This week I was reading in John 21, and God spoke to me about peace. He asked me to share what he said, but first let me set the scene.
The followers of Jesus are cowering together in a room together with the doors locked.
Because their leader, who they thought was going to bring about political freedom, has been murdered. Tortured, mocked, and nailed on a tree to die for “no reason” according to the man who released him to be crucified. And even though some of them have seen him alive after he’s risen from the dead, they are hiding because people are hunting them to kill anyone who has followed Jesus.
Chaos, riots, turmoil in the streets. Fear permeating through the locked doors. Sound familiar?
And then Jesus shows up in the midst of their fear and says “Peace be with you.”
Today I heard him speak through his word and the whispers in my spirit. This is what he said:
No matter what is happening in the world right now, when I am with you, you will have peace. Do not get caught up in the drama of the times. Sit with me. Abide with me, and I will bring peace. I will cover you with peace. Not the peace the world claims void of racism and pandemics and turmoil and killing and riots, but peace outside of that, beyond it, in spite of it. Peace is not the absence of turmoil, it is my presence that is perfectly right and transcends what you can see. If you seek me, you will find me. If you trust me, you will rest in me. If you align yourself with me, it doesn’t matter what is happening in the world, you will be in peace, surrounded with peace, covered with peace. I AM WITH YOU. Peace be with you. Let me breathe on you. Live in forgiveness. Stop doubting. Stop looking for something in the world to bring you peace, just believe the I AM, and I AM with you. Peace be with you.”
During a discussion about the events of the recent murders, our love for our friends of all races, and how to navigate in a world where the violence of some escalated into ridiculous destruction, my husband asked a question.
“What about forgiveness? What would Jesus be thinking/doing in this situation?”
I thought he brought up a good point. One that has caused me to contemplate and consider my thoughts, opinions, and actions in regard to the racial injustice now and for hundreds of years previously.
So many thoughts and questions.
We talked about how we can’t fully understand what it feels like for someone of color to have to be careful where they go, what they do, and how they look. We haven’t been in a situation to have to instruct our children how to be careful when driving or being out with friends.
What little experience I have of that type of discrimination is when my younger brother, in our late teens/early twenties, was pulled over more than a couple of times because his long hair stereo-typed him as a drug user.
Or the numerous times I’ve been followed by men in cars trying to lure me, degrade me, or assault me because I’m a woman. Even as recently as a couple of weeks ago, a man in a doctor’s office elevator undressed me with his eyes. Not a pleasant experience.
But still, it only gives me a small taste of the concern and tension my dear black friends feel on a daily basis.
We talked about how people all over the world are discriminated against, persecuted, and maligned because of their skin, beliefs, or cultures. I asked Brendan, who’s from Australia, if he had any friends who were of Aboriginal descent, those who were native to Australia, and if they experienced the same kind of discrimination.
We talked about how we both felt uncomfortable now with people of color because previously we simply saw everyone we met or knew as people. Not white people or black people or Asian people or Latin people. Just as someone might use skin color as a description of us white folks, we might describe others the same way by their color or ethnicity or culture, but we didn’t think of it in a derogatory way. Is it?
But now, would people assume we did? Had we not been interested enough in the past to find out someone’s story because they were of a different color or background? Should we go out of our way to be kinder than usual to let people know we care about their color? Have I discriminated in some unknown way because the majority of the characters in my books have white skin?
I believe that black lives matter.
They absolutely do. I’ve been ignorant in my assumptions that black people aren’t treated badly “any more” as a whole. I’m grateful for the conversations that are opening my eyes, and breaking my heart.
And I also believe that every life matters.
Every single person whether they’re black, of another culture or race, white, young, old, male, female, unborn, or living with some kind of limitation or disability should never be thought of as “less than.” But haven’t we all at some point looked at someone else and thought they were not as good, right, talented, kind, handsome, fit, pretty, etc. as us?
Not to take away from this current crisis of racial injustice.
But the bottom line is our sinful hearts. Wrong motives. Selfish attitudes. Pride. Fear. Lack of compassion.
