Sea of Doubt

I’m staring at my phone just off to the side right now as I type this. The number to the doctor’s office is pulled up and I would honestly rather do anything else in the world than hit the call button.

It’s back. The numbness in my arms, the slowing of speech, the muscle spasms, the slow mornings, and the overwhelming  fear of what this could mean for my family.

The past few months have been relatively smooth health-wise, with a few minor bumps in the road, however the last two weeks have seen an increasing amount of symptoms and overall not-fun-things.

If I’m honest I feel like a disciple on the boat during a crazy storm while Jesus is fast asleep. Screaming at him to do something, all the while the boat is being rocked and waves and buckets of water splash on the deck, showing signs of impending doom.

Questions, doubts, concerns all swirling around in my head.  I don’t want doused in self-pity or sympathy, I just want to be honest with where I am and be met there.

The truth of the matter is that healing never looks like I think it will, just as following Jesus around never looked the way the disciples thought it would.

It’s in the moments of doubt and pain that Jesus meets me in the most peculiar ways, speaks to the storms, and reminds me not to fear. He is in control and wants good for me. Always. Even when I can’t see it through the storm.

This week, no matter what life is throwing your way, may you be reminded that he is in it with you and will not let the waves consume you.

“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the holy spirit you may abound in hope.” Romans 15:13

Chosen

My wife Lizzie and I went to look for our first Christmas tree last night. We recently moved into our new place and after the chaos began to dwindle down into a neater puzzle, we decided it was time to add some Christmas spirit. Christmas is by far my favorite holiday. I love the everything about it. I own a catalog of goofy Christmas sweaters, love every cheesy Christmas movie, have been known to eat my weight in homemade Christmas desserts and candies, and I’m absolutely enamored by Christmas trees and decorations.

My grandparents never had much, but every year my grandpa would miraculously find the most beautiful real Christmas tree. He had red Christmas bells that were his favorite and he would string up outside on the house, but my favorite was the tree.  I was always in awe at how immaculate it looked with each ornament glistening from the light streaming down from the angel so delicately sitting at the top. Peace and joy always overwhelmed me every time I looked at it. It felt like living Grace.

So last night when Lizzie and I went looking for a tree, I had in my head the perfect image of what I wanted to get. It would put Clark Griswold’s tree to shame when it was all said and done. We drove to a lot filled with all kinds of trees with beautiful titles; blue spruce, Douglas fir, Fraser fir, noble fir. They were surrounded by lights and decorations and Christmas music blasting throughout and it was magical. I kept dancing between the trees imaging how majestic it would look in our apartment, and then, my eyes caught the price tag and my heart dropped. The trees went from noble giants to towering green posts that would explode at any minute. We  thanked the attendant and continued on our search for the perfect Christmas tree.

A few miles down the road we stopped at a Lowe’s to look at fake trees we could keep for a long time, and after looking through them we just couldn’t seem to settle on anything. We walked around for a bit and saw that outside they still had some real trees they were selling and decided to take a look. We approached the trees and hope was sparked once again and my heart began to flutter. There were plenty of tall fir trees that were full, lush, and smelled of Christmas cheer.

We rounded the corner and we saw it, sitting in the clearance section, a scraggly goofy looking tree that completely stole our hearts. I can’t begin to tell you why on earth it captivated the way it did, the $15 price tag might have helped, but there was something about it that sparked a little bit of joy inside of me. Lizzie and I looked at each other and knew that this was the one.

As we were carrying it through the store to the checkout someone laughed at our tree when they saw and referred to it as the “Charlie Brown Christmas tree”. He looked utterly surprised and a little disgusted that we were so in love with this thing. We checked out, fit it into my car, and took it home where we hung ornaments on it, wrapped lights around it, and put it on display for all to see.

It dawned on me then that this is exactly how God looks at each one of us. There are times in my life when I feel beat up and worthless and like I having nothing to give. I feel like a tree that is in the clearance been just waiting to be scrapped and thrown away. But Jesus comes along and picks me up, wraps me up in new clothes, in majesty and tells me that I am loved, I will not be discarded, and shows me off for all to see, and heaven celebrates. He does this with each one of us. God came to earth as a vulnerable baby in one of the lowliest places to show us that even the littlest of things can be majestic. He came to show us that all can be changed and redeemed and welcomed in His Kingdom.

He has chosen us and all of our imperfections, the things that others see and say are worthless or not good enough and instead says that we are loved, accepted, and puts us on display for all to see. That is the beauty of Christmas and and that is Good news.  

This Christmas season may we be reminded that we are loved by the Creator of all, chosen and accepted, and give that gift to others. Amen

 

1 Corinthians 2: 26 “Brothers and sisters, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. 27But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. 28God chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things—and the things that are not—to nullify the things that are, 29so that no one may boast before him. 30It is because of him that you are in Christ Jesus, who has become for us wisdom from God—that is, our righteousness, holiness and redemption. 31Therefore, as it is written: “Let the one who boasts boast in the Lord.”^d

The Ways of Hide and Seek

My heart racing as I ran down the hallway, I begged God, and everyone around the house to just give me a little whimper, a whistle, something, to let me know I was close. Frantically opening every door and cabinet, ripping all of the sheets off lived-in beds, I began to lose hope of ever finding anyone.

I crumbled to the floor, desperate, defeated.  Just as I had began to lose hope and started developing a foraging and hunting strategy for my five year old self to survive, I heard a slight tapping downstairs.

