Magnify your savior, not your sufferings

INTRO

As a child, I loved playing with toys. My toy box was full of characters such as Optimus Prime, Spiderman, and G.I. Joe. My imagination allowed me to build worlds and complete self-appointed missions. One day, I could be a firefighter. Another day, I could be an astronaut. But of all my toys, I remember one little toy that allowed me to see the world from a different angle. That toy was my magnifying glass. I felt so powerful with it. I remember watching movies, depicting teenage boys using magnifying glasses to burn bugs. I also remember shows of detectives using magnifying glasses to make them look slick and observe the evidence of a crime scene. So you can imagine the fun I would have with my magnifying glass.

I remember using my magnifying glass to observe the details in rocks and in leaves. Nooks and crannies in these every day objects seemed to wondrous to my young eye. Items that seem so normal to the naked eye can seem wondrous under a magnifying glass. Whatever I put my magnifying glass on top of, I was able to learn of it. There’s something important that I realize about my magnifying glass. My magnifying glass never changed the size of the item I was looking at. None of the rocks actually got bigger. None of the leaves actually grew. None of the bugs actually changed shape. My magnifying glass simply changed my perspective. Magnification doesn’t change what you’re seeing, but how you’re seeing it.

Let us all turn our attention to Psalm 34.

BODY

The book of Psalms is a book about praise, grief, and everything in between. It was known to be the prayer book of the children of Israel. Families would gather together to not only sing these songs to the Lord, but the express them as a form of prayer. These Psalms portrayed the breadth of human life, using metaphor, allegory, poetry, and song. Sometimes, words alone are unable to adequately describe what we are actually experiencing. As a whole, the book is broken up into 5 major sections. Ancient Hebrews described these sections as books. While it may seem that these Psalms are randomly placed, each chapter in the book of Psalms is intentionally placed to tell one story: God reigns as King of the earth.

Psalm 34 is a chapter that was written by the hand of King David. It is believed that David is writing this Psalm after a potentially life-threatening situation. He was “saved by the bell”, if you will. In moments of fear, David must have felt utter relief.

Recently, God called my wife and I to pick up our stuff, and move across the country. For the past four years, we had been in the city of Fort Myers, Florida. There, I was the Associate Pastor of the Fort Myers Seventh-day Adventist Church. It was my very first church to start pastoral ministry. And I am so glad it was. We were able to learn how to love, pastor, and cry. We walked so nearly with people that we got to see the true nature of human life. With that community, we learned how to be a married couple, braced a global pandemic, and rebuilt after a catastrophic hurricane. It seemed like life was terrible, but God had us all in His hands. 2022 was soon coming to a close, and my Senior Pastor and I had amazing plans for 2023. We had only been working together about a year at that point, and, by God’s grace, and we had already accomplished so much together. But in December of 2022, I received a clear sign from God that it was time to go. You see, nothing bad had happened at the church. Relationships were awesome. Ministries were thriving. Life was going so amazing. But God had different plans. God has made it clear that it was time to move. We didn’t know where yet, but eventually, God made it clear that it was time to move back home to Southern California.

In faith, we decided to trust God and move forward with His calling. But, man, was that transition difficult. Everyone tells you that pastors move a lot, but nobody tells you how expensive it is to move. Everyone tells you that pastors move a lot, but nobody tells you the emotional toll it takes on your family. Everyone tells you that pastors move a lot, but nobody tells you how spiritually draining it is to break the news to your church. Nobody tells you how much suffering you experience in a season of transition.

Fast forward a bit in time. Interviews were conducted. Good bye parties were thrown. Many, many tears were cried. Our house was packed. The moving truck is already on its way. My wife and I are now on our road trip to California. We drove a total of 38 hours across the United States of America. It was quite the journey. A trip of this magnitude is something to be grateful for. But to be honest, there were many times I was focusing too much on my personal suffering. Thoughts were racing through my head as I was trying to figure out how to pay certain bills, reestablish myself in a new congregation, learn how to live in a new city. Thoughts of doubt were racing through my mind. There were ample moments of impostor syndrome and shame. “Why are you doing this?” “What’s the point?” “Why did you do this to your family?” were all questions that were running through my mind. I was magnifying my sufferings.

Our final day of driving arrives, and we finally cross the California border. With 6 hours left in our drive, we come across a dessert valley that has stunning views. To some, this is the “boring” part of the drive. To me, it was a divine experience. For the first time in months, I felt small. I felt like a drop of rain in the palm of a Mighty Hand. It was not a sense of fear, but a sense of belonging. There was stillness in my mind. No thoughts of doubt, no questions, no shame. Nothing but the breadth of the valley. Truly, I am not able to describe how I felt. But I am able to describe what God was telling me. In that moment, it was utterly clear that God was reminding me to keep my eyes on Him, not on myself.

For too long, I was focusing on my performance. For too long, I was focusing on my ability to make ends meet. For too long, I was focusing on my personal skill set. For too long, I was not focusing on the might of my Jesus. But in some desert valley along the 8 West Freeway in California, my Jesus reminded me to magnify Him, and not my sufferings.

Today, I am two months into this new season. I am not here, saying that I have it all figured out. But I am here, saying that I am held by my Savior. I am not here, saying that I have perfectly met all of my expectations. But I am here, saying that my Jesus has taken care of everything. I am not here, saying that my suffering is one. But I am here, saying that my Savior is stronger than my sufferings.

Today, I choose to magnify my Savior, and not my sufferings.

CONCLUSION