I'm taking my family on a road trip next week, and I’m already preparing myself for the inevitable question: “Are we there yet?”

It doesn’t seem to matter how important the journey or how beautiful the scenery, there’s just something inside of us that longs to get to the destination. Or, if where we’re going feels too distant, to wistfully look over our shoulder to where we started and wish we could go back.

The Israelites fell into this trap, even after they’d watched God lead them out of slavery through a series of plagues; even after He’d parted the waters and destroyed the most powerful army on the planet; even as He led them in a pillar of cloud by day and fire by night and as they ate bread that miraculously appeared on the ground each morning and drank water that gushed from a rock in the middle of the wilderness, still they grew tired of the journey. They grew weary of being dependent on God both for their direction and their sustenance.

And in the midst of the discomfort, they began to reminisce about how “comfortable it was back in Egypt,” forgetting that it was literal slavery. They began to grow impatient to get through the journey and arrive at their destination. They began to grumble against God. It didn’t matter that He was guiding them, or that He was providing for them – their attitudes turned this adventure into an ordeal. And because of their resistance to trust God and follow His lead, God literally extended the time they spent in the wilderness. Because what He was teaching them about trust and dependence was just as important, if not more so, than where He was bringing them.

As I examine my own heart in this current season, I discover thorny shoots of anxiousness and impatience sprouting from the soil of my weariness and discomfort. I find myself wanting to rush through this time, to just get to wherever we’re headed. At times, I catch myself wistfully looking back to how things were before the whole world shut down and wishing we could go back. Can you relate?

What’s ironic is that as uncomfortable as the journey became for the Israelites, as much as they wished to rush through it or turn back, that time of walking with God in the wilderness was one of the most formative seasons in their history, one which caused their faith in God to grow exponentially. In the soil of their discomfort, they learned dependence and trust. And they saw just how much God loved them. It was a lesson that shaped them as a people for generations.

I am weary of the journey. I’d love to just fast-forward to 2021, skipping past the whole Covid-shutdown, the racial unrest and the election. But as much as those things feel overwhelming and the road seems endless, I’m reminded that we don’t journey through this wilderness alone. God is right here with us, leading the way if we will only look to Him. He’s providing what we need in the midst of a season of scarcity. And I suspect that when we look back on this time, years from now, we will be grateful for it, grateful both for where He’s bringing us and for what He’s doing in us along the way.

Because sometimes the most important part of a journey isn’t the destination; it’s about being present with the ones who are with us along the way.
 

So do not fear, for I am with you; 

do not be dismayed, for I am your God. 

I will strengthen you and help you; 

I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. 

(Isaiah 41:10)

“We’re in this together.”

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard this over the last several months, or how many times I’ve said it myself. And yet, like runners in a marathon, our exhaustion narrows our focus and makes us feel like we’re alone in our suffering.

We are all tired. We’re all grieving losses. We are all feeling the effects of forced isolation. Forget thriving, we’re just struggling to survive with our sanity intact.

And we all have some things we wish for right about now:

• I wish someone would call. I really need someone to talk to.

• I wish I could borrow someone’s hope. I could use some encouragement.

• I wish people would be kind to one another. Why does everything turn into a fight?

• I wish I had someone to process with. Someone that wouldn’t judge me for being in process.

But the phone’s not ringing and most of the places we’d go for human interaction are closed due to Covid. So we turn to social media for a hit of community, for a reminder that we’re not alone, even though it can be incredibly impersonal and often degenerates into arguments. But at least it’s better than feeling alone, right?

Loneliness and isolation are some of the most damaging side-effects of this shutdown, and they’re causing huge spikes in addiction, depression, domestic violence and suicide. Something has to change. Someone needs to address this epidemic. But rather than wait for some politician or doctor to come up with a solution, what if we are the solution?

What if we become the sort of people who give to others what we need ourselves? 

• Rather than sit back and wait for the phone to ring, what if we pick up the phone and begin to reach out to people we haven’t seen in a while?

• Rather than lament a society that seems to have lost its ability to listen without attacking, what if we become the sort of people who listen – truly listen – with the intent to understand, not simply to find the flaw in their thinking.

