Percy Jackson's Lotus Cookie Slumber

I recently saw Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Lightning Thief. It’s the story of Percy, a demi-god whose father is Posiedon, the god of water. Posiedon’s brothers (Zeus and Hades) believe that Percy has stolen Zeus’ lightning bolt, and now Percy must find the true culprit and rescue his mother from Hades’ prison in Hell before the deadline is up. So he and his two friends set out on a journey that leads them through encounters with dangers, excitement and evil gods.

In one particular adventure they must visit a casino in Las Vegas to recover a pearl that will help them out of Hell once they get there. As soon as they enter the casino, they are bombarded with waitresses offering them pink, flower-shaped Lotus cookies. They hesitate at first but eventually succumb to the scrumptious treat.

As they bite into the cookie they discover it is the most delicious treat they have ever tasted. At once they forget their original purpose. They forget about the pearl. They forget about Percy’s mom. They lose track of time. Instead they believe their sole purpose is to have fun. So they set out on evening of gambling, laughing, playing games. All the while consuming more of the special pink cookies.

After awhile Percy hears his father’s voice, “Percy, you must wake up. Don’t eat another cookie.” Percy slowly wakes from his slumber to realize the delicious treats had lulled him and his friends to sleep, away from reality, away from their mission. Though it only seemed like an hour to them they wake to realize they had “slept” for days and now they were upon their deadline. The gods had deceived them.

As I watched this scene I thought of how too the enemy of our souls lulls us to sleep. How many things in our lives serve as Lotus cookies? How often, for example, television invites us to sit down, take a rest from our busy days, only to find we’ve spent our whole evenings lost in a world of fiction. Or, how often does alcohol beckon just one drink and then just one more. An hour of relaxing becomes another night of partying in which we’ve shirked responsibility. Lotus cookies can come in many forms—romance, fit bodies, sex, wealth, living the American dream, comfort, happiness. Like Percy and his friends, when we consume too much of these pleasantries, they can take control of our hearts, singing our minds to sleep.

These potential idols have the power to distract us, to pull us away from our true purpose. We don’t exist to have fun. Our purpose is not to find the one true love. Meaning does not result from having purchased a flat screen T.V. over which we can spend all evening watching sports or sitcoms or so-called reality shows.

So like Poseidon’s father, the Holy Spirit whispers to us, “Awake sleeper, and arise from the dead and Christ will shine on you” (Eph 5:14). Many of us have fallen asleep. We have lost sight of our purpose. The things of the world, the things of comfort and ease, the pursuit of the American dream has cast a drowsy spell on us. Paul reminds us that our purpose is to “be imitators of God, as beloved children; and walk in love, just as Christ also loved you and gave Himself up for us, an offering and a sacrifice to God as a fragrant aroma” (Eph 5:1, 2).

We are on a mission to live for the glory of God, to reveal His love, mercy, justice and hope to the people in our world. Paul warns us to “be careful how [we] walk, not as unwise men but as wise, making the most of [our] time, because the days are evil” (Eph 5:15, 16). How often, I wonder, do I live as an unwise person because I waste my life on things that don’t ultimately matter? Watching a T.V. show in and of itself is not evil, though it can be. Drinking a glass of wine is not a sin and seeking to be physically is not mere vanity.

I just wonder, however, as I examine my own life and the culture of the American church if many of us have fallen asleep. Are we making the most of our time? Instead of investing our hours in TNT dramas or late nights at the office, should we perhaps spend our time in pursuits such as, serving the homeless, mentoring a college student, mowing a neighbor’s yard, conversing with our family at dinner, coaching a basketball team in the inner-city?

As those on a mission to reveal Christ to the world, we ought to live as He would live. Would Jesus spend most of His evenings watching sitcoms or reviewing reports at the office or spending hours playing the Wii?* I just can’t imagine the answer is yes. With Christ as our Teacher, then, why should we live any differently?

So let us not slumber. Let us give heed to the Spirit’s whisper. Let us wake. And let us continue on this adventure of living for the glory of God, of seeking His kingdom, of fighting the good fight of faith. For we know that “all that is the world, the lust of the flesh and the lust of the eyes and the boastful pride of life, is not from the Father, but is from the world. The world is passing away, and also its lusts; but the one who does the will of God lives forever” (I John 2:17).

*I do believe that if Jesus were in human form today He might very well play video games, especially with a group of people. Christ focused on building relationships, and I think He could enjoy playing Super Mario Bros with some buddies. But I don’t think He would continually spend hours lost in the world of fantasy to the exclusion of present-day realities, like caring for the poor, helping the needy, and developing the spiritual growth of others.

A Refuge For Our Hearts

“Trust in Him at all times, O people; pour out your heart before Him; God is a refuge for us (Ps 62:8).”

I find it difficult to trust God. I find faith challenging. I wonder at David’s charge to trust God at all times. Trust God in the midst of the divorce. Trust God in the midst of financial ruin. Trust God in the midst of the job loss. Trust God in the midst of natural disaster. Trust God in the midst of physical, emotional or sexual abuse. How is that possible?