And what about forgiveness?
I believe there is a place for righteous anger. God has displayed his in numerous occasions in the Bible. And I believe he calls us to speak out against sin; not people, but sin, calling out evil and injustice. He tells us to speak for those who don’t have a voice. To stand up for those who are in captivity.
But I also believe God calls us to forgive. To lay down anger, and not let it make us sin. Not let the sun go down on it. Not let it turn into roots of bitterness. He says our anger will not bring about his righteousness. Even if we’d like to believe it will.
What the officers, as well as so many others we don’t even know about, did in killing innocent people or turning their backs as it happened, was so wrong. Unjust. Evil. It’s righteous anger that calls it out for what it is.
And, as my husband pointed out, Jesus was beaten, tortured, and murdered in a horrific way too, but he chose to forgive those who did not know what they were doing.
Of course, they knew what they were doing. But they had no real concept of how wrong their actions were. They were ignorant of what it meant in a bigger than human understanding way. They were foolish and led by evil, self-centered hearts.
Doesn’t that describe all of us?
Should we forgive? Jesus forgave us. He forgives the officers that killed Mr. Floyd and the others. He forgives the rioters and looters. And he forgives us for any of our opinions and fears and questions because our understanding about all of it is not his understanding.
He tells us that we see through a glass dimly. We can’t grasp all of what this means. We can’t. Even if we think we can and try to. So the best we can do is to spend time with him asking him to give us his eyes to see. His heart to understand and love with true compassion. For everyone.
I’m all about taking our lives forward into more abundance. When we deal with our past, God can heal us, offer us hope and redeem the broken places in our heart. That’s why I’m so excited about my new book, Rachel’s Son. Rachel’s heart has been broken by the murder of her son, and that’s not the only challenge she faces.
As a result, she’s shattered and lost, not understanding God or his purposes. She can’t get past the pain to find freedom, love and life again.
Ever felt that way?
Yeah, I have too. But what I’ve learned is that by pushing through the pain, not hiding it, ignoring it, denying it or burying it, we will step into an abundance of joy. But it’s not easy. It’s scary. And it hurts. It may even feel as if we won’t survive.
It may take us months, or years or decades, but when we finally decide to step through, like pushing through the wardrobe or sea in Naria, we will learn to live again.
“The deeper my past sorrow, the greater my present joy.” Simeon, Rachel’s Son
Rachel’s journey is a grueling one, maybe like yours and mine have been. But with God there is hope, healing and redemption.
Rachel’s Son releases on March 20th. I thought you might like a sneak peak 😉
“‘A voice is heard in Ramah, weeping and great mourning, Rachel weeping for her children and refusing to be comforted, because they are no more.’” Matthew 2:18
Rachel pulled a loaf of crusty bread from the fire as the ground began to quake. Terrifying reverberations shattered the morning peace. Thundering hooves. Neighing horses. The roar of an approaching army.
She dropped the bread and lurched for the front door.
Within seconds an army flooded the village. Soldiers on horseback pounded through the street, weapons ready. Children scattered, mothers screaming their names. A two-year-old lay trampled in the dirt. Another ran, wailing. A soldier speared him through the back. A man jumped off his steed and forced his way into the home next door. Rachel’s neighbor shrieked, “My baby, my baby!”
The soldier reappeared, blood covering his hands.
Rachel froze, her knees buckled beneath her.
“Micaaaah!” She stumbled into the road, darting between horses, “Micah!” A roughened hoof clipped her hip. She fell to her knees and crawled out of its path. Dust caked her face, the stench of blood suffocating her.
Her closest friend, Elisabeth, staggered from her house, the battered body of her baby son in her arms. Her keening tore through Rachel’s heart.
“Stop!” Rachel forced herself to her feet. “Stop!”
A grim soldier scooped up a toddler and dashed his brown, curly head against the stone wall of his home. A woman laid crumpled outside her door, a swaddled baby in her arms. Their blood pooled together in the dirt.