• Rather than adding to the cacophony of criticism and critique that is dominating our public discourse, what if we go out of our way to speak words of life, to build people up rather than tear them down?

• And if we can’t think of anything nice to say, what if we practiced what we’ve been preaching to our kids all these years and didn’t say anything at all? Or better yet, what if we took our frustration and used it as a prompt to pray for God’s blessing upon those who disagree with us? 

This approach may not change the world, but it would certainly change our posture towards it. It may not eradicate loneliness, depression, or division from society, but it would make a huge difference to our sphere of influence. Just think of the effect of a single candle in a dark room. A little light goes a long way.

Jesus said it best: “Do to others whatever you would like them to do to you. This is the essence of all that is taught in the law and the prophets” (Matthew 7:12). In other words, giving others what we’d like from them is the best way to reflect the heart of God into our hurting world.

So rather than focus on what’s wrong with society, rather than lament that people aren’t giving us what we need, let’s be part of the solution. Let’s give what we need.

After all, we’re in this together.

There’s been a lot of talk about the Governor’s decision to ban singing and chanting in church gatherings in his efforts to stem the spread of Covid-19. Many understandably view this as an attack on our First Amendment right to worship. That said, if we view a ban on singing in a sanctuary as a ban on worship, then we have a pretty anemic view of worship.

Worship is so much more than songs. It’s the way we live, the way we speak, the way we interact with people who don’t share the same worldview as us. The Apostle Paul got this. In his letter to believers living in Rome, he defined worship in this way: “I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship” (Romans 12:1).

Similarly, when James, the leader of the church in Jerusalem, wrote to believers living among an unbelieving world, this is how he defined the purest form of religious expression: “Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world” (James 1:27).

While we think of worship as singing songs of praise, the giants of faith in the early church recognized that true worship was lived out throughout the week. It was choosing to let our lives become a reflection of our Creator’s heart. Since God showed grace to imperfect people like us, worship is extending grace to other imperfect people. Since He loves us despite our rebellious nature, worship is choosing to love others even when they tick us off. Since He constantly provides for us, worship is taking from the abundance of blessing He’s given us and using it to care for the needs of others. And that sort of worship is best done beyond the walls of the church.

So while I miss singing songs of praise alongside my brothers and sisters in Christ and look forward to the day when we can gather together again, I rejoice in the myriad ways I’m seeing the Church (God’s people) worshiping God through the ways they love their neighbors. Because true worship is so much more than the songs we sing on Sunday morning. True worship is the life we live the rest of the week. And that’s something that cannot be banned. Nor is it something that can be contained in a weekend service - it has to spill over into every other part of our lives.

So let’s let our lives sing.

Becoming a Light in Your Neighborhood

Lighthouse Family,

We started this year with a fresh understanding of what it meant to be a Light in our community. Rather than focus on the church being the Lighthouse, we realized that each of us is a light-bearer to our own unique Sphere of Influence.

At the time, we could have never anticipated what this year would hold in store for us. The Covid-19 virus has completely altered our rhythms and the way we "do life" together. But it hasn't been all bad.

I recently learned that the Chinese word for Crisis is the combination of two words: Danger and Opportunity. That is a fitting description of this current crisis for the Church in Costa Mesa. For all the hardship and danger this season has brought, I've also seen so much fruit, so many opportunities to learn a new way to love our neighbors.

I want to share with you one new way we can be a light in our communities. For the last six months, I have been a part of Bless Every Home, an outreach app that gives me tools to pray for my neighbors by name (along with a whole lot of other resources that I'm only now learning to appreciate). It is such a powerful tool that I, along with several other pastors in our city, have decided to make it a central component of our outreach efforts.

Rather than attempt to explain what Bless Every Home can do, I'd rather show you. So please click the link below, which will take you to a 2-minute introduction video that will explain what this powerful tool can do for you. Then, if you choose to, you can sign up to be a "light."

Thanks again for being a partner with me in radiating the light of Christ into our community. I'm grateful to know that we're in this together. Here's the link to sign up now.

May God bless you as you bless your neighbors, 

Eric Wayman 

Lighthouse Community Church