A Passport Stamped by Mercy

The older I get, the less I seem to care what other people think about me.

Not completely — let’s be honest — but the grip of needing approval has definitely loosened. The hunger for pats on the back isn’t nearly as "rumbly" as it once was.

Something has slowly replaced it.

The more I’ve learned to believe what God says about me — how He values me, and the beauty of an identity rooted in Christ (not self-identity, Christ-identity) — the freer I’ve become to simply do what I’m called to do.

No nods in my direction required.

But that truth took a long time to travel from my head to my heart. Years, actually.

Which is why I can now say this without flinching:

Being a holy oddball is perfectly OK.

Actually… it’s worth CELEBRATING!

Because the Christian life was never meant to look normal. Scripture never promises cultural comfort. Instead it uses words like pilgrim, exile, stranger, foreigner, set apart, peculiar.

Not broken. Not misplaced. Not forgotten.

Just different — on purpose.

I’m walking through a world that doesn’t quite fit me anymore, and honestly, I won’t ever fit — and don’t want to! 

But that tension no longer unsettles me the way it used to, because I know where the road leads.

There is a place waiting — guarded, reserved, untouched by decay.
Imperishable (beyond the reach of change).
Undefiled (uncorruptible - imagine!).
Unfading (eternally vibrant and fresh, will not/can not disappear).

Peter explains why this isn’t wishful thinking:

“According to His great mercy, He has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ” (1 Peter 1:3)."

That sentence anchors everything.

My future isn’t based on personality, performance, usefulness, reputation, or how well I’m received. It rests entirely on the resurrection of Jesus and the mercy of God.

Just as Jesus encouraged Nicodemus, I’ve been born again — born into a new Kingdom. Not earned, not achieved, not maintained by good behavior, but given by grace through faith (Ephesians 2:8-9).

A gift.

Which means my citizenship changed long before my location ever will.  How about you? 

So yes… I’m becoming more comfortable being a holy oddball.

Not for attention.
Not out of pride.
Not to prove how different I am.

AND BY ALL MEANS NOT TO BE UNUSUAL FOR THE SAKE OF UNUSUALNESS!

But because when Christ becomes everything, you inevitably become different.

His Spirit reshapes your love, your want-to, your responses, your ambitions, your definitions of success. And, eventually, you realize: you’re living out of a different homeland-mindset while still residing here.

You still care about people — deeply.
You just stop needing them to validate you.

So today I’m praying you embrace your peculiarity with joy.

Not awkwardness.
Not defensiveness.
Joy.

Because the passport you carry here is temporary.

But the one stamped by Mercy?
That one never expires.

REFLECTION: 

By the way...Yesterday was the first day of Lent. This is a great season to evaluate where your journey ends? Where is your "real" passport country? What mind-set are you living out of?

 One of the best ways to survive living as a holy oddball is to imagine not just what Christ has done for you through salvation, but what you've been saved to - HEAVEN'S JOYS.

Living as Holy Oddballs

In less than two months, I’ll be heading out to speak at an event for women who serve internationally. Those who know me know I consider this to be my sweet spot. In spaces like this, I’ve found my niche—and for about ten days, I feel an unmistakable sense of belonging.

In many ways, it gives me a glimpse of what heaven might be like… that place I will ultimately call home, surrounded by my people.

And yet, it also vividly reminds me that—for now—this world is not my home.

As I’ve prayed about the messages I’ll bring to these women, I keep sensing that this is exactly where I need to land: acknowledging, claiming, and even pre-determining the “how-to” of living as outliers while we reside temporarily in this world.

I’ve chosen the book of 1 Peter as my primary biblical foundation, though from Genesis to Revelation this theme is everywhere. There’s no shortage of insight to glean. As I’ve bounced around Scripture, digging into the lives of formative individuals who add more insight to Peter’s words, one thing has become clear: not much has changed from the opening chapters of Genesis until now.

Human nature is remarkably consistent.

We are still deeply affected by what I’ll call the but-I-want-to-be-like-the-nations-around-me syndrome. Sadly, there is no vaccine for this disease.

I’m reminded of my children—when they were younger, of course—pleading their case with airtight logic: “But Mom, everybody’s going…doing…wearing…listening…watching…” I get it. None of us wants to stand out as peculiar.

