Filled to the Fullness
Last night I made a pot of tea. I used a large regular teabag and two mango flavored regular size teabags. I ran water through twice and made two pots. The first pot I divided into containers for Nelson and I to take to work. I put them in the refrigerator so they would be nicely chilled for today. I drank the other pot hot.
I brought the first mug in and sat down in my chair in the living room where the kids were playing. Asher came over to check out what I had. After the tea cooled some, he asked for a sip. Each sip was followed by “just one more.” I finally went to the kitchen and poured the rest of that mug into a sippy cup for him. He just couldn’t get enough and was quite distraught when I shut him off (it was after nine PM, and his mommy would want him to sleep).
I thought about that this morning as I was sipping on another cup of tea and writing next week’s devotions. Pastor’s theme is “The Fullness of God.” I had written the entire week’s worth and was looking for a way to wrap up the theme when I turned to Ephesians 3:14-19:
14For this reason I kneel before the Father, 15from whom his whole family[a] in heaven and on earth derives its name. 16I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, 17so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, 18may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, 19and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God. (NIV)
And from The Message:
14-19My response is to get down on my knees before the Father, this magnificent Father who parcels out all heaven and earth. I ask him to strengthen you by his Spirit—not a brute strength but a glorious inner strength—that Christ will live in you as you open the door and invite him in. And I ask him that with both feet planted firmly on love, you'll be able to take in with all followers of Jesus the extravagant dimensions of Christ's love. Reach out and experience the breadth! Test its length! Plumb the depths! Rise to the heights! Live full lives, full in the fullness of God.
I was reminded as I read this of the old “full serve” gas stations. Remember how you could just pull in, roll down the window, and tell the attendant, “Fill ‘er up!” They would clean the windows, check the oil, and if your tires looked low, put air in them. But we began to move faster and wanted the option of just pulling in and getting our gas ourselves. Fewer and fewer stations offered the amenities, until now little old ladies have to come in and plead for someone to help them with their gas.
When did we get the idea we could do it better ourselves? Oh, that’s right, in the Garden. In the very beginning we had it all, full service to the max, but we believed that we could be smarter than God. Instead of trusting the one who made everything to know what we needed, we broke the one rule given so we could be smart, too. But it was a dumb move that has just proceeded to show us over and over again down through time that we don’t have all the answers and we do need to trust one who is smarter than us.
But here’s the most incredible thing about the whole matter: God will still take the mess we create and use it to make an amazingly full and joy-full life for us. And the cost? Full serve. We have to give up running the show on our own and trust him. We have to turn over the maintenance of our lives to him. We have to quit running at the world’s pace and by its standards and do things God’s way. But in return we get the full fullness of God. And in a day when we are consumed by the fluctuations of the market, God is one option that you will never lose on!
And that brings me back to my tea. Here’s what I’ve learned about the goodness and fullness of God. I can’t ever seem to get enough, but that’s okay because it will never, ever run out! And no one is going to tell you you’ve had enough either! So drink up, fill ‘er up—there’s lots, lots more where that came from !
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
What's Your Aim?
I've been watching lots of kids' programming with the grandsweeties here this week. Right now CyberChase is on. There are a couple story lines going on, but one really caught my attention.
A couple of the kids are working on improving their hockey scoring. They were consistently missing the mark. The shot was a bank shot and each time they shot they missed because they didn't know where to aim. Once they were given a mark they were able to make the shot.
And that got me thinking...Two questions come to my mind when I think about aim: what are you aiming for; and how's your aim? The what assumes a target. Do you know what you want? My younger daughter wants to go back to school, but isn't willing to start until she's more sure about what she wants to take. Pretty sensible to me.
Typically we can set a lot of goals at this time of year. Some of them barely keep our attention for a week and then we feel disappointment and frustration at our lack of follow through. Perhaps the real problem lies in how we set our goals. As I was thinking about this the image of a target came to mind. You may have the goal in mind, but are you aiming for it? I think we've become to geared to being satisfied with just reaching the outer rings. We don't expect to hit the center so why try? That spot is reseved for a select few. I have a scientific word to resond to that: hogwash! What are you aiming for? What do you believe you can accomplish? Are you selling yourself short?