David, who exhorts us, did not lead an enchanted life. He knew well suffering, fear, grief, angst, trauma. For years David lived and served King Saul who repeatedly abused him with his words and actions. Saul not only threatened David’s life but attempted to murder him, to destroy him. David eventually fled for his life and lived on the run for many years. He hid in caves. He feared for his life. And yet in the midst of all this he had the courage to believe. He hoped for deliverance. He trusted God. He rested in His salvation and loyal love.

I wonder how. But his faith didn't mean he never struggled to understand God in the midst of the strife. His psalms of lament capture his frustration, dread and concern. Maybe that is where I err. Maybe I confuse my questions for a lack of faith. Perhaps then what separates those with faith and those with unbelief is not confusion, struggles or doubts but rather where we take these frustrations and sorrows. David exhorts us to pour our hearts—with all their anger, sorrow, fear—before God. To himself he writes, “My soul, wait in silence for God only, for my hope is from Him” (Ps 62:5). For God only. When he felt overwhelmed he ran to God. How often I tend to run to other people and things.

So where do we find our refuge? Television? Alcohol? Food? A busy schedule? A person? David found hope in God. He took shelter in Him. We must remember, however, that a refuge doesn’t make the storm stop; rather, it provides shelter as the storm rages. Shelter as you clean out your desk at work. Shelter as you sign the papers. Shelter as the bruises surface.

In the midst of whatever we may be facing, let us found the courage to bear our hearts before God. Let us dare to hope in His unfailing love. Despite the confusion we may feel or the anger we may have towards Him, let us pour these out at into His arms of grace. May we have assurance knowing that David, a man after God’s own heart, also struggled with God. Yet he still came to Him. And that made all the difference. In coming he received peace, love, hope.

Digging Up Buried Treasure

Growing up, my best friend and I would dig up our backyards in hope of discovering buried treasure. We dreamt about unearthing bones, gold, treasure maps. With our hands and sticks, we eagerly dug, convinced we would happen upon an artifact no one had ever seen. Though we never found Native American paraphernalia or Black Beard’s gold, we reveled in the hope of uncovering a mystery.

As adults not many of us still look for buried treasure. But this is exactly what Solomon invites us to do when he writes of wisdom, “If you seek her as silver and search for her as for hidden treasures, then you will discern the fear of the LORD and discover the knowledge of God” (Prov 2:4, 5 NASB). Seek for wisdom as financial gain. Pan for her like gold. Dig for her like dinosaur bones. God desires that we answer His call to come seek for wisdom, and in so doing discover Him.

So what if we began to view the book of Proverbs, Wisdom literature, and Scripture itself as one big backyard full of possibilities? What if we grabbed our friends and with open hearts and minds began to unearth the hidden treasures God breathed? In so doing we can happen upon the very knowledge of God.

Let us then say our amen to Paul’s prayer for each other and for ourselves, we "pray for you and ask that you may be filled with the knowledge of His will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding, so that you will walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, to please Him in all respects, bearing fruit in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God” (Col 1:9, 10). Grab your Bible. Get some friends together. It's time to go treasure hunting.

Finding Meaning

I long for my life to have impact. I want to touch people’s souls, helping fuel a passion, a longing for God, and to bring hope in the midst of this cold world. But so often I hide behind a desk, a computer, a T.V. screen. I seek for purpose in career pursuits, in a relationship, in outward appearances. In fairness, I also seek meaning in drawing close to God (the reason for my, along with all of creation, existence). But I lose focus in the solitary moments of Bible study and prayer. God didn’t create me to live with just Him. God had dreams of a huge family. In fact, He ordered Adam and Eve to fill the earth with people. People who work together, eat together, serve together, hang out with God together.

We exist in relationships. From the very beginning God, who exists eternally in relationship (Father, Son, Spirit), created us in a similar state. He said, “Let us make man in Our image,” so “God created man in His own image, in the image of God He created them; male and female He created them” (Gen 1:26, 27). He didn’t make just Adam or just Eve. He made them both and told them to make more people. They were created to live and to love together and to do so with God. And in this—eating, working, laughing—they imaged their Maker. That is, they lived out their purpose.

To live, it seems, is to relate. But true relating isn’t merely about doing things with others (though this is a big part of life), but about being with others. It’s about letting our lives—the good, the bad, the joys, the sorrows, the fears, the hopes, the confusion, the peace—come in contact with the messy yet redeemed lives of others. God did not make us to exist on our own. We need both Him and His people. If we aren’t engaging with others we aren’t living.

As such my quest for meaning leads me to examine my relationships. To have impact, I must relate. I must bare my soul and risk being known. In so doing, I have the hope of others seeing the grace of God as He restores my fallen heart. I also have the hope of another soul bared open to me. And these exchanges come with power. They spur on fellow image-bearers to love and to worship. Meaningful lives form as we give ourselves to others in love, sacrifice and hope.

