We're about 2.5 weeks now into isolating by households across Oahu, and most people I know are in an okay holding pattern managing family needs. Now that we’ve settled our boundaries, I’m sensing a new mental phase.
I don't know about you, but I feel a bit like a fish in a tank. A tank that is being cleaned.
Everything, at least in my mind, is churned up. Food. Poop. Friends. There's a lot of everything everywhere. Sometimes things seem upside down. Other times something nice floats by that I haven’t seen in ages. Sometimes a scary vacuum thing makes everything move and the landscape shifts. More poop floats by. If I could just swim to the end of this tank, I might feel the straight edge of the wall and get my bearings.
A lot of the clouding in my tank comes from the information overload. Minute by minute, we’re managing a tide of news from around the world. For example, on one hand, I read that the canals in Venice, long murky from tourism are a tranquil blue now and the ducks have returned. Then on next click I see General Motors is now making masks instead of cars. Ducks. Masks. Ducks wearing masks. It's hard to keep up with and mentally and emotionally reconcile the bandwidth of data.
A second thing that is starting to challenge me is simply the big swell of grassroots human energy. There’s a gloriously unkempt tide of volunteerism and creativity. Last week my daughter and I had an great time making 100 sandwiches for a homeless community. I've recorded 2 new songs which I haven't done in a long time. The entrepreneurial surf is up! And then our overall relational intimacy is weirdly increasing as we peer into one another's homes and stare unabashedly, up close at one another’s faces on Zoom.
So I’m swimming this way and that in the churn of broad information and intense human activity. But when I go to bed at night, as we say in Hawaii “I ti-ahd.” My mind is exhausted from traveling across the world, and from traveling across my own reflective heart -- even if my feet have just been walking the same 5 rooms and my butt is flat from sitting.
Last night, in this mental state, I crawled into bed. At 3am I woke up, courtesy of the Holy Spirit, I believe. This verse was running through my mind:
For the eyes of the LORD move to and fro throughout the earth that He may strongly support those whose heart is completely His. (2 Chronicles 16:9)
I asked, "What's the meaning of this now, Lord?" Then I lay there a long time listening to Jordan snore and seeking God's advice in the quiet. I felt He was saying: "In this time, I'm looking for those who are looking for Me. This is an important time for that."
It was as if the Lord allowed me to swim to the end of the murky tank and touch the wall. To get my bearings.
Friends, this 2020 global crisis is part and parcel of an ongoing redemption story. While the planet is churned up like a fish tank being cleaned, do you know that God is seriously searching this same planet for a response? He’s hoping that devoted hearts will light up under his search beams, like Vegas in the Nevada desert?
Can you see His eyes, like galactic search beacons, hunting up and down our fancy or crumbling apartment buildings, over our suburban breakfast bars with their blinking iPads, into each car entering and exiting 10 million highways?
Can you hear Him ask: "Is there someone here who trusts Me with their being? Not just a stock market tick or a stimulus package. Not even a medical breakthrough, but Me. I can’t wait to find her. I can’t wait to strengthen him.”
We are more free now to trust God since the systems we banked on have proved fragile. It's a supreme moment of free agency. All that's required is that we look as hard for Him as He looks for us. And He will come to us with strength and support like no other power in the universe.
Join me in touching the wall. Let’s find our bearings by trusting God with our whole heart. It’s not just a way to survive the present chaos. It’s the key to living strong in the future.
Prayer:
Lord God, I'm swimming. Thank you for that. There's a lot of stuff in this water. Lots of debris. Some cool things too. It's hard to breathe sometimes. In this opportune moment of suspension and options, I commit myself to seek you with my whole heart. To take my bearings by fully hoping in You. Show me areas of my heart that don't completely belong to you. Strengthen me and those I love. Let revival and salvation spread across the globe in this time. How could I be part of that? Show me. In Jesus' name, Amen.
An Idea:
Copy the scripture 2 Chron 16:9 on a piece of paper, stick it in your pocket and go for a 15 minute walk. For the first 7 minutes read it out loud or under your breath; for the balance of the walk, commit different areas/concerns of your heart to God in prayer. Thank Him for bringing you strength and support in brand new ways.
Wow. This was the verse that God's been giving me the last few weeks too, especially a few weeks BEFORE the pandemic hit the Bay Area. Thank you so much for strengthening me in my spirit!
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