Community is Hard (And That's Okay)

[The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media]

When we read the news or go on social media, we see clashes between different groups of people everywhere--harsh words, arguments, even violence and crime. It could be a one-sided misunderstanding or hatred, or sometimes it’s more complex than that. Whatever the fuel, the outcome of not valuing people who are different than us because of race, sexuality, religion, or something else always fails to reflect the heart of Christ. 

Photo Credit: Dan Gold

The problem is not unique to the present day. For the early church, the temptation was to keep the news about Jesus to themselves and the kind of people they thought needed to hear it. In Acts 11 though, the word began to spread. People who had suffered persecution scattered to a variety of places, and while some of them continued to only spread the word among Jews, others began telling Greeks. It seems an obvious thing to us--of course the Greeks should know about Jesus!--but there were likely Christians who disagreed with this approach, wanting to keep things as they were. Change is often scary, and certainly is when we’re not sure we’ll fully on board with it in the first place. 

As we look at our own lives, we may not find outright hatred for people who are different than us, but we may also discover that the people we surround ourselves with are more like us they are unlike us. It’s easy to get caught up in our own lives and only focus on the people already within our comfort zone. Our singular focus can cause us to forget to look for the people around us who are different than the kind of people we’d normally surround ourselves with but have deep value they can add to our lives. While it’s true that no one person can maintain healthy relationships with hundreds of other people, we can--and must--seek to create the space in our lives to begin the process. As much as we often forget about building relationships with those are different than us in our personal lives, it’s all too easy for churches to do it as well. 

The early church had to come around to the idea that the good news of Jesus was not something they could keep to themselves. As Encounter Church, that’s our mission as well--to spread the good news of Jesus. Over the past six years since we started, Encounter has grown a lot, but part of growth is to continually re-evaluate where we are and where we could and should be going. The reality is, the people who attend Encounter on a regular basis are, for the most part, fairly similar in quite a few ways. If we mean it when we say we believe the good news of Jesus is for everyone, we have to ask if we’re doing all we can to reach everyone. Does our current state do a good job of reflecting the community God has placed us in?

There aren’t easy answers to this question, and there are no simple, five-minute quick fix solutions. Asking ourselves if we are truly doing all we can to spread the good news to all the people around us might be a good starting point though. It might start as small as realizing there are groups of people who already attend Encounter that we have rarely, if ever, taken the time to talk to and get to know. From there, how else can we reach get outside of our comfort zones to begin building new relationships--not because it’s easy, but because it’s good and necessary? 

As we seek to be good members of the community God has placed us in, how will you support that mission and take part in it?

[Brianna DeWitt believes in Jesus, surrounding yourself with good people, and that desserts are best when they involve chocolate and peanut butter. She writes about faith, growing up, and whatever else pops into her head on her own blog, and tweets (largely about food) at @bwitt722.]

Trusting God's Plan

[The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media]

At some point, we've all hesitated outside of a door that we did not want to enter. Whatever lay behind that door was terrifying: your first college class, a job interview, your new in-laws. Last week, I struggled outside the door of my workplace, the key missing the lock as a tremor went through my hands. This summer I had finally acquired a job in the field of psychology, my area of study and a passion dear to my heart. I had been warned in my interviews that my position in a residential treatment facility would be physically and emotionally taxing, and was I prepared for that? I thought I had been until the one night shift where everything went wrong. I had walked out of work two hours late that night, bruised and shaken. And now, I had to enter through that door again. I couldn't help but wonder if this is what God truly wanted for me.

Photo credit to Peter Hershey.

Jonah's situation surpasses all the hard jobs and new in-laws of the world. In Jonah 1, God commands the prophet to go to the city of Ninevah, the capital of the Assyrian empire. The Assyrian empire was renowned for its brutality, oppressing the people through force, intimidation, and public torture. One can hardly blame Jonah for hopping on a boat and sailing in the complete opposite direction. He could not fathom why God would want him to save these horrible people, possibly at the expense of Jonah's own life.

Sometimes, God asks us to do something so far beyond the realm of what we could ever imagine Him asking. It might coincide with our own desires or it might veer from them completely. God's planning defies all human logic: He might ask us to take risks that seem unnecessary, to sacrifice a little more than we are comfortable with, or to walk alone into a city of hate and speak love. It is not surprising that we often flee from the course that God fixes in our hearts; following God requires trusting in the intangible and accepting the incomprehensible. Even for Jonah, a devout prophet of God, such a tremendous amount of trust was simply too much.

