I can't feel at home.

I've shared my struggle with my current situation, career and life. I don't like where I am. I want it to be different. It's uncomfortable. It's discouraging. It's just not fun. In this place, though, I'll still tell you I'm doing OK. The Lord meets my true needs. I'm blessed with a wonderful wife of nearly 17 years, great friends and a special church. I've got a lot to be thankful for, and I am thankful. Yet, there are still things I wish were different. I don't like this place and I think to myself, "life was supposed to be different. I'm not supposed to be here."

Then I had a short chat with an older, wiser friend who reminded me of something I often forget. My "here" is wrong. The "here" I'm not happy with is not my present circumstances, but this fallen, sinful world. I've been focusing on the the wrong "here." We weren't made for this place. It's simple yet profound. This world and it's trouble continually remind us that we were made for someplace different. A life in unbroken relationship with the Lord and with others.

The old hymn was spot on... this world is not our home, we're just passing through. We were made for a different place and none of us will find complete contentment and peace until we get there. I think we're supposed to be uncomfortable in this world. It makes us long for home and dependent on the only source of contentment and peace that matters. Until we cross over Jordon, we're going to feel a bit out of sorts. Now I understand the closing line of that old song, "I can't feel at home in the world anymore."

I can't feel at home here. I never will. And that's OK.

Back to Egypt.

I don't like where I am right now. I'm uncertain and discouraged about my career and dreams. I just had my one year anniversary in a job I don't enjoy. My career trajectory stalled, if not crashed, a year ago. I'm back doing the same kind of work I was doing 6 years ago, and for less money than back then. The career progress of the last few years was wiped out. I'm not sure why the Lord has me here. I know it's a journey, but I want to know the direction and the goal. I'd just like to go back to better times.


And then I came across Number 14:3-4. It's a curious passage. "Why is the Lord bringing us into this land, to fall by the sword? Our wives and our little ones will become a prey. Would it not be better for us to go back to Egypt?” And they said to one another, “Let us choose a leader and go back to Egypt” (ESV).


We read that today, knowing the end of the story, and wonder how they could be so foolish and short-sighted. The Israelites could only see the pain where the Lord had them, and not the plan He was working. Not only was He was leading them to the Promised Land, but was calling them to be His people. It was a gracious gift but they wanted to throw it all away and go back to slavery. They wanted the certainty of the daily routine. Even if that was a return to oppression.


But aren't we that way too?


We can only see the pain and uncertainty of right now. We know the Lord has a plan for us but we don't know what it is. We enter a time of transition and the future is uncertain; we are wandering. We want out of the desert even if it means not going where the Lord is leading us. We want the familiar. Going back to the known routine can make slavery look better than being free. But the Lord leads and He's certain of our destination.


I don't like where I am right now. But that's OK, I don't need to. It's not the end of the story. I'll tell you more next time.

Understanding is overrated.

Something I've noticed in myself and others is our need to figure out what the Lord is doing in all aspects of our lives. On the surface it seems we're very spiritual people who are seeking the Lord's guidance in all we do. But in reality, we're not. We're self-absorbed. Do we really need to question God's purpose in every aspect of life? I'm not saying we shouldn't ask the Lord to lead our lives into His purposes, but I think we can over do it.


There is a danger to spiritualizing everything that's happening to us. The problem is we're making everything about us. We begin to crave understanding and then seek it in every instance. When it comes down to it, we're not making it about God's will but our comprehension of it. We're predicating His work on our understanding.


In my last post I wrote, "Jesus told us, 'do not worry about tomorrow'." The context of that is that we don't have to worry, He's got it. Our basic needs? He'll take care of it. Our relationships? He's in them. Career? It's mapped out. Life? Taken care of, here and for eternity. In everything that happens, He's with us.


Why do we ask "what" and "why" so much when we already know the true answer. We belong to the Father. We are loved more than we can express. We are fellow heirs with Christ. Why do we wonder what He's doing when what He's doing is drawing us closer to Him. In our current circumstances, whether good or bad, He's calls us.


We don't need to understand. We just need Him.

Just getting by.

