Tag: Anchored Id

Peace

adacostauf

“Now may the Lord of peace Himself give you His peace at all times and in every situation.” – 2 Thessalonians 3:16, NLT

This world, it feels like it’s closing in on me at every second. The dreams-dashed there, the heartbreak from losses and grief. The scheming rulers of the world, and everything to do with social media.

It distracts, and it does it’s very best to destroy any and all peace we may have. We get so bombarded with things at every corner. We get told what to do by influencers, then by those around us. Those wanting to give helpful advice, but only ruining the plans and dreams we used to have. We go to those we think we can trust, only to wonder if they’re saying things and giving advice for their own desires, or if it really is genuine.

But peace, what of it? If we watch the news for even a second, it’s disrupted and destroyed. If we give breadth to our worries and entertain our list of tasks and all the things we’ve failed to accomplish, there is no peace to be found.

But what if it’s more than that? What if peace transcends all the circumstances of this world? What if peace, like joy, is supposed to be right there with us, engrained in us, stamped on our hearts, throughout every circumstance in this life?

That we can watch the news, we can hear advice from those we don’t agree with, we can see devastation and disruption and go down the black hole of doom scrolling, we can see the hurricanes develop and the spaghetti models plot and swerve toward us. But what if, in the midst of all of that, we still have peace?

Because… we’re supposed to.

As Christians, it’s our spiritual birthright. When we repent of our sins and accept Jesus into our hearts, we have the Holy Spirit in us. Living inside of us, speaking through us, writing through us, loving through us. And giving us His peace that surpasses all understanding.

Peace, because Jesus has forgiven us for all of our sins. Peace because the Savior of the world knows the plans that He has for us. Peace because “by His wounds we are healed” (Isaiah 53:5). Peace because we know that we are just strangers passing through. Peace because the one who lives in us is far greater than anything or anyone in this world. Peace because we know that this isn’t the end. Peace because Heaven is far better and eternity, for those in Christ, is more wonderful than we could ever possibly imagine.

Jesus in us, the Prince of Peace.

This world will always bring storms. The enemy is alive (though he’s been defeated by the resurrection of Christ, and we know how eternity goes for Satan – it does not). But with the little time he has left, he’s doing all he can to steal, kill and destroy. To rob us of peace. He loves nothing more to steal it from Christians and test their faith.

I think that nothing terrifies the enemy more (aside from Jesus), than true followers of Jesus with unwavering faith and unshakable peace. The ones who have God’s Word so embedded in and written on their hearts, that no matter how vile and horrific this world grows, they can’t be shaken or concerned because the circumstance of eternity far outweighs the temporary anger of the world.

It’s the stormy sea surrounded by wind and rain. But when the sun shows and the clouds go away, and the wind stills, it’s calm and clear.

As Christians, we have the Son in us, living in us. Though there are lots of clouds, wind and rain – we need not be affected. Because the one who is Peace dwells in us, forget the outside circumstances of this world. Focus on the Son. Rejoice in the peace that He alone gives.

But what is peace?

Where do you find it?

As Christians, we’re told it’s our spiritual birthright. Something we’re supposed to lay claim to, to hold on to. To have it in the middle of the worst circumstances. To seek it, because we know our Creator.

To be confident in our knowledge of it, so we can rebuke the outside noises of the world.

Peace.

This world seems desperate for it.

Every day we’re hearing about world leaders and how fallen they are. We’re hearing of wars and threats of wars. Of pestilences and plagues. Of people, celebrities, making mistakes. Of wrecks and shootings and other unimaginable tragedies.

Then we turn around and wonder where God is. We’ve removed Him out of schools, banned Him from sporting events, mocked Him as we try to find answers for and explain everything, because it must’ve happened without some grand Designer.

Then we argue for peace. We want wars to stop, but He’s no longer welcomed in our countries. We want violence to stop, but the music and games and movies encourage it and even glorify it.

We’re so consumed with our gains and our desires that we forget to humble ourselves to the one who is over all, living through all and above all.

We kick God to the curb and then blame Him for a world without peace

How to we obtain it? Fight for it? Men search their whole lives for it and wage wars for it. People spend thousands and thousands of dollars on vacations thinking that they’ll finally have a “moment’s peace” there. They move and spend millions of dollars thinking that their new house will give them peace. But maybe it’s true that we’ll never be content running to different places if we can’t find contentment during present circumstances of life.