As Jonah quickly discovers, one cannot run from God’s purpose. To quote Psalm 139:

"Where can I go from your Spirit?

Where can I flee from your presence?

If I go up to the heavens, you are there;

if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.

If I rise on the wings of the dawn,

if I settle on the far side of the sea,

even there your hand will guide me,

your right hand will hold me fast."

Photo credit to Julian Svoboda.

Sometimes when we doubt God’s plans, He provides us with little reminders that He is a mighty and capable God. This is not to frighten us into obedience, but is meant to reassure us that God knows exactly what He is doing and that He is able to provide for us in the most extreme or unlikely circumstances. Sometimes these reminders can be subtle and small, like a whisper in the darkness. Or sometimes you are thrown overboard into a stormy sea and are swallowed by a giant fish. Maybe some people need more of a wake-up call than others.

Jonah remained in the belly of the fish for entire three days, which probably gave him plenty of time to contemplate his situation. In Jonah 2, Jonah prays a passionate prayer, proclaiming strengthened trust in God’s power:

"To the roots of the mountains I sank down;

the earth beneath barred me in forever.

But you, Lord my God,

brought my life up from the pit."

Jonah goes on to say that he will obey God’s instructions to go preach in Ninevah, stating that “...I, with grateful praise, will sacrifice to you.” (Jonah 2:9).The fish vomits Jonah onto the beach, and without hesitation, he walks straight inland towards Ninevah.

In the end, God’s plans are fulfilled and the people of Ninevah repent for their wrongdoings. Although Jonah did not anticipate nor understand this outcome, Jonah eventually accepted that he was merely an instrument to carry out God’s divine design:

"I knew that you are a gracious and compassionate God, slow to anger and abounding in love, a God who relents from sending calamity."(Jonah 4:2).

We can’t fathom all of the possible outcomes, all of the complex intricacies that God can see plain as day and has carefully constructed. Maybe you are unsure of your current job, too; perhaps you are on the fence about a new one. Maybe you don’t know what to study in college, or where to go to college, or if you even should go to college at all. Maybe you feel compelled to reach out to someone who is suffering, but doubt that they will listen to you.

As Christians we often end up suspended in a strange limbo where we feel God pushing us in a certain direction, but we are frozen. Maybe we are uncertain if the voice we hear is God’s. Or perhaps, we are terrified because we know the voice belongs to God and He is telling us to open a door that we would rather not enter.

I don't know if my job at a psychiatric unit is where I'm meant to be, but am doing my best to trust that God will put me right where He wants me. I'm still waiting for that subtle hint, that whisper in the dark, or perhaps, for a big fish to come along.

[Abby Hocking is a senior at Calvin College, where she studies psychology and writing. She is employed at Pine Rest Christian Mental Services and plans to become a therapist. Abby is a proud literature nerd, running addict, and puppy enthusiast. She thanks God daily for her wonderful family, her loving friends, and for Twenty One Pilots.]

Not the Point

[The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media]

I find interruptions frustrating – from my son Hugo interrupting whatever I’m doing while he’s supposed to be napping, to life-scale interruptions like multistate moves and family members' deaths. I grow frustrated that things aren’t following my neat plan, whether it’s just a plan for the day, or for years or a lifetime.  

The Bible is full of interrupted stories. Though they were promised a large family, Isaac and Rebekah were barren for twenty years. After wandering the desert, the Israelites are finally ready to head into the Promised Land, when they run into a river. Naomi tries to preserve her family during a famine by moving, but they all die, leaving her only two daughters-in-law. Elijah is called to prophesy God’s word to turn the hearts of Israel back to Him, but is met continually by interruptions – drought, famine, oppression. From a human perspective, the cross sure looks like a setback for the long promised King who would save God’s people.  

Interruptions set the stage for God’s glory. Setbacks remind me that I’m not God.

Jacob knew God’s promise that his family would become a great nation, and he found a beautiful wife. But - they couldn’t have kids. How would God’s plan be fulfilled? By God alone.

