Jesus Isn't Decaf (By Naomi Meyers)

The first few months of this year have seen a lot of things cancelled. School, church, sports, camps, weddings, reunions–basically everything. It feels like life has been cancelled. It has gone on forever. Early on, some enterprising individuals launched an ad campaign saying things like, “Playing outside isn’t cancelled,” or “Kindness isn’t cancelled.” You probably saw the ads too. Perhaps they gave you hope. Maybe they gave you ideas of what to do with your restless children. Maybe they made you feel just a little less alone, a bit less depressed, a touch less worried.  

Unfortunately, those commercials aren’t playing much anymore. Months after it all began, very little has changed. A few things have begun reopening. Some have opened only to be shut down again. Because we can’t count on anything being normal, it still feels like a large portion of life is cancelled. It’s wearing on us more and more. People have polarized into groups. We are more divided than ever before. Frustration and anxiety have taken over. I understand. I’m frustrated too. The constant uptick of rules and regulations, persistent attempts to encourage fear and angst, continual blaming of one sector or another are making me anxious. Anxious that normal will never return. Anxious about the future. Anxious about raising children in this society. Anxious that life truly has been cancelled. 

I feel like the disciples must have felt as they rocked and swayed on the lake in the middle of the night. The calm waters of hours before have turned into a nightmare. The wind, once a lovely breeze, has turned into a raging force of nature. It whips the sails of their craft, making steering impossible. It’s dark. Their current course is undetectable. Waves are crashing against the boat. Some water has splashed over the sides. The outlook is grim. Death by shipwreck and drowning seems nearly certain. 

When it seems things can’t get any worse, they look up and see what appears to be an apparition walking across the choppy waters toward them. In disbelief, they scrub their hands over their faces. It’s the wee hours of the morning by now. They are exhausted from fighting the storm. Maybe they are imagining things. They open their eyes, but it’s still coming at them. Wind. Waves. Wraith. Terror upon terror upon terror. Their fear has nearly cancelled their faith when Jesus speaks. “Don’t be afraid. Be courageous. I’m here.” (Matthew 14:22-27)

This is all eerily familiar, isn’t it? One thing after another has come along and attacked our faith. We are rocked about by reports, rules, and regimens. Every day there is a new statistic. Every day is more of the same. Fear, unquenchable fear, is the predominant encouragement of the day. Hunkered down, desperately searching for a way to survive the onslaught, we try to find a new thought, a new encouragement, a new hope. It is in that moment, when our faith is nearly cancelled by our fear, if we just listen, we too will hear the voice of Jesus saying, “Don’t be afraid. Be courageous. I’m here.” 

And it is true. When Jesus steps on the scene, we can trust that everything will be fine. Our fear can dissolve into trust. Our courage can rise. We can have faith. Jesus is here. In the middle of your furnace of fear, He is right beside you, just like He was with Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego. (Daniel 3:16-28) In your den of despair, He is there, just as He was with Daniel among the lions. (Daniel 6:1-23) The presence of God isn’t cancelled. 

More than 20 years ago, when I was a teenager at one of the many camps, church services, or revival meetings we attended, I heard a preacher say, “God is as close as your elbow.” I don’t remember who preached the sermon. I don’t remember his text. I will always remember that statement. It’s more important to me today than it ever has been. God isn’t social distancing. God isn’t quarantined to Heaven. He is right beside you. Always. You are never alone. (Psalm 16:8; Joshua 1:5) 

God’s face isn’t covered by a mask, either. You can still hear Him when He speaks. And He is speaking. Saying something you need to hear. “Don’t worry, not about today or tomorrow, next week or next year.” (Philippians 4:6-7; Matthew 6:34) The offer to take our cares and anxieties upon Himself is still open. (I Peter 5:7) He whispers to us, “Don’t be afraid. Have faith in God.” (Matthew 10:31; Mark 5:36) He offers us courage and strength from His limitless supply. (Psalm 31:24) He promises His peace in a world full of unrest, anxiety, discord, and fear. (John 14:27)

Those promises aren’t cancelled. They are still valid today. In 2015, I began keeping a notebook of Scripture passages that specifically stood out to me as I read. Sometimes I recorded a specific date by a passage. Sometimes I listed a specific name or need the passage addressed. Periodically, I pull it out and flip through the pages, taking encouragement from the words that have helped me in the past. They help me every time I read them. A few days ago, frustrated and anxious, I was impressed to get it out and flip through its pages again. On one of the final pages was a passage dated August 2019, “Calm down. Stop worrying. Do not fear or be fainthearted.” (Isaiah 7:4) I could have dated it a few days ago. Today. Everyday. I need to read it now. Maybe you need it too. 

Or maybe you need your own passage. Something that speaks specifically to your need, your day, your moment. It’s there. Pick up your Bible. Dust it off, if necessary. Open it’s pages. Find peace, hope, and faith in the non cancellable promises of God. Make a list. Write them down. Hold on to those passages. Go back and read them in the months and years to come. Mark the ones that hold special significance. Claim them. Like Abraham, trust the God who made those promises is also able to perform them. (Romans 4:20-22)

No matter what, remember this, God’s Word isn’t cancelled. The words He spoke then are still very much valid today. Words of peace, comfort, strength, and hope. Unfailing, unchanging, non cancellable promises from the God who is touched by the feeling of our infirmities, who understands our fears, our concerns, our cares. (Hebrews 4:15) The God who collects our tears in a bottle, meticulously recording each one, is still lovingly speaking those words to us today. (Psalm 56:8) Words that cannot be changed or cancelled by the ridiculous words of the world. (Matthew 24:35) You can find everything you need in Jesus when you take His hand and rest in His words, “Don’t be afraid. Be strong. I am here.” When everything else is cancelled, God’s presence, His peace, His promises are not. 

At a time when worry is trying to run our lives, fear is attempting to control our decisions, and anxiety is doing its best to crush our spirits, we need to change our focus. We have engaged in rigorous self preservation, but ignored our soul preservation. We need to block out the cacophony of rubbish found in reading news, watching statistics, tracking projections, and listing cancellations. Find quiet and peace by listening to and believing the sweet voice of the God who is right beside us, whispering in our ear His promises that nothing on earth can cancel. (Psalm 34:18; Matthew 11:29; Matthew 28:20; Psalm 121) “Don’t be afraid. Be courageous. I am here.”