What Matters Most
musings on the mundane and magnificent from a Christian perspective
Italy awaits me. Or so I think. In my family, we’ve been talking about a big overseas girls’ trip for years now; just my mom, my sister, my niece, and me. We haven’t had a clear destination or timeframe in mind, just the desire to travel and make memories together. But now, my sister wants to run in the Rome marathon in 2024, and my mom wants to show the sights in Italy to my niece and me, since we’ve never been there. So, while this idea is in seed form now, it may take root and become reality. In just two years, the women in my family may invade Italy.
I’m picturing pizza at its finest, window shopping, tossing coins in fountains. I’m picturing wandering through vineyards and sampling what they produce. I’m picturing warm sunlight over Tuscan hills, a good evening meal after a full day of exploring.
I’m sure this is nowhere near what the Apostle Paul pictured when he looked forward to going to Italy. Regardless of what he envisioned, it seems Rome was never far from his thoughts.
- “I long to see you.” Romans 1:11 NASB
- “I am so eager to preach the gospel also to you who are at Rome.” Romans 1:15 NIV
- “I have been longing for many years to see you.” Romans 15:23 NIV
- “I must also see Rome.” Acts 19:21 NET
Throughout Paul’s ministry, Rome loomed large. Wherever he went, whatever he did, he seemed to know Rome was ahead. And he did make it there, eventually. He made it there unhindered.
Unhindered.
This is the very last word in the book of Acts (NASB translation), and it perfectly sums up Paul’s state and the state of the Gospel after everything that happened in the preceding 28 chapters.
After all the attempts to silence the Gospel; after all the detours and delays; after beatings, imprisonment, shipwreck – through it all, Paul arrived at his destination: Rome. He was a little worse for wear, but he was unhindered. And the message of life and salvation in Jesus’ name continued to spread throughout that region – unhindered.
He was unhindered because he remained obedient to the Lord, stayed focused on Him and not the circumstances surrounding him, and trusted the Lord regardless. He knew God could do anything, use anything, accomplish anything. He knew God would bring him to Rome, and he did.
His faith was unhindered.
And the Gospel was unhindered. Nothing could stop it! The message of the resurrection of Jesus and the hope and life found in Him spread literally everywhere Paul went. People were saved, the church was strengthened, and the kingdom of God advanced – unhindered.
There is an important lesson for us here, something we see clearly throughout all of Pauls’ missionary journeys, through all the miles he clocked. It’s the lesson of looking at the big picture and not hyper fixating on one small scene, even though this is easy to do.
God can use what seems like a detour to bring us right where we need to be. Paul knew God wanted him to go to Rome, so he didn’t worry about all the stops and starts along the way. He trusted God to protect him and to bring him to the right place at the right time.
And he opened himself up to opportunities along the way – everywhere he went, he ministered. In a prison cell, in the Areopagus, in city after city, onboard a ship, on the island where they shipwrecked – all along the way to Rome, he ministered to those around him.
He didn’t discount those opportunities just because they weren’t at his final destination. He didn’t belittle his circumstances just because they weren’t ideal. He didn’t write off the possibility that God could move – even in circumstances such as his.
He was faithful where he was while he was on the way to where he was going.
So, what’s your Rome? What’s the one thing you desire from God? Your overarching goal, your focus, the thing you see clearly in your mind but not yet in reality.
It’s good to have a Rome. We should all have a Rome, a direction we’ve received from the Lord, plans and desires and goals that we’ve surrendered to the Lord and are pursuing in Him, with Him.
Rome is a good thing as long as we don’t rush the journey to get there. We must be careful not to be so focused on getting to what’s ahead that we miss what God has for us along the way. We need not be so consumed with seeing the Coliseum, the museums, the history, and the hills that we neglect to see the beauty in front of us right now.
God has people for us to impact, lessons to learn, growth to gain now. And all this will only serve to prepare us for when we do get to our Rome.
Remember the big picture. Rome is just one stop in life’s journey; God has many places to take us. And regardless of the backdrop of each season of life, God can accomplish something good in it, and He can bring us to the next destination on time even when it seems like we’re miles away.
