Comfort

As I rode in the car with my sister down I-385 for an impromptu trip to the armpit of South Carolina (that’s Columbia for all you non- SC people), my conscious mind was made aware of something that my spirit has known for a long time. 

We have a really twisted relationship with comfort.

This has been a revelation marinating for a few weeks now, but the words my sister offered as we sipped our lukewarm coffee brought a lot development to this concept swirling around in my brain. As we were discussing a passage of Scripture, she murmured quietly “I think the Church has made comfort an enemy…” That was all I needed. 

In some ways we (meaning a whole bunch of us. Westerners, millennials, retirees, Church people, non-Church people, scholars, artists...) have totally idolised the idea of being comfortable. We think it’s the best option. We figure out what it looks like for us personally, go thousands of dollars in debt to ensure it, work our whole lives gain it, fight for it, live for it. And somehow, at the same time, we’re discovering this idea that comfort inhibits us, keeps us stagnant and we should do everything we can to avoid it. 

Comfort.

/‘kemfert/ n:

1. 1. a state of physical ease and freedom from pain or constraint.
2. 2. things that contribute to physical ease and well-being.
3. 3. prosperity and the pleasant lifestyle secured by it.
4. 4. the easing or alleviation of a person's feelings of grief or distress.

Comfort is cool. It’s nice to have things that we need, know how to navigate the life we find ourselves in, have some sort of idea about what’s coming next. Most of us live “comfortably” comparatively to the the world. Most facets of our lives are convenient. We’ve slipped into a life where things are at our manicured fingertips. We can slink through our days as independents, thinking we have every thing we need physically, emotionally… shaming ourselves for reaching out for help from another soul. And so the invitation for human connection slips from first thought to somewhere far less prominent in our minds. 

And we’re realising this is a problem. We’re realising we can’t stay where it’s constantly comfortable. We don’t want to forfeit any part of our potential for growth.

So we swing to the other side of the pendulum. We look at western culture and wag our little pointer fingers saying “wow, America (or other first world culture). You’ve made everything so easy, quick, and accessible! We’re trapped inside these comfort zone boxes- they’re evil and they MUST be cast aside!!!!” We reprimand ourselves for our lives of comfort, push ourselves to try new things, throw ourselves into relationship with people that are nothing like ourselves. This can be stunningly beautiful, but it can get icky too. 

Ahhh, paradox. We meet again. Both sides of the above argument are completely true.

The thing about paradox is that it's not about a “happy medium” or a 50/50 balance. It’s 100/100. We desperately need both sides of this coin... a "radical middle.”

The passage my sister and I were discussing was one that she had encouraged me to read a few weeks ago as I clawed at the idea of “settling in” to my new home in Belgium. First let me start by saying, it was PERFECT timing, because essentially nothing is comfortable about moving to a nation where you cannot speak the language, do not understand the customs or the culture, and have no friends. 

Last week, as my fingers sifted through the fragile pages of the Book that has made me so aware of paradox, I found myself in 2 Corinthians 1. I was desperate for a word, and a touch of comfort from my Best Friend. 

2 Corinthians 1:3-22 (summarised by Yours Truly- look it up though. It’s life-changing)

“God is our merciful Father and source of all comfort… He comforts us in all troubles so we can comfort others… The more we suffer for Christ, the more God will shower us with his comfort through Christ… As you share in our sufferings, you will also share in the comfort God gives us”

For some reason, the context of the word “comfort" here didn’t sit comfortably with me (ha). I looked up the original word in Greek that was written in this Scripture and found something that may have changed me forever:

παρακλησις // Paraklésis

/ n: or v: /

1. To call to one’s side. A calling, summons, exhortation (emphatically urging someone to do something)
2. Importation (coming from somewhere else to you), supplication (asking/begging earnestly)
3. Solace, refreshment
4. Persuasive conversation, stirring address

This hit me like a fracking wrecking ball. The word used to describe how God comforts us is not at all what I thought it to be. 

1. This word is SO COOL. It can be used as a noun or a verb. I can “parakleo” to God and He can “parakleo” to me. We can emphatically urge God to come to our rescue and He will. All the while, He is emphatically urging us to come to His side. That in and of itself is comfort. His Presence is literally it. We don’t need a fuzzy blanket or the ability to understand the lay of the land we find ourselves in in order to be at peace. Comfort is not permission to stay where we are, it is an emphatic urge to come close, to be drawn to our Father’s side. 
2. Importation // Supplication. Oh BOY this is good. It’s coming from somewhere else to you. We don’t even have the ability in and of ourselves to ask Him to come close. But as our need for Him escapes our lips as words, or even just as thought barely formed in our brain, He comes running. He loves our weakness. He wants to be close to us. At the same time, He is asking, even begging us to let Him draw close. He wants to be closer to us than we want Him to be. He wants to answer your requests more than you want Him to. 
3. Solace // refreshment. I think this is closest to what we think of as comfort. He refreshes us, supplies deep soul-level peace, and offers us His understanding. He says “I get you. You’re fully understood here. I know exactly how your heart aches, rejoices, wonders. I grasp the parts you can’t grasp. The spoken and unspoken cries of your heart are fully accepted here with me” 
4. It is a stirring address. This parakésis comfort is not going to reduce you to stagnant living. As He pulls us in, He moves us. He commissions us. He empowers us to run full force into the dreams springing up from within our fierce hearts. He doesn’t tell us to sit down and be quiet, to be smaller or less opinionated. He says “Get up and live empowered. Do what I made you to do"

This is not a petite, safe, beige-colored kind of comfort. It's aggressive, powerful, risky, and wild. It’s restful, serene, peaceful, and good. 

God’s definition of comfort is “Go for it, all-in. I’m with you,” 

It obliterates our permission to stay where we feel safe, while simultaneously offering deep peace that makes us wonder why we ever settled for “safe”. So we step into hurricanes of dreams and new relationships and unknown circumstances and questionable conversations with ferocious joy rather than timid uncertainty. It doesn’t make sense on the surface, yet these two ideas compliment each other so well. You are secure and loved where you are, yet it’s time to be move out of where you are because where He is where you are. Paradox at it’s finest.

So be comforted, friend, as you toss yourself into the uncomfortable. You’re not alone. Call out to Him, and let Him call out your name too. Listen for a few minutes without reading a Bible verse or "getting your heart right" first. Know that He wants to draw you in regardless of your emotional, physical, or spiritual state. Let the mundaneness of another bowl of oatmeal in the morning be instead an invitation to feel Him drawing you close. Through smells of coffee and the texture of book pages, through silly conversations celebrating the small things, through applying for grad school or signing a business deal or committing yourself to another human being… it’s all an invitation to be comforted.

Know today that He has drawn you in, you’re safe at His side, and because of that you can conquer, dream, and accomplish more than you ever thought possible. 

Endless Love,

M ♥️

And here, we have a few of the ways God has offered my comfort in the most uncomfortable season of my life. But there's peace here, because He is. Comfort is art and the colour palette of roofs in the fog and butterflies on white walls and ivy growing up cement and pink buildings and people... Dear people.