“Isaac prayed to the LORD on behalf of his wife, because she was barren. The LORD answered his prayer, and his wife Rebekah became pregnant.” (Genesis 25:21)

After forty years of wandering, the Israelites were finally ready to head to the Promised Land. But - the Jordan River blocked their path. God was the only way they could get to the other side:

“This is how you will know that the living God is among you… And as soon as the priests who carry the ark of the LORD – the Lord of all the earth – set foot in the Jordan, its waters flowing downstream will be cut off and stand up in a heap.” (Joshua 3:10, 13)

Naomi lost everything, so she set off for home, for Bethlehem. But – even if she returned home, there was no husband or son to own land or make money. How would they survive? How could an interruption like that be part of God’s plan at all? By God’s providence, Ruth (her daughter-in-law) married Boaz, their redeemer.

“The women said to Naomi, ‘Praise be to the LORD, who this day has not left you without a kinsman-redeemer. May he become famous throughout Israel!” (Ruth 4:14)

Elijah delivered the tough prophecy to Israel’s king that a drought was coming, discipline from the LORD for their wandering beliefs. Then he rode a roller coaster of setbacks and God’s glory. Elijah had gone into hiding, but – he had no food. God provided a river and food (1 Kings 17:4) But - the river dried up. God miraculously provided food through a family (1 Kings 17:14). But - all the other prophets were killed, and Elijah was all alone! God alone silenced the prophets of the false gods:

“Then the fire of the LORD fell and burned up the sacrifice, the wood, the stones and the soil, and also licked up the water in the trench. When all the people saw this, they fell prostrate and cried, ‘The LORD – he is God! The LORD – he is God!’” (1 Kings 18:38-39)

Throughout the Bible, interruptions are the avenue where human incompetence, ineptitude and failure turns our eyes from fallible people to our perfect God. The tension in these stories doesn’t break when Isaac, Rebekah, Joshua, Naomi or Elijah dig deep inside of themselves and muster their last bit of strength, ingenuity, wisdom or power. It breaks when God story supersedes their own. They depend not on their own strengths, but believe in the unfailing strength of a God who saves, who is faithful, whose story is being written with their lives. The interruptions are a reminder that we aren’t the point of the story (I know, that might be hard to hear, especially in our everyone-is-a-unique-unicorn culture).

We exist to bring glory to God. He is the point.

I get frustrated by interruptions and setbacks because I’ve taken my eyes off God, and I think I’m the most important person in the story. I think that my individual path – and let’s be real, the ease of that path – should be of upmost importance to everyone, and especially to God. How would I ever know that I needed a Savior if my path were straight, smooth and interruption free?! How cruel would God be if He allowed me smooth sailing, yet I missed His glory?

Interruptions point me to a God who is greater than I could imagine. He interrupts to remind me that I am not the point; I was created for His glory (Isaiah 43:7). And the interruptions remind me that I need a Savior – one who would not find the cross He faced a setback, but

“He humbled himself and became obedient to death – even death on a cross! Therefore God exalted him to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.” (Philippians 2:8-11)

The setbacks we face are not tests of our strength, skill or wisdom; they are not for our defeat. When we are weak, then He is strong; and He receives the glory. When my eyes rise from my own obstacles to the One who created everything, frustration melts in the face of His Sovereign plan.

“For God, who said, ‘Let light shine in darkness,’ made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ. But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us.” (2 Corinthians 4:6-7)

[Robin Bupp is married to Caleb, and they are from many places east of the Mississippi (but are calling Michigan home for the foreseeable future). A former high school science teacher, Robin is slowly turning the two Bupp kiddos into tiny nerds while they teach her lots of things, especially humility and patience.]

"You Want Me to Build What?"

[The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media]

It was midnight on a night during finals week and I was finally leaving the campus library, with my entire next day meticulously planned out and several alarms already set on my phone for the morning. I had been ecstatic to be going to bed early (as compared to other nights of my college career) and made a beeline for my frosted car. My carefully structured routine guaranteed me a smooth finals week; nowhere in that routine did I have a two hour conversation in the library parking lot planned. A friend had intercepted me halfway to my car and we walked through the snow together. She confessed to me that finals week had been making it difficult for her to cope with her clinical depression, and did I have some time to sit in the car and talk? With a final exam the next day and precious potential hours for sleep ticking away, I honestly didn't have time, but God threw my structure and routine out the window and made time.