What is peace? Or who is peace? Can anyone actually have peace that surpasses understanding?

“Peace I leave with you, My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled neither let it be afraid.” -John 14:27, NKJV

“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

“In peace I will lie down and sleep, for you alone, Lord, make me dwell in safety.” – Psalm 4:8, NIV

What if peace, much like joy, is something not based on circumstance, but fully anchored in Christ?

Jesus is the Lord of Peace. The Prince of Peace. The one who gives us peace that surpasses understanding.

He acknowledged that we would have trouble in this world. In fact, it’s a promise. Because this world is fallen. It’s filled with sin, wickedness, turmoil. For as long as Satan is Satan, sin is sin and human nature is prevalent, there will always be disruption and disorder of every kind.

But the good news? The good news is The Good News.

Christians do not have to fear the circumstances of this world. We don’t have to go down the rabbit hole of bad news on reels and other videos, proclaiming toxins in our food, alien abductions and space storms.

Yes, in this world we will have trouble. People in this world will always have trouble. But we serve the Messiah who has overcome the world. The one who promises peace.

The one who stepped into our world to bear our scars, our worries, our sickness an sins. So that we could have a relationship with Him and that we can know Him.

Then He went to the cross so that we might always know peace.

This world will throw everything at us. As Christians, we will continuously be attacked by a very real enemy who comes to steal, kill and destroy. But with Jesus, with knowing Him, with knowing the eternity He died and rose to give us, we can live forever with hope and peace. Because Jesus gives us wisdom. He guides us. He protects us from more things we can ever possibly comprehend. And He is with us always, He knows and He understands what we’re going through.

But Jesus.

This world might be in utter chaos. For those who know His word, this world will only get worse. But we have the secret. We have, and know, the answer. We can live forever in hope and peace because of Jesus. Because “the Coming One will come and not delay.” – Hebrews 10:37-38, NLT

This world is not our home. The circumstances do not define our lives. The verdict on earth does not compare to Christ’s “well done” in Heaven.

We are strangers passing through. But we have the secret: Christ in us, the Hope of Glory – who will see us through all things. He goes before us and stands behind us. Nothing can happen without going through Him.

And He will protect us and keep us safe, all the days of our lies. We just need to focus on Him and fix our eyes on the King of Glory.

Because this is temporary. The peace that we get to hold onto is the promise of Jesus, the Prince of Peace. The Prince of Peace is our Anchor, our Defender, our Protector. So how could we ever let our hearts be troubled or afraid?

“Dear brothers and sisters, I close my letter with these last words: Be joyful. Grow in maturity. Encourage each other. Live in harmony and peace. Then the God of love and peace will be with you.” – 2 Corinthians 13:11, NLT

I was the storm. Unwilling and unrelenting, I reacted to the skies, the wind above me. I reflected their status. I was luxury when the sun was out and calm when the sky was the perfect shade of blue. But certain clouds would come and I’d splash and grow to a deeper blue in certain spots. Wind would blow and the waves grew higher. Then the wind with the clouds, darker this time, and more blue, then so blue I was almost back – but the waves would lift and white foam would surround and overwhelm.

On the sunny, clear days I would be calm; on the surface and throughout. But with this, with my job to reflect, the outer turmoil failed to compare to what went on inside me. Fish and leviathans rolled about, being splashed from their homes. Corals and other rocks would break apart, my waves rolling them haphazardly onto shore. The boats that took my path with toss and turn, and sometimes wreck.

I reflected what went on around me. And that reflection affected everything in me, the shore surrounding me, and the living things near me.

I reflected the world. The wind, the weather, the rains. Men got sick and worried as they sailed on me, but their thoughts and cries were useless as they could never tame me.

Only the howling wind, only the sun and the clouds.

I was merciless. Lured people in by the clarity, but the outside forces could turn that clarity into a destructive war.

The most powerful, mysterious force. Tales were told about me. I was revered and feared, though people dared to brave my mighty roars.  No man could possibly understand my depths, my darkness and the creatures that lurked within me. No man could possibly understand how to tame the wind and the waves.

Ships would throw anchors, and no matter how strong they thought they were, how secure, the right storm could blow it all away. One harsh wave could wipe them out. Enough jostling and war on the surface would wreak havoc all the way down to their precious anchor and it would be uprooted.

No one could possibly tame this force. No one could. Except the One who spoke me into being. No one except the Creator. My Creator.

I was there in the formless void. I was there in the flood. I was there as He swept up and parted the Red Sea.