Spiritually, I believe we need goals. A few years back I felt led to led my goal, or guiding principle be "contentment." That was tough. Battling against discontent was good for my prayer life, that was for sure. This yearI keep coming back to the word "listen." God knows what I need and I have a suspicion that he's getting tried of me telling him how to handle things. I need to get better, and better at listening for and to his voice.
So, how's your aim and what are you aiming for?
A couple of the kids are working on improving their hockey scoring. They were consistently missing the mark. The shot was a bank shot and each time they shot they missed because they didn't know where to aim. Once they were given a mark they were able to make the shot.
And that got me thinking...Two questions come to my mind when I think about aim: what are you aiming for; and how's your aim? The what assumes a target. Do you know what you want? My younger daughter wants to go back to school, but isn't willing to start until she's more sure about what she wants to take. Pretty sensible to me.
Typically we can set a lot of goals at this time of year. Some of them barely keep our attention for a week and then we feel disappointment and frustration at our lack of follow through. Perhaps the real problem lies in how we set our goals. As I was thinking about this the image of a target came to mind. You may have the goal in mind, but are you aiming for it? I think we've become to geared to being satisfied with just reaching the outer rings. We don't expect to hit the center so why try? That spot is reseved for a select few. I have a scientific word to resond to that: hogwash! What are you aiming for? What do you believe you can accomplish? Are you selling yourself short?
Spiritually, I believe we need goals. A few years back I felt led to led my goal, or guiding principle be "contentment." That was tough. Battling against discontent was good for my prayer life, that was for sure. This yearI keep coming back to the word "listen." God knows what I need and I have a suspicion that he's getting tried of me telling him how to handle things. I need to get better, and better at listening for and to his voice.
So, how's your aim and what are you aiming for?
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Not Always What They Seem
I had blood work done last week as a follow up from my doctor's appointment in June. At that point I was borderline with my cholesteral. The report wasn't in my file when I arrived, but they faxxed it over from the lab. As soon as the doctor got the report she became very serious. Here's why:
Cholesterol: 275 (perferred range 50-200)
HDL: 39.7 (preferred range: >40
LDL: 189 (preferred range 0-130)
Triglycerides: 230 (preferredd range 35-150
National Cholesterol Recommended Reference Ranges:
Total Cholesterol: >240 High
HDL: >40 Normal
LDL: >190 Very High
Triglycerides: 200-499 High
Now you may be experts at understanding all this but I had to do some research--I really like the internet. Good cholesterol is the HDL and it can help bring down the bad cholesterol, but not when it's low and triglycerides are high.
So I'm not as healthy as I look or feel. I talked with my doctor about how the chaos and stress of the summer resulted in a lot of emotional eating on my part. It's scary to think what my numbers might have been before I started back to Curves.
The doctor said I know how to eat right and that I should keep exercising and she has put me on a low dose cholesterol medicine. I'm hoping it's something I can afford...because I don't know if I can afford to be without it.
Those are facts...now what about the implications.
I have been working out regularly at Curves and trying to eat better...but is better good enough. I called my mother to see if there was any genetic predisposition and there wasn't. So this is on me.
I was thinking about the spiritual implications. Cholesterol is a little like sin (stick with me here...and don't hold on to things to tightly...it is afterall a metaphor and any metaphor pushed too far falls apart). It lingers within, imperceptible and insidious, waiting for the time to strike. Watching for our weakness. The wages of sin is death.
What if I had chosen not to go back to the doctor? I didn't feel sick. I didn't look sick. Now I have to change the way I eat--and that won't be an easy task. I've been eating this way for nearly 52 years. I like eating--and I don't believe I've ever met a donut or cokie that I didn't like. Now that I know, I have a choice to make. Defeat the enemy or give in because it will be hard to change.
I'm going to fight. I confess my need. And I'm going to win.
Cholesterol: 275 (perferred range 50-200)
HDL: 39.7 (preferred range: >40
LDL: 189 (preferred range 0-130)
Triglycerides: 230 (preferredd range 35-150
National Cholesterol Recommended Reference Ranges:
Total Cholesterol: >240 High
HDL: >40 Normal
LDL: >190 Very High
Triglycerides: 200-499 High
Now you may be experts at understanding all this but I had to do some research--I really like the internet. Good cholesterol is the HDL and it can help bring down the bad cholesterol, but not when it's low and triglycerides are high.
