I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the “Kingdom of God.” You see, I’ve been hanging out with this group of people for the past three years that talk about the Kingdom on a pretty regular basis. We’ve talked about the paradox of the “now” versus the “not yet.” The paradox of “my kingdom is coming” versus “my kingdom is here.” And, I think that’s probably a good thing. But, lately, as my life has been in upheaval, as I’ve been healed from depression that plagued me for over five years, as I’ve walked out life with some very messy and broken people and as I’ve re-established a regular discipline of scripture reading, spending time primarily in the Gospels, I’ve become increasingly uncomfortable with some things that have been communicated to me over the last years.
First, somewhere along the line, the idea of “the Kingdom of God breaking through” has begun to be associated only with the major events. The kind of services where someone gets healed, or there’s tongues or screaming or dancing wildly, people shaking and falling over, an unreached people group converting to Christ. And I have to wonder about this idea of God’s kingdom being only in the big and showy events. Because my own experiences would challenge that assumption. Now, let me be honest and say that this may not have been intentionally communicated, but it seems we’ve been so busy looking for the “big” events lately that we’ve forgotten to see God’s kingdom in the minutia of daily living – in the moments beyond Sunday night services and Tuesday night house church – in the moments marked with financial difficulties, with illness, with boredom, with questions about life and health, with laughter and tears.
Yes, approximately five months ago, there was a big event in my life – God’s kingdom broke through, and my own depression was healed. However, that was the last big event I have personally experienced. And yet, I don’t think that that was the last time God’s kingdom broke through. Because there have been any number of tiny moments when I have known without a doubt the presence of God’s kingdom in my life. There was the phone call at two in the morning, during a week where my attitude was anything but appropriate for ministry, where God very clearly drew me out of my own self-involved thoughts and asked me to speak to the broken and weeping woman on the other end of the phone line. I know from further conversations with her that she remembers very little of what God asked me to speak that night, but the conversation is burned into my own mind with the clarity of a moment where God very clearly intervened beyond my own willingness, ability or skills.
My second challenge is this: We have become so caught up in seeking the “kingdom of God” that we have neglected to develop an ability to deal with the messiness that ensues when God’s kingdom does not break through. And let me be completely honest – while there have been any number of moments where I have known God’s kingdom breakthrough without a doubt, there have been far more moments when I have known with equal certainty that God’s kingdom was not breaking through. And here’s the thing – we must learn to look for God in those moments as well. Because He, as an omnipresent Savior can be no less present in the moments when the realities of evil are winning than He can be in the moments when His kingdom is noticeably breaking through. So what do we do when the kingdom of God is not breaking through?
We must learn to live with messy. The thing is, I know a lot of people who espouse the value of recognizing the messiness of the human condition, but I know very few people who can actually live what they are espousing. When God’s kingdom broke through in my life, and my depression was healed, the messiness in my life didn’t disappear, it simply shifted. I am still a wounded person, whom God is healing day by day. And four days after God stepped into my life, He tossed me headlong into ministering to others who have led lives far more messy than my own. And we talk and talk and talk about the beauty of honesty, the beauty of being “real” but so very few people choose to actually live these values.
I am in a place in life where I cannot help but speak with honesty. I come from a family background where lies and evil were perpetuated by silence, and I am compelled at times to speak and break the hold of that silence on my life. And at times it feels harsh and critical to speak honestly, and I wonder if I am wrong. At other moments I struggle with the feeling of exposure and vulnerability – having the honest state of my life on display. But I have watched for years as people within the body of Christ suffered in silence. I have been a victim of the mentality that attaches societal stigma to issues like depression and abuse, and makes the church a place of hurt rather than a place of healing. I cannot wear the masks anymore.
And here’s the thing – I am finding God in the places where it seems evil is the most rampant. In the lives of abused women and broken families. In my own life and struggles. Yes, God healed me from depression. He gave me hope. But four days later he plunged me headlong into the very evil realities of life for a number of people I am privileged to call friends. I sat at house church last night, pondering a couple of conversations I’d had in the previous twenty-four hours. I sat there and my heart was breaking for these people. And I realized something – if the reality of evil in the lives of these people was breaking my heart, how much more so was it breaking the heart of God? And so, I’m going to keep looking for Him in the places where His kingdom is NOT breaking through. I’m going to keep praying for breakthrough, but looking for Him even in the places where breakthrough is not happening. I’m going to look for Him in the tiny breakthroughs, and not just the big moments. Because He is no less present in those tiny places, and in the places marked by evil than He is in the big “the kingdom most definitely broke through” moments.
