July 4, 2022

Faith's habit of YES

I feel out of step to write to many of you—(Americans)—about something unrelated to today’s national holiday of American independence. But I suppose this is to say that I am now, and might forever be, out of step with my home country. I’ve been away from the U.S. for eleven years.

In five days, I will return to make my home there. That won’t be without unease, I admit. Unease, of course, isn’t the same think as uncertainty. No, Ryan and I are quite sure that going back to the United States to care for our aging parents is exactly what God has for us in this season of faith.

I know I write a lot about the habits of faith here, and I’m quite sure I’ve shared this quote with you before from Robert Farrar Capon’s The Parables of the Kingdom. But as I was cleaning my office and packing my large tote with the books I wanted to make sure to have on hand for this next month of transition (The One-Year Bible; John Baillie’s A Diary of Private Prayer; Jake Meador’s In Search of the Common Good; Kyle David Bennett’s Practices of Love; Anne Porter’s Living Things; Carol Shields’s The Box Garden; Kazuo Ishiguro’s The Buried Giant; Emily P. Freeman’s The Next Right Thing Journal), I came across this post-it note with Capon’s words:

What saves us is Jesus, and the way we lay hold of that salvation is by faith. And faith is something that, throughout this book, I shall resolutely refuse to let mean anything other than trusting Jesus. It is simply saying yes to him rather than no.

Faith, as New Testament scholar Nijay Gupta has written, is best translated as believing trust. Faith says: God, wherever you lead, whatever you do, I trust it’s good. Faith says yes.

As we’ve navigated this last year of discernment—with at least a mustard seed of believing trust—here are some things I think we’ve learned along the way.

1.     God provides others to lean upon for wisdom and support.

I wish I could tell you more about the small village of people who have helped us over the last year, especially those who have come alongside in the last month since the death of my mother’s husband. It reminds me that God’s help to us comes very often through the hands of others. It’s hard to receive the kindness and generosity of others—and in difficult seasons, so very necessary.

2.     I have real limits. Acknowledging them is a gift to myself and others.

In saying yes to Jesus, we aren’t saying yes to heroism. Dependence is such an integral part of the life of faith, and until we meet our limits, we often refuse dependence on others, even on God. It’s good and right to understand our creatureliness, to admit that even in the midst of taking up the demands of love, we can’t carry everything. (See Ashley Hales’s book, The Spacious Life, for an extended exploration on the goodness of limits.)

3.     Believing trust is often a waiting game.

This last year has been a practice of waiting on God to provide. There are things we’ve needed, things that no amount of money or savvy or hard work could make happen. So: we waited. We waited and prayed. And yes, sometimes we despaired. But I want to say very clearly that God has provided. Not all that we asked, no. But all that we need. Last week I wrote this on the top of my weekly calendar: “How good to say praises to our God! How delightful and how fitting!” (Psalm 147:1).

In this letter, I’m bearing witness to the sufficiency of God in difficult, anxious seasons—and the peace that believing trust in Jesus secures.

I’m not sure what the next several weeks hold, whether I’ll find time to update you here. But don’t worry because I’ll be back soon, bugging you to consider pre-ordering my next book, In Good Time: 8 habits for reimagining productivity, resisting hurry, and practicing peace.

Yours,

Jen

P.S. I’ve also written recently for Christianity Today about my pro-life commitments. If you’re interested, you can find that article here.