And then, years and years and timeless times later there was more rain, wind, and the darkest of clouds. A boat was tossed about, the men on it fearing for their lives. The storm raged, whipping me and therefore their boat all about. My mighty waves crashed and broke over their boat, nearly drowning them.

But then one of them appeared, a new one, in a calmness I had never witnessed before.

“Peace! Be still!”

The wind ceased and the clouds evaporated, and my waves stilled immediately at His words.

There was a great calm, a calm unlike anything I had ever known. Peace. Be still.

I was at peace, I was still. All the way to my very depths.

All the outside forces that had forever affected me; all of the hounding winds, pounding rain which caused the mightiest roar were still.  Were at peace. Finally. All because of Him. Surely, He had to be the Prince of Peace!

“Now may the Lord of peace Himself give you peace at all times in every way. The Lord be with you all.” (VERSE) – 2 Thessalonians 3:16, ESV

Lost & Confused

adacostauf

“For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.” – Luke 19:10, NIV

He had led them out of the turmoil, with the promise of something wonderful in store. A land that was unimaginable and grand and prospering. It would be beautiful, full of abundance.

So they set out, even though they were being pursued. He parted a sea for them, then crushed their enemies in their wake. Then they got to the desert, to the wilderness, and began their questions. Their faith was rocky, if not there at all. Their leader took down commands, only to discover that they stooped so low as to make false gods from material they manipulated.

He had a glimpse of the Promised Land, but he couldn’t go there. They couldn’t. Because instead of recognizing how far Yahweh had brought them, instead of being in awe of how God rescued them from the turmoil in Egypt, they doubted and questioned because of their hunger and grew frustrated and impatient and manipulated false gods because they grew impatient with the real one.

So there they stayed for 40 years, wandering, lost in the wilderness. Because they doubted, because they questioned and rebelled and didn’t give their Redeemer a chance, because they focused on me, being lost, they never got to see the Promised Land.

“Oh, how often they rebelled against Him in the wilderness and grieved His heart in that dry wasteland. Again and again, they tested God’s patience and provoked the Holy One of Israel. They did not remember His power and how He rescued the from their enemies. They did not remember His miraculous signs in Egypt, His wonders on the plain of Zoan.” -Psalm 78:40-42, NLT

The wilderness is where we rebel, where we grieve God’s heart. He will make His path known for those who humble themselves and choose Him.

But how often we fail. How often we want to stick to our own path, go with how we’re feeling, and the opinions of anyone else. How often we forget to set aside time for the King of Kings – because that’s what the Father longs for. Time. Our love, and our hearts poured out to Him.

The Bible says that He knows the plans He has for us, but He never demands His own way. He gives us free will, because He desired true love. In our free will, we rebel. We wander in the wilderness. We rant and complain, we hunger and thirst. We cling to things that we think will promote us and put us on the right path. We make the grave mistake of failing to go to the One who holds eternity first. The God who sees things we can’t, who understands we don’t. We rebel while He waits.

We get so lost and misguided in this world and by it, but even so, Jesus waits. He patiently waits.

We think it’s easier to do everything else, all of the research, all the weight of our “friends’” opinions, instead of going to the one who has never left us or forsaken us. We think it’s an inconvenience to Jesus, a small matter to Him (even though it’s important to us). And then, when things don’t go as planned, when we’re totally lost in the maze, we get angry with the One who we never went to to begin with.

Surely, He could’ve directed us.

Surely, He would’ve set us on the right path.

But we were not still. We chose that friend’s advice. We went with that person’s opinion. We did not go to Christ first, who would’ve guided us in the right way in His perfect timing.

So we messed up, wandered in the wilderness, and take our frustrations to God even though He’s not to blame. But maybe He’s the only one who can actually handle it.

I don’t want to wander in the wilderness, I don’t want to grieve Jesus. I joke about how convenient it would be if He would just stamp a to-do list on us when we’re born. Where to go, what to study, what to do, who to marry, where to move. The unknown, the wilderness scares me. I so desperately want to be in God’s will, that I run before listening to move even though I don’t feel peace. I overthink and overanalyze to the point where I’m so laden with anxiety of what I should do to be in His will, that I actually fail to go to Christ about what His will actually is.

I’m not a good listener. I’m not good at being still and quieting the almost never-ending dialog in my head. I think, I imagine, I worry and grieve.

But what would happen if I was still enough to lay out my plans, my hopes, my desires, my fears before Him? What if I laid out my requests and dreams?

