“I tell you the truth, whoever hears my word and believes him who sent me has eternal life and will not be condemned; he has crossed over from death to life.”

-Jesus

A couple of years ago I fell on my knees with my face in the cool grass and my arms stretched out in front of me, in the middle of a meadow in Northwestern Spain. I was hiking a portion of El Camino de Santiago, a 900 km pilgrimage stretching from the border of France to the Atlantic at Finisterre, Galicia.

I suppose that my posture at that time came at the culmination of a strong and burning desire for new depths with Jesus along with the revelation that the distances I had traversed in my spiritual journey up to that point had been, in many ways, trodden selfishly and without any real direction.

There I was in the middle of nowhere, alone, prostrate and faced with the truth of my life: How small am I? How like a flower of the field? How fading and finite?

There in the meadow I recognized it down to the core of my being, the visceral beating of eternity’s pulse. How different life could be if I would always hear it. Life’s “tough calls” would cower in light of this new grasp of reality; the acknowledgment that I am but a pilgrim crossing this time and this space in the blink of eternity’s eye.

I had chosen, and many days continue to choose, a life of worry and want, but I felt in that meadow in the hills an opportunity, maybe even an invitation to find my bearings, my North, in loving Jesus, adoring him and knowing in a more intimate way how wide and long and deep and high His love is for me. It was a good day in the meadow. It was an answer to my heart’s cry and the only compass this pilgrim ever really needed.

How much time had been wasted in years past wondering why faith seemed more like make-believe and eternity, a last wish of the dying?

My moment in the meadow seems a lifetime away, but the daily pilgrimage deeper into the heart of the Lord remains a reality shattering and often times painful crossing. What have I to lose beside myself?

Jesus gave us an awesome, bold reality check when he spoke these words:

“If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will save it. What good is it for a man to gain the whole world and yet lose or forfeit his very self?”

“deny himself”

How does that one little phrase translate in this day and age? I must deny myself.

It’s strange, I’d never thought of myself as a person of indulgent disposition, but as I’ve rummaged through my mind of memories and still-frames, I have compiled this mental collage of unfinished, uncared for, pathetic attempts at making my life more bearable and even meaningful. My friends have accused me of self-deprecation and even false humility but I don’t think I’m guilty of either. I suppose it’s just shocking to come to the realization that 26 years after innocently inviting Jesus into my heart I have done little more than pursue myself. I didn’t even know that I had been invited into His heart.

Twenty-six years of Sunday school, youth group, mission trips, volunteering in Romanian orphanages, working with troubled kids, becoming a husband and father, a youth pastor and a church-planter in Spain; I had never known what it was to deny myself. I was self-employed in the truest sense.

I’m not saying that I’ve never had pure intentions or that my Abba has never been pleased with what He saw in my heart. Of course He has. I have seen God’s hand in my life and have learned invaluable lessons from his gentle Spirit and from His word. Nevertheless, my life has followed a very predictable cyclical pattern that goes something like this: Desire brings passion….passion spurs on motivation…..motivation drives changes (usually big & dramatic)…….changes bring new things (experiences, languages, people, etc.)…new things get old……old things bring boredom…..boredom brings desire. Now, the time lapse for one complete cycle changes with the given experience, but the inevitability of the “next step” has not yet failed.

What is the opposite of “deny”? Is it to grant or to permit? Yes!! That is what I do. I permit myself. I give over to myself, and with all this “self-permitting” it’s no wonder I’ve had so much trouble with the last part of that verse, “follow me”. I have allowed my flesh to drag me around the globe in the name of Jesus and for the first time I think I understand what Jesus meant when He described the ones He “never knew”.

….and so, from somewhere on el Camino de Santiago to wherever I am in Virginia and beyond I will, as the apostle suggests, work out my salvation with fear and trembling.

Meditations

Lyrics by Matthew Hanlon
Music by Matthew Swain

Lead me down from my mind
To my heart where I’ll find

it’s not Mine that I see,

but Yours within me.

I want to walk with You Jesus
In the cool of the day.
I want to hear Your Spirit
Whisper on the wind.
I want to sit by Your fire,
Feel the warmth of Your eyes.
I want to know You deeper,
Like the bird knows the skies.

Creator of all things
Lover of my soul
Graceful and forgiving
With mercies yet untold.

Let my worship rest on You
As the grass in morning dew.
May the meditations of this heart

Be pleasing unto You.

The Evolution of Wandering

I was born far from here in a place that was not my home. I knew at a very young age that I could not stay there, and always there had been something very strong within me that did not want to.

I can't remember the day I set out from my birthplace, for it was long ago, but I do remember from very early on, the deepest sense of calling; some visceral compass guiding those first steps out from the land of familiarity.

Of course I was not the only one setting a course; deserting that distant country. Many, if not all, responded to the call that echoed from the inner depths.
At the start of my directionless venture I was never alone. We wanderers left in droves, as they had before us and continue to this day. It wasn't long however, before I became more and more isolated, as if by some strange evolution our concentrated beginnings had been diluted by time and the elements.

Alone I walked, ran, stumbled, recovered. Sometimes my path would cross another weary wanderer's and we might walk a stretch of road together for a time, but there was always some unshared dream that brought the fellowship to an end. Separate ways remained the best ways.

The days were long and the land was flat, seamless and endless. It would roll now and again but never beyond expectation - until, one of those interminable days brought me through some rolling hills I had never seen before. In the life of a wanderer it is not uncommon to cover the same ground time and again. Comfort lives in familiar places. These hills, these were different. They were round, as if swollen with the juice of expectation. There came a rush of emotion as I worked my way to the top of the roundest hill. Breathless, I began to survey what lay beyond. My heart stirred with life. Never in my travels had I seen a horizon with more promise. Beyond several more miles of prairie and plain lay a range of mountains stretching from North to South as far as the eye could see. Behind them the sun was beginning to set and at the same time ignite earth and sky in a blaze of color, the likes of which I had never before been witness.

I had heard that these mountains existed, but never imagined I'd see them for myself. Ideed, I never cared to see them. Now, now I had to see more. I had to get closer. It was, I believe,the first time that I was actually walking with a clear direction in mind; a goal in sight. Suddenly my wanderings had morphed into an exploration and they would soon evolve again. That compass I had vaguely sensed in my youth began to beat as if awakened from slumber. Like a bear in hibernation it had been lulled to sleep by the cold comfort of going nowhere and now in the Spring of new life reawakened by the warmth of the sun and the food of desire. That was the sense that I had. The Winter was passing and I was entering a new season; a new world.

I began my exploration by descending the hilltop that had shared it's vision with me. Down, down into the prairie, where I was scarcely able to glimpse the highest peaks of the range, I entered into the tall golden grass. I saw no trail before me, but I must confess I didn't look hard, as I could barely contain my excitement to begin the trek.

That night, alone under the big sky, moon and stars exposing my solitude, I lay beneath them wondering if they had ever beamed so brightly. This was real and I.....I was alive.

.....I am like an olive tree--green,

in the house of God;

I trust in the mercy

of God

forever and ever.

I will praise You

forever,

Because You have done it;

and in the presence of Your saints

I will wait

on Your name,

for it is good.

Psalm 52:8-9