The safe life?

I did it again last week.

And again, it hurt. Bumping my thigh on the corner of our bed frame left me this week with a beautifully-colored bruise as proof, a mark quite noticeable.

This world is not a safe place.

God is “not a tame lion.”
     (Aren’t we forever grateful to Lewis for that image?)

God is not in me to shower me with the blessings of short lines at Walmart, pretty shoes that don’t hurt my feet, ne’er an experience with chill bumps or sweat drops.

I don’t live in a bubble, gifted with perfect protection here just because I believe in Jesus.

But what I get is better, even though I’m still having to grow into that realization.

What I get is better because what I get is what I need.

Larry Crabb sums it up well in The Pressure’s Off:

What then is our greatest need? We need . . .

       radical forgiveness that makes it possible for unholy people to come near to a holy God and live;

       supernatural love that empowers naturally selfish people to care more about someone else other than themselves, thus revealing God;

       spiritual might that actually changes bad people into good people, not good merely by society’s standards—we have plenty of folks like that—but good like God, good enough to value ultimate goodness.

In my world, I’m vulnerable.
To lust of the flesh, of the eyes, to pride of life.

But in his world, I’m safer than I think.
From condemnation, from loneliness, from meaninglessness. 

Nonetheless, I’ll still bruise up, get headaches (and heartaches), and waste time in long lines.

It’ll leave marks on me.

But to encounter God in the midst of it all?

That’s the good life.
The saved life.
The only life worth living.

* * *

What dangers have you encountered lately?

What’s a sign you’re living the good life anyway?