So I'm not as healthy as I look or feel. I talked with my doctor about how the chaos and stress of the summer resulted in a lot of emotional eating on my part. It's scary to think what my numbers might have been before I started back to Curves.
The doctor said I know how to eat right and that I should keep exercising and she has put me on a low dose cholesterol medicine. I'm hoping it's something I can afford...because I don't know if I can afford to be without it.
Those are facts...now what about the implications.
I have been working out regularly at Curves and trying to eat better...but is better good enough. I called my mother to see if there was any genetic predisposition and there wasn't. So this is on me.
I was thinking about the spiritual implications. Cholesterol is a little like sin (stick with me here...and don't hold on to things to tightly...it is afterall a metaphor and any metaphor pushed too far falls apart). It lingers within, imperceptible and insidious, waiting for the time to strike. Watching for our weakness. The wages of sin is death.
What if I had chosen not to go back to the doctor? I didn't feel sick. I didn't look sick. Now I have to change the way I eat--and that won't be an easy task. I've been eating this way for nearly 52 years. I like eating--and I don't believe I've ever met a donut or cokie that I didn't like. Now that I know, I have a choice to make. Defeat the enemy or give in because it will be hard to change.
I'm going to fight. I confess my need. And I'm going to win.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Thank-full
Only 50 things? I have 50x50 and then 50 times that and more.
Here's my perspective: This has been a hard year. I was frustrated with my job, but passionate about it and more than willing to make it work. Nelson had a good paying job, but was in horrible pain. June came and he had another surgery. One week later I lost my job. Ann moved to Alabama with a guy we didn't know and signed Caden over to her ex. I couldn't find a full-time job. Nelson is still of on disability.
I could whine about that and stomp my feet, shaking my hand at heaven declaring the unfairness of it all. But that's not me. Instead, I choose to see provision and blessing.
We are blessed that Nelson was employed and that his employer has been patient while he heals. He will be going back to work as soon as the doctor releases him.
We are blessed that I was able to find not one but two part-time jobs and while it has stretched us we are current on all our bills. Money comes through right on time--and many friends have been generous to help us on that account.
We are blessed that my employer at Curves has been willing to work with me on my schedule and the other worker where I provide care for Ma'am has been flexible to share hours so that I will be able to care for Asher in the evenings when Nelson goes back to work. (If I had gotten a different job, or jobs, my schedule might not been as flexible.)
We are blessed because though Ann is far away now, we get Caden next week and Penelope for three weeks after that! And Ann and her beau are moving to just outside Missouri and will be six hours closer. Communication and relationship (though shakey) has been restored between her and her dad.
We are blessed to be part of a great church family and to be a part of a very, very special Sunday School class.
I am particularly blessed to have gotten training in grant writing and have the opportunity to work with a couple local ministries to get that started. Through that I am beginning to make some friends.
The very familiar Shepherd's Psalm (Psalm 23) begins with this statement of assurance: The Lord is my Shepherd, I have everything that I need. And that's very true in my life.
Last week in worship we sang the old Thanksgiving hymn, "Come, Ye Thankful People Come." I quickly locked onto a phrase that I hadn't really thought about before. The first verse reads: God our Maker doth provide for our wants to be supplied. Our wants. I have always just been satisfied to know that God knows what I need and He supplies it. But this presents an even fuller picture: He will supply my wants.
And that my friends is why, for me, the cup is neither half full or half empty. It truly over-flows, no matter what the circumstances. I am truly, truly blessed.
Here's my perspective: This has been a hard year. I was frustrated with my job, but passionate about it and more than willing to make it work. Nelson had a good paying job, but was in horrible pain. June came and he had another surgery. One week later I lost my job. Ann moved to Alabama with a guy we didn't know and signed Caden over to her ex. I couldn't find a full-time job. Nelson is still of on disability.
I could whine about that and stomp my feet, shaking my hand at heaven declaring the unfairness of it all. But that's not me. Instead, I choose to see provision and blessing.
We are blessed that Nelson was employed and that his employer has been patient while he heals. He will be going back to work as soon as the doctor releases him.
We are blessed that I was able to find not one but two part-time jobs and while it has stretched us we are current on all our bills. Money comes through right on time--and many friends have been generous to help us on that account.
We are blessed that my employer at Curves has been willing to work with me on my schedule and the other worker where I provide care for Ma'am has been flexible to share hours so that I will be able to care for Asher in the evenings when Nelson goes back to work. (If I had gotten a different job, or jobs, my schedule might not been as flexible.)