So, let’s savor each season, keeping our eyes open to the opportunities around us, all while we work towards Rome. Let’s take a mental snapshot of each phase of life, internalizing the lessons learned, and adding new postcards to the collection as we go. And as we do, the big picture of our lives will become clearer and clearer, lovelier with each passing year, as we move forward – unhindered.
And when we finally make it to our Rome, we will be ready to receive all that awaits us there because we’ve been faithful along the way. I believe Rome will be breathtakingly beautiful – and that’s worth waiting for.
I’ll see you there. Ciao!
Lord, I give You:
- the amount of time I have today,
- the amount of things I have to do,
- and the amount of energy in my body.
Somehow, I’m not sure the math checks out, but I choose to trust You anyway. I choose to remember what You promised in Your Word:
“We have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us.”
2 Corinthians 4:7 NIV
I have an all-surpassing power in me. It surpasses weariness, temptation, struggles, limitations. It surpasses everything that would hinder me as I live in pursuit of God and His purposes for me.
This is a power nothing can diminish – not a global pandemic, not the actions and opinions of others, not my own faults and failings, not regrets of the past or unknowns in the future, not the circumstances I’m unable to change.
Certainly, nothing and no one can conquer the power of God at work in the lives of those who love Him. Nothing and no one. Because the source of the power is indisputable, all-knowing, ever present. And because He will never change, that power will always be available.
All we must do is tap in to it.
At the intersection of my human limitation and His supernatural ability, where my finite understanding meets His all-knowing, at the crossroad of seen and unseen is a choice. The choice to dwell on how I feel and what I see or to tap into the ever-flowing stream of God’s wisdom and strength.
So, I can be overwhelmed by my emotions or overflowing with His grace. I can let my circumstances define my mood, or I can process my circumstances and emotions in Him. I can remain depleted or come to Him to be refreshed.
The choice is entirely up to me.
So yes, the number of things on my to-do list may be more than the amount of time I have today. The amount of energy in my body may be nowhere close to what I wish it was. But I’m thankful for how God’s math checks out. He multiples grace and strength in us. His well of resources never runs dry. The daily stress of life, the major moments and the minutiae cannot subtract from the all-surpassing power in us.
“So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day.”
2 Corinthians 4:16 ESV
I’m pretty sure if you looked up “creature of habit” in the dictionary, you’d find my picture, one where I’m sporting the same haircut I’ve had for the last twenty years. My keys always go in the exact same spot. I gravitate to the same few restaurants, and once there, I tend to order the same few things. My “usual” has never failed me.
So, I can understand how the Israelites must have felt when they found themselves in a position where being creatures of habit wasn’t an option. In the retelling in Deuteronomy chapter 8, we read of a time when they found themselves in a desert, surrounded by sand, with no food in sight. They had left captivity in Egypt in the most astounding and glorious way, but they had not yet arrived at the homeland God had promised them. They were en route to destiny, and they had gotten hungry along the way.
God had the solution for their hunger, but it was something new, something different. He tells them in Deuteronomy 8:3 that it’s something “which neither you nor your fathers had known.” And again in Deuteronomy 8:16, he describes it as “something your fathers had never known.”
What is this strange new thing? And why is it pointed out, not once, but twice that it’s something new?
Manna. A fine, flakey substance used to make bread. Scripture tells us it tasted like wafers with honey. And it was a new item on the menu.
The Israelites were on a new course, one that was leading them to their promised land. They had new hope in their hearts. They had new commandments to live by. And they had new food in their bowls. Everything they were encountering was new – except for their God.
They had to trust that their God remained the same – faithful and trustworthy – even when everything else around them was new. They couldn’t base their trust on what was familiar and comfortable. They had to enlarge their perspective and place their trust solely on God – not on routine, not on comfort, not on predictability.
They had to have new faith in a new season, to trust God regardless of the circumstances. And that trust had to lead them to obedience, to picking up the manna and eating it, even though it was foreign.
It was a test of faith, and they passed. By eating the manna day in and day out, they were acknowledging God as their provider. They were accepting what He gave them, event though it looked different from anything they’d seen before, even though it wasn’t what they expected.
