Beauty in the Unknown - Wk 4

WORD

Earlier this year I was on a bus working my way towards the Central Business District of Nairobi, Kenya. I was headed to the Kenyan Immigration Office. For the entirety of that morning I had been completely racked with anxiety and stress (for those old school WWE fans think Lex Luger’s “Torture Rack” but in your stomach). My Kenyan work permit had been previously approved but only if I pay within 30 days of said approval.

I did indeed pay online within those 30 days but the day that I was actually dropping off the physical receipt was 35 days after the approval (why I couldn’t drop them off earlier is another story all together). Meaning, if the Kenyan immigration services wanted, they could give me major issues and even revoke my work permit. My ability to stay and serve as a missionary in Kenya long-term was hanging in the balance.

At some point on this anxiety-ridden bus ride I had a revelation. It was an epiphany that forced me to come to a difficult and uncomfortable realization. The question that sunk into the depths of my mind that led to this enlightenment was this: I LOVE going on adventures and seeking the unknown as I travel around Africa - I actually thrive on it and even go out of my way to create “exciting” scenarios that my wife doesn’t fully appreciate or always approve of (like arranging to stay at the homes of pastors in other African countries that I’ve never met and no one else that I know can vouch for them) - so why am I struggling with this?

I don’t know if I’m an adrenaline junky or not but whenever there’s an opportunity to do something crazy I definitely want in! For instance, literally one week before this whole work permit thing occurred I had conquered the third highest bungee jump in the world. I jumped off a bridge that was 216 meters (approx. 710 feet) above the ground and I did so without breaking a sweat and with barely an elevated heartbeat. I absolutely loved every second of it!

Yet, here I was worrying myself into an early grave because the receipt for my work permit is 5 days late? That stark contrast is what brought about the realization that it seems I am comfortable trusting my Maker with the unknowns of good health, long life, functional physical and cognitive abilities, and the like but I struggle to trust God with MY life. I don’t like unknowns in the areas of my plans, my vocational future, my family, etc. I can trust when it comes to my physical being and eternity but not with the life I desire to live while I’m here.

When it comes to a planned adventure I find it easy let go and I completely enjoy the ride. The whole fun part of an adventure IS the unknown. The excitement comes from not being sure what will happen next or who I’ll meet or what new kind of food I’ll eat or what beautiful landscape I’ll get to see. It’s in these unknown and unplanned for moments that memories are made and stories are told.

But, when it comes to life I hold on tightly trying to control even those things I know that I cannot control. That fateful morning on the crowded bus I realized for the first time that I don’t view life as an adventure. Instead I view life as something to be carefully planned out in order to eliminate unknowns. I view life as something that must have adventurous unknowns planned in to but I hadn’t been living as if life itself WAS the adventure.

As Peter Pan (played by the late Robin Williams) in the cult classic “Hook” once said, “To live… to live would be an awfully big adventure.” I want to live fully, absent of fear and worry, in the beautiful and continuous unknown that is “life.” How about you?

MEAL

My favorite meal is, and always will be, Kraft macaroni and cheese. There’s just nothing quite like the magnificent contents of that Blue Box. In relation to this blog, when it comes to Kraft mac and cheese there are ZERO unknown involved. It’s basic, simple, repeatable, and as safe as you can get.

The meal that connects to this blog on the adventurous side of the “unknown” spectrum is Pepe Soup. This West African delicacy (translated into American English as “Pepper Soup”) Is just that – a soup of spicy hot peppers and meat. This thing packs enough punch to wake the dead. You always know it will be hot but you never know if it will be “burn your face off hot” or the more bland version of “can’t stop your nose from running” hot.

On top of that, you’re always guessing which meats (yes, “meats” plural) will come in your Pepe Soup. It’s NEVER just one kind of meat but always a wide array. You might get any combination of crabs (you eat them shell and all), pigs feet, fish (bones and all), goat, beef, prawns, and cow and/or goat skin (without the hair). I’m not sure any meal I’ve ever eaten has as any possible variations as this one.

