which is where our Wednesday night church gathering is held temporarily. As we approached our church land, Will said, "Mommy are we going to go by and see the church?"
I reminded him that we had gone by to see the "church" (aka GA red dirt, some newly laid pipes and some wooden frames that I'm sure there's a name for, but I don't know it, as well as some flagged off areas waiting in preparation for slab to be poured) already. "Remember we saw the bobcat thingy digging just before church? And also we went yesterday. And Monday. We've seen the church a lot this week."
He replied, "Yes, but it's Wednesday night. It's what we do. We go see the church."
He's right, it's Wednesday night and it's what we do. Every single Wednesday night on the way home we go by there and shine the headlights all across the land to "see what we can see," even though we've just been there two days earlier on Monday for our prayer walk time, and in this case Tuesday also this week. We go because it's what we do. We go because we love that place. It's a safe place of us, a comfort of sorts. Everything going on there is a visual 24/7 reminder of God's faithfulness. It's peaceful and serene and a visit there is accompanied with feelings of protection and provision. At least now, that is. Just over a year ago, that wasn't the case. A visit then brought sadness and distress. Wonderment and concern. A strong faith in God's ability to provide and restore, but not a faith without questions.
We like comfortable places, don't we? Our home, our spouse, special friends, familiarity...each can provide a safe resting place for us to just be, without having to "be." Those places are good. We get in our modes of operating and ways of doing things. We jump at this chance and run from that one, depending on the level of comfort attached to it. We like to stay nestled deep within our comfort zones, where we feel, dare I say, comfortable?
Lately, it seems that God is calling me to all sorts of tasks outside of my comfort zone. Some too personal to share at this moment, but filtrating within my heart. Some I've been wrestling with for years, and are at the peak of bursting through.
I'm not comfortable.
Or am I?
In Psalm 23, David writes: "The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not be in want. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he restores my soul. He guides me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me."
Walking through the valley of the shadow of death, does not sound overly appealing to me. And yet, the Psalmist says that he will not fear evil because God is with him. Figuratively speaking of a shepherd's tools, he says the rod and staff comfort him. This is a symbolic comparison of how a shepherd would use those instruments to protect, examine and discipline their sheep and how God does the same for us. The rod was used to bring the sheep under the shepherd's examination. It would slide under the fleece and thoroughly check for any warning signs of trouble, intimately checking every detail. Sparing none, it's health would be assessed. Diseases and other invasive illnesses would be detected and attended to. It was also used as a form of discipline, bringing the sheep back under the control of the shepherd when needed. The staff was used as a protector against dangerous predators and other luring possibilities. None of these comfortable situations for the roaming sheep, yet necessary for their ultimate well being. All graciously carried out from a deep rooted love for their flock. Fundamental in bringing them true comfort, beyond the surface.
There are times when God has to do the same to us. We've wandered from His provision and we must be brought back, disciplined by a Father who longs for us to be in a right relationship with Him. So often, sin and other distractions creep into our heart and life, keeping us from being and experiencing all that God created and intended for us. He examines our hearts and minds and brings us through what can be a difficult process of restoration. Aren't there also times when the Enemy is just on us? Whether it be in the form of a human in flesh rising against us, our character being attacked, or someone slandering our name unjustly. In those times, God is our protector.
All of these experiences can be painful and uncomfortable but necessary for our ultimate well being. They can also be the most exhilarating times of our lives, when we become undeniably aware of who God is. Times of vast growth. Uncomfortable moments we wouldn't trade for a million comfortable ones. Uncomfortable Moments when we really get to know this God who mercifully tends to his flock, comforting us with his unfailing love. (Psalm 119:76)
Comfort born from love, not habit.
What if our perceived comfort areas aren't as comfortable as we believe them to be? I'm learning through experience that many times what seems like comfort to me is really more an issue or habit or familiarity.
When he calls us out into the great unknown, aren't we given no other choice but to depend solely on Him? Does it feel comfortable? Probably not. Is there comfort waiting for us there? You betcha. If we truly believe that God is worth pursuing and that our comfort comes from Him alone, then why do we get so easily settled in to normalcy and complacency? Are we really that comfortable there?
