I feel the threat of attacks rising as the sun tempts to rise over the horizon. Lies of the enemy just waiting to push buttons of temptation. Anything he can do to keep me from basking in the glory of the Son and reflecting that glory to the world around me. When you feel isolated, your reflection only goes so far. And when one person feels like they aren’t even reaching another, they ask what’s the point? We were made in the image of God – in the likeness of the trinity – with an innate need for fellowship. And when that need goes unmet, we easily distort our perceptions of reality into contortions similar to mirrors in the funny house. Nothing makes sense, we don’t know which way is up or which way to turn. Confused and exhausted, it’s easy to ask, what’s the point? And desire to give up completely.
But the truth is, we are never alone. Never. For one, He has
said, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.” He is here. Always. And not
only is he here, but his arms are open wide and he invites us into his loving
embrace. Not condemning. Not chiding. Simply loving, forgiving, encouraging us
on this difficult journey.
Secondly, we are being watched – by someone. Constantly. Spouse, kids, parents, siblings, social media contacts, the cashier at the grocery store, the person driving in the car next to you, the barista at starbucks, the teacher, the student, the patient, the coach, the athlete, the boss, the employee. And they too, each one of them is longing for connection whether they realize it or not. Naturally, as humans, we reach toward each other, even those we don’t know simply to be reminded that we are as human as they are. Each eye that watches you looks to catch a glimpse that there is maybe, possibly, more to this life than just surviving. They are looking for hope. They are looking to you. They are looking to me. No, we are not alone, we are very much surrounded.
But our enemy secures our blinders and makes sure we keep
our eyes down so that we don’t make those connections. He wants us to feel alone.
As Lysa Terkeurst says about our enemy, “If he can isolate us, he can influence
us” (It’s Not Supposed to Be This Way, 150). Satan wants his voice to be the
loudest sound we hear. Lies like: You’re
a failure. You’re not good enough. You’re too much. It’s not worth it. Just
give up. His purposes are clearly lined out in scripture. He has come to
steal, kill, and destroy (John 10:10). And what better way to steal our joy,
kill our hope, and destroy our effectiveness than to bring us to a point of
isolation and despair.
John 10:10 doesn’t stop there. Jesus goes on to say, “But I
have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” Life - made a
living being, coming directly from the breath of God breathed into Adam and has
been breathing into us by the power of his Spirit ever since. We are living
creatures, Imago Dei – made in the likeness of God – and as such we are made
for relationship. But when we hide due to our hurts, our wounds, and our fears,
when we struggle with concern over what others think of our hearts, we isolate
ourselves and open that door to being influenced by the enemy again.
Our Christian culture has convinced us that its most holy to
be joyful (or at least be okay) with the difficulties. James 1 is oft quoted
when trials arise, “Count it all joy.” And yes, that is our obligation –
eventually. The problem arises when we don’t allow time for grief. Jesus wept
over the death of Lazarus (even though he knew the truth of who He was and what
he was about to do.) Jesus again mourned over Jerusalem (though he was about it
rescue all who believed in Him through his sacrifice.) “The Lord is close to
the brokenhearted and saves those who are crusted in spirit” (Psalm 34:18). And
in Romans 12, we are instructed to weep with those who weep.
Life hurts. It’s hard. This sin stained place is suspended
between the fall of Paradise and the not yet fully redeemed. And it’s okay to
grieve that. Grief, is good. Tears heal. Your wound may not look like mine, but that doesn't make it any less significant. Now may be my time for weeping. Now
may be yours. Joy will come in the morning (maybe tomorrow, maybe days from
now.) And the truth is, in the midst of our sorrow, we can still trust that God
is good, that he works all things for good, and that He loves us. Oh, how he
loves us.
For now, if you’re here (or if you’ve been here, but you’ve
been encouraged to move on too quickly), I encourage you to stay for a while.
Linger. Allow the feelings to surface, and pour out your heart to God – He is
our refuge (Psalm 62:8) and he cares so very much for each little (or big)
thing that has wounded his children’s hearts. Don’t stay alone in your pain.
Share it with a friend. Talk to a counselor if you need to. Close the door to
isolation, and close the door on the enemy’s influence. Jesus is Jehovah Rophe’
– our healer. And he will see to it that your wounds are well tended.
Friends, if someone opens up to you about their pain, listen, don’t preach. It’s okay for us to grieve. It’s okay for it to hurt. We can be sorrowful yet joyful in the hope of God’s glory at the same time. It is possible! Let’s get back to living life to the full like Jesus intended – in true fellowship with one another!
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