We are blessed because though Ann is far away now, we get Caden next week and Penelope for three weeks after that! And Ann and her beau are moving to just outside Missouri and will be six hours closer. Communication and relationship (though shakey) has been restored between her and her dad.
We are blessed to be part of a great church family and to be a part of a very, very special Sunday School class.
I am particularly blessed to have gotten training in grant writing and have the opportunity to work with a couple local ministries to get that started. Through that I am beginning to make some friends.
The very familiar Shepherd's Psalm (Psalm 23) begins with this statement of assurance: The Lord is my Shepherd, I have everything that I need. And that's very true in my life.
Last week in worship we sang the old Thanksgiving hymn, "Come, Ye Thankful People Come." I quickly locked onto a phrase that I hadn't really thought about before. The first verse reads: God our Maker doth provide for our wants to be supplied. Our wants. I have always just been satisfied to know that God knows what I need and He supplies it. But this presents an even fuller picture: He will supply my wants.
And that my friends is why, for me, the cup is neither half full or half empty. It truly over-flows, no matter what the circumstances. I am truly, truly blessed.
Saturday, November 1, 2008
Crushed and Overwhelmed
We were crushed and completely overwhelmed, and we thought we would never live through it. In fact, we expected to die. But as a result, we learned not to rely on ourselves, but on God who can raise the dead. And he did deliver us from mortal danger. And we are confident he will continue to deliver us. (2 Corinthians 1:8b-10.
Over the course of my spiritual journey, I have referred to a later passage in this letter where Paul describes his “down but not out” life (see 2 Cor. 4). I used that passage to bolster my weary heart, telling myself in essence, “it could be worse; God won’t let me hit the bottom.”
Paul seems to be saying something very different in the verses above. Just after sharing that we are comforted in order to share God’s comfort with one another, Paul describes a very deep low in his life. Notice he states that he was:
-crushed
-completely overwhelmed
-and expected to die
In the words of the Amplified version: we were so utterly and unbearably weighed down and crushed that we despaired even of life [itself].
Paul seems clear on a primary lesson learned from his despair: dependence upon God. I was raised in a “bootstraps” home. Perhaps you’re familiar with the philosophy of raising one’s self up by their bootstraps. Growing up the message I received was that I couldn’t really count on anyone and if I wanted a job done right I needed to do it myself. As I reflect on that and the course of my life, I am immediately struck by the exceedingly great number of people who through their reaching out to me have demonstrated the fallacy of that kind of thinking. Just this summer, when we were going through a particularly difficult financial time, a widow in our Sunday School class wrote me a very generous check. Here was what she said to me, “God wants me to do this. Since my husband died I’ve had more than enough. If I leave this in the bank, I’ll depend on the money and not God—and I don’t want to do that.”
I will confess there were times this summer when I questioned what God was doing. Nelson was depressed after his surgery, I lost my job and my sense of purpose, finances were very tight, our one daughter moved away and the other moved into her own apartment. There’s an insane legal issue hanging over my head that can affect me for the rest of my life. The stock market plummeted and we’ve had to sell off thousands of dollars. Several times Nelson has started a conversation about our finances and I zone out because I just can’t bear to hear more bad news. And the question that rises in me is “how are we going to do this God?” And he reminds me that he is still in control.
One of the other things that I noticed when I read this passage was that doesn’t say that God made life all rosy. This comfort that Paul speaks so much about in the opening verses does not necessarily take away the pain. Paul says that he was delivered from mortal danger, his life was spared. This reminds me of Job. When the great testing came upon Job from Satan, God told Satan he could touch him however he wished but he could not take his life.
There have been times during my adult/married life when things were tough and I watched Nelson struggling to make ends meet for us when I actually talked to God about how it might be better off for Nelson if I was dead. The twisted thinking there was that I knew that Nelson had a $250,000 life insurance policy on me and I thought he could use the money more than the financial worry. I couldn’t even go there this summer because for the first time in our married life we had to cancel our life insurance because we could afford it. Can’t afford to live…can’t afford to die.
Yes, Paul, I understand feeling crushed and completely overwhelmed. Thankfully, I also know how to be dependent upon God. God put me right here, on purpose. I am surrounded by the exact people I need. I have the work opportunities that he wants me to have—when he wants me to have them. It will do me no good to try and rush things or whine about my circumstances.
