We’re almost halfway through the Gospel Reading Challenge (it’s never too late to join us), and I can’t fully express how good these weeks walking closely to the words, works, and miracles of Jesus have felt in my soul.
As I sit down to read each morning, I’ve been praying one consistent prayer: God, show me something I’ve never seen before. I think that’s a beautiful element of the Bible– there’s so much packed within the pages that you can’t possibly take it all in at once. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve read these four books of the Bible, and still, I’m finding new things all the time.
Some of these stories I know like the back of my hand. I know that Jesus arrives on the scene and is baptized by John the Baptist. I know a Morgan Freeman-esque voice booms down from heaven and declares Jesus to be the beloved Son of God. I know the Spirit leads Jesus into the wilderness directly after the baptism. I know Jesus fasts 40 days and 40 nights and is tempted by the devil. I know all these things, so it’s easy to just glance over them and move on.
But something about that last detail is hitting me differently this time: Jesus goes into the wilderness. He fasts for forty days and forty nights. The testing then begins.
I feel like if I were Jesus in this story, then I would have done things differently. First off, I would have been beaming at this point. I would have been on such a high from the experience in the water. I’d be like, “FINALLY- I am going to get to start my ministry.” I have no idea what I would have done in the wilderness, but I more than likely wouldn’t have been denying myself food for forty days. All of this is simple evidence that it’s a really good thing I’m not Jesus.
Instead of assuming he could endure the test on his own, Jesus put himself through a rigorous form of fasting to strengthen himself in God for what was to come.
Jesus spent his time in obscurity preparing for the upcoming test. He prepared radically and inwardly.
I think we prepare for a lot of things. We prepare for the workweek. We prepare for events. We prepare for weddings and babies and milestones. We prepare presentations. We prepare meals. We prepare for storms. We prepare for emergencies.
But do you ever prepare for the challenging season coming up ahead?
Do you ever prepare for a thing you could never predict is coming?
I’m not trying to get all doomsday on us this Monday. I know “prepare for your life to fall apart” is not exactly the message you want to hear to get you going today. And I’m also not speaking that kind of disaster over your life. I’m just saying: This lifetime is so far from perfect. Storms are inevitable. There will be many moments ahead where we are tested. What would it look like to prepare for the upcoming tests?
I also know there are plenty of events that happen in our lives where we’re never graced with a warning sign. The loss of a baby. The sudden breakup. The relapse. The shattering of a relationship you thought you’d have forever. But are there things we can do here and now to strengthen our faith for the battles ahead? To grow our dependence on God? To prepare for the tests?
As the seasons shift, this time of year always reminds me of the first year I moved to Atlanta. This was about the time in my story– nearing the 6-month mark of living in a new city– when the honeymoon period ended. There were so many moments of thinking to myself, “This isn’t what I thought it would be. God, this isn’t what I wanted.” My expectations were crumbling, and I had to face reality. That November, I was hit with the giant storm of my life: a crippling depression that I honestly wasn’t sure I’d ever come out from.
And when it hit, I was completely and utterly unprepared. I had no foundation to stand on. I had no practice to lean into. I felt helpless to do anything but be tossed by the waves and wind. No one had ever told me to have an emergency plan.
I look back on that girl, and I have deep compassion for her. She didn’t know what she didn’t know. But I’ve also lived a lot since then, and there are plenty of things I would go back and tell her. Little pieces of wisdom I learned throughout the storms of life.
I can imagine sitting across from her in that coffee shop she frequented daily. I imagine starting with one truth and letting all the other truths I’ve encountered unravel from there.
The first truth: you cannot prevent turbulence any more than you can stop the storms from coming. These things are beyond your control. We all experience them. But you can prepare.
You can expect the turbulence, and you can prepare for it… let me show you how.
