The hum of the oven, the warmth of the house encompassing me, the smell of baking oatmeal apple cake wafting by my nose…serene. Calm. Comfortable. Peaceful. The day stretches before me with glimmers of things I look forward to doing – projects, chatting by phone, being creative.

       Facebook brings me an update from a friend ministering to the downtrodden in our area, and the voices of their needs resound inside my head.

       “My ‘safe place’ was school – it’s no longer available. I’m fighting for hope, because I can’t get out of my home. My home is chaos, and I can’t get away. My teachers aren’t around to run to anymore.”

       “Food banks and open public spaces like libraries were our safe places, the way we could make sure our families would be all right. They are shutting down. Stores are being cleaned out of necessary things we can’t afford to buy in bulk. How are we going to keep caring for those who depend on us?”

       The reality is jarring. I sit here at home, my main concerns being what to occupy my time with and how to continue having contact with people when I can love them better by keeping my distance. These people are each morning facing uncertainty and the daily needs of themselves and their families, made even more dire by the health crisis.

       Oh church, what is our calling? Is our calling to bow our hearts and knees and pray for these ones who God knows better than we? Yes. What shall we pray for? That all their problems disappear, that there are no more homeless ones, no more frightened children? Is that the kind of prayer God is wanting to answer? I don’t know. Possibly. When Jesus was on this earth, He healed and restored such brokenness by His power.

       Are we only called to pray? On one hand, I think we underestimate how vital prayer is. We jump in with hands a-ready, hearts burdened, forgetting that God’s heart was burdened first. He must feel their pain even more than we can and knows their situation better than we ever could. We empathize with the aches and pain of life that we see them experiencing and we think, “They need ME; I can fix this for them.” Though there is a hint of truth in that, should we not pause and first remember what is written in God’s Word? Jesus has said, “I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst.” (John 6:35) The lasting life and joy for all of us is this bread from God, this bread that will never disappear, but will nourish us starting in the deepest recesses of our hearts. Truly, this is what will satisfy the deepest needs of every man, woman, and child. And this bread is something that only God can give. This is what we must pray for, before we jump in and do. If we think that we can do “better” than this by quickly fixing circumstances for those who are suffering, we have fooled ourselves.

       BUT – Scripture also declares, “He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the LORD require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” (Micah 6:8) This is not a suggestion, but a requirement, applied to us anew in the New Covenant. Through Christ, God’s love has freed us from the lusts and idols of the flesh and opened a fountain of renewing for the deepest motivations of our hearts – if we will submit to it. This is why John could write, “By this we know love, that he laid down his life for us, and we ought to lay down our lives for the brothers. If anyone has the world’s goods and sees his brother in need, yet closes his heart against him, how does God’s love abide in him? Little children, let us not love in word or talk but in deed and in truth.” (1 John 3:16-18)

       Have I understood the progression here? First, God loved us, sacrificed for us…so we ought to submit to the seed of love He has placed to abide in our hearts, and love others in the same manner. When I think of conjuring up this kind of love in my own heart, I quail, knowing how strongly the roots of selfishness and love of comfort cling to my heart. But that’s just it. God is not asking us to conjure up this love. It springs from His presence within us. He himself said, “I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.” (John 15:5)

       All this love takes is a willingness to look past our own noses and comfort, and to perhaps release control of making sure we ourselves are without a doubt materially taken care of. “I cry out to God Most High, to God who fulfills his purpose for me.” (Psalm 57:2) Do we trust that we will be okay if we let go of that control? That we will be even more fully alive if our eyes are only fixed on God, who fulfills His purpose for us, instead of on ourselves and our purposes?

       Perhaps this pandemic is a wake-up call for us to realize that this world is not okay. If we have built a walled fortress around our own lives to make sure, to the best of our ability, that it remains okay for us, perhaps we are missing the whole point. Okay, we are definitely missing the whole point! Will this pandemic drive us ever deeper into our walled fortresses, or will it reawaken us to those outside, to those who are hurting far deeper than us?

       God sent His Son to be brutally shamed, beaten, and killed, bearing our punishment for the mess we chose by our sin. He put aside everything to be ridiculed and killed for us! And yet our flesh resists giving up some of our comfort to serve the hurting and to perhaps bring the light of Christ to their darkness and hopelessness?

       But, may my soul take heed! If I submit to this requirement of God with a “grin and bear it” mentality and go into the world just to “do my duty”, out of guilt, I will also have failed. Or if I do these things for applause or personal gain, I have missed the point. For Paul declared, “If I give away all I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing.” (1 Corinthians 13:3) Our actions must flow from abiding in Him, the author of all love.

       The God of justice and love, who bought us back from our natural tailspin into death, is offering us His heart, His love for those around us. He is offering us that dependent relationship with Him that trusts that He is in front of us and with us. That this love is His mission and He will provide. No, He may not provide all the comforts and even some of what we may right now deem as “necessities”, but He will be enough for this life and for the work, as He continually points us to the life to come.

       So, church, what are we called to do? Pray, yes. Having tasted the burden of compassion that comes from our God, we must bring it back to Him with pleas and trust that He can do far above anything we ourselves could. We must pray that He will provide the deepest solutions to these people’s needs. But then, He has also called us to act. Blooming out of that seed of His love God has planted in our hearts should be actions by our hands, feet, and voices, reaching towards those who are hurting.