Photo credit to Eric Rothermel

This wouldn't be the first time that God has interrupted a steady, ordinary life for His own purposes. Genesis 6-9 tells the widely known story of Noah, a simple man leading a simple life. Noah was a hard-working farmer and a faithful husband and father, and those two roles alone encompassed his entire existence. Noah learned very quickly that God is not afraid to pull us from the current of our daily lives and re-direct us to a project that we could never imagine ourselves completing. In Genesis 6:15, God instructs Noah on how large to build the ark:

“This is how you are to build it: The ark is to be three hundred cubits long, fifty cubits wide and thirty cubits high.”

These measurements translate to 450 feet long, 75 feet wide, and 45 feet high. Given the primitive technology that existed in the era of Noah, this was a formidable if not impossible task, especially for one individual. Doubtless, Noah was daunted in the face of these instructions and wondered why God has chosen such a simple person for such a complex undertaking.

As evidenced by countless other Biblical figures, God has the tendency to choose the most unlikely people to carry out His plans. In addition to being an ordinary individual, Noah was also a broken man, who stripped naked and became intoxicated when he got off the ark (Gen. 9:21). God does not select the most pristine and flawless of candidates to carry out His work; God uses drunks, liars, thieves, prostitutes, and yes, even caffeine-driven, burnt-out college students.

Just as God's strength is limitless, through Him, our potential is limitless, and we should lean on Him in complete surrender as He leads us from one strenuous project to the next. One remarkable fact about the story of Noah is that throughout the entire four chapters, Noah doesn't have a single line. Not one word. The entire focus is on God and the plans that He is shaping. Repeatedly, the Bible states: “Noah did all that the Lord commanded him” (Gen. 6:22, 7:5). No hesitation. No questions. Just faithful obedience.

Photo credit to Jeff Sheldon

Like Noah, we should strive to give up our control and let God work through us when we are presented with a challenging project. Noah could have ridiculed the idea of tackling a project so next to impossible, scratching his head and scoffing: “You want me to build what?”

Looking back on that chilly night during finals week, I recall feeling similar sentiments. As we sat in my car and I cranked up the heat, I found myself asking: “Why me? Why now?” I know now that the answer is this: Because God commanded me. To quote Joseph Campbell: “We must be willing to let go of the life we have planned so as to accept the life that is planned for us.”

We often pray for God to protect us from interruptions such as this, yearning to cruise through life on a steady course, but it is God who creates these interruptions. God interrupted a farmer to build a boat of gargantuan proportions, and in doing so, preserved the world He loves. I found out later that the conversation I had been so reluctant to have actually saved someone's life. These interruptions may be inconvenient, scary, and maybe even a little ridiculous, but nothing God does is without purpose. Genesis 8:1 assures us that God does not overlook our efforts:

“But God remembered Noah and all the wild animals and the livestock that were with him in the ark, and he sent a wind over the earth, and the water receded.”

The water receded. Noah and the animals were safe. I woke up with a strange amount of energy and performed well on my final exam. My friend won another hard-fought battle against her depression. Just as God remembered Noah, He remembers us. God might present us with a project that seems beyond our capability, but with that comes the unwavering promise that He will show up. 

[Abby Hocking is a senior at Calvin College, where she studies psychology and writing. She is employed at Pine Rest Christian Mental Services and plans to become a therapist. Abby is a proud literature nerd, running addict, and puppy enthusiast. She thanks God daily for her wonderful family, her loving friends, and for Twenty One Pilots.]

The Grace of Closed Doors

[The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media]

I once applied for a job I just knew was going to be great. It was right around the time I was graduating from college, my experience was in line with what they were looking for, and it was a field I was very much interested in entering. Then, without so much as a phone interview, I was told I was not selected for the position. It was disappointing, confusing, and disheartening. So I carried on and applied for a slew of different jobs, mostly not hearing back at all, or if I did it was only to tell me I was not selected.  No after no kept coming, and I couldn’t understand why.

In Revelation 3 we read the letter to the church of Philadelphia. For these Christians, the “no” was likely accompanied by the physical shutting of a door. Instead of being allowed to continue to worship in the synagogue with the Jews, with the people they had grown up with and loved, their decision to follow Jesus meant the synagogue doors were literally shut for them. The closing of those doors probably had an impact on their family relationships, their social circles, and their very way of everyday life. 

