Scarcity and Abundance

Hello again everyone,

It surely feels like more than six weeks since I last wrote. Whereas we were in the ongoing (!) throes of winter in the midwest, now the sun is shining; flowers are blooming, and I'm finally wearing shorts and flip-flops again! Six weeks ago, Steph and I were still in the second trimester and the birth of our baby girl felt like something in the distant future. Now, we are just over a month out, and let's just say the reality of a two-child household is beginning to settle in a bit!

As with all of our lives, words on a page (or a screen!) don't do justice to the complexity of God's work within us, but this last season has felt like a particularly significant one for me in my journey with Jesus; the operative word has been "scarcity", and though it has been rich, it has been difficult as well.

Back in January, I was leading an area meeting in Des Moines, and we were spending some time in listening prayer ministry for each other. When it was my turn to sit in the circle, my staff started praying some of the things that they heard Jesus telling them:
* One saw an image of a tree surrounded by thunderstorms. She prayed that my roots would go down deeper.
* One was led to Habakkuk 3.17-18: "Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the LORD, I will be joyful in God my savior."

To be honest, I was glad for their prayer, but I was a bit worried by the ominous tone. What exactly was this next season of life going to be like? Fruitless? Stormy? Barren? While I was certainly a bit taken aback, I was also captured by the last half of the Habakkuk verse: "yet I will rejoice in the LORD".

For most of my life, I have been addicted to success and impact. Though I'm sure there were moments my parents might call to mind, I was a pretty good kid who did pretty well at most of life, and this continued in college. I was blessed with an awesome group of friends and a vibrant ministry to be a part of, and I got a picture of how compelling a life lived with Jesus could be. I absolutely loved doing ministry as a student: I loved influencing people's lives, I loved teaching, and I loved impacting a campus for Jesus.

In large part, it was this desire for influence and impact that led me to InterVarsity staff. What I wanted most was to live a life of rich purpose and expansive impact, and Christian ministry (maybe even following Jesus itself?!)became a means to that end. Sure, I wanted to have spiritual integrity, and my motives were mostly pure, but to a degree my "ministry" was largely an exercise in building my own kingdom. "Success" (whatever that meant) was what I wanted more than anything else.

I think Jesus is breaking me of this addiction to success.

The process has been long and has taken many turns, but this last semester, I believe the pace has been quickened. Whether it's through anticipating our most significant staff shortage in years in Iowa (only 8 staff for 7 chapters), facing the difficulty of fund raising for me and my staff, working through the complexity of contextualization on campus, or trying to be a great husband and father, I've found myself facing my own limitations more and more. At the end of the day, I am just not enough for the demands of my life, and at times, I feel as though the resources I need are miles away. ("There is no fruit on the vine!")

Yet, Jesus is working his resurrection in me (and us!) again. Whereas before my desire was for success and the boost it would give to my reputation, I now find my desires being purifed. Jesus is reclaiming his rightful territory at the center of my life and ministry, and though it is painful and stretching, I've said "yes" over and over again to his work in me, because HE is the one I want to want. Jesus is worth more than success. His presence is more valuable than hundreds of staff or chapters, or conversions, or talks. He is the "pearl of great price", and I would do well to "sell all I have" to "buy that field". (Matthew 13.44-46)

So, in this season of scarcity, may it be true of me that "yet I will rejoice in God my savior", and may we all receive scarcity as an opportunity for reliance on the one who raises the dead.

In Him,
Jon