Paul writes, “If I have the gift of prophecy, and know all mysteries and all knowledge; and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. And if I give all my possessions to feed the poor, and if I surrender my body to be burned, but do not have love, it profits me nothing” (I Cor 13:2, 3). If we give our money and time without giving our hearts, it’s in vain. Gifts, talents and resources may provide temporary purpose, but ultimately our lives are only as meaningful as the relationships we have and the impact we make on other people's lives.

A Transforming Gaze

She had run out of options. She had gone everywhere for help and found none. She had spent all her money and received nothing. No answers, no healing, no hope. Empty-handed, hurting, and desperate for help. That is how she came, the woman with a hemorrhage that would not stop (Mark 5:24-34).

In what may have been her last attempt for a cure, this nameless woman came to Jesus. And that’s exactly what she hoped to remain: nameless, unseen, in and out without hassle. As the crowd pressed in and Jesus passed by, she silently reached out. She hoped any contact with Him would bring healing. So with ferocity of faith she extended her hand.

And in an instant it happened. Years of misery ended. It seemed she had gotten what she came for and escaped unnoticed. Jesus, however, wanted to know who He had healed. He didn't want to provide an impersonal miracle. He wanted to see her face. Or maybe He wanted her to see His face looking at hers, His eyes penetrating into her broken heart, “You are loved. You are whole.”

I wonder if this is what He wants for you and me to experience as well. We too have a rupture, a spiritual tear. We bleed sin inside with nothing to stop its flow. This same sin has eroded our clotting devices. And often we spend our time, money, and energy looking to the physicians of comfort and security (money, relationships, sex, food, career, the "good life") and come away empty-handed and unchanged. We feel desperate for hope, for a cure for our empty and longing hearts, for a remedy for our self-centered and self-seeking ways. We have but one option left, Jesus.

Much like this woman reached out for His cloak, we only have to gaze upon Christ’s sacrifice in faith and be healed. In Him, God delivered us from our sin disease. Our penalty paid in full. The hemorrhage of sin ceased. But just like Jesus didn’t let this woman slip away unnoticed, He calls out to us. He beckons us to look up and see His merciful and compassionate eyes staring back, “You are clean. You are forgiven. You are loved.”

And it is this knowledge that sets free, that transforms. Paul writes, “But we all with unveiled face, beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, just as from the Lord, the Spirit” (II Cor 3:18). By looking into the mirror-image of God in Christ, His love changes us. We know we are known and still desired.

If you, like me, find yourself yearning for heart change, perhaps we need to spend more time gazing into the eyes of Christ. Let us, like this woman, find the courage to come despite our shame, discomfort and fear. May we echo with the psalmist, “When you said, ‘Seek My face,’ my heart said to You, ‘Your face, O LORD, I shall seek’” (Ps 27:8).

Simple Joy :: YouPublish

Check out my article on the art of journaling on the online magazine for women, "Simple Joy".

Simple Joy :: YouPublish

Friends, Food and Pharisees

Think of the last time you had dinner with friends. You probably enjoyed good conversation, good laughs and hopefully good food. So too Jesus found Himself dining with some friends one evening. I envision Him sitting back, sipping on wine, soaking in the laughter from jokes exchanged. That is, until the scribes showed up.

According to them Jesus made a poor choice in dinner companions. Shocked they ask His disciples, “Why is He eating and drinking with tax collectors and sinners” (Mark 2:16)? Consumed with self-righteousness, they couldn’t understand why Jesus ate with these people. Why would He associate with such lowly-men, such dirty people? Why not keep Himself clean?

Jesus overhears their question, and answers “It is not those who are healthy who need a physician, but those who are sick; I did not come to call the righteous, but sinners” (Mark 2:17). I can’t help but wonder what His dinner guests thought as He said this, especially His disciples.

Were they surprised that Jesus called them sinners? Confused that He said they were in fact not righteous? Offended He thought of them as ill patients in need of a doctor? Hadn’t He called them because He had seen potential in them?

Perhaps Simon thought Jesus chose him because of his fisherman qualities. Jesus said He would make him into a fisherman of people (Mark 1:17). Maybe he thought his skills transferred over to the bigger fish of humans and Jesus chose him for these abilities.

I don’t know what Simon felt, but I know I would have lifted a confused eyebrow. Maybe that’s because I want to think Jesus chose me because of something unique in me, something good.

Listening in on this dinner-table conversation has humbled my heart. I’m reminded that there is nothing in me that makes God want me. He chose me because I’m sick, because I’m in need, because my heart is weak, dark and twisted. He came to me, to all of us, because of one reason— His love. Paul says it this way, “But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us” (Rom 5:8).

We cannot heal ourselves. We’re too broken, too marred, too full of sin. Our hearts are void of righteousness. We need the scarred hands of a Physician who can cleanse and mend what no other doctor can. He calls us to Himself and heals our mortal wound, wipes away the effects of the disease and restores our life to Him.

With humble hearts, weak and needy, let us find ourselves feasting at His table. He invites us to dine on His healing love free of charge (Is 55:1), His grace curing our hearts.