What if our comfort zones instead became the most uncomfortable places we could find ourselves? What if we nestled in to those places and waited it out? Committed to find comfort in the only One who "comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God." (2 Cor. 1:4)
My prayer is not that God would keep me comfortable, but that He would keep me open to the endless opportunities to really experience Him in all my uncomfortableness. To grow in me a comfort born from His unfailing love, not habit.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
I reminded him that we had gone by to see the "church" (aka GA red dirt, some newly laid pipes and some wooden frames that I'm sure there's a name for, but I don't know it, as well as some flagged off areas waiting in preparation for slab to be poured) already. "Remember we saw the bobcat thingy digging just before church? And also we went yesterday. And Monday. We've seen the church a lot this week."
He replied, "Yes, but it's Wednesday night. It's what we do. We go see the church."
He's right, it's Wednesday night and it's what we do. Every single Wednesday night on the way home we go by there and shine the headlights all across the land to "see what we can see," even though we've just been there two days earlier on Monday for our prayer walk time, and in this case Tuesday also this week. We go because it's what we do. We go because we love that place. It's a safe place of us, a comfort of sorts. Everything going on there is a visual 24/7 reminder of God's faithfulness. It's peaceful and serene and a visit there is accompanied with feelings of protection and provision. At least now, that is. Just over a year ago, that wasn't the case. A visit then brought sadness and distress. Wonderment and concern. A strong faith in God's ability to provide and restore, but not a faith without questions.
We like comfortable places, don't we? Our home, our spouse, special friends, familiarity...each can provide a safe resting place for us to just be, without having to "be." Those places are good. We get in our modes of operating and ways of doing things. We jump at this chance and run from that one, depending on the level of comfort attached to it. We like to stay nestled deep within our comfort zones, where we feel, dare I say, comfortable?
Lately, it seems that God is calling me to all sorts of tasks outside of my comfort zone. Some too personal to share at this moment, but filtrating within my heart. Some I've been wrestling with for years, and are at the peak of bursting through.
I'm not comfortable.
Or am I?
In Psalm 23, David writes: "The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not be in want. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he restores my soul. He guides me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me."
Walking through the valley of the shadow of death, does not sound overly appealing to me. And yet, the Psalmist says that he will not fear evil because God is with him. Figuratively speaking of a shepherd's tools, he says the rod and staff comfort him. This is a symbolic comparison of how a shepherd would use those instruments to protect, examine and discipline their sheep and how God does the same for us. The rod was used to bring the sheep under the shepherd's examination. It would slide under the fleece and thoroughly check for any warning signs of trouble, intimately checking every detail. Sparing none, it's health would be assessed. Diseases and other invasive illnesses would be detected and attended to. It was also used as a form of discipline, bringing the sheep back under the control of the shepherd when needed. The staff was used as a protector against dangerous predators and other luring possibilities. None of these comfortable situations for the roaming sheep, yet necessary for their ultimate well being. All graciously carried out from a deep rooted love for their flock. Fundamental in bringing them true comfort, beyond the surface.
There are times when God has to do the same to us. We've wandered from His provision and we must be brought back, disciplined by a Father who longs for us to be in a right relationship with Him. So often, sin and other distractions creep into our heart and life, keeping us from being and experiencing all that God created and intended for us. He examines our hearts and minds and brings us through what can be a difficult process of restoration. Aren't there also times when the Enemy is just on us? Whether it be in the form of a human in flesh rising against us, our character being attacked, or someone slandering our name unjustly. In those times, God is our protector.
All of these experiences can be painful and uncomfortable but necessary for our ultimate well being. They can also be the most exhilarating times of our lives, when we become undeniably aware of who God is. Times of vast growth. Uncomfortable moments we wouldn't trade for a million comfortable ones. Uncomfortable Moments when we really get to know this God who mercifully tends to his flock, comforting us with his unfailing love. (Psalm 119:76)
Comfort born from love, not habit.
What if our perceived comfort areas aren't as comfortable as we believe them to be? I'm learning through experience that many times what seems like comfort to me is really more an issue or habit or familiarity.
When he calls us out into the great unknown, aren't we given no other choice but to depend solely on Him? Does it feel comfortable? Probably not. Is there comfort waiting for us there? You betcha. If we truly believe that God is worth pursuing and that our comfort comes from Him alone, then why do we get so easily settled in to normalcy and complacency? Are we really that comfortable there?
What if our comfort zones instead became the most uncomfortable places we could find ourselves? What if we nestled in to those places and waited it out? Committed to find comfort in the only One who "comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God." (2 Cor. 1:4)
My prayer is not that God would keep me comfortable, but that He would keep me open to the endless opportunities to really experience Him in all my uncomfortableness. To grow in me a comfort born from His unfailing love, not habit.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
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