At work I shake my head as we discussed the state of the world.  Politics, nature, terrorism, and religion have all collided and its rubbed into the face of all of us.

"The world is just a huge mess right now," I hear myself say.

When I go through these moments of questioning and of grasping for truth in my own life, I often turn to displays of God's miraculous power.

Why?

I am partly an intellectual, but when it comes to my faith in Christ, I've come to the conclusion that the miraculous works of God are one of the greatest evidences of his existence.

...

"In a few days you will be baptized by the Holy Spirit," Jesus says after appearing to the apostles (Acts 1:5).

Acts opens with the reminder that even though Jesus has left, there is more to come.

We are hanging on the edge of our seats if we must be honest.  In life, often, we are barely holding on trying desperately to give off the, "I'm okay world" vibe.

I'm not okay often.  Not on this earth.  Not while there is this schism between God and I.  Not when there is so much wrong with the world.

This is why we must anticipate these words in Acts.  For ourselves.  For the church.  For others.

Because when we are at the edge of our human limits we recognize our need for God to be present, for him to show up and not to leave.

Because Jesus' death and resurrection can't be the end of the story.

In Acts the people are mourning the fact that Jesus must ascend to heaven.  Yet, if you've read Acts you know that many incredible things occur in Acts, fulfilling Jesus' statement that, "you will received power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in Judea and Samaria and to the ends of the earth" (Acts 1:8).

When we're in the midst of our messy lives here on earth, the Holy Spirit is the one who empowers us to stand for God. We are witnesses for God, by his grace.

In the midst of what could have been a time of despair, mourning, and desperation, the church is raised up as a beacon, proclaiming the truth of the death and resurrection of Jesus (Acts 2).

In the midst of our world, the current state of politics, and the general confusion of a post-truth world. we are in desperate need for the truth of Jesus, just as in Acts.

I think that there are two responses to the beginning of Acts.

One is that we become witnesses.

By definition a witness is someone who can state what they have seen or heard or know to be true by some means. (Bible hub, 2017).

I almost had an accident today driving to work.  My mind was on something else and I wasn't as sharp as I usually would be.  So I almost ran into someone when the light turned red and they went to make their left turn.  I was the foolish driver running the red light and almost crashing.

Being a witness requires that we keep our eyes open.  It requires that we are constantly aware of God's goodness.  We keep our minds sharp.

We hold our breathe and wait with longing to see more.

We pine to know the real and living God.

And we tell.

We see, not only as the world sees, but with the eyes of Jesus, so we can be witness to the things he is doing (just as in Acts).

When the apostles say Christ ascend to Heaven they became witnesses to his ascension.

He's not done.  God is continually working and we are his witnesses to the things he continues to do.

The second response to Acts is that we are to anticipate God's power with faith.

Faith has been hard to come by at times for me, especially in times of hurt.  Sometimes I'd like to just curl up and shut down, but I know there is a better way.

The believing way. 

As Jesus ascends to heaven the people look to the sky.

"Why do you stand here looking into the sky?  This same Jesus, who has been taken from you into heaven will come back in the same way you have seen him go into heaven" (Acts 1:11)

It would have taken faith to believe this, just as it takes us faith to continue to put our trust in God over and over again even in the midst of the times he seems far off.

In the remainder of Acts 1, the people pray together and choose another disciple to replace Judas.  Life goes on even while the people mourn the end of Jesus' presence on earth.  Yet, the church continues to grow in Acts as the people continue to see miraculous deeds through the apostles (Acts 2:41- 47).  The Holy Spirit enables the people.

I am quick to shut down and forget to anticipate that God is still powerful and moving, that Jesus is still coming back, and that there is hope in the world, that a church like that in Acts is still available to me today even in the midst of terrorism, messy politics, and difficult circumstances.

I can stand with the Lord and say that I have faith that he will never leave or forsake us (Hebrews 13:5) and that he has good plans for us (the greatest plan being the gospel).

Life; here, now.  There are choices to be made today as the day stretches and the sun falls down over the horizon.  To sit and see.  Or to be busy and blinded.

Tomorrow.  The time creeps.  Each hole is filled.


I'm reading a book about Wess Stafford,  former president of Compassion.  He grew up in Nielle, Africa.  He talks about time and how the Western world is busy to fill it.