This was either one of my family members, our poodle Princess, or a terrifying ghoul, but at this point I was willing to welcome any other being of existence with open arms. I got up off the floor in my misery and began walking gently on tipped toes, creeping along the hallway and looking back and forth intently for the culprit of the taps.

The taps would happen intermittently. Surprisingly enough every time I would begin losing hope that I would never find my family again, they would start up lightly and gently, quietly reminding me not to give up hope.

The taps became louder as I got closer to the basement, so I rushed towards them! Just as I rounded the corner a hand zoomed around and wrapped me up.  I was lifted into the air and a low, but welcome voice growled happily “Got ya!!” There I was in my father’s arms giggling away the fear that had filled me, safe and overjoyed.

There are times in my life when I have the exact same feeling as I did playing the seeker. Lost. Alone. Hopelessness and helplessness permeating through the unknown. Knocking down every door I can find, frantically searching for even the smallest shreds of clarity or guidance.

Unknowingness has a way of debilitating me. It wraps around me whispering lies that become all too true in my head. It creates noise and an alternate reality that is easily available and believable to me.  It paralyzes me from moving forward. I easily give up.

While this is happening God has never given up and will never give up on me. He gently taps against the walls of my heart, patiently waiting for me to tune in and listen.

Am I truly listening for Him, or am I caught up in the present circumstances, so focused on the fear and what is happening around me that I am deaf to the whisper of the spirit?

Psalms 46:10 states, “Be still and know that I am God.” God is with me just as my father was during hide and seek. My ability to hear Him is correlated to my stillness. The Kingdom of Heaven is at hand. It is accessible, always.

This day may we still ourselves long enough to hear the whisper and have the courage to follow it. May we find the Father and allow Him to wrap his arms around us tight. In His arms we are safe. We are secure. We are full of joy.

 

Who am I?

I remember the sweat dribbling from my forehead down onto my quivering lip as I stared straight into the face of a giant beast they called a defensive tackle. He was at least 4 and three quarters my size and I could tell he loved the taste of a small fourth graders blood.

I’m no football expert but I still have no idea why the coach decided to put a boy with the stature of Frodo Baggins on the offensive line across from the bloodthirsty, orc-sized humans on defense. What’s even more confusing is that I continued to listen to everyone around me, line up right of center, and get squashed on every play.

I enjoyed watching football with my dad and listening to him and my cousins talk about it relentlessly, but the truth is I had no business being on the football field. I wasn’t fast enough for running back, I was too scared of getting hit to be a quarterback, I had a 40 yard dash time reminiscent of a soaking wet sloth, and if I mustered all the strength I had, I might have been able to topple over a newborn calf, but nothing close to a living, breathing football player.

What I did love was reading and listening to music, spending hours practicing piano and writing stories of animals and people defeating dark forces. I would wake up before dawn and sneak into the kitchen to make a mouth watering concoction of whatever I could find in the cabinets, and then I would spend the rest of my day following people around talking their ear off about the most recent game I was playing or the plot points of my new favorite book.

So why on earth did I want to quit doing everything I loved to get repeatedly pounded into the ground?

I wanted to belong.

We moved to a small rural town in Oklahoma when I was eight and I was afraid the people who surrounded me wouldn’t accept me for the person that I was. So I became what I thought they wanted me to be.

I decided to choose “safety and comfort” in the the acceptance of those around me because I was afraid. I was afraid I would have no friends, or that if people saw the real and quirky me they would laugh and walk away.

Choosing the path of conformity seemed like the best option at the time but it was often at the cost of true belonging in God and who He created me to be.

There is a whisper (the Holy Spirit) inside of each us that speaks to our soul, that encourages us, that speaks to the good of who God created us to be.  When we choose to listen to this, to pursue this, to believe the whisper, it leads us to freedom, and living through it we can accomplish great things.

In competition with that whisper though, there is a mind numbing shout. That shout says things like “you will never be good enough unless you are like them.” “You won’t be accepted if you do this, so go and do that.” “You need to be this,  you should have done that” …. and the list goes on and on.

Shame lives in the words need and should. Shame lives in the thoughts and feelings of “not enough.” It feeds off fear and insecurity.

Shame has no place in the whisper. In fact, the more intently we listen to the whisper the quieter the shouts become. Shame does not thrive when we live out of a place of belonging, and it ceases to exist when we live out of the belonging that comes from being a child of the Living God.

I am so glad that I don’t have to continue to line up on a football field I have no business being at to find my belonging.

It has taken my whole life to realize that I don’t have to keep pretending to be something I’m not. God created me to be Joseph Hoffman and no one else.

There are good days and there are a lot of bad days. It’s so much easier to listen to the shouts then it is to truly hear and listen to the whisper.

The truth is God is overjoyed at who he created me to be and loves me for me. And the same goes for all of us.

Ephesians 2:10(NRSV) says this” ¹⁰ For we are what he has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand to be our way of life.”

What would happen if we chose to believe that God not only loves us but He likes us?  He is in love with what he created. Not just us at our best but in all of the goofiness and awkwardness, the falls, the triumphs and especially in the ugly crying.

I believe that we live our best lives when we truly see ourselves how God sees us, which is loved, redeemed, beautiful and belonging.

This week may we choose to listen to the whisper, and walk in the confidence that we are children of the living God.