Element of Peace

The left footprint on display in the fresh-turned soil bore no resemblance to its counterpart. My right foot featured a really high arch while the left one lacked an arch at all. This one’s imprint carried the appearance of a flat board.

Thus, my bare feet had left a trail of odd alternating marks as I leapt to keep pace with my daddy’s longer strides across the plowed furrows.

Yes, the hardship of poliomyelitis from a prior time had left permanent marks. Yet, here I was curiously limping. . . and frolicking.

We don’t find people who are prone to relish suffering. I would certainly not be counted among them. Words like hardship or adversity or pain stir in many of us a cringe of resistance and angst.

Still, visiting the Bible’s pages we routinely find triumph mingled with trial.  Pleasure and pain show up as near neighbors. Happiness keeping company with hardship.

We muse over these strangely-matched companions. Especially so in reflective seasons like Holy Week, the period of Jesus’ (and history’s) darkest hours leading to his awful crucifixion.

How perplexing seems the phrase of the New Testament writer, “looking to Jesus who, for the joy that was set before him, endured the cross*

Enduring flogging and a torturous public execution with its attending shame, Christ’s suffering comes to us as ‘hardship’ utterly redefined.

So, we revisit our prayer – “accepting hardship as a pathway to peace”.

The apprentice of Jesus comes to actually affirm the beauty of suffering when endured in a grace lavishly supplied. Holding the master’s image in view the disciple settles into an element of peace words fail to capture. The difference is found through the example and presence of the resurrected, sacrificial coach.

Christ’s disciples make up that unusual sampling of humans who reconcile the paradox – hardship, an indispensable part of the good life.

He was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace*

©2023 Jerry Lout                                                                   *Hebrews 12:2      *Isaiah 53:5

Tending Soil

“Take my life and let it be ever, only, all for Thee”, pleads the hymn writer. The cry pulses with yearning, hunger. He hungers to be fully owned by One who is wiser and more capable in the great undertaking. Of fashioning the apprentice to a pure reflection of Jesus. Ever only all for Thee.

Every young farm kid knows the sensation of freshly-plowed earth, of feeling its cool softness at the entry of an eager pair of bare feet. What delight – shoeless and sockless  – toes and heel pushing themselves into rich soil on an early Summer day.

For me, the simple action sparked a magic “yippee!” moment. Following the plow blade’s piercing work, the Alfalfa field got nicely smoothed out by a clunky tractor-drawn implement called a harrow. If, in these steps of sowing-prep the soil itself could speak, it might have bellowed out a loud objection, “Stop this, Stop, OK?!”

Hardship.

“Living one day at a time, enjoying one moment at a time, accepting hardship as a pathway to peace”.

As a Christ-follower, I might generally offer up those first couple of Serenity Prayer lines with little complaint. The last seven words? Not so much.

Another barefoot memory I relish is a little self-imposed goal set while trailing my daddy across fresh-turned soil.  While it falls short of Olympic Trial standards, my goal was marked by two firm rules. (1) Keep up with my daddy’s long strides and, (2) With every leap forward, plant my small foot at the center of his large boot print. Succeeding at the two goals – for even a short while – left me a little goofy and giddy.

While human life can and does reflect seasons of enjoying each moment at a time, we are creatures of paradox. Up seems down. Down seems up. Healthy growth for the believer in doing life well calls for episodes of hardship.

These seasons come our way unavoidable, inescapable. And, in some cases, fiercely painful. Yet, in Christ, there is held before us a bedrock assurance. Goodness and flourishing will meet the pilgrim in good time. If not now, at the other side.

©2023 Jerry Lout

Yield Signs

Jesus knows us in closeness. It’s something akin to what we witness in those enduring marriages we most admire. The envy of-the-world ones.

An aged couple, having grown deeper and deeper into oneness with each other over time present a heartwarming picture. It gives substance to a special word of endearment.  Companionship. While other couples speak sorrowfully of having “grown apart”, our two love birds only solidify their union, growing fused as one over their long marital journey. Why is this?

It is not because the two have been spared struggles and hardships. Indeed, intense pain and even trauma may mark such a couple’s history together. After all, what long-term marriage has not weathered some harsh, distressing storms?

Yet, in spite of everything, a mystery seems to be in play. Where deepening, loving companionship ends up actually flourishing – not just surviving. When broad-sided by overwhelming hardship, a surprising number of devoted couples emerge the other side with their marriage not only intact, but healthier than ever!

Marriage – especially Christ-focused marriage – illustrates well (though imperfectly) the beauty of the Christian life. Such a life grows and flourishes in close fellowship with Jesus, issuing from his own tested and proven love.

Every earnest bride who ever pledged “in sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer, for better, for worse” made the discovery along the way that vows are made for testing.

Likewise, the broad-smiling groom at the altar offering his pledge to love, cherish, protect. . . soon discovers he has entered a long and challenging learning curve.

Adapt – adjust – accommodate.

Married-life language shouts change. The words are marked by tangible elements of sacrifice. They strike at the heart of a wonderful and frightening movement toward growth – the yielding up or adapting of personal will.

And so it is for the Lord’s beloved ones – the love-smitten, fresh-launched followers of Christ. Their pledge is simple, yet sacrificial. Not shallow, not flippant. The pledge is weighty, and glorious. An all-out love-fueled – and practiced – surrender,

“Your will be done”.

©2023 Jerry Lout