Anonymous: Jesus' hidden years...and yours

by Alicia Britt Chole

Though my skin prefers their role in summer, somehow my soul prefers their lessons in winter. Then, when growth pauses, the trees have often become my teachers.

What the plenty of summer hides, the nakedness of winter reveals: infrastructure. Fullness often distracts from foundations. But in the stillness of winter, the trees’ true strength is unveiled.

Abundance may make us feel more productive, but perhaps emptiness has greater power to strengthen our souls. In spiritual winters, our fullness is thinned so that, undistracted by our giftings, we can focus upon our character. In the absence of anything to measure, we are left with nothing to stare at except for our foundation.

With gratitude, we simply abide.

The Father’s work in us does not sleep—though in spiritual winters he retracts all advertisement.

And when he does so, he is purifying our faith, strengthening our character, conserving our energy, and preparing us for the future.

The sleepy days of winter hide us so that seductive days of summ...

But there is One who can see the beauty of that covered, smothered flower: God himself. And, mysteriously, his delight in that beauty is not diminished by its leafy camouflage.

Because of their enormous mass, with that proportion, icebergs are virtually indestructible. 10% visible + 90% unseen = an indestructible life The most influential life in all of history reflected the iceberg equation. Ninety percent of his life on earth was spent in obscurity.

The people were waiting expectantly and were all wondering in their hearts if John might possibly be the Christ. John answered them all, “I baptize you with water. But one more powerful than I will come, the thongs of whose sandals I am not worthy to untie. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his barn, but he will burn up the chaff with unquenchable fire.” (Luke 3:15–17; see also Matthew 3:11 and Mark 1:7–8)

The next day John saw Jesus coming toward him and said, “Look, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world! This is the one I meant when I said, ‘A man who comes after me has surpassed me because he was before me.’ I myself did not know him, but the reason I came baptizing with water was that he might be revealed to Israel.” (John 1:29–31)

But Jesus’ character and authority are not isolated entities. They are not disconnected commodities we can purchase at a discount.

However, with his life (and with ours), it is critical that we not mistake unseen for unimportant.

Consider human conception. Life commences in the dark warmth of the womb. God knits us together there with infinitely creative hands concealing from our curiosity his most mysterious act of creation. Unseen? Yes. Unimportant? Not remotely. These months in the womb are quite literally formative. When this hidden phase of development is prematurely interrupted, the results can be tragic.

From God’s perspective, anonymous seasons are sacred spaces. They are quite literally formative; to be rested in, not

rushed through—and most definitely never to be regretted. Unapplauded, but not unproductive: hidden years are the surprising birthplace of true spiritual greatness.

And like most truly profound people, she was intimately familiar with pain.

In other words, trials tell us less about our future than they do about our past. Why? Because the decisions we make

in difficult places today are greatly the product of decisions we made in the unseen places of our yesterdays.

For Jesus, and for us, “today” does not exist in a vacuum. Each day is in some way shaped by the days preceding it and in turn has an effect upon the days following it.

Some struggle with living in the past, others with living for the moment. Personally, my struggle has more often been in living for the future. As a young adult, my gaze was always set toward the next step or season or degree or plan or place or . . . Distracted with daydreams of tomorrow’s potential, I often found today’s reality pale and tasteless in comparison. Before I could even be capable of valuing hidden years, I first had to start valuing each day as something more than just a boring prelude to the exciting future.

“Child, I am the God who wastes no man’s time. To me, every course in your life is main.”

Having fully captivated Jesus’ and John’s attention, of all the things Father God could have said, his first words were neither directional (“Go here”) nor instructional

(“Do this”). They were relational: “This is my Son.”

God sounded his affirmation from above over Jesus’ life before Jesus ever preached one sermon or enlightened one mind, before Jesus ever healed one body or saved one soul.

They were spoken over his hidden years. God declared his full acceptance and pride over what Jesus had become through his anonymous season. In unseen places over underestimated years, Jesus had been making unrecorded, unapplauded choices that had prepared him for everything to come. And Father God—who values the seen and unseen alike—was very, very pleased.

Before we get that promotion or even get out of bed, Father God is already shouting. Not because of any stunning accomplishment but because of

who we are: through Jesus, we are his! That shout

is worthy of a prayer...

Eternally, perhaps our greatest enemy on earth is losing perspective and beginning to value our fragile surroundings more than God’s faithful friendship in our lives.

Surrendering to hidden years enabled Jesus (and can enable us) to desire, above all, God’s company and not be distracted by life’s scenery.

we will view Jesus’ experience in the Judean wilderness as one singular temptation with three layers: appetite, applause, and authority.

Jesus’ strategy in resisting temptation also follows a pattern. In response to Satan’s snare, Jesus first anchors himself (by looking to God and his Word), and then he makes a definite choice (that renders each layer’s invitation ineffective).

Time is not really spent. Instead, it is invested in a future we cannot see.

No one ever asks for a tour, but everything in our home is dependent upon what is under our home.

Jesus’ hidden years established a trustworthy foundation in his life. He resisted rushing and took the time to live them well. Now in the Judean wilderness each layer of temptation would rest on its predecessor (like a second floor does on a first floor) and double or triple the full weight bearing down on Jesus’ hidden foundation. If there were any cracks in that foundation, the compounded stress of appetite, applause, and authority would reveal and exploit them. And if that hidden foundation was sound, all the temptations on the planet could not crush him.

Remember how the LORD your God led you

all the way in the desert these forty years, to humble you and to test you in order to know what was in your heart, whether or not you would keep his commands. He humbled you, causing you to hunger and then feeding you with manna, which neither you nor your fathers had known, to teach you that man does not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of the LORD. Your clothes did not wear out and your feet did not swell during these forty years. Know then in your heart that as a man disciplines his son, so the LORD your God

disciplines you. (Deuteronomy 8:2–5) How immediately applicable! Why does Father God lead those he loves into deserts? To humble us, to test us, to know what is in our hearts, to see if we will keep his commands, to teach us to depend upon him, and to disc...

Provision would literally fall from heaven, but God did not permit the people to produce food for themselves. They were entirely dependent on him, and that helplessness tested them. Being powerless revealed what was in their hearts: would they, or would they not, obey God?

For Jesus, living meant much, much more than having food, clothing, and shelter. He

But there was something he needed even more in order to truly live.

How we define that small word makes a big difference when we are tempted in the layer of appetite.

In our sensory-driven world, it is easy to reduce our working definition of living to the stuff we can tou...

but u...

Such a reduction renders us vulnerable to a deadly form of hopelessness when we experience pain-filled ...

Life is because God is. We literally exist by the power of God’s Word, and if he were to withdraw that Word, all life would utterly perish.

When tempted in the layer of appetite, it may sincerely feel as though we will die if our cravings are not satisfied. Actually, something does die when we reposition our feelings behind God’s truth and refuse to let appetite rule: ourselves.

As a realist, I so appreciate that Jesus’ chosen strategy to resist temptation in the layer of appetite was not denial. At best, denial seems a questionable use of our finite emotional resources. At worst, it is an intentional investment in untruth.

Jesus pacing about with determination chanting, “I am not hungry. I am not hungry. I am not hungry.”