MUSIC

The song I would connect to this is “The Dance” by Garth Brooks because I don’t think any of us would want to know how this life ends, even if we could avoid the pain and unknown. It’s in the dance of life that we truly live.

PRAYER

Father, you are the author of adventure. Help me to see the beauty in the unknowns of my normal and boring day. May I relish the unexpected interruptions, the annoyances, and the uncertainties before me - knowing that this is how memories are made and real joy is found.

TIME

Don’t plan out every minute of your day tomorrow. Take a new way home from work. Take your partner out for an unexpected dinner date. Laugh at your mistakes. Sneak some unknown into your world and when something unexpected comes don’t retract but embrace the adventure ahead.

Matt Millar

https://untappedpotenial.wordpress.com/

Beauty in the Unknown - Wk 3

Word

As I heard the words come out of the neurologist’s mouth, my brain was unable to process them. My wife Cassia was sitting next to me. We live in Elgin, IL,  but we had driven into Chicago to meet with a neurologist who would tell us the results of an MRI for our son, Elan, who was five months old. All of this started the day after Elan was born, when he failed his in-hospital hearing test. We wrote it off as a fluke because the test had been interrupted so many times. But after two more failed hearing tests, we knew something was wrong. We hoped it was simply fluid buildup in his ears that never drained. But then Elan began missing other developmental milestones. He didn’t seem to react to our voices. He didn’t make eye contact with us. He wasn’t reaching for objects in front of him, or even tracking things that would move across his field of vision. Then the soft spot on his skull closed, and our pediatrician ordered an MRI. Soon we got the call that the neurologist was ready to meet with us.

We sat in her office for an hour with her, looking at Elan’s brain imaging as she explained what was on the screen. There was so much empty space where brain should be. Whatever we were looking at, we knew it wasn’t good. At the end, she looked at Cassia and I and asked, “So, do you have any questions for me?” Even after an hour of explaining, my biggest questions still had not been answered. After a moment, I cleared my throat and asked, “Doctor, will Elan ever be able to hear or see?” She looked at Cassia, and then back at me. “Probably not,” she said. Her words seemed to hang there in the air, not really landing anywhere. More questions rushed out of my mouth. “What will his cognitive abilities be? Will he be able to interact with us? What does Elan’s future look like?” She paused to consider the questions. Finally she replied, “I don’t know.”

I have heard those three words a lot in the last two months since that appointment. Elan has been diagnosed with epilepsy. Will seizures be a regular part of his life? I don’t know. His is currently on three different seizure medications. How long will these meds work? I don’t know. A recent bout of seizures compromised his swallow ability, requiring him to be put on a NG tube to eat. Will he regain his swallow ability, or will he be tube fed for the rest of his life? I don’t know. Will he ever know my face? Will he ever hear my voice? Will he ever be able to walk? Or talk? Or sing? How will he experience beauty in this world? I don’t know.

And yet, in the midst of all this unknown, there is beauty. There is beauty in recognizing the image of God in a boy who experiences life so differently. There is beauty in the way the community of Jesus has surrounded our family to help us bear burdens we would not be able to bear ourselves. There is beauty in my brand new appreciation for the episodes in the Gospels where Jesus makes the deaf and mute speak, makes the blind see, makes the epileptic cured, and makes the lame walk. There is beauty in knowing that God is fully able to reveal himself to Elan, despite Elan’s limitations.

We don’t know what the next few decades hold. But we do know how this story ends. It ends with heaven invading earth. With resurrection. With healing. With restoration, justice, and unity of all things. The end of the story is beautiful. And even between now and the end of the story, there is beauty - beauty in the glimpses of his kingdom coming, and, in the midst of the unknown, beauty in walking with the God who has made himself known to us.

Music

“So Will I” by Hillsong.

“God of Your promise

You don’t speak in vain

No syllable empty or void

For once You have spoken

All nature and science

Follow the sound of Your voice”

Meal

White bean chicken chili - a delicious accident. The meal is a result of following a recipe on one page and accidentally finishing with a different recipe on a different page. Recipe here.

Prayer

Father, I do not know what tomorrow holds. But I know the One who holds tomorrow. Help me to trust when I cannot see. Help me to walk by faith, and not by sight.

