Come Close to Me

Reconciliation is the reason Jesus stooped way down from heaven to suffer human brokenness in physical death, provide atonement for our sins, and provide the ultimate victory for believers – reconciliation with God from Whom we had been estranged since Adam. But, living out reconciliation as believers is still hard. Almost everyday I ask myself “why can’t we all get along?” And then I answer my own question with “I know why, I just wish it could be different…”

What we long for is what only Jesus can provide. Genesis 45:3-5 says, “Then Joseph said to his brothers, ‘I am Joseph! Is my father still living?’ But his brothers were not able to answer him, because they were terrified at his presence. Then Joseph said to his brothers, ‘Come close to me.’ When they had done so, he said, ‘I am your brother Joseph, the one you sold into Egypt! And now, do not be distressed and do not be angry with yourselves for selling me here, because it was to save lives that God sent me ahead of you.’ “

One key to reconciliation is “coming close.” God did this “coming close” when He sent His only Son to us to provide a way for our salvation through His death and resurrection. We in turn need to do this “coming close” in our primary vertical relationship with God and then our horizontal relationships with people.

We live with the possibility that we can offer one-way forgiveness to others when they have hurt us, but the reality that we may not be able to experience two-way reconciliation. Isn’t this the model Jesus gave us? He came to provide forgiveness for sin, but seemingly many do not accept the invitation into Christ’s reconciliation and choose to remain lost.

In my educational career, I found that all kinds of hostility and evil could be perpetuated by trying to communicate with colleagues, parents, and students indirectly through social media, email, texts, and letters. Misunderstanding abounded. The absence of body language and facial expressions made imaginations run wild. Missing tone of voice was a setup for confusion.

As walls of misunderstanding were being built up, it always seemed that they came magically tumbling down in face-to-face meetings. Of course, the magic is in the power of the Holy Spirit to break down barriers and move in with love and grace. Physical presence always seemed to light the path. Empathy was made possible. Forgiveness was easier to embrace.

Joseph had already forgiven his brothers for selling him into slavery and not knowing if he was alive or dead many years later. He had been freed from the slavery of unforgiveness. Yet, he longed for reconciliation with his brothers and God made a way for this. It involved “coming close.” Joseph initiated the process of reconciliation as a picture of the way God would initiate reconciliation through Jesus Christ.

If we live out faith in Christ by modeling Him, we need to be initiators of reconciliation. When we are sinned against, we need to make the first move. The first move deals with our own hearts. We need to repent of any part we have played in causing hurt and then forgive others for the hurts they have caused. But then, like Joseph, we need to keep doing the work that is our part – to move in close to those who have caused the hurt, to seek restoration, repair, and rebuilding if it can possibly be re-had.

What we find is that proximity and presence, being in person, being face-to-face, and “coming close” are all barrier-droppers. If you read the story of Joseph, you will see that, even though the process of reconciliation took years, that Joseph was constantly moving toward it. It was his hope, his dream, and his longing to be reunited with his family. It was the work to be done to which he was dedicated. It was the work to be done that depended on God’s grace and mercy to be completed. It was the work to be done that God used for the salvation of many lives, not just Joseph’s family. The picture is usually bigger than what we see, because God is working behind the scenes to continue His offer of salvation to many others.

“Come close to me” is the watchword for moving from forgiveness to reconciliation.

Mahanaim Moments

In my quest to carve out a life in this world I have been driven, if not western-enculturated, to love achievement. First borns are notorious for that orientation to achievement. I always wanted the straight A’s. I wanted the degrees. I wanted the awards. And I wanted the satisfaction that comes from hard work. I wanted a noble career. I wanted the white picket fence. I also wanted independence…

I grew up plainly seeing God in His Word, in church, and in Christian high school. In the gentler ways, I knew heaven was a reality just like the Bethel experience in the Jacob’s Ladder story (Genesis 28). I believed. I saw Jesus Christ as the bridge to salvation. I understood the realities of heaven and earth. I accepted the gifts of faith and new birth.

But more frequently, I was assaulted by the countless hard places that were strewn in my path by God to invite greater dependence on Him. One great reckoning came in Canaan Valley, West Virginia, where my earth-shattering culture shock took place. “City girl” met a cocktail of remote (and I mean remote) geography, 200 inches of snow, new marriage, new job, and new baby. I asked myself, “WHAT have I done?” But Faithful God whispered to me, “Now it’s just you and Me. Depend on Me.” What else could I do? All my props had been yanked away. And independence sure wasn’t working…

My literal prayer for those two years was, “Get me out of here!” Life in Canaan Valley was a wakeup call, definitely one of my Mahanaim moments! (I like the name. Mahanaim is the place where Jacob wrestled with God, nothing gentle about it). For me, West Virginia was both an ardent struggle with God and a forced settling into my God-given roles as a wife and a mother in a beautiful, mountainous, but depressed economic location. No malls. No movie theaters. No grocery stores except one. No hospital (the nearest was 45 minutes away).