Circumstances. Here’s what I know about those. If my circumstances are the results of my own choices, good or bad, they’re mine. I’m reminded of David as I think about this. He was going to have to face the consequences of his actions with Bathsheba. On the down side this resulted in the loss of his child. On the up side, God was with him. Nowhere in scripture do I find that God removes our consequences, but he does promise to walk through them with us. The Word is very clear on this: never will I leave you, never will I forsake you.
And he will continue to deliver us. In Lamentations we read that God’s mercies are new every morning. He moves us on to the next thing.
I’m not sure if perspective and attitude are solely related to our personality and internal wiring or if they are a choice. I tend to be an optimist. I see the possibilities spreading out endlessly before me. The days of my week may hold the same thing over and over, but each day is a new opportunity. Just because the path is familiar, doesn’t mean it has to be boring. God promises to inject into each day exactly what I need. Finding that can be a wonderful adventure. I look forward to discovering my manna.
I feel a little like one of the Psalm writers. Starting off wondering why God would allow the mess and chaos of my life and wondering where in the world God is in all this—and how long it was going to be like this. But then I find myself returning to the truth that makes all the difference: God is here with me; God will deliver me—not just because he can (he has the power) but because he loves me (and that love is lavish).
Over the course of my spiritual journey, I have referred to a later passage in this letter where Paul describes his “down but not out” life (see 2 Cor. 4). I used that passage to bolster my weary heart, telling myself in essence, “it could be worse; God won’t let me hit the bottom.”
Paul seems to be saying something very different in the verses above. Just after sharing that we are comforted in order to share God’s comfort with one another, Paul describes a very deep low in his life. Notice he states that he was:
-crushed
-completely overwhelmed
-and expected to die
In the words of the Amplified version: we were so utterly and unbearably weighed down and crushed that we despaired even of life [itself].
Paul seems clear on a primary lesson learned from his despair: dependence upon God. I was raised in a “bootstraps” home. Perhaps you’re familiar with the philosophy of raising one’s self up by their bootstraps. Growing up the message I received was that I couldn’t really count on anyone and if I wanted a job done right I needed to do it myself. As I reflect on that and the course of my life, I am immediately struck by the exceedingly great number of people who through their reaching out to me have demonstrated the fallacy of that kind of thinking. Just this summer, when we were going through a particularly difficult financial time, a widow in our Sunday School class wrote me a very generous check. Here was what she said to me, “God wants me to do this. Since my husband died I’ve had more than enough. If I leave this in the bank, I’ll depend on the money and not God—and I don’t want to do that.”
I will confess there were times this summer when I questioned what God was doing. Nelson was depressed after his surgery, I lost my job and my sense of purpose, finances were very tight, our one daughter moved away and the other moved into her own apartment. There’s an insane legal issue hanging over my head that can affect me for the rest of my life. The stock market plummeted and we’ve had to sell off thousands of dollars. Several times Nelson has started a conversation about our finances and I zone out because I just can’t bear to hear more bad news. And the question that rises in me is “how are we going to do this God?” And he reminds me that he is still in control.
One of the other things that I noticed when I read this passage was that doesn’t say that God made life all rosy. This comfort that Paul speaks so much about in the opening verses does not necessarily take away the pain. Paul says that he was delivered from mortal danger, his life was spared. This reminds me of Job. When the great testing came upon Job from Satan, God told Satan he could touch him however he wished but he could not take his life.
There have been times during my adult/married life when things were tough and I watched Nelson struggling to make ends meet for us when I actually talked to God about how it might be better off for Nelson if I was dead. The twisted thinking there was that I knew that Nelson had a $250,000 life insurance policy on me and I thought he could use the money more than the financial worry. I couldn’t even go there this summer because for the first time in our married life we had to cancel our life insurance because we could afford it. Can’t afford to live…can’t afford to die.
Yes, Paul, I understand feeling crushed and completely overwhelmed. Thankfully, I also know how to be dependent upon God. God put me right here, on purpose. I am surrounded by the exact people I need. I have the work opportunities that he wants me to have—when he wants me to have them. It will do me no good to try and rush things or whine about my circumstances.