While we may not know what it’s like to be barred from a place of worship that was integral to how we viewed ourselves, we’ve likely all had situations where doors seemed to be shutting in our faces. Whether it’s rejections from job applications, frustrating situations with children that never seem to get better, or relationships that keep ending, they all have their own disappointments that go along with them. Jesus’ words to the church in Philadelphia ring true for us as well. He reminds the people that he sees them. Jesus knows what it’s like to be rejected, and he is with us in our deep pain. As he continues on, he tells them, “I have placed before you an open door that no one can shut.” It’s his way of reminding the people that wherever their story has them right now, it is not done being written yet.

When we hit closed doors, it’s easy to fall into thinking that God is unkind or unloving. After all, if he really cared about us, wouldn’t he be opening the doors that we want him to open? And of course, sometimes he does--we get into the dream school, we meet a wonderful man or woman, we succeed financially--but in those times, we also have to remember that it’s not because of anything particularly awesome we do, it’s because of his grace. At the same time, the closed doors are their own kind of grace, even though it might be a painful one. Closed doors can hurt, but they can allow us to turn and find another way, the way God is opening. 

Months after I applied for the job that seemed so great, I found myself applying for a different job at the same company. While I wasn’t as confident that I was a fit for this new role I was applying for, I sent in my resume anyway--and over a month later, I accepted their offer. After being in my new job for a while, I realized that the original position I had applied for would not have been a good fit for my skills and personality, but my new role was. At the time I couldn’t see why God was letting me be turned down for all those jobs, but now I can truly say I’m grateful for it. Often times we can’t see these truths when we’re stuck in the mess of constant “no” without the glimmer of a “yes” anywhere in sight, which is why it’s so powerful to be able to look back on those times when we finally can see the closed doors for the good that they were. 

As much as this is true in our own individual circumstances, it was true for the church in Philadelphia, and it’s true for Encounter Church in Kentwood, Michigan in the year 2016. From the time that Pastor Dirk and a small team of people originally had a vision for a new church, God has continued to open doors for us in a variety of ways. At the same time, he’s also closed doors for us as a church, not because he’s unkind or unloving, but because he had a different way for us to go. Although the church in Philadelphia was comparatively small and of little influence compared to other cities, God kept it thriving because he had a mission for it fulfill. For those of us who consider Encounter our spiritual home, it is good for us to consider how we can be a part of what God has said “yes” to for our church. He has opened doors for us to serve our community in unique ways, and it’s our privilege and our responsibility to use those opportunities well. As we continue to grow and change, what are other ways we can continue to look for the doors God is opening, or closing, out of his grace? And are we willing to walk through those doors when we see them?


[Brianna DeWitt believes in Jesus, surrounding yourself with good people, and that desserts are best when they involve chocolate and peanut butter. She writes about faith, growing up, and whatever else pops into her head on her own blog, and tweets (largely about food) at @bwitt722.]

The Weighty Truth

[The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media]

“You've overcome too much to just die of lung cancer.” I couldn't meet the eyes of my good friend, who had spoken these words after I had admitted to caving into smoking. Again. She had caught me completely off guard, using the words that were on everyone's minds, but few dared to utter. Die. Cancer. It stung, but deep down I knew the discomfort was right and just, and I knew what I had to do to change things.

I wish constantly that I could be as courageous as this friend of mine, but I take comfort in the fact that I am not alone in my struggle to be truthful towards others. It's not necessarily that we lie and say something dishonest; on the contrary, usually what causes the most damage is what we fail to say. We sugarcoat; we dismiss; we excuse. Anything to avoid our responsibility to the truth. This is not what God wants for us.

In his letter to Thyatira, God addresses the city's evasiveness of correcting injustice. Like other letters compiled in the book of Revelation, the letter is tailored specifically to the church in question. Historically, Thyatira's main purpose was to forge bronze armor for the Roman army. In Rev. 2:18, God compares himself to fire and to bronze to provide an analogy applicable to the recipients:

Photo credit to Jakub Skafiraik

“These are the words of the Son of God, whose eyes are like blazing fire and whose feet are like burnished bronze.”

It is here we are reminded that our loving and gracious God is also the Lord of truth and justice. The truth is unshakable and unmovable, like bronze. Its fire might burn, but it also refines. God urges us not to try to change His truth, but instead, to allow it to change us.

