"Then They Believed…"

As I read John 2:12-25 this morning and tried to discern what God might be asking me to hear and do, I secretly hoped I’d receive instructions to do some “temple cleansing.”

I was raised to respect the sanctuary, so it drives me nuts to see a student (or adult!) texting during the service, getting a back rub, putting feet up on the pew in front (!), and generally acting as if the only thing that matters in the world is, oh, SELF. Doing a little “whipping into shape” sounds v-e-r-y appealing.

However, I am not the Son of God. And while I know God wants me to have zeal for his house, He’s been pretty clear that I’m not to start braiding cords any time soon.

In fact, the portion that really hit home is in verse 22, which says “After He was raised from the dead, his disciples recalled what he had said. Then they believed the scripture and the words that Jesus had spoken.”

The disciples saw Jesus take action and heard him say words that made no sense for over three years. Three years! They had to live for three full years wondering, “What was that all about? Do you get it? I don’t get it. Didn’t make sense to me either.” And they were living with Jesus, traveling with Jesus, eating and drinking with Jesus.

If guys who spent that kind of time with Jesus didn’t understand what he meant until three years later, then perhaps God is telling me one of two things (or both!):

First, I need to be a little (!) more patient when I don’t understand what He’s doing.

And second, I need to spend a lot more time with Him in order to better see and hear and comprehend. Typically, I want to know up front! Not that I’d actually say this, but the underlying message is, “God, let me know the bottom line, and then I’ll hang out with you. But if you don’t tell me, I won’t give you the time of day.” No, of course I would never actually pray or say or even think (?!) these actual words. But live them? If I’m honest, absolutely.

So, putting this into practice, I’m looking back three and a half years, to when we got the news that we’d be leaving Southern California.

My husband, Daniel, was torn; although we were moving to his beloved alma mater, he was leaving behind his gospel quartet and looking at unemployment for the first time in his life.

Our daughter, Annemarie, was devastated; she was leaving her best friend in the whole wide world.

Our son, Jonathon, was quiet about the move, but we all worried about him; we didn’t know where he’d finish 8th grade or how he’d do without his “Three Musketeers” buddies he’d known since first grade.

And me? I was apprehensive; I’d be teaching classes I’d never taught before in a school twice the size of anywhere I’d ever taught!

As a family, we were leaving behind so much: The school we’d been at for fifteen years, the church we’d attended for almost that long, almost all of my relatives.

At the time, the move made no sense. We wondered constantly, “What is this all about? Do you get it? I don’t get it. Didn’t make sense to me either.” We made the move on faith, but we spent a lot of time in confusion.

After three and a half years, however, we see and understand so much that we simply couldn’t have at the time.

Daniel’s quartet would have disbanded within a year or two due to a plethora of life circumstances over which he had no control, but which he would have tried to “fix” with every ounce of strength he had. Instead, he spent two blessed years “on sabbatical,” renewing physical, mental, and spiritual strength that had been sapped during several very difficult years prior to the move.

Annemarie and Jonathon — as different as they are! — have both blossomed incredibly at MBA. They’ve made friends, gotten involved in music and service, and benefited from a host of Godly mentors.

And me? Because I’ve been pushed to grown and been supported in that growth, I’ve gotten out of the “rut” I was stuck in at my last school and am growing personally, spiritually, and professionally in ways that amaze me. My speaking ministry has gone from sporadic to a perpetually full calendar.

As a family, we were spared the wrenching experience of being present and involved when the church we’d attended since the kids were little experienced a split, with dear friends going opposite directions. If we’d been there when it happened, we would have tried to prevent it, tried to mediate between people, and it would have devastated all of us.

We also weren’t present when three full-time positions were eliminated from the school where we’d devoted almost our entire teaching lives. Two of those positions would have been ours, so we left before we were “let go” (which we would have internalized as “being fired.”)

The phrase I’m taking with me from my time in the Word today is “Then they believed.” It tells me that it’s okay to be confused. To not comprehend. To wonder. And it also tells me that at some point, at the right time, all will be revealed. And then I will believe even more than I do today.

So now, I’m looking forward three and a half years and getting excited about what I will know then, that I do not know now.

Then I will believe.

Yet again.

And even more!

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