Certainly, there are things in my life that look vastly different from everything I ever expected. The story God’s given me looks so different from what I always pictured. But like the Israelites, I need to trust Him anyway. I need to hold on to Him and just eat the manna when it comes, even if I don’t understand it, even if it looks different. I need to trust the Source.
Ugh, this is my life now.
The thought ran through my mind as I fought back tears. I was a newlywed, riding in the car in my new town, unimpressed with my new surroundings, overwhelmed with drastic life changes. Even though I was glad to be married, I couldn’t help but miss the friends, the job, the church I had left behind – a culture that resonated with me, a city where I had put down roots. I was in a new chapter of my life – which was a good thing – but the scenery changed dramatically.
I liked the old view better.
That was ten years ago, and thankfully I’ve gotten used to my new surroundings. They’re not new anymore. Time has helped me adapt, but what helped the most was changing my thinking – reminding myself of the correct definition of life.
As a Christ follower, my life does not exist in my job, my relationships, my calendar, my responsibilities. My life isn’t just what I can see in front of me. My life comes from a higher Source. The rest – the daily stuff of life – is just circumstantial.
It can be easy to allow circumstances to consume us and morph into our identity. They are realities we deal with on a daily basis. They’re on our mind when we lay in bed at night, and they’re waiting for us the next morning. It’s all we think about when we think about us.
Single wanting to be married, married and wanting a baby, a health scare, a family crisis, what we see in the mirror, financial abundance or scarcity, a degree with letters after our name, our title at work, the title of “Mom” – these do not define us. They are opportunities to trust God and opportunities to serve others. They can give direction and meaning to our life, they can greatly affect our life, but they are not our life.
The number on the scale is not who I am. The number of followers I have on social media is not who I am. My unfulfilled goals and desires, my successes and struggles, others’ perceptions of me – these do not define me. They are not who I am.
Of course, that doesn’t mean we don’t have goals and work towards progress. The number on the scale doesn’t define me, sure, but I’m still working to lower that number to a healthier range. Not for looks, likes, or any reason other than wanting to steward the body God’s given me and to have energy to do all He’s called me to do.
It also doesn’t mean we simply coast and neglect to address the looming issues in life – the catastrophes and crises, the overwhelming issues we all deal with. When I had cancer, I met it head on. It was a focus of my prayers, my research, my mental capacity. It consumed much of my time.
Even though these things don’t define us, they are still a big deal. Huge! So, we tackle these issues from a standpoint of who we are in Christ. We filter our circumstances though the Word of God – who He is, what He’s done for us, and who He says we are.
As Christians, our identity is not in our circumstances but in the person of Jesus and the finished work of the cross. Because of His sacrificial death and resurrection, we can say-
- I am a new creation. (2 Corinthians 5:17)
- I have been given new life. (Galatians 2:20)
- I have been adopted into His family. (Ephesians 1:4, 5 and Romans 8:15-17)
- I am His. (Song of Solomon 2:16)
Cancer, money, marital status – these are not who I am. Fill in the blank in your own life. For me, infertility is not who I am. It is not my identity. It is something I deal with on a daily basis, and it has drastically affected my life, but it is not my life.
My life is not the sum total of my circumstances. My life is Christ. And that life could not be more loving, more exhilarating, or more fulfilling. It’s not perfect, but it’s a life I rejoice to live every day, regardless of the circumstances.
For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God. When Christ, who is your life, appears, then you will also appear with him in glory.
Colossians 3:3, 4 NIV
Lord, I give You everything I would do differently if I could do it all over again, and I give You the fact that I can’t. I can’t do it all over again. So, I give You what is, what isn’t, and what will never be. I give You what is to come. Thank You that hope is a reality not limited by my circumstances or deterred by my choices. The hope I have in You is an anchor for my soul – sure, firm, immovable. (Hebrews 6:19)
So, I choose to move forward in hope. I choose to live for You, not an ideal set of circumstances. I choose You. And I’ll choose you again and again.
