Do you ever feel like if you just make it over the next hurdle or reach your next goal that you will have finally arrived in life? Many people do, including our Biblical friends, but guess what? That’s called the arrival fallacy, and it can keep us feeling disappointed and unhappy when we get to the “next thing” and find we still haven’t arrived at our hoped-for destination. We are still unfailingly human, flawed, broken.
This Lent, let us learn to savor our uniquely human journey without the pressure of arrival, as we reconnect with the God of Jesus Christ who leads us in the way, providing sustenance, meaning, and hope through all our ups and downs.
When we are drowning in problems, it can be tempting to think we can solve them all if we just try hard enough. In Lent, we are reminded that we are only human; to move through our struggles, we must turn to a power far greater than ours.
Like the Israelites who were freed from Egypt only to find themselves without drinkable water, we too can find ourselves freed from one trouble only to be met with another. God invites us to shift perspective and find our freedom in relationship with God.
We can work for weeks, months, even years to arrive at a certain point in life, our own “Promised Land.” But sometimes that Promised Land is not what we envisioned. Sometimes we don’t even make it there. And even when we do, the Promised Land is not the end of the journey. How can we let God reshape our vision of both the destination and the journey so that we can find beauty and meaning in all of it?
When we are dissatisfied, the idea of a strong new leader can seem like our only hope to get where we want to go. But the story of the Israelite people and their demand for a king is a powerful reminder that leaders are all too human and that we must place our ultimate hope in God, the true King.
Sometimes we think that everything will be fine if we can just go back to the way things were, but the present will never be the past. The good news is that God is in what was, what is, and what will be.
Just when we think we have it all figured out – the right job, the right routine, the right way of doing things – Jesus comes in and upends our certainty, always moving us into deeper truth, justice, and relationship.
Everyone loves a parade but what happens when the party is over? Real hope is built in daily acts of showing up – in times of celebration, in times of challenge, and in the ordinary in-between.
Jesus’ cross feels like the worst kind of arrival; it bears the finality of death. When “arriving” means there is nowhere left to go, Jesus remains with us holding the promise that even this is not our final stop.
Death is not our final arrival. Jesus lives and so do we. He sends us out on the journey anew and promises to be with us the whole way.