Have you ever woken up in a state of panic? Maybe it was because you were particularly tired. Maybe you were sick. Maybe you were travelling and not in your own bed. It has happened to me a few times and nothing is more unsettling then being confused about where you are. I remember one time being in a cottage near Huntsville and waking up in the middle of the night to complete darkness. It was so dark I felt claustrophobic. It made me want to go home and get my trusty Snoopy nightlight!

Imagine what it must be like to be awake in a city you have lived in all your life and still get confused about exactly where you are. Oh, you might know the generalities of where you are, but at the same time, there is a veil of confusion that makes even the familiar seem unfamiliar. It feels kind of like you’re in a dream, but you know you are awake and your confusion is real.

I can’t think of many things more unsettling than that. Yesterday a friend of mine had that happen to him. Perhaps it was the heat and humidity. Maybe he was dehydrated. Maybe it was a combination of factors, I really can’t say. All I know is that his confusion was real and the fear I saw in his eyes when he showed up at the church yesterday was palpable. Understandably he was in quite a state.

He recounted to me the story of how a friend was supposed to pick him up downtown but he couldn’t remember where he had been dropped off. Everything seemed to close in on him. It was then that he said something that I will never forget. He said, “I didn’t know where I was, I was so confused, but I knew if I could just get here (meaning the church) then I’d be safe.”

As soon as he said it, I immediately saw his journey as a terrifying parable with a profound truth. Life gets more and more confusing. Principles that should be foundational are now vaguely familiar. The moral architecture of our world is shifting. The challenges we face as God’s people can sometimes be overwhelming. Navigating life today can get terribly bewildering. But if we can just remember that there is a safe place. If we can just remember that there is a place where truth calms our confusion and the love of Christ brings comfort, we can make it through those times of panic.

Ultimately, I was honoured that my friend chose Keele Street to be that place of safety. I can’t help but think that, more than ever, we need the hope, the love, the fellowship and support of the local church to be that grounding place of safety and reality in a world that often seems like a disorienting bad dream. More than anything else, we need to trust in the Prince of Peace. After all He is the One who promised – “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33, NIV).

The Handyman’s Shop is gone. I just walked by it the other day, but now it is gone. And by gone I mean, no longer in existence. I don’t mean they moved or I forgot what street they were on. The building itself is gone. It has been razed. (Have you ever wondered why raze sounds the same as raise but means the opposite?) I find this mildly disturbing. I mean I know stores open and close all the time, but buildings don’t come and go quite as often and yet it has become a trend in my neighbourhood lately. In other words, my concern has been raised by all this razing. I am down in the dumps because of all of the dumps that have been downed.

In fact, just in my neighbourhood, I can think of at least three places that have become open spaces. One of them is now on its way to becoming a condo, but another has remained a barren gap in the flow of a commercial block that reminds me of an eight-year-olds’ simile. Missing teeth are cute, in an eight-year-old that is, but missing buildings aren’t. They are just a reminder that something used to be there, until someone comes and fills them in.

Now, I don’t want you to worry about me. I am not going to fall apart because of what has been taken apart. I am sure I can handle all the dismantled. After all, life goes on. But, last year when we were back in PEI, I drove by the location that housed the place in which we lived and the church building in which I served and there was nothing to indicate that either one of them was ever there. The highway has been improved and so the house and the church building no longer exist. What once was an essential part of the community has now made way to an easier exodus out of the community. Apparently all it took was a day to wipe out the one bit of PEI that was most familiar to me.

I couldn’t help but reflect on whether we ever really lived on PEI. I know we did. I know we spent six years there, but at the same time, now with all physical evidence gone, it seemed more of a dream than a reality. That led me to ponder what lasting effect our presence in PEI has had. Since there is no longer any physical evidence, is there any lasting spiritual evidence that we ever lived in PEI? It is a good question, albeit a bit unsettling.

Ultimately I am reminded that our investment in people is by far the most lasting of investments we can make. It is possible to have all physical record of your life removed, razed, and rubbed out, but what you have invested in friends and family and community will remain. One day your own abode will be lowered into a grave and all your investments in the gym will rot and become fast food for worms. But all your investments in people will live on—particularly the Investments of the eternal variety.

One last point—ripping down is part of what is necessary to build up. When you have an established community, the only option you have to build something new is to tear something old down. With that in mind, and as we still see the New Year in our rear view mirrors, what, in your life, has to be razed to raise your spiritual infrastructure? What has to be ripped down so that you can be built up? Often less is definitely more.

I am not the smartest guy on the planet and I am certainly not the best looking guy on the planet either. Some of you might find that hard to believe; the rest of you have met me. Neither am I the most agile, the strongest, the funniest, most charming, or even the most cuddly—although I am probably in the top ten in that last category.

I have often wondered what it is that I have that sets me apart from anyone in the crowd, besides my delusions of grandeur, that is. If I were forced to decide and come up with an answer—I am also not the most decisive guy either—I would have to say that it is probably that I am persistent. I don’t give up easily. I keep at it. I work hard. I try hard. If I have any success at the things I attempt, it’s most likely because of my effort, not my talent. Still, what little pride I have in my persistence quotient has now been stripped away by a 68 year-old South Korean woman. You see, Cha Sa-soon, the woman of which I speak, has recently passed her driver’s test. Big deal you say, what is so great about that? Well, the big deal is that it took her 950 tries!

Apparently she has been trying to get her licence since April of 2005. That is 950 tests in four years. Do the math—we are talking roughly 238 tests taken per year, with a cost of 5 million won ($4,200) in application fees. Yes, this is certainly a big deal! Oh and by the way, she has only passed the written test to this point. Now she has to work on the driving exam itself!

I guess I could look at this a couple of different ways: Either I could be concerned that it took her 950 tries to get 60% on a driver’s test, or I could focus on the fact that she has a downright inspiring level of determination. I choose to take the high road with option two because I live on the other side of the world—far, far away from any vehicle she might ever find herself driving.

Cha Sa-soon needed the licence for her vegetable-selling business. In other words, there was a reason for her determination outside of the fact that she wanted a driver’s licence. I doubt that just a desire for a driver’s licence would have put enough gas in her tank to get her to take the test almost a daily for four years!

As Christians we sometimes forget that salvation isn’t our primary goal. It is merely our spiritual driver’s licence that puts us on the road to an adventure that will take us to all kinds of destinations in our relationship with Jesus. Thankfully our salvation doesn’t require the same kind of determination that Cha Sa-soon showed in getting her driver’s test. Jesus has already taken the test for us. But I would suggest that your spiritual journey does require determination, if you are going to get the best mileage from your faith and reach all the destinations along the way that Christ has entered into your Spiritual GPS.

Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. (Colossians 3:1-2)

source:MSNBC