Years ago I was blessed in an unnerving way by a small group Bible study that required identifying personal idols. Of course I had heard about “modern idols” all my good Christian life, but the concept had never broken into my heart’s reality. This time it pressed in until I began to be aware of some personal idols. One of the first idols I identified was comfort, or being comfortable. I do not like being uncomfortable – physically, mentally, emotionally, and everything in between. No discomfort please. Have I “given” this idol to God? Not really. I operate more on the “misery loves company” principle, and make sure everyone around me knows when I am uncomfortable. I try to fix things, and I get mad when it doesn’t work. I would say I still have comfort on a pedestal. But that doesn’t stop God from giving me something to think about.

Earlier this week as I was sitting with God in the early morning quiet, I was feeling uncomfortable. My spirit was not at peace and I wanted to escape the discomfort. As I sat with God in my discomfort, He suggested that perhaps peace and discomfort go hand in hand. His peace settled in my heart, and I felt both peaceful and uncomfortable at the same time. This has happened before, but I had not previously stopped to name it. Could peace and discomfort be two sides of the same coin in our existence on broken earth as Jesus followers? Is this a common experience among believers?

Peace with everything comfortable would hardly merit the title “peace that passes understanding” (Philippians 4:7). And being comfortable seems an unlikely description for a life lived in spiritual warfare, or being part of an upside down kingdom, or being in the process of transformation from having a heart of stone to a heart of flesh (Ezekiel 36:26). I don’t want to admit that life is uncomfortable, but the truth is that my uncomfortable moments outnumber my comfortable moments.

So if I go ahead and admit that life (even – or especially – a Christian life) is uncomfortable, discomfort suddenly has purpose. It’s like a constant whisper in my soul, “remember Jesus.” Every time I notice my cold feet, or replay a conversation that didn’t go well, or feel rejected, it’s a whisper, “remember Jesus.” I cannot forget, because I cannot make my life go well and stay comfortable. Every time I feel the discomfort, it’s an invitation to “peace that passes understanding.” An invitation to remember that the One who provides stands ready to give me peace. Only in feeling the discomfort do I know the desire for peace, and turn toward Him to receive it.

In her book “Searching for Sunday,” Rachel Held Evans says, “Imagine if every church became a place where everyone is safe, but no one is comfortable.” I love this because it rings true with the way I experience God. He is the ultimate safe Being, and in His presence I flail, I curse, I cry and shout, I sit in silent misery, I question, I complain, and always He is present. There is no person I have ever known that even came close to this level of emotional safety. And yet I am not comfortable. I don’t come before God to feel good about myself or to get things fixed. His work in me is often uncomfortable. Safe, but not comfortable. Peaceful, but not comfortable. Maybe someday I will get used to this.