Time

Pastor and author Tim Keller has said, “To be loved but not known is comforting but superficial. To be known and not loved is our greatest fear. But to be fully known and truly loved is, well, a lot like being loved by God.” Jesus came so that we might experience being both known and loved at the same time. This week, take a look at the people around you. Who feels like no one really knows them? Who feels like they are unknown, and thus unloved? Consider the opportunity you have to be intentional and vulnerable with these people this week. As you carry Christ in you, may you yourself be the beauty in the midst of the unknown.

Contact: shumate.cory@gmail.com /  @coryshumate

Beauty in the Unknown - Wk 2

Word

I'm staring at an unfinished canvas in my room. What do you need? The vaporous background looks like a portrait swallowed in smoke, and the anticipation of peering behind the veil almost seems better than whatever might even be revealed.

I'm no artist— an understatement— yet something compelled me to pick up an armful of canvases and paints last week. It's likely connected to the dreams I've been having lately: the ones where I seem to be skimming across bronze, slate, and black pools of paint - swept up on crests of colored waves that are sometimes solid enough to stand on, and other times flood over me like a tsunami. Their force pushes my body along, lifting me and ferrying me down through hues of vibrant seas. The paint never binds to me, and yet I can't seem to move beyond it.

These visions of untethered buoyancy began around the same time I found myself embarking on an uncharted course. Last summer, what began as a quiet evening in a prayer labyrinth somehow unfolded into a current that disrupted the known and controllable elements in my life— and I've been caught in the undertow ever since. In short, it meant uprooting and moving 2,000 miles westward— away from dear friends, a stable job, a beloved church, and surrendering the scraps of my own badly-drawn plans.

Now I am swimming in upheaval and unknowns - yet I have found so much new peace in surrendering the relics of my stability to God in order to find Him. It hasn't fulfilled my expectations of what I imagined was ahead; it ended up demolishing them entirely, replacing them with what I didn't even know I needed.

For instance: how much displacement has removed what had given me a sense of security. Yet, within the demolition of those walls, I also found it was removing a protective layer that I unwittingly constructed to keep well-hidden wounds from exposure. I had relied on it to keep areas of my heart from experiencing new harm, but it also prevented it from being tended to and made whole. I had no idea there were wounds requiring attention until the bulk of my armor was removed. The process healing has already begun.

It's not easy to relinquish a desire for safety when it's asked of us. Not having a barrier between us and the wild elements of the unknown introduces a set of anxious questions: Can I survive this? If I give up what belongs to me right now, will my hands ever get to hold anything good enough ever again?  Will I ever be able to find our way back home?

Despite the danger, something deep within us leaps with prospect of being changed by God. Something within us desires to trust and follow the way to a Creator who first revealed himself to Israel not in an easily seen form, but cloaked in hints of clouds and flame. They weren't given certainty ahead of their journey, but in the process of following, their identity and purpose was formed. Allowing ourselves to be shepherded into the unknown leads us to abiding close to heart of God. Abraham leaves his old name to find a new one— and with it a new identity. Moses, who can't see beyond his limitations in word and speech, becomes God's megaphone to his people. Scripture recalls many others— Gideon, Ruth, Esther, Paul— who listened, threw away predictive scripts, and found themselves beautifully transformed by what they embraced instead.

My eyes return to my canvas. Perhaps if I can navigate the fog beyond my brushes, I can hold fast and trust the mystery I'm being led through is for my benefit, not befuddlement. Or maybe I can find that the colors found in dreams aren't meant to impart some authoritative form of meaning, but are waves of beauty to enjoy and delight in. Maybe this leads to an Artist, who can see beyond what's been committed to canvas— patiently adding little by little to an intricate work— seeing it, and saying that it is good, very good.

I let the mystery dry before adding a new layer.

Meal

Amidst change and transition, I have found much comfort in the stability of a morning routine. I like to wake early and prepare a simple breakfast to accompany a time of quiet reflection, Scripture, and centering prayer.