He could say no.

He could also say not now.

And He could also give me His wisdom on how to go about it. Peace for where I’m concerned, guidance for the issues that I’m facing. Knowledge on when and where and how, plus discernment on who to trust.

I want to please Jesus. I want so desperately to be in His will. But we all get stuck in the wilderness at some point. We all think that our own path is correct. And maybe we become like the Pharisees, so wrapped up in going through the motions, thinking that our thoughts and our worries and our rules are pleasing to God, that we fail to be raw and real and desperate and broken and humble before our Father in Heaven, who already knows our innermost thoughts and desires.

I can’t imagine how deeply it must grieve the Father’s heart for us to get so lost in the wilderness. For Him to know the joy, the plans and the direction He has awaiting us, but to see us stuck, to see us going anywhere and everywhere except Him.

If we run to Him, He won’t be inconvenienced. If we nag Him and ask Him all sorts of things and what to do and where to go, He won’t be frustrated or upset; I think it will delight His heart.

Because He died to give us life. He came here so we can have hope and life and abundance. He’s the Father who adores His children and wants to guide them along the right paths. His right paths. Brining glory and honor to His Name. (Psalm 23:3) 

We want a cure for the desert, a home with water and trees in a parched, dry land. We want out of the wilderness, and to have hope when there doesn’t seem to be any.

We hate the feeling of being lost, of being stuck in the muck and the mire. Of not knowing what’s next and wandering.

Sometimes, in this side of heaven, it feels like there isn’t a cure for feeling lost, for being lost. We open maps and our phones, we ask directions. But until you’re in the midst of a national park, lost in the mountains, without any cell service, you will be wondering around lost until you find the rescuer, usually a park ranger. Or are found by them (in my very real experience). But until we finally find the way, until we know we’re where we want to be, there’s always an underlying feeling of insecurity when we’re not yet to our destination. 

“For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.” -2 Timothy 1:7, NKJV

A sound mind. A trusting, confident, sound mind. A mind that knows that no matter what the conditions of the world are, we can have faith that we have confidence of a sound mind because of Jesus. Because of His grace, we can know that we are found in Him.

“For our sake He made Him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in Him we might become the righteousness of God.” – 2 Corinthians 5:21, ESV

Righteousness is something we could never obtain without Christ and His perfect sacrifice. And a sound mind is a gift for all who accept Jesus. We have the Holy Spirit living in us, who gives us power, His love, and His sound mind. We have the mind of Christ. So even though this world will do everything to make us lost and confused, we can remember Who we are found in.

Yet there are diseases – awful diseases, which threaten to pull us away. They pull family members away. It’s heartbreaking and frustrating, and overwhelming to the person and their family. And that is hard to understand. Why there hasn’t been a cure for horrendous heartbreaking diseases like dementia and Alzheimer’s is something difficult to grasp. We pray desperately for a cure, and try to eat the right foods – but when people find out that they’re genetically predisposed, and where do you go from there?

Do you live in constant fear of the illness you may or may not get; or to you choose life and your family, and choose to be in the present as long as you can? Which is something we should all be doing.

Soundness of mind, having the mind of Christ, is a gift. And so often, we take it for granted.

It’s hard not knowing what the future holds. It’s difficult trying to understand why we have to be caught in the midst of the unknown, when Christ is always for us. When He says He knows the plans He has for us. It then becomes difficult to understand why He doesn’t make those plans abundantly clear.

Yet He does give us a road map. He does direct us. The guidance for our lives, the map that we need, is the Bible. From Genesis through Revelation. We want to know what the future holds and the direction we need to go, and everything that we should do, our work, and the people we should be involved with on this earth. The Bible provides the key road map to what matters most: Eternity. And it also provides the key road map to who matters most: Jesus.

From the beginning, since sin entered the world, people were desperate for the Messiah. The Promised One. All of the scriptures pointed to Him. Then He arrived, welcoming everyone who would seek Him. But today, so many are still searching, too prideful to the ways of this world to recognize all the promises He holds. He always was, is and is still to come.

We want to hear His voice, His direction. But He speaks to us with a still, small voice.

We take tests, we fear the unknown. We wonder what will happen and when. But at the end of the day, the best thing we can do with the unknown is place our faith in the one to whom all things are known. He sees all things, and He makes all things work together for our good.