Wow. I just realized my last post was almost 2 months ago. March was difficult. I wasn't thinking about the future and just tried to get through each day. It was a slog in the mud. In April I felt empty. My prayers were the same ever day. I just asked for strength to deal with the now. I didn't write. My thoughts were empty. But it wasn't all bad. I got through it. Each day, I was able to handle the challenges and make it to the next. Isn't that what we're promised, that the Lord will be with us each day and provide what we need. There's a reason Jesus told us, "do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." Reading that, It seems foolish to complain that I'm just getting by one day at a time.

If He's with me, that's enough.

I believe, yet I doubt.

My posts have been a bit irregular the last couple weeks. I'm sorry, I really want to post 4-5 times a week. I've written and rewritten this post about dealing with doubt a dozen times. It's been hard to finish. I'm in the middle of a season of doubt about myself, my vocation and even my worth. I know the Lord loves me, values me and counts me as His son. But in weeks like this, I still wonder.

During hard times, it's natural to wonder what God is doing and where He is. Deep in my soul I know he loves me, but sometimes it seems He's far away. Doubt is not uncommon to the Lord's people, take Psalm 102 for instance. The Psalmists asks why the Lord is hiding His face while he suffers. But it's OK to have doubt and questions and those feelings are normal. Thank God, He's big enough to handle them. It's not like the Lord's up there thinking, "Oh no, Kendall's doubting my plan. I hope I've got it all worked out... not sure where this thing's going." Nope. He's got it figured. He's told me so.

Last Sunday we sang the old hymn "Tis so Sweet to Trust in Jesus." I love the chorus, "Jesus, Jesus, how I trust Him... Oh, for grace to trust Him more!" It reminds me of the father who begged Jesus to heal his son and cried out, "I believe; help my unbelief!" I really get that. I believe my Father loves me and is working a plan for my life. I know He has not abandoned me in my dark times. I don't doubt He's with me, but I still have doubts.

Oh, for grace to trust Him more.

Me vs. God

Last post I mentioned I'm not happy where I'm at in my career and thought I'd be at a different place right now. I've got problems. But it's not my circumstances that are problems, it's my attitude. I'm making it all about me, about what I want and when I want it. When it comes down to it, I'm a selfish child. Where did I get the idea that my life is about me? It's not new, the problem goes back to the beginning and we're all believing the original lie. Does God really know what's best for us?

It would be nice if the Lord gave us trust and patience easily, but those characteristics only increase as we're put to the test. Growth never occurs without difficulty. It's in the midst of the storm that I realize I'm helpless to guide my life. Only when I'm honest in my pain do I understand that my life is not mine. Suffering hurts and it shows me I'm not in control. We hurt when things don't go they way we thought they should. There's the problem. I have an idea how I want my life to be and my Father has another. Guess who's gonna win that tug-of-war?

It's a hard lesson. You're life if not about you. You can't learn that quickly and you'll need continual refresher courses. I get those lessons all the time. The Lord constantly pulls me back and focuses me on what He's doing. In my storms I see Him more clearly. His plan for my life is for my good, but it's primarily for His glory.

My life isn't about me... it's all about Him.

There is no quick and easy fix.

I hope I didn't give you the wrong impression in the last post. I don't have the suffering thing figured out. Not even close. Honestly, I hate it. Right now is a tough time. I'm impatient, selfish and questioning God. I wish it would just get better. But I don't know how to flip a switch and make suffering go away. I wish it were that easy. I can't tell you how to fix everything that is broken in your life. There is no quick fix to whatever your suffering through.

I can't tell you how to fix your problems because I'm useless to fix mine. Right now I'm walking through a tough time in my career. I doubt my abilities and worth. I feel like I've failed. Things were supposed to be different. I don't think I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing, but I don't see any options. I'm having a hard time trusting the Lord with my vocation. I ready for this time to end.

There's a lot about suffering that I still don't understand, but I've learned some things. I'm certain of this... you are not alone in your pain. Your Father has not abandoned you. Sometimes you don't hear His voice or see His hand working. But He's there and has never stopped loving you. Even on my worst days, I trust my Father completely. I've walked through many dark valleys and He's never abandoned me. If you're hurting now, please know the Lord is with you.

You are not alone.