What usually fills my plate and cup:

3 sunny-side-up eggs with a dash of tabasco sauce

1 smashed avocado with pepper

2 slices of applewood smoked bacon

A pour-over of freshly roasted Zambian coffee

Music

Kim Janssen - Cousins

Prayer

Good Father, open our hands to release what we hold onto so tightly for security. Let us be unafraid to dismantle what keeps us letting your love abide in our hearts. Remind us that to lose our tightly-held lives for your sake is to gain it fully. Let be in love with Your mystery, and not see it as something to solve. Lead us and change us by the power of your Spirit and in the name of your Son.

Time

Leave the distractions of idle time and go for a lengthy walk. Flirt with boredom— no phones allowed. Where do your thoughts land? What occupies your mind? Take note of the emerging themes. Do you find yourself anxious about anything? Instead of running from it, run into it. Cross-examine your discomfort. What's the question behind the question? Where are the wanderings of your heart and mind leading?

Contact

Christopher Maier  — christopherwrites.com // christopher.b.maier@gmail.com

Beauty in the Unknown - Wk 1

Word:

To be honest… I don’t know.

Those words are scary to admit. There’s that saying that what we don’t know can’t hurt us, but wouldn’t you rather just know? I would! Whether it’s how my boss feels about my performance at work, why my friend is busy tonight, where my keys are, or what’s going to happen next on my favorite TV show, I want answers. And when it comes to more significant things like my future, I’ll do whatever I can to plan ahead and avoid the unknown.

Recently, that’s been impossible for me. These days, I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know what I want. I don’t know where God and I are heading. I’m stuck in this in-between world, certain change is coming around the corner, but I’m not at all sure what that change will look like.

It’s like I’m on a mountain ridge in heavy fog. I want to move forward and take the next step but I can’t see where I’ll be when I do. Any action seems risky. The rocks under my feet are not as stable as I wish they were. The view around me not as clear as I’d hoped.

At times like this, when I’m living in the unknown, I find I can easily get paralyzed. Instead of trusting that God has a good plan, I’m tempted to stubbornly sit down and wait for the fog to lift. Getting overwhelmed by not knowing all the details can make me lose sight of what I do know.

When I actually think about it, even in the unclear circumstances I face in life, I have already been given all the clarity I need. I’m not on the mountain alone; I have an expert guide with me who doesn’t merely know the path, but controls even the fog on our journey. I know that He is good. That He loves me. That He promises He has the best plan for me, one of hope and future.

I know these things because He’s told me and because He’s proven over and over again that they’re true. We’ve been together on mountain ridges before and it’s been worth stepping out in faith every single time.

So, to be honest… I don’t know.

Lately, when people have asked me what I’m going to do next, or where I’m going in the future, that’s my answer. It’s scary, but I’m still moving forward and following God in faith. The beauty of the unknown is that it pushes me to cling to what I do know.

Meal:

When I’m in the midst of a lot of unknowns, I am grateful for the things I do know. One of those things is this healthy meal that makes me smile every time I eat it, especially when I cook and eat it with friends.

https://sallysbakingaddiction.com/2016/02/22/peanut-chicken-zucchini-noodles/

Music:

I’ve been playing this song on repeat recently as a needed reminder of what I do know. I’m so grateful to be able to hold onto these truths while on the mountain ridge.

“This We Know” by Vertical Worship

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sq233lM3k9w

Prayer:

You Who Knows Everything,

I admit that I often don’t know what I wish I knew. Thank you God that while I face the unknown, you are with me and can see clearly when I can’t. Your promises keep me moving forward and your plan gives me hope. Help me to step out in bold faith even in the fog. Guide me and give me wisdom.

Amen.

Time:

One thing I’ve found helpful recently is taking time with a candle, a warm drink, and a notebook to jot down some of the truths I know and how I’ve already seen God guide me through unknowns in the past. Dwelling on what I know somehow puts what I don’t know into perspective and is good motivation to expect God to lead me down the best paths. I’ve also talked about those things with others. Getting to share about how I’ve witnessed God at work in my life is always time well spent and hearing about what God is doing in the lives of those around me is super encouraging when facing unknowns.

Contact: @amerson6 on Instagram