“My choice is you, God, first and only…. Now you’ve got my feet on the life path, all radiant from the shining of your face. Ever since you took my hand, I’m on the right way.” Psalm 16:5, 11 MSG
You are my hope. Thank you for the resolute, renewing, life-giving hope that is only found in You. May I overflow with hope.
“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.”
Romans 15:13 NIV
My view from here is a wistful one. Through the window of my home office, I see my neighbor walk by with her toddler and her newborn in the stroller. The little girl is practically prancing down the street in her princess dress. It’s not Halloween anymore, and it doesn’t look like they’re having a birthday party. It’s just Thursday. And I guess that’s as good a reason as any to go full princess mode.
The whole thing made me smile as much as it made me cry. To see young mothers with their young daughters can’t help but grip my heart. I was never a young mother. I’ll never have a daughter. I’ll never have what I always wanted, and scenes like this are a vivid reminder of that loss.
I always wanted to be that young mother taking her kids outside for a mid-morning walk. I wanted to have a house full of kids, but I don’t. Instead, I have a household where the number of pets outweighs the number of children (two fur babies, one stepson).
But I take another look…
My view outside the home, my view inside the home – wherever I look I see evidence of God’s faithfulness, His goodness, His sovereign hand guiding me every step of the way. There’s so much I do have: a husband who loves me and is committed to me, a child in my home to love, friends, health, resources. I have things to look forward to. I have hope.
My view from home is not what I thought it would be, and I deal with the grief as it ebbs and flows. But regardless of what the view looks like, this is my home. This is my household. I choose to be thankful for all I do have and to steward it well.
So I pray…
“Regardless of what I have, regardless of what I don’t have, regardless of the circumstances and emotions, You are Lord, and You are good. You are worthy of my unwavering trust and undying devotion. I give all of me – the mess, the sadness, the things that I wish were different, the things that don’t come easily for me, the things I’m thankful for, the potential in me – I give it all freely to You. I’m Yours, Lord.
In the gap between what I always wanted and what I actually have, between hopeful expectation and bittersweet reality, I find You. And You give me the healing that is only found in You.”
That healing enables me to be surrounded by scenes of happy mothers and babies – like the one I witnessed today – but not be overcome by them. So, the next time my neighbors go for a walk, whether as princesses or fairies or superheroes, I can smile through my tears. I can rest in the knowledge that my view from home is something God sees, too. I am living my story, not somebody else’s, and He is with me as it unfolds.
As I look at my life, as I view my home, I look through the viewfinder of faith and see God, and that is enough for me.
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”
Psalm 34:18 NIV
Lord, I thank You that the overwhelming imperfection of my circumstances can never mar the perfection of who You are. You are perfect, and I cling to You in the midst of this imperfect mess. My constant prayer is one of reliance on You.
I give my less-than-perfect situation to the One who is greater than everything. I give it all to You….
- the things I can control and the things I can’t
- what I wish was different and what will never change
- what is required of me now and what comes next
I give You all of me. I thank You that the giving over of an imperfect person to a perfect, holy God is a good thing, a freeing thing. It’s what You want. You want all of me – the mess and the mistakes, the successes and the sin, the goals, the gifts from You, the need for grace.
So, here I am, Lord. Things aren’t always perfect. I’m not perfect. But You always are. And that is what I cling to in the midst of everything else.
“My soul clings to you; your right hand upholds me.”
Psalm 63:8 NIV
I love You, Lord. You are what matters most.
I thank You that You’re Lord of all. You’re Lord of what is and what isn’t. You’re Lord of my present reality and the choices that led me here. And You’re Lord of the choices that could have gone in a different direction. On the other side of every fork in the road I face, You are there – no matter which direction I choose.
You are Lord over yesterday – over regret, disappointment, pain.
You are Lord over today – over responsibilities, pressures, circumstances.
You are Lord over tomorrow – over choices, goals, possibilities.
So, I give You all of me:
- what is
- what isn’t
- what is to come
- what will never be.
What matters most is You.
“Whom have I in heaven but you? And earth has nothing I desire besides you.” Psalm 73:25 NIV
“But as for me, God’s presence is all I need.” Psalm 73:28 NET