Reflections of the Kingdom

Dear ones,

AFTER A RECENT RAIN STORM, I noticed our Paulownia tomentosa—often called royal paulownias, empress trees, or princess trees—reflected upside down on our patio. That sight reminded me of our “Seek First The Kingdom” Bible study by Christine Hoover and how the Sermon on the Mount turns our usual way of thinking on its head in God’s kingdom culture.

In our broken, worldly culture, it’s hard to grasp “Your kingdom come, Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven” that God offers through His Son, Jesus Christ—a mystery He began to reveal in Matthew 5: “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” While the world prizes self-confidence, Jesus promises the kingdom to those who humbly recognize their neediness.

I remember an elementary school day when I was given an IQ test that filled me with fear. I was terrified that everyone would see how “not smart” I was. At three, I had contracted polio, and I misunderstood my mother’s remark that the illness had “slowed me down”—I thought she meant intellectually, only to realize later she meant physically.

In second grade, my father bought a farm in northern Saskatchewan, far from the power grid. Because the harsh winters made year-round living impossible for us, we moved twice a year—once in the fall after harvest to the city of Saskatoon, and then back to the farm each spring for seeding. I changed schools twice annually for three years, always struggling to catch up with whatever was happening in class. That instability only confirmed my feelings of being slow and out of place. When teachers divided students into different learning groups in fourth grade, I volunteered to be placed with the “slow” group. Yet, by fifth grade, after we finally installed a generator and plumbing and stayed on the farm through winter, I was suddenly placed in the fast class.

That self-doubt carried over into many areas of my life. It wasn’t until the end of eighth grade, after moving to Dallas, Oregon, near my maternal grandparents, that I began to understand my deep spiritual poverty. In my quest to fit in and shake off my “country bumpkin” image, I tried hard to lose my Canandian accent and compromised my convictions not to appear too religious. But God pursued me relentlessly, until I finally surrendered my whole heart to Him. He did not want just a part of my heart but all of it. After that admission and submission, He transformed my attitudes and actions, and I cared more that my friends came to know Him than I cared what they thought of me.

God has been working in me ever since—pruning away useless attitudes and teaching me to let go of my own will. Recognizing my complete inability to offer anything of worth before God has been humbling. To be poor in spirit is to see our spiritual bankruptcy, to admit that our sin leaves us destitute and unable to save ourselves. Only by acknowledging this neediness can we come to God in faith to receive the salvation and abundant life He freely offers.

It’s ironic—admitting neediness contradicts the world’s standards, yet it draws me closer to Christ. In that humble state, I experience the power of His Holy Spirit, which helps me endure and persevere through challenges I never thought possible. We can only abide in God’s kingdom by coming to Him with our brokenness; in return, He fills us with His kingdom.

The upside-down reflection of our princess trees started this story. Today, its hardwood branches burst with large, pinkish, fox-glove blossoms. I can’t help but wonder: if we continue to live in the upside-down world of God’s kingdom, will He, our gracious King, adorn us—His princesses—with His own breathtaking beauty?

Only by His undeserved favor,
MarJean