What I Don't Know

"We act like we have to get it all figured out before we can make a difference; like we have to have achieved "perfect" observance before we can fulfill our life mission. We feel like we are given a short period of learning/training before life really begins, and if we don't get our lives straight soon, we will be wasting time. "

There's soooo much I don't know...things that seem like they should be basic and foundational. Things like our identity in relation to Israel, or to what extant we're supposed to keep the commandments, or how to keep Sabbath. Oral Torah, Karaitism, Noachide, Covenantalism, Dispensationalism, Two House, One House, One Law, Traditional, non-traditional, and dozen other labels and non-labels. I would love so much to know where I stand so that I can teach my family and teach others, but the truth is so often I don't know.

Sometimes I think I know. But there's always a hole, always a contradiction, always a difficulty. I've changed my mind many times in the last several years. I want to go into ministry--that's where my heart is at--but sometimes I'm afraid that what I teach today won't be what I believe tomorrow. Words have power and I'm responsible for what I put forward.

Sometimes I have to fall back to the few things I know:
Adonai is the Creator of the universe.
He is my Father and my King.
He created man in His own image, inscribing His signature on every human soul.
He has promised us the Hope of a future Sabbath rest--of freedom, restoration, healing, and redemption. A place to call home.

Sometimes I just have to admit I don't know.

What We Were Created For

I stare out at the audience, an army of eyes eagerly waiting for my message. I look down at my notes, the words carefully chosen for impact. I lift my head to the camera waiting for the signal. Waiting to speak as no teacher has spoken before. Ready to change the world. And yet...something feels off.

The audience dissolves, the dream fades and I find myself staring at my computer screen. Five new emails. One catches my eye.

The first thing I notice is a picture that can best be described as the burning bush if it were at the birth of Narnia--flames of magical color shooting forth in harmony with the song of Aslan. At the same time the place seems both homely and forbidden. Like a sort of sacred ground. And I can't help but wonder if I were invited by mistake.

Then there were the words. Only three of them. "Less of me." There were many more words in this place, all of them beautifully inscribed. But it was those three that continued to echo around my mind.

Humility is one of those traits that seems to continually elude me. I know it in my head, but I also love to put on a show. The lights come on to reveal a scene beyond imagination. The music runs through my head continually, rising and dropping with the story's tension. Like a conductor, I raise my arms; like a director, I command this universe of my own. That's what I see.

In Judaism, humility is said to be filling the space you have been given--no more, no less. Everyone has been allotted space in this world; each person's space unique.

When I imagine teaching, something always feels off. When people compliment me for knowing my Bible, I get uncomfortable. Like I am occupying a space in which I do not belong. It's different with my stories. I don't know why or if will always be that way. Maybe because it seems like less of a responsibility than teaching. Maybe because it is more personal. I don't really know. But when I write a story, I feel like that is my place to be the director, to command the song.

I look back up at the stage. That is not my space. Not now.

I look back to the Narnian tree. In wisps of fire, I see a story untold. I see raw imagination ready to be crafted into words. And I can't help but wonder, is this where I belong?

I May Never Be a Millionaire

Listening to a song called "Millionaire" by FFH and reflecting on life. The song is about all the things that people lift up as their highest goals--money, fame, beauty, adventure. As humans we seek the secret to finding "fulfillment" in life. We seek happiness. Acceptance. Attention. Love. Maybe some of us don't know quite what we're looking for, we just know there has got to be more to life. So we press on, reading books, talking with friends, seeking ever seeking the thing that will complete us.

I'm an idealist. I don't like the idea of just accepting that there is nothing I can do to find the perfect life. Emotionally, mentally, physically--it seems there must be some way bring every aspect of life into order. Some worldview or outlook on life that will allow me to find contentment in everything.

Especially when you've experienced those moments when everything seems just exactly right. There is no burning hunger, no aching pain. Only joy. And though you don't understand it, everything just makes sense. Then the moment fades. "Reality" sets in. Circumstances change. What you wished could last forever comes to an end.

And then you hear that you just need to look to God for fulfillment. The things of this world will satisfy you for a little while, but only God truly satisfies. Does that mean you feel fulfilled when your life is following after God? In my experience, no. I don't feel fulfilled. I don't feel like I've found the secret to happiness. I don't always feel comforted. I don't always feel close to God. Sometimes nothing makes sense. Sometimes the hunger burns. Sometimes the pain just doesn't go away.

There is a season to rejoice and a season to mourn.

There is a season to love and a season to hate.

There is a season to be inspired by the journey ahead and a season to simply pray your feet are taking you somewhere.

There is a season to run with all your might and a season to just fall into the hands of God.

Everything comes in its season until this earth passes away and we finally go home.

That's the hope. That's the promise.

What is the secret to a fulfilled life? There isn't one. You can spend your life pursuing it, but I don't think you'll find it. Then again, I don't have many years behind me yet--maybe you'll prove me wrong. But right now, where I'm at right now in this moment--I believe the only thing we can do is to be there for each other. The good times and the bad times will both come. Knowing that someone is thinking of you, praying for you means a lot. And when you are a friend to someone else, you change their world.

I may never be a millionaire, may never breathe the mountain air. I may never find a happiness that stays or the answers to all my questions. I may never find the perfect job, the perfect community, or the perfect way of living. But I'll be the light of the world. When darkness falls and your candle is dim, I'll shine my light into your life, so that maybe...just maybe you might find a little more hope for today. And when your light burns bright, I will rejoice along with you so that your fire may burn all the brighter.