I am busy to fill it.  

But, not so much in business, but in the right things.

I want to fill it with love, with reflection, with prayer, with music, with small moments, with laughter, and with praise to the one who deserves all of my life.

I remember I used to have a huge bucket list of things to do and if I'm honest its still there, just not at the forefront.  Don't get me wrong; the adventurous spirit in me still beats as wild as ever when I let it have full reign.  However, there is also another part of me that is peaceful and calm and filled with a centre in Christ so that all this "hurry, hurry" and messages about traveling the world and seeing everything before its too late don't move me the same as before.

I won't see everything and it will be too late, but not too late for the things that matter more.

I'd rather love.

I'd rather sit and study the word of God.

I'd rather not be moved by all this hustle and bustle.

I'd rather do the hard work and remove all the things that stand in the way between me and God.

I'd rather see what God is doing.  

Time here is short and then there is this mysterious eternity.  We are headed here- into this mystery in some form.  If we know God, we will see him there- in Heaven.

I live in this perspective.

A restoration process is long and arduous.

1 Peter 5:10 says "the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast."

The morning breaks and the busy streets of Edmonton are starting to wake up.  The chill of the March morning settles and lingers.  A bird chirps and I am content to just lay there enjoying rest.

I could rest all morning.

Stay.

But the morning wakes and with it, there is a call to this beautiful, broken life.  I am pushing back the quilts and another day begins.

If I could see it from the outside, I could see God holding it all together.  Holding me and being weaved into my life in intricate ways.

But I am blind today.  I cannot see it.

I feel abandoned.

I go out into my kitchen where the world is a little chaotic.  I made cupcakes yesterday for my youth group and the remains are half cleaned up.  But the project was worth the chaos and I yawn into the morning.

Alright God, You can have this day, I say.

Oh but my heart is hard this morning.  It's a shell and it doesn't want to let God in.  Inwardly I put up a fuss at this.  Wrestle with God a bit.  He'll win, but my heart will kick back.

Why can't I just tell my heart to be open?

I read Jeremiah from the Bible, my Bible a neat little table infant of me on my lap.  A table of life.  But I am weary of Jeremiah.  I see and I've seen I am Israel and I am Judah; the places who are wayward.

I need the words of Jeremiah.  

They are a warning.  

My, but they hurt and I am tired of hearing about impending death and desolation.

How about some life?  How about some jaw-dropping, never-ending, heart-stopping life?

But this is needed too.

This correction.  This turning.

I reflect on it, wondering how is God good in this?

Because I know he is good.

When he says, "'So they will fall among the fallen; they will be brought down when they are punished.'says the Lord, 'I will take away their harvest'" (Jeremiah 8:12-13), it's hard to see him as good.  There is harshness in this book and its hard to stand it.

It is hard to see the righteousness of God here and yet Jeremiah, even as he goes to tell this hard word, says, " You are always righteous, LORD, when I bring a case before you" (Jeremiah 12:1).

Is it that God himself cannot even deny his righteousness?

He cannot go back on his own perfection.

I imagine that the church of this age would often emphasis his (God's) mercy.  However, deep down I know there is a God who also corrects and trims the branches of my war-weary life.  He brings me in line and sets me back on his right path.  And that, at times, hurts like heck.

God's love is so wide that he would punish so that there would be turning.

So I go through this: the rivers and the valleys in my life and I am allowing God (calling him really) to do his work, to make him number one, and to weed out the other desires that rock heavy in competition to him.

It is in everything that I do that I want God weaved into the fabric of my life.

Idols laid down, even if it requires some hard work.

I want him taking over my relationships, guiding my friendships, calling me into a deeper type of love that is for the benefit and edification of others.  I want him shaping my music, shaping my writing, in every bit of my artistic endeavours.  I want him in my intellectual pursuits.  I want him in my laughter.  In the morning.  In the evening.  

And I want him here in my struggles too.

For I tend to hide when things get tough.  I hide even from God.  

But I want him there to weaving, carving me, carrying me though.

For it is in the places with the most tangles that I need God even more, even closer, even in the shame.

For that is what Jesus came to do; to awaken the world to a great hunger and need for him.

He came to be the very fabric of my life.

And that is what Jeremiah is about.

