a different kind of kingdom: part one

"I'm going to need you to put a flat lid on this," said the lady to whom I just handed her iced coffee.

"I put the dome lid on because there is a little bit of extra ice in there and I didn't want to make a mess out of your drink." I explained.

"I don't care. No one else makes my drink like this. Put a flat lid on! Are you new here?" Her insults spewed from her lips faster than I could have even corrected the mistake.

Taking her drink back, I removed the dome lid and put a flat lid on. Just as I expected the drink overflowed, down the sides of the cup and onto the top of the lid. I proceeded to wipe off the sides of the drink and handed it back to her.

Obviously getting more upset, "This drink is a MESS!"

"Yes, that is why I put the dome lid on it."

The next few minutes proceeded on like this. Her being over-dramatic about a meaningless situation and me being a little bit more snarky than I should have been. As my co-worker remade her drink, conviction settled. I was unkind and I knew it. The Holy Spirit began to probe my heart.

As my co-worker handed her the new drink, I approached the woman and apologized for my attitude and my mistake. She looked up at me with unkind eyes and said, "You aren't sorry! You were incredibly rude!"

~~~~

First, we'll get the obvious out of the way. How quickly that could have been avoided if people did not live as if they were entitled to their way all the time and always being right.

But the more important idea I want to talk about is this:

After the ordeal and as I baffled at my ability to get upset so quickly, God spoke so clearly to my heart, reminding me of the words I had read earlier in Ephesians. "Be kind to everyone, Leah."

"But God! I don't want to be kind, she was so unkind to me!"

"Be kind to everyone."

That was all. It was as easy as that. How was it fair that she could be so unkind to me and I am called to turn the other cheek? How is it fair that she can walk all over me and God tells me to love her anyway?

It's because I am called to a different Kingdom, a different life, i have been made new. 

I have been studying the book of Ephesians and it is radically all about the Gospel. Ephesians 1 describes who God is and what He has done and the praise that He deserves because of His glory. It is that who HE is has made me who I am. Ephesians 2 reminds us what we were. And you were dead in your trespasses. Once during youth group in high school, my youth pastor was preaching and all of us were in a circle and he told us to imagine a dead person was in the middle of that circle. That person was dead. They were lifeless, without breath, without hope, without choice. That image sticks with me when I remember who I was. I was a child of wrath, I was devoted to destruction.
In the transitional pivot in Ephesians it says
BUT GOD...
because of his great love he adopted us into a new Kingdom, a new household.
In Ephesians 3, he tells us that this Gospel is for everyone. Everyone is invited to be a member of God's household. He prays then, that we being rooted and grounded in love would have the strength to comprehend this incredible truth.
Ephesians 4 brings the commands, the guidebook by which we live. Therefore... be humble... gentle..speak truth...no longer walk as Gentiles...put off your old self...be renewed...in true righteousness and holiness... put away falsehood..do not sin...no corrupting talk...do not grieve the holy spirit... be kind to one another... forgiving one another...

If i read that list, the list of commands, requests and sins, fully by itself. I would become irritated and frustrated. No, I don't want to be kind to the customer that tells me I'm dumb, or my boss that has the incredible ability to make others feel like they are nothing. No I don't want to gentle and humble to my sister that claws for my attention. I don't want to forgive those people. On my own.

But when I read those commands within the context of God telling me who He is, reminding me of how worthy HE is and how HE deserves nothing less than my entire heart. When I remember what HE saved me from, how HE put breath in my dry bones and adopted me from a child of wrath to a child of HIS. When I am reminded that HE gave this gift to everyone, including the unkind customers, my prideful boss and my annoying sister, I can turn the other cheek in LOVE. Because it is then that I turn my eyes from the situation and see HIM. When I read those commands in that context, my heart is free to follow them. I will be humble because Christ was humble, I will speak truth because that is all that is given to me. I will walk in the newness of LIFE because that is what God has given me. I will be kind and forgive because that is who HE has called me too.

No, those commands don't always seem fair. But I am now a stranger to this world. I live in a different kingdom and a different household. I serve a beautiful, wonderful, indescribable God and when He says, "Leah, be kind." I will turn the other cheek and I will be kind with his grace, his love, his heart.

"So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God, built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Christ Jesus being the cornerstone, in whom the whole structure, being joined together, grows into a holy temple in the Lord. In him you also are being built together into a dwelling place for God by the Spirit."
Ephesians 2:19-22

Beauty of Struggle

There it was. The beauty of vulnerability in the struggle. The stunning light of community shining through as we saw her tears. The moment was so vivid, so real, it captured my soul.
It began with a simple question, "How are you doing?" But in the midst of this genuine question, our friend felt the safety of being real. The honesty that community brings. And it was that moment that made me understand everything that God has been teaching me.

About two months ago now, one of my friends told me about her struggle. A deeply lonely year, financial struggles, and a discontentment that we can all understand. She said, "Leah, why do bad things happen to good people?" In a joking matter, she laughed and said she was going to cry herself to sleep. The words quickly formed on the tip of my tongue and I almost said these dangerous words that would have ruined everything. "It's going to be okay, God will provide for you."

These are both unbelievably true statements. But the timing of these phrases was wrong. If those words would have flown from my flippant tongue, I'm sure the depth and the realness of the moment would have been shattered. It would have been like glass falling in a quiet room. An awkwardness would have settled.

Instead, I said something different. I affirmed her pain and her struggle. I think in doing so, I was invited into a journey I would have missed if I had covered her pain with a Christian bandaid.

This was the beginning of a journey for me. On the flipside, I felt like my life was going well. I am loving school, I have a good job with wonderful co-workers. My car is running efficiently. My life is beautiful. I am in a completely different place than I was last year at this time. Last year, I was still unsure of where I wanted to be, what I wanted to do, and I experienced a loneliness that shook me to my core. But my relationship with Jesus was thriving. I struggled with him and wrestled with him and I relied on him for everything. Somewhere in the transition from struggle to thriving, my relationship with God went from thriving to struggle.

Why is it that prosperity pushes us far from God? Prosperity screams a Gospel that is not accurate. It tells us that struggle is wrong, it whispers to the depth of our souls that we have to hold it all together. And even when it is going well, nothing can be wrong, nothing can be off. A facade is built. It says, "I'm fine. Jesus and I are great. My life is perfect."

Under that facade, though, I think is a struggle that is even more real. It is a struggle against pride and a struggle that tells me I don't need Jesus. It quenches the deepest of my thirsts with superficial, temporary fixes and I still come up searching for Living Water.

In the beauty of struggle, I see Jesus. Last year, even though my prayers consistently contained cries and fears, I met Jesus in ways I never have before. He was here with me within the deep struggle. I saw Jesus even when I wanted to let go. I see Jesus in my friend who is serving as a missionary struggling to learn the language, but thriving. I see Jesus in my friend who cannot understand why bad things are happening to her, but she is holding on to him. I see Jesus in my friend who lets tears fall down her face and tells me that it's been hard and she is trying to trust God but the world is telling her so many different messages, but in her vulnerability, I see Christ shining through.

The struggle is hard. The struggle stretches us beyond what we feel we are capable of enduring. The struggle often makes us want to let go of everything we live for because it is challenging. The struggle pushes us to Jesus. In our struggle, we realize that there is nothing else that we can hold onto. So I'll be honest, I'm struggling to hold onto Jesus in this season of prosperity, but as I look to him and see he is the greatest good, the purest love, the most wonderful companion, my doubts fade and my thirst for Him grows. And I know that in this struggle, I will meet him because he promises that when you seek him, you will find him.