Like my friend who called me out when I reeked of cigarettes, God is unafraid to call us out on our sinfulness. He is also unafraid to call us out on not calling each other out. Revelation 2:20 describes Thyatira's toleration of a false prophet, a prophet dangerous enough to be referenced to Jezebel, the wicked queen from the Old Testament. Jezebel had introduced Baal worship to Israel, polluting its people with untruthful beliefs. The false prophet of Thyatira likewise led the people astray as they participated in adultery and other sacrilegious immoralities. The guild of bronze workers, which had been meant to serve as a type of union, was transformed into a cult. Just as the injustices we continue to see plague our world anger us, they also anger God. In Revelation 2:21-23, God states that wickedness requires correction and repentance:

“I have given her time to repent of her immorality, but she is unwilling. So I will cast her on a bed of suffering, and I will make those who commit adultery with her suffer intensely, unless they repent of her ways. I will strike her children dead. Then all the churches will know that I am he who searches hearts and minds, and I will repay each of you according to your deeds.”

Admittedly, this passage is troubling to read. We prefer to cling to the rainbows and sunshine Jesus who radiates love and compassion and dismiss the God who seeks justice. We forget that God's enforcement of the truth stems from His love for us. 1 Corinthians 13:6 reminds us that “love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.” God indeed calls us to love one another, but this does not equivocate to condoning evil.

Although the citizens of Thyatira were aware of their wrongdoings, they did not hold one another accountable, allowing each other to delve deeper into sin. As a Christian community, we are responsible not only for our own morality, but for each other's. The purpose of fellowship is not merely to encourage one another, but to encourage one another to go in the right direction. As I write this, I feel hypocritical, as I am guilty of sacrificing truth at the expense of my love for others. Fear of destroying a friendship, of hurting someone's feelings, or of coming off as condescending or judgmental, often prevent us from stepping in when a fellow sister or brother has wandered down a dangerous path. This is not to say that grace and toleration are not important; they are a crucial component to embodying the love of Christ. But grace and toleration only make up for one half of what it means to love someone. Love absent of truth is of no help to anyone. Love absent of truth allows your co-worker to sink deeper into a porn addiction. It allows your roommate with an eating disorder to avoid seeking help, or permits your son or daughter to repeatedly fall into unhealthy relationships.

Photo credit to Jenelle Ball

Receiving the truth can be painful, and perhaps telling it even more so. I have no doubt that it hurt my friend a great deal to look me in the eyes and tell me that what I was doing could eventually kill me. The truth is heavy: it forces us to pause and evaluate, to correct and repent. My friend embodied the love of Christ not by sparing me of the truth, but by commingling the truth with grace. She reminded me that I had overcome worse and that God had been helped me to prevail in the past. She reminded me that she believed in me. The truth is a powerful, weighty force, but I know that she didn't speak those words to drag me down. She used the truth to pull me forward.  

[Abby Hocking is a senior at Calvin College, where she studies psychology and writing. She is employed at Pine Rest Christian Mental Services and plans to become a therapist. Abby is a proud literature nerd, running addict, and puppy enthusiast. She thanks God daily for her wonderful family, her loving friends, and for Twenty One Pilots.]

Overcome

 [The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media]

I stood next to the hospital bed where my dad was dying (this won’t be a funny blog – sorry!), and the prayer group from my mom’s church stood around us. His lungs weren’t working at all anymore, and they were praying for miraculous healing. In that moment, I have to admit, I wasn’t praying at all. At noon I had been having a normal day, teaching and shouting at kids in the hallway four states away. Then a phone call, a ride home, plane tickets, connecting flights, and now an ICU bed with my family and the prayer team; I wasn’t in a great place and so instead of praying, I was thinking of the absurdity of their prayers. (Please know that in retrospect, I am so thankful for the ministry of those anonymous people who had gathered to stand in that gap.)

My dad had been in a coma for a week, as a result of complications after what should have been a simple surgery. Doctors were scrambling for explanations of why his lungs were failing, why so many body systems were breaking down; all of my confidence was in the medicine. I felt like if God couldn’t work through the medicine and the doctors, we were pretty much done. In the moment, I found their prayers frustrating, and their presence intrusive. They left, we cried, he died. No miracle.