Since West Virginia, a chunk of my lifetime has passed by with many Mahanaim moments, the spiritual wrestling matches I have had with God along the way, although not as severe as Jacob’s experience in a place called Mahanaim. Mahanaim was a location given in the Bible (Genesis 32:2), likely about 10 miles east of the Jordan River. Here’s the story. Genesis 32:24-30 says, “And Jacob was left alone. And a man wrestled with him until the breaking of day. When the man saw that he did not prevail against Jacob, he touched his hip socket, and Jacob’s hip was put out of joint as he wrestled with him. Then he said, ‘Let me go, for the day has broken.’ But Jacob said, ‘I will not let you go unless you bless me.’ And he said to him, ‘What is your name?’ And he said, ‘Jacob.’ Then he said, ‘Your name shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with God and with men and have prevailed.’ Then Jacob asked him, ‘Please tell me your name.’ But he said, ‘Why is it that you ask my name?’ And there he blessed him. So Jacob called the name of the place Peniel, saying, ‘For I have seen God face to face, and yet my life has been delivered.’ “

Looking back, God provided me with a lifeboat of solid Christian girlfriends who helped start me on a journey of regular women’s Bible studies wherever I lived from then on. But, in the moment, prospects looked bleak. Like Jacob, God had to stop me in my tracks and realign my priorities. Only by His grace! I know He earnestly started a sanctifying work in stubborn me after my years of dodging Him while chasing my so-called dreams. No matter how intentionally I have tried to poke out of His providential bubble, in my college years especially, I seemed to be tethered to a divine plan that led to that one of several Mahanaim experiences. God certainly showed up and my life would definitely be “Canaan Valley different” from then on.

There is a lot of mystery in Jacob’s wrestling story, yet Jacob knows He has experienced God personally. There is mystery in my own story. But, I can say with certainty that there have been profound Mahanaim battles in my life between heaven and earth, God’s strength and my strength, God’s will and my will. These are two realities that often pull me apart. Thankfully, I don’t have a battle scar like a permanent limp. On the other hand, there are limp-like reminders of God’s painful sanctifying work in my life. Reminders left behind by a loving God.

I have always walked away from my Mahanaim moments not the same. I have walked away with a changed heart. There’s a lot of name changing in the Bible – have you noticed? And after Canaan Valley, I walked away with a different name. “Patient” is one of those new names. “Encouraged” is another. “Hopeful” another. “Content” another. Coincidentally, just about the time I was resigned to living in the mountains forever, God moved my family to Virginia.

And not because I earned a free pass. But because I went into the ring, engaged in all the punching and flailing, and wouldn’t let go until God was finished with His sanctifying outcome for me. His plan and His glory are all that is important. Sometimes holy outcomes in my life are temporary, but just the same, the Mahanaim repeats are worthwhile.

Photo credit: Twisty Road – US33 through the Virginias – Andrew Lavigne’s Website alavigne.net

Making Peace with Dust

God chose dust as one of the important particles He used in Creation. You will remember your school days studying particles in science class maybe? Dust may have varying smaller components, but it can be seen almost anywhere, except for the few seconds following a thorough dusting and vacuuming event in your house. Wait 15 minutes and you will see all the dust return!

Genesis 2:7 says, “Then the Lord God formed a man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being.” Definitely a cause to respect dust. And then there was that terrible problem of sin in the Garden that brought an even greater reality to dust. Genesis 3:19 says, “By the sweat of your brow you will eat your food until you return to the ground, since from it you were taken; for dust you are and to dust you will return.” I sometimes wonder what role dust would have had in the event that Adam and Eve didn’t disobey God and roll us headlong into the Fall and its consequences – to dust we will return…

I have lived with allergies all my life. Manageable allergies, but always there. I have seen allergists. My most recent allergist performed the traditional skin tests probably a decade ago. Nothing had changed from my childhood. I tested positive for dust among other allergens like mold, mildew, grasses, pollen, etc. Go figure. I am allergic to the very thing of which I a made. The proof is in the half a box of tissues that I go through on particularly dust-filled days, sneezing and blowing my nose. It is kind of poetic considering the dimensions of what happened in the Garden of Eden. Another fallen thing…

The remedies are impossible to secure. A vacuum cleaner that doesn’t throw out any exhaust dust. Not happening. Industrial strength Hepa filter air purifiers. Not happening. No carpet in the house. Not happening. No forced air heating and air conditioning. Not happening. No stirring up sources of dust. Not happening… I love to quilt and therefore fiber dust flies all over the place when I am cutting and sewing fabric and batting. When the sun shines on the surfaces in my sewing room, the utter storm of dust is revealed. My allergic reaction is, in my imagination, tantamount to breathing secondhand smoke. I will suffer. But granted, it is manageable and I will continue to quilt in the future.

One day this week, I wrestled with a decision to clean up the sewing room dust or not. Resisting my OCD passions, I just whispered to myself “Why don’t you just make peace with dust and move on?” There is comfort in not getting bogged down by the underside of things. Just like the back side of a tapestry, the raw side of a quilt top looks pretty chaotic and ugly. But, the final product is beautiful. There is a pattern in all these metaphors that reveals a pattern that God frequently uses. He purposes to use the ordinary to reveal the extraordinary. God uses the perishable dust of man to release the imperishable new creation that believers will experience in eternity with Him as the result of genuine faith. The new creation. From old to new. From dead to living. From earthly to heavenly. From dust to life after dust. The extraordinary.

Don’t let “dust life” steal your heavenly vision. The Israelites actually longed for the dust and rust of Egypt when they lost their focus on God. Paul Zach has written a song called “Restore Us Again” and one of the verses goes like this: “We longed for Egypt in the wilderness, A kingdom made of dust, Built an idol out of happiness, A paradise of rust.”

I am thanking God today. He is the Only One Who breathes life into our dusty souls. He is the Only One Who chooses to put His spiritual treasures into these jars of clay (2 Cor. 4:7) called humans. He is the Only One Who could save us from the kingdom of dust and make all things new in Christ Jesus. He is the Only One Who could breathe eternal life into our otherwise deadly destination without Him. I’m making peace with dust, because for me, it is only temporary.