Circumstances. Here’s what I know about those. If my circumstances are the results of my own choices, good or bad, they’re mine. I’m reminded of David as I think about this. He was going to have to face the consequences of his actions with Bathsheba. On the down side this resulted in the loss of his child. On the up side, God was with him. Nowhere in scripture do I find that God removes our consequences, but he does promise to walk through them with us. The Word is very clear on this: never will I leave you, never will I forsake you.
And he will continue to deliver us. In Lamentations we read that God’s mercies are new every morning. He moves us on to the next thing.
I’m not sure if perspective and attitude are solely related to our personality and internal wiring or if they are a choice. I tend to be an optimist. I see the possibilities spreading out endlessly before me. The days of my week may hold the same thing over and over, but each day is a new opportunity. Just because the path is familiar, doesn’t mean it has to be boring. God promises to inject into each day exactly what I need. Finding that can be a wonderful adventure. I look forward to discovering my manna.
I feel a little like one of the Psalm writers. Starting off wondering why God would allow the mess and chaos of my life and wondering where in the world God is in all this—and how long it was going to be like this. But then I find myself returning to the truth that makes all the difference: God is here with me; God will deliver me—not just because he can (he has the power) but because he loves me (and that love is lavish).
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Lamenting
Lament or There’s Nothing Like a Good Whine
Is a lament more than a pity me party? I have always thought lamenting was more about anguishing and yet that is how my very astute friend identified my need. She told me to go home and lament and write about it. I’m so very compliant.
I was and have been afraid to really let myself go to the place I identified as lament because I was afraid of getting stuck there. Even earlier this week I only allowed myself a five minute pity party. Why? My initial answer: my feelings have never truly been validated, not by me and certainly not by others. When I was afraid, instead of trying to understand, others just convinced me that I had no reason to really feel that way. When I felt vulnerable or in over my head, others told me I could handle it all or that I would be okay so just keep going. When I got (or get) angry, I’m told I’m just overreacting.
This has gone on my entire life. My solution has been to just restrain myself and minimize my emotions. Thinking and writing that made me want to just laugh right out loud! I don’t feel restrained and I seriously doubt that others would use that word to describe me. In fact, I’ve always feared I was far too close to a histrionic personality than was good or healthy. As I sit here reflecting on that, I wonder if that behavior isn’t more of a mask or a persona to cover my deeper retrained and denied self. Like clown make-up: a way to keep others from really seeing who I am and how I truly feel. I’m reminded of a reading that is read every retreat weekend by the spiritual fellowship I’m a part of entitled, “The Mask.” At one of those weekends a dear friend and sister in the faith gave the Piety Talk and as a demonstration of becoming transparent took off her make-up. It left her feeling extremely vulnerable as she never goes out in public without her “face” on.
As soon as I was able to get to a quiet place I pulled out the Psalms. My first landing place was Psalm 77. Here are the verses that seemed to express the Psalmist’s lament:
1- I cry out to God without holding back. Oh, that God would listen to me!
4-You don’t let me sleep. I am too distressed even to pray!
7-Has the Lord rejected me forever? Will he never again show me favor?
Two of the Psalms that my friend recommended I read were Psalms 42 and 43. So I did. (Did I mention I’m a compliant sort of person?) I was surprised as I started reading Psalm 42. I was immediately reminded of the worship chorus, “As the Deer.” I have never associated that chorus with lamenting. It has always been a type of prayer for deeper spirituality. Reading on, I felt the writer’s anguish. He writes about thirsting for God because his tears have been his only food while his enemies surround and taunt him.
4-My heart is breaking as I remember how it used to be: I walked among the crowds of worshipers, leading a great procession to the house of God, singing for joy and giving thanks—it was the sound of a great celebration!
6-My God! Now I am deeply discouraged, but I will remember your kindness.
Psalm 43 is more of the same. The Psalmist asks the question “why?” but then seems to very quickly move on to a “but” and reminds himself of God’s goodness. These two Psalms seem to demonstrate more restraint than anguish. Feeling there must be more, I turned to Lamentations.
-2:10 The leaders of Jerusalem sit on the ground in silence, clothed in sackcloth. They throw dust on their heads in sorrow and despair.
-2:11 I have cried until the tears no longer come. My heart is broken, my spirit poured out.
-3:16-18 He has made me grind my teeth on gravel. He has rolled me in the dust. Peace has been stripped away, and I have forgotten what prosperity is. I cry out, “My splendor is gone! Everything I had hoped for from the Lord is lost!”
