The god of Comfort
Good tidings of comfort and joy!
That sounds good doesn’t it? The holidays are here and we have a long list of things that come with the season. Give me a warm blanket, a hot cup of cider, a soft flame flickering in the fireplace, and the peaceful presence of those I love the most, that’s my happy place!
As human beings, it’s normal to desire comfort and to seek that out. As humans living in a culture that promotes self, our standard for and our expectation of comfort has become extremely elevated. With each new bell and whistle, our desire for comfort at this high level becomes normalized.
I think about the evolution of cars: cruise control and electric windows used to be an option and now they are considered basic. My car is the only car in our family without remote start (poor me, lol). From heated seats and steering wheels, manual transmissions to self-driving cars, we, in our grand culture, love our comfort. In fact, we demand it.
And while there is nothing wrong with any of these physical comforts our society affords us, this idea of comfort that keeps stirring in my mind is so much more than a cozy blanket, or the latest list of options available on a new car. I’m challenged with the realization that my desire for comfort may have actually become a handicap. Comfort may look different for each of us, and that’s why the pursuit of it is worth considering.
I crave connection, but I prefer to keep my circle small and tight. Socially, that’s comfortable to me. I have to remind myself that God doesn’t hand out entitlements for comfort. Maybe God wants my circle to be bigger?
Perhaps it’s the comfort of routine? Sameness and predictability can be of great comfort. Does it give the illusion of control, but in reality lessen dependence on Him?
Does the keeping of tradition and the honoring of sentiment keep us comfortable? Should we instead choose to be tethered to that which is holy?
How about financial comfort? That even sounds like a prudent thing to seek after, right? But what if my pursuit of that takes my eyes off of the Provider?
How about our stuff? Is there comfort in the gathering and acquiring of those things? Is there an attachment to things that takes priority over people?
How about peace? It sounds like a universally good thing. Does peace, at all costs, provide that comfort we are looking for? Sometimes we settle for a superficial peace, one that causes a soul-stirring disconnect and steals our focus and clarity.
How about the comfort of sharing a world view that aligns with your people? Would choosing a different lens allow you to view the world in a way that has transformative power?
Do I seek comfort more than I seek Him? Is comfort one of those good things that keeps me from the best things?
Is this insatiable desire for comfort sent to us from the dark world? Is it disguised and snuck in so innocently that we don’t even question its source?
Is a comfortable life proof of God’s blessing? Or have I, in some way, equated God‘s favor with my own comfort?
Does His goodness look different to me when I am comfortable? What if God’s goodness doesn’t always feel good? Is God still good?
As I wrestle with these questions, the answer I come back to every single time is this: God will never reign in my heart when my first thought is about my comfort.
It seems to me that God is honored more in our discomfort than in our comfort.
We can choose, with intention and purpose, to push ourselves out of our comfort zone. That’s where growth happens, God is glorified and we are refined.
There are other times that we are catapulted into discomfort by circumstances which we do not choose and in them seems to be no purpose. But that’s also where growth happens, God is glorified, and we are refined by a process covered in His grace, as He walks us to the foot of the cross. And that’s where we’ll meet the God of Comfort, at the foot of the cross, as we lay down the god of comfort.
I’m challenged to do just that. Let’s journey there together, my friend.