Bile rose in Rachel’s throat. Chest heaving, her muddled thoughts rushed over each other in a torrent. The only clarity in the chaos was the certainty that Micah was dead.
She dodged around the corner of their house. Her worst fear materialized. His chubby little hand still clutched a stone he had been playing with. A shriek pushed out of her.
“Oh, dear Jehovah, please no.” A bleak whisper tumbled from her lips as she stumbled to his body now crumbled in a tiny crimson heap. She fell on her knees in the wet dirt where earlier he had played, stacking rocks and chattering to himself.
“Miicaaah!” The scream burst from her lips as she scooped him up, hugging him to her chest.
“Oh, Micah.” She wailed, rocking his bloody body back and forth.
Her only son. Her miracle from Jehovah.
Why? Why? Her heart screamed. What kind of war was waged against helpless, innocent children?
Look for Rachel’s Son on Amazon March 20th. The digital version will be FREE for a limited time.
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And will not God bring about justice for his chosen ones, who cry out to him day and night? Will he keep putting them off? I tell you, he will see that they get justice…” Jesus Luke 18:7-8
Have you ever been robbed?
I was once. Someone broke into my house and stole $600 from my bedroom. Even though I never saw the thief, a creepy sense of violation made being in the house and sleeping at night difficult.
Have you been betrayed?
Maybe a friend gossiped about you, or your spouse had an affair.
Have you lost a loved one because of murder, an accident or illness?
And what about assault? Many of us have been physically abused, molested or raped. Even verbal abuse is an assault. When we’re a victim, we can become stuck in a place of feeling the need for the wrong to be made right. The injustice to be rectified.
We seek – we need vindication.
Most people have had some kind of injustice visited upon them. But much of the time, vindication doesn’t come. Perpetrators rarely admit their crimes let alone apologize for them. Often, our hurt goes unanswered because we kept the offense to ourselves. Maybe we even blamed ourselves.
I was stuck there. Here are a few signs that you may be too:
Do you notice even the slightest of wrongs whether against you or not?
Are you hyper vigilant to point out when your family “messes up?”
Do you find yourself believing that your loved ones are trying to hurt you?
Do you take offense at mistakes as if you were the target?
Are you quick to assign blame?
Recently, I read the verse above. It wasn’t the first time, but it was the first time that I took to heart what Jesus was saying. I realized that my thoughts and action were often the result of feeling the need for vindication for the many areas I had been victimized in my past.
Jesus’s words finally sunk in.
He is the one who defends me. He will make it right in the end. At some point, those who have hurt me will be called to account. He WILL see justice done because I am his child who he loves.
He loves you too.
He sees our distress and pain. He knows the injustices we’ve suffered. He is not ignoring us. It may seem that he doesn’t care, but his timing is perfect. It is not for us to hold onto the injustices – that only hurts and hinders us.
When we allow his timing for vindication, we can be free to live. No longer will the weight of those moments hinder our lives.
We can let go.
Sometimes we need to talk about the hurt, pain or injustice in order to let it go into Jesus’s hands. I’m happy to listen in the comments below.
Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see. Hebrews 11:1
Isn’t it great to know that God looks more at our willingness to have faith and be faithful than he does at whether we keep his laws?
Of course, as we grow in faith, we will also desire to live rightly with God and others. But in Hebrews 11, God gives us a list of folks who made mistakes and bad choices but God praised them for their faith in him.
Even though they blew it in other ways.
Abraham lied about Sarah being his wife.
Moses killed a man and disobeyed God.
David took another man’s wife and murdered her husband.
Noah got drunk and exposed himself.
Job lost everything and questioned God.
Rahab was a prostitute.
And those are only the big names we know about.
But God commended them for their faith even in spite of their sinful, human tendencies. And look at all the things they and their predecessors accomplished by faith:
Pleased God (vs.5)
Obeyed and went unknown places (vs.8)
Worshiped in weakness (vs.21)
Weren’t afraid of a king’s edict or anger (vs.23 & 27)
Did something that seemed foolish, but saved their lives (vs.28)