Cultivating Shalom

Introduction The world is a perfectly good and safe place to be. —Dallas Willard The deconstruction was the easy part. Tearing down stuff that you no longer want or need feels liberating. It’s like “demo day” on home improvement shows. There is great satisfaction in getting rid of the old because you know something better is coming in the rebuilding of your home. It is a ton of work yet is fun and rewarding. There’s a clear plan to follow as you put things back together, as well as the ability, hopefully, to figure out any problems you might bump into along the way. Deconstruction in the spiritual realm however, is much more tricky. Do we know something better is coming? Faith is believing in what we cannot see. It is staring at the face of doubt and choosing to pursue faith anyway. We think we can simply walk away from old ways and traditions and outdated thinking and carry on with our lives. But this is not how it works. It’s not enough to let go of old ways of thinking and acting because once those things are gone, you realize there is a gaping hole where all your confusion and skepticism used to reside. Whatever clarity you may have is still haunted by the old ways. In my deconstruction of my beliefs, I realized that the gap needed to be filled—and not with just anything. Certainly not with meaningless and trivial substitutes for a faith. At best, those things are usually temporary and short-lived. At worst, complacency, apathy, and even disdain can set in. Over time, we can become content with the nothingness and then find ourselves in a worse predicament. A rebuilding must take place. But how does one go about doing so? The truth is that regardless of what you believe, faith is a perplexing yet fascinating thing. Hopefully it is ever changing and deepening. However frustrating it can be, there is a mysterious beauty to it that nothing else can offer. It is a sacred journey and is not for the faint of heart. Hence, the discovery that I only held part of the story within me was a little unnerving. But the longing inside me demanded I seek further. I could not go without faith; of that I was sure. So the question was no longer “What do I get rid of?” Rather, it became “What exactly do I believe?” followed by “How will I actually live this out in real life?” It was a slow awakening to a much larger story. Gratefully, it is a beautiful story of God, and one that I hope more people will grapple with and give a fighting chance. This writing of Cultivating Shalom is my attempt at conveying the wonder of rebuilding my life with God. Psalm 23, so often read at funerals, is not a psalm about death but rather about life—abundant life. It provided the perfect setting in which to delve into the angst of my soul, and it did not disappoint. If you are holding this book and are considering reading it, I am going to assume there is some kind of longing inside of you. Unless you are a friend or family member of mine who feels obliged to read my work, I believe something must have drawn you to this place. In either case, I fully believe that God is up to something good in you, and I am so glad you are coming along with me on this pilgrimage through Psalm 23. First, because the journey of learning and growing is done best with others rather than alone. Second, because I believe God has prepared a feast for us! I am excited to pull up a chair to the metaphorical table in the company of those who desire a deeper understanding of the abundant life God is continually offering us. I hope you’re excited too, or at least curious. It is my prayer that as we make our way through Psalm 23, we will become more fully aware of the sacredness of the unique life each of us has been given. I am going to dive right in and outline the purpose of this book and how I firmly believe God desires shalom for each one of us all the time. I do not mean those fleeting moments of happiness and contentment, but the constant and continuous living in the rest and wholeness of God, no matter what is happening in the world or in our own lives. I feel compelled to write about this not only because of the world circumstances we find ourselves in—at the time of this writing, we are living through a global pandemic—but also because of my many conversations with people who do not feel the love of God. They are not able to experience his goodness or even recognize his work in their lives. These people include those who are new to the way of Jesus as well as those who have been following him a long time! Most of all, I am writing because of my own hard-fought faith journey. It has been a lifelong process with many twists and turns and ups and downs, but I am finally coming to terms with myself and even settling into a sweet place of contentment with God. It seems I am a slow learner because it has been many decades in the making, but I am beginning to realize that God is not seeking to punish and control me. Nor is he indifferent to me; in fact, it’s quite the opposite. I have realized that God does care about me. He deeply delights in me and desperately desires for me to receive and experience his gift of complete wholeness. I am even catching myself believing at times that God is trustworthy. So I come to you with my own thought distortions, imperfect life, and unanswered questions as a fellow sojourner on the path toward shalom with a humble offering of peace to you. Perhaps together, through the lens of Psalm 23, we will discover God’s delight and goodness toward us and in turn experience true shalom.