We grasp and yearn for understanding, for clarity, we pray for things to happen or not to happen. But when Christ is truly in control, when He truly sets us free, when our faith and the hope of our unknowns is truly in His hands – we can know the future. Because Jesus is the future.

“Whoever finds their life will lose it, and whoever loses their life for My sake will find it.” – Matthew 10:39, NIV

Maybe there had been a storm. He was out playing with his friends, exploring, on the outer edges when the sky grew dark. He heard the call and his friends scattered back to the group, but maybe his foot was stuck, or he tripped.

That’s when the horrendous downpour hit. Once he freed his foot, he was swallowed up by the rain, blinded by it. He yelped and hollered, but got shoved off course, slipping and sliding down a seemingly never-ending path of water mixed with earth.

He started trembling, shaking. He’d been taught to wander but stick with his group, and he had. But out much could change in an instant. He closed his eyes against the rain, and fear until he finally came to a stop.

He was surrounded by rocks and trees, away from his group, away from his family. Away from his leader. The wise one who always seemed to know just where they should go. When to go back home.

He was well and truly alone and lost. And oh, so terrified.

He curled up in a ball, bruised and hurt, crying for anyone, for any help. But this area was unfamiliar to him as well as the rest of his group, and certainly must be for his leader. Maybe they forgot about him.

Maybe he was lost forever. After all, who was one little one amongst the ninety-nine?

But, as the sun finally came out again, he heard a voice in the distance. He heard that call. The one just for him and his group, his flock. But this time, specifically, it felt like it was just for him. He was so sore though, barely able to stand much less run toward the sound. But it grew closer, and he began to bleat. It was soft and gentle, but the sound of his leader’s voice grew closer and closer.

Then, with a cry of joy, his leader was suddenly running to him, then checking on him, murmuring and praying over every ache and sore he had. His shepherd, with shouts of joyful praise, put the lost little sheep over his shoulders and carried him home. The sheep’s friends and family rejoiced, and the shepherd ran about, telling his friends and neighbors to rejoice with him over the little sheep.

He felt so insignificant and thought he would be forever in the wilderness, but he was being rejoiced over! For he had been lost, but now, he was found.



“Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Doesn’t he leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders and goes home. Then he calls his friends and neighbors together and says, ‘Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep. I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in Heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent.” – Luke 15:3-7, NIV

Anchored Identity – Introduction

adacostauf

Anchored Identity

-Introduction-

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through Him all things were made; without Him nothing was made that has been made. In Him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind.” – John 1:1-4, NIV

In the beginning.

In the beginning was the word.

In our beginning, in your beginning, it probably started with a cry. With a whisper of a name.

Then the whir of hospital monitors and medical tools, and the voice of a million strangers bombarded you. You were whisked off; taken from the comfort of the warm home you’d grown to love the last nine months.

Yet through the whir, maybe your little ears heard voices in the background. They were familiar. You’d come to love them as you’d developed in your home. As you were being poked and prodded and cleaned, you heard the comforting voices and clung to them, until you were finally placed to rest on the familiar heartbeat of your home.

Then the familiar voice, this heartbeat’s voice, said a name over you again. Your identity.

The one thing that would stick with you.

You weren’t prepared for the others though. The identities given through the noise. More of a blur.

More confusion.

More judgement.

More of a cruel world.

What would it be like to be brand new again? What would it be like to have a fresh start? To have a name spoken over you that would be your identity, without judgement. With love, and joy.

It couldn’t be possible, could it?

The labels the world pressed on you had become your identity, along with your name.

Lost. Confused. Unloved. Unwanted. Orphan. Homeless. Sick. Anxious. Mourner. Broken. Fearful. Unknown. Condemned. Criminal. Liar. Greedy. Sinner.

The noise. The identities.

The identities come like one wave after the next, crashing against you and pushing you down to the depths. You feel like you are drowning.

But then, something solid comes within your grasp. Your saltwater-blurred eyes open to find the barnacle encrusted steel piece stuck in the floor of the sea. You grab hold of the line attached to it and follow it with your eyes through the muck and mire. There’s a light at the end. So you hold onto your anchor, and follow it to the light.

Because the identities the world pressed on you were suffocating, but this anchor – there’s a light at the end. There are the promises of newness. Of new identities. Of promises of hope and a future and a glorious eternity if only you cling to this Anchor.

“So from now on we regard no one from a worldly point of view. Though we once regarded Christ in this way, we do so no longer. Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!” – 2 Corinthians 5:16-17, NIV