       Will we seclude ourselves in this time of uncertainty? Or will we see it as a time for barriers to be broken, for walled fortresses to be dismantled, and for sacrificial love to play out in a dependency on GOD? And, oh how greatly we are dependent on God as we seek to love. Knowing how to love wisely has become even harder in this time where love sometimes means staying physically away from those we care about. How would God have us love right now? And how would He have us recognize how little we can actually do, but how much He can?

        “I will give thanks to you, O Lord, among the peoples; I will sing praises to you among the nations. For your steadfast love is great to the heavens, your faithfulness to the clouds. Be exalted, O God, above the heavens! Let your glory be over all the earth!” Psalm 57:9-10

       Some days it seems as though I am only a few steps away from the emotional downward spiral of restlessness, fear, uncertainty, and frantic grasping for my longings to be met (social connection being a main one right now). Then the sweetness of a time like this morning arrives. I sit here, warm drink in hand, furry companion lounging on the carpet feet away from me, soft specks of snow filling the sky as they drift downwards in the clear, just-lit morning sky. 

I can take a breath.

      “I will give thanks” Have I fully realized that no matter what happens in these uncertain times, there will always be something to give thanks for? We fear being stripped of many of the things in this life that we deem pleasurable or even “necessary”. On one hand, I must realize that we live in much decadence and have become used to excesses that are not “necessary” by any means. It would not hurt us much to be stripped of those and would perhaps instead bring us closer together as families and communities and even as family in Christ. On the other hand, we are not the first. We forget that generation after generation of humanity has undergone intense struggle. For the majority of us, we have forgotten what the basic things of life are, simply because our lives are filled with so much. We forget that to be human often means to struggle…and it will not destroy us.

       Where is God in our struggle? I have wrestled with this a lot, ever since my own family’s life was upended by an unexpected, life-consuming struggle that lasted years. Is the answer only that God must be good, therefore my emotions of pain and heartache must be silenced and put away, made to bow before sheer reason? That is a partial truth. Yes, I must believe God is good. But He has given us way more than that. He has given us Christ, in the Incarnation; God with us. This is not trite comfort. God, the One who is faultless, unable to be tainted, came to be part of a world that was broken and tainted by our own hands. We are all broken as a result of Adam’s choice and our own sin. We deserve this – no matter how much we might resist that declaration. I deserve to be broken, to be sick, to be living as though dead, to experience the pain of broken relationships and loneliness. We have chosen this.

       But Jesus didn’t. Yet He entered into the consequences of our decisions and bore it with us. For more than thirty years, He lived the daily life of mixed joy and pain that all of us experience. Are you seeing what I have been coming to see? This life is broken…and though we, as society, have tried to plaster it back together and paint over it again and again in an effort to hide it and declare that all is well…it is not. We are naturally broken. Despite all the declarations of the secular humanists, brokenness and pain is our lot in this world.

       BUT GOD. He, the only One not of this world, is our only hope, our only good. Once I realize that, my railing protests quiet, and I must humbly come to sit at His feet in awe. Each small thing of beauty then comes to light as a gift from Him. This warmth, this feline companionship, the beauty of the snow, the light that fills the sky, the connection with humanity that lies at my fingertips through the internet…gifts, every one.

       “For your steadfast love is great to the heavens, your faithfulness to the clouds” – God’s love. The half truth is that we must believe by sheer reason that this is true. But what about those times of heartache? What IF our world turns on its head as a result of this time? Is God still loving? Yes – look at all the small joys in this life that we do not deserve! Yes – because Christ came. In Christ, we both have hope of a future eternal life where pain will be fixed (something we cannot demand now) and a hope of comfort and companionship in the heartaches of this life. God with us. Sometimes we rail against God, “Why don’t you fix this?!” But through His Word, does He not gently say, “I have…in the future. But, for now, you must stay with your lost brethren and experience the consequences of sin. Take heart, though, for I am with you.” Love. Love that reaches emotions, past the sheer reason that will deny emotion when it cannot fit it in.

       “I am with you.” Do we take that to heart? When my soul starts to gasp for the refreshing water of hope and joy, do I turn to the fountain of living waters, the One who is my source? Or do I try to drown my soul out in busyness, social media, news, or people? “As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Abide in my love.” (John 15:9) “As the Father has loved me” …wait a minute – is that really what it is saying?! As God the Father loved His own Son, the perfect, blameless One…in the same way, Jesus loves me, the broken, distraught, frantic, blind, oft disobedient child?

       “And after he had taken leave of them, he went up on the mountain to pray.” (Mark 6:46) The perfect One, while on this earth, had constant need of His Father. Because He trusted His Father’s love, we see that He turned to Him continually, in public and in private. If we can trust in this same love, how much more do we need that communion with Him? That communion that brings us to the eye of the storm, to the strength and calmness of truth about our position combined with His love. It may look like a whole chunk of time set apart in these days of less busyness. It may look like a minute pause multiple times a day to see, to thank, to abide and rest. I need it badly, for my heart is so frail, especially in these days.

       So, it becomes clear. In the worst-case scenarios, there will always be a glimmer of hope and life in Him – I need not fear whatever may come. Much lasting fruit is created by the struggles of this life.

       And He is with us. My frail heart that is daily on the verge of being swept into fears and desperate grasping must run to the Father, who truly IS love, who truly IS faithful. Those things will never change.

(I encourage you to read and ponder all of Psalm 57 and John 15:1-17. They are a great encouragement.)