Jeremiah writes in Lamentations 3:22, “By his mercies we have been kept from complete destruction.” I have often turned to this passage when I needed to be reminded of God’s goodness. One of my favorite hymns seems to find its inspiration in this passage, “Great is Thy Faithfulness.” But I had not really noticed Jeremiah’s words in verse 22 until today: “kept from complete destruction.”
Over the past few years when I have described the injury to my husband’s ankle I use phrases like: completely destroyed, or totally crushed. The doctor described his work as putting Humpty Dumpty together again. Somehow in that I got an image of complete destruction when in reality that just couldn’t be. Just because all the King’s horses and all the King’s men couldn’t put Humpty together again, did that mean he was completely destroyed or they were limited in their ability? It may sound like an odd question until your life feels a bit like Humpty Dumpty and you’re wondering what to do with the pieces. If you’ve got pieces you’re not completely destroyed. God can do something with the pieces. The Gaithers understood that when they penned the words to that old chorus: “Heartache, broken pieces, ruined lives are why you died on Calvary. “
Jeremiah takes up another issue that I have been struggling with: silence. I feel like I’ve been silenced. It has been over four years since I’ve preached. This summer I was released from a job I loved where I had opportunity on nearly a daily basis to teach people. My current working situation has necessitated my dropping out of choir. When my two year old grandson wants you to listen to him instead of having grown up conversations he puts his finger to the side of his mouth and gives a clear, “Shhhh. Stop talking Mema.” The part that is understood in that is that when you stop talking you will then listen to him. I feel like I’ve gotten a “shhh!” from God. I just don’t know what I am supposed to hear.
Once I got home and was able to do some research about the spiritual practice of lamenting. The first article that I pulled up (http://www.umc-gbcs.org/site/apps/nlnet/content.aspx?c=frLJK2PKLqF&b=3929039&ct=5013819) stated quite emphatically that absence of lamenting inhibits our ability to learn from our mistakes and find forgiveness. I’m going to do some more research and reading (I just hunted down a book on half.com by Dan Allendar, “The Cry of the Soul” and put it in watch). I have to figure out how to incorporate this practice into my spiritual life.
Is a lament more than a pity me party? I have always thought lamenting was more about anguishing and yet that is how my very astute friend identified my need. She told me to go home and lament and write about it. I’m so very compliant.
I was and have been afraid to really let myself go to the place I identified as lament because I was afraid of getting stuck there. Even earlier this week I only allowed myself a five minute pity party. Why? My initial answer: my feelings have never truly been validated, not by me and certainly not by others. When I was afraid, instead of trying to understand, others just convinced me that I had no reason to really feel that way. When I felt vulnerable or in over my head, others told me I could handle it all or that I would be okay so just keep going. When I got (or get) angry, I’m told I’m just overreacting.
This has gone on my entire life. My solution has been to just restrain myself and minimize my emotions. Thinking and writing that made me want to just laugh right out loud! I don’t feel restrained and I seriously doubt that others would use that word to describe me. In fact, I’ve always feared I was far too close to a histrionic personality than was good or healthy. As I sit here reflecting on that, I wonder if that behavior isn’t more of a mask or a persona to cover my deeper retrained and denied self. Like clown make-up: a way to keep others from really seeing who I am and how I truly feel. I’m reminded of a reading that is read every retreat weekend by the spiritual fellowship I’m a part of entitled, “The Mask.” At one of those weekends a dear friend and sister in the faith gave the Piety Talk and as a demonstration of becoming transparent took off her make-up. It left her feeling extremely vulnerable as she never goes out in public without her “face” on.
As soon as I was able to get to a quiet place I pulled out the Psalms. My first landing place was Psalm 77. Here are the verses that seemed to express the Psalmist’s lament:
1- I cry out to God without holding back. Oh, that God would listen to me!
4-You don’t let me sleep. I am too distressed even to pray!
7-Has the Lord rejected me forever? Will he never again show me favor?
Two of the Psalms that my friend recommended I read were Psalms 42 and 43. So I did. (Did I mention I’m a compliant sort of person?) I was surprised as I started reading Psalm 42. I was immediately reminded of the worship chorus, “As the Deer.” I have never associated that chorus with lamenting. It has always been a type of prayer for deeper spirituality. Reading on, I felt the writer’s anguish. He writes about thirsting for God because his tears have been his only food while his enemies surround and taunt him.