There were lots of quiet hours that followed that day. We didn’t have loud kids yet, and we moved to a new city soon after; I didn’t even have a job or friends to get in the way of my thoughts.

I wasn’t angry with God about my dad’s death – I knew that my dad loved Jesus and trusted Him for his salvation, and I have confident hope that he is full of delight in His presence. But my cynical moments with the prayer team revealed a deep issue in my heart that couldn’t be ignored. Did I believe God could do anything? Did I trust Him? 

I had to wrestle with the question: Who had I been trusting to save my dad, medicine or God? And who do I trust to take care of me, myself or God?

Sometimes big moments reveal the underlying truths that define our daily lives. I began to see that I trusted myself, and my logic and wisdom. I trusted education and money to make my world secure and safe, I trusted my own plan for the future (built on toothpicks of Biblical wisdom, but held together with the glue of human wisdom), to make me happy. I trusted God to take me home at the end…but I trusted Him for very little else.

In my very passive pursuit of God (showing up on Sundays, trying to be good, and occasionally remembering that I claimed to have quiet time and I should dig out my Bible and look at the words inside for a few minutes), I had reduced Him, and then added beliefs in culture’s definitions and methods of happiness and fullness – at least, the ones that were acceptable for a Christian. I knew so little of God (because I had not spent time seeking to know Him!), and so much of culture (because it was so available and easy and unchallenging), God had become small in my life.

This Sunday, Pastor Dirk shared from Jesus’ letter to the church at Pergamum in Revelation 2:12-17. Jesus was calling them out for this same issue – for believing in God, but then adding on other beliefs that rivaled God until their faith was unrecognizable and unremarkable. They believed in Jesus and participated in a faith community; but their inclusion of other beliefs and worship to fulfill their desires revealed their distrust in God. He might not be enough, so they supplemented Him with cultures’ wisdom and practices. They had adapted to the world around them, until they were in a place where they needed a rebuke from Jesus! Their faith became unrecognizable as they added choice after choice to their belief in Jesus Christ as their Savior.

“Compromising with the world begins with a lack of trust that God will see you through.”

That quote from Pastor Dirk reminds me of Eve, that original lady and her struggle with trust – and fruit. She lived in full communion with God, and enjoyed the fullness of His creation. She had everything she needed for the most joy-filled, abundant life. No sin, no death, no brokenness, no shattered dreams or broken hearts, no separation – just peace and contentment and fellowship with her Maker. As she discussed the only thing God had asked her not to do (eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil - fruit she wasn’t supposed to want and definitely didn’t need) with Satan, her trust in God faltered. She began to doubt that God was good, wondering if He was holding back something desirable, depriving her of what she began to imagine was better than everything she already had in Him. Her trust in God shrank, and she compromised and tried the fruit. Her doubt led to sin. See James 1:13-18 for a New Testament description of this same thought process that we can get so caught in!

In those dark months after my father died I wrestled for trust in God; He whispered to my soul, inviting me to know Him in new ways I never had, showing me His faithful love. We are on a journey, and He reveals more and more places where I have compromised, where I have tried to merge faith with worldly wisdom, where I have tried to bend His plan to my own. I’m nowhere near the end of the path, but I trust Him so much more deeply now than I would have if He had not shaken my sleepy, small faith awake!

In the letter to Pergamum, Jesus has some encouragement to those who “overcome.” Way back in Genesis, Jacob (the grandson of Abraham, father of the twelve tribes of Israel) wrestles with God – literally (Genesis 32). Jacob hangs on, wrestling all night until the light begins to dawn. He never pins God, or gets Him to tap out; yet God rewards him with a new name for “overcoming.” It’s striking that God declared Jacob an overcomer simply for remaining in the struggle, and holding on to Him. Jacob wasn’t perfect, he didn’t have exceptional character or morals, he just wouldn’t give up or disengage from God. Might we also stay in the fight, clinging to God, letting Him prove faithful even in our doubts, that we might be called overcomers!

Stay in the fight. Ask God to open your eyes to the places where lack of trust creates compromise with the world in your life.

[Robin Bupp is married to Caleb, and they are from many places east of the Mississippi (but are calling Michigan home for the foreseeable future). A former high school science teacher, Robin is slowly turning the two Bupp kiddos into tiny nerds while they teach her lots of things, especially humility and patience.]