And yet—Peter asks us to do exactly that; and, not only to embrace this identity, but to celebrate it. To make peace with it. To receive it as a gift (shocking, I know)!

In essence, Peter says to his audience as his letter is read aloud: God has called you out. He has chosen you. You are sojourners, exiles, foreigners—and you will be until heaven. Then he adds language that can definitely unsettle us: a holy nation, a peculiar people, pilgrims.

Lean into those words. Acknowledge them. Accept them.

You—and I—are privileged to be social misfits; for we are citizens of another Kingdom. Strangers here. We are meant to be uncomfortable, unsettled, non-conforming, different.

As I was writing this, I opened ChatGPT (my go-to research team) to ask for help with a title. I think I could hear "Chat" rolling on the floor laughing with the prompt response:

Living as Holy Oddballs

Well… there it is. And honestly, Chat might be right. There is much to think about when it comes to this identity—most importantly this question: 

What does it look like to live out our faith on foreign soil?

Let's explore this over a few Thursdays. This is a good space for me to process the messages I’ll be sharing (thanks!).

For now, I’ll leave you with one thought to ponder.

Years ago—probably back in the ancient era of 1976—I read a prayer and jotted it down in a journal I’ve held onto ever since. It reads:

“How can I stand, O God, for what I believe and not stand out as peculiar?
I don’t want to call attention to myself, cause trouble to others, or embarrass them;
but I do pray that through all the changes of life down to the gates of death,
You will keep me true to myself, true to those I love, and true to Thee. Amen.”

In light of 1 Peter, I now think this might be the wrong prayer to pray.

What if we reshaped this prayer to reflect the heart of God's servant writing to exiles scattered across Asia Minor?

O God of Exiles,
let me stand for what I believe without compromise,
knowing I will stand out as peculiar.
Set-apart people, by virtue of Your calling, will draw attention—
but may that focus quickly shift from me to You.
May others see Jesus in me.
And may I remain true to the convictions I hold,
loving You and loving others, and living holy, as I am called to do. Amen.

SIX WORDS FOR MY POCKET.

Six words stood out to me this morning.

Six words we need to tuck into our pocket—words to pull out when we need them most.

Six simple, not-so-random words:

The mighty hand of the Lord.

(thanks for the picture, Allison)

I’ve read those six words over and over again this week.

And then I started noticing the verbs attached to this Hand—verbs found in just four chapters of Exodus alone (13-16). This Hand (all on my behalf):

brings
leads
guides
lights
fights
hurls
saves
defends
covers
displays
shatters
throws down
unleashes
consumes
overtakes
destroys
works wonders
redeems
delivers
swallows
loves—unfailingly and steadfastly
establishes
plants
rules
heals
provides
protects
gives
creates
proves
shows;                                                                                                                                                          and, creates!                                                                                                                                                                     

What more do I really need in my pocket than these six words?

When I’m in the midst of chaos and confusion…

When fear threatens to consume…

When the enemy—whether tangibly real, or unseen principalities and powers (Ephesians 6)—presses in on my soul...

When disease ravages my body and old age begins to settle in…

What more do I need in the darkest of nights,
in the dead of winter,
in the driest desert,
in the shadowed valley of death,
in the depths of grief and loss…

When life turns out differently than I imagined, or expected it should be…

In these moments, I need to revisit these six words and pull them out of my jeans pocket.

They are more than comfort.
More than cheer.

And while they are worthy of celebration, they are more than whispered worship.

These words are life-breathing-assurances. A FAITHFUL PROMISE!

The God of the Mighty Hand is always with me.

And that Hand still moves on my behalf—
a reflection of His heart toward me.

Because hands do.

Hands act.
Hands move.                                                                                                                                             Hands work.

The Lord’s hands display His divine power—power that grants me everything I need for life and godliness.

His hands are majestic in holiness and strength.

When I step into His throne room, I do not worry.
His Mighty Hand always extends the reigning scepter toward me.
He moves to answer my call.

He answers—
not always according to my agenda,
but always according to His goodness.

His Hand lights my darkness,
holds me in the Day of my Distress,
and wipes away my tears.

His Hand is
MAJESTIC IN HOLINESS,
AWESOME IN GLORY,
WORKING WONDERS.

Six words.

Tuck them in your pocket.

They truly are life-breathing.

THE MIGHTY HAND OF THE LORD!