Ultimately its a call to Israel and Judah to turn back to God, to reform and revoke their worship of other gods and other things.

It's about making God the fabric of life.

Here comes the thought through the fog; like a train with a clear path, snow splaying and wheels racing to its destination.

When surrounded by light it is easy to shine, to be seen, and to see clearly.  

How did it take so long to get to this conclusion?

But the darkness, where I live, I am but a tiny flickering light sometimes very alone.  It's hard to see there.  In order to have light I need to be equipped with light, like an explorer entering a cave with a headlamp.  

Bombarded by messages all day- my own thoughts, the reality of world news, snippets of songs, texts, portions of conversations, photos after photos with messages- I am always reeling.

Take it all in.  Interpret.  Correct. 

My mind's caught up in the fog of interpreting all these messages, sometimes taking them and owning them.

I want to do that someday, I think to myself as I listen to a part of a song that wretches on the strings of my heart so easily played by music.  The soft enchantment of a voice and a honest soul-searching lyric gets me caught up.

Sometimes I am rejecting them.

I absolutely see no worth in displaying my entire life on social media.  Oh but wouldn't it be nice to be loved this way?  Wouldn't it?  But no, I've decided to live differently.  

When I listen to the messages and all I do is focus on them, I get so lost in them, sometime I can't tell which way is up or down.  I could be walking on the ceiling for all I know, thinking all along that it was solid ground.

In the darkness there are lies, deception, deceit.  In the darkness I make my mistakes.  

'When Jesus spoke again to the people he said, "I am the light of the world.  Whoever follows Me will never walk in the darkness, but will have the light of life."' (John 8:12)

Whoever follows me.  Whoever.  Follows.  Me.

Words spoken so quickly by Jesus when earlier judgers mocked a prostitute, ready to stone her.

Whoever.

The words are for me as much as her- as much as anyone.  Everyone's invited.  Whoever.

I have to say it slowly because I am in the pitch black and my eyes dim throughout the day, bombarded by the messages.

But have I not been following?

In part.  In part I kneel and I go to him- Jesus.

But in part I follow the world.  I go to my vices- old patterns, old lies.  Oddly comforting.  Yes, I still kneel before them in corners of my heart I don't even fully recognize yet.  You'd think I'd been done but they have a hold in the darkness and with the messages all the more muddled, I go further into deeper dark, my light (at times) a flickering flame.

And here I find the need (so much insatiable need) to kneel and bow and to come into the light, to truly follow as the word says, to spend time in abiding, to soak in the very ground breaking news all over again, making it ground breaking all over again.  I need to tell my heart all over again to 'Bless that Lord' and all the is in my soul to 'worship his holy name.'

The Message, "Whoever follows me" follows with a promise: "will never walk in darkness, but have the light of life."

I see a different way.

A harder way.  A way that requires breaking, bending, tearing apart. 

Being other and not fitting in.  Not even- no not even with those I love the very most.

I see a 'following' way.

The result is not to walk in darkness.  Ever.  It's eternal, this promise.  Somehow I know it's eternal and is already and not yet with me.  For those who follow.

Doesn't my gut twist in a thousand ways as I look longingly at the world?  For a part of me wants it and a part of me hates it. 

The 'following' way is better.

The Light of life.  I ponder that.  I know what it is.  I hesitate around it.  The light of life.  It's something so other, so set apart, that it seems forbidden. Yet it is a gift.

Light contrasts with darkness here.  Life Contrasts with death (Ellicott, 1954).

It is, as if by 'following' opposed to 'wandering', I am literally choosing between life and death.

Am I doing that all day?

Am I choosing between life and death all day?

And I see, suddenly, that so many of the messages I have received during the day, so many of my longings were death.  These messages handed me death on a shiny platter in my up-side-down world.  And I wanted it.  Until I saw.

It is with relief that I see I have the light.

My Jesus saved me long ago and made it possible for me to walk in the light of life and to face this darkness, this death with his light.  I am eternally freed from the law of sin and death (Romans 8:2).

I have chosen the 'following' way and still need to everyday.

And now I leave with just one last thought.

Whoever.  





Ellicott, Charles J. (1954).  Ellicott's Commentary for English Readers.  Retrieved from,   http://biblehub.com/commentaries/john/8-12.htm