4-My heart is breaking as I remember how it used to be: I walked among the crowds of worshipers, leading a great procession to the house of God, singing for joy and giving thanks—it was the sound of a great celebration!
6-My God! Now I am deeply discouraged, but I will remember your kindness.
Psalm 43 is more of the same. The Psalmist asks the question “why?” but then seems to very quickly move on to a “but” and reminds himself of God’s goodness. These two Psalms seem to demonstrate more restraint than anguish. Feeling there must be more, I turned to Lamentations.
-2:10 The leaders of Jerusalem sit on the ground in silence, clothed in sackcloth. They throw dust on their heads in sorrow and despair.
-2:11 I have cried until the tears no longer come. My heart is broken, my spirit poured out.
-3:16-18 He has made me grind my teeth on gravel. He has rolled me in the dust. Peace has been stripped away, and I have forgotten what prosperity is. I cry out, “My splendor is gone! Everything I had hoped for from the Lord is lost!”
Jeremiah writes in Lamentations 3:22, “By his mercies we have been kept from complete destruction.” I have often turned to this passage when I needed to be reminded of God’s goodness. One of my favorite hymns seems to find its inspiration in this passage, “Great is Thy Faithfulness.” But I had not really noticed Jeremiah’s words in verse 22 until today: “kept from complete destruction.”
Over the past few years when I have described the injury to my husband’s ankle I use phrases like: completely destroyed, or totally crushed. The doctor described his work as putting Humpty Dumpty together again. Somehow in that I got an image of complete destruction when in reality that just couldn’t be. Just because all the King’s horses and all the King’s men couldn’t put Humpty together again, did that mean he was completely destroyed or they were limited in their ability? It may sound like an odd question until your life feels a bit like Humpty Dumpty and you’re wondering what to do with the pieces. If you’ve got pieces you’re not completely destroyed. God can do something with the pieces. The Gaithers understood that when they penned the words to that old chorus: “Heartache, broken pieces, ruined lives are why you died on Calvary. “
Jeremiah takes up another issue that I have been struggling with: silence. I feel like I’ve been silenced. It has been over four years since I’ve preached. This summer I was released from a job I loved where I had opportunity on nearly a daily basis to teach people. My current working situation has necessitated my dropping out of choir. When my two year old grandson wants you to listen to him instead of having grown up conversations he puts his finger to the side of his mouth and gives a clear, “Shhhh. Stop talking Mema.” The part that is understood in that is that when you stop talking you will then listen to him. I feel like I’ve gotten a “shhh!” from God. I just don’t know what I am supposed to hear.
Once I got home and was able to do some research about the spiritual practice of lamenting. The first article that I pulled up (http://www.umc-gbcs.org/site/apps/nlnet/content.aspx?c=frLJK2PKLqF&b=3929039&ct=5013819) stated quite emphatically that absence of lamenting inhibits our ability to learn from our mistakes and find forgiveness. I’m going to do some more research and reading (I just hunted down a book on half.com by Dan Allendar, “The Cry of the Soul” and put it in watch). I have to figure out how to incorporate this practice into my spiritual life.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Ripples of Consequence
Here I sit in a crowded plane, waiting for take off. What do you do in those moments? I’m never comfortable or relaxed so I do the two things that have the greatest ability to calm me down: I pray and I sing--in my head! While I don’t have a bad voice, I’m not sure those around me would appreciate my hymn selections. Those around me. As I sat there think-singing the verses of I Am Thine and Nearer My God to Thee, a very odd thought popped into my mind. I wonder if Jonah’s on board.
You remember Jonah. God told him to go start a revival in diabolical and dreadful Nineveh and Jonah headed in the exact opposite direction. His disobedience resulted in a horrible storm. The other guys on the boat began to wonder who’s disobedience was angering the gods and therefore to blame for the storm around them, and their possible deaths!
So, I began to wonder who around me was on the outs with God. Then I got one of those God-thumps. You know, the kind where God flips you upside the head with his holy finger to let you know you’ve missed the point “by this much.” Oh, you mean, how has my disobedience affected others? What storms have I caused by walking, living, in the exact opposite direction from where I’ve been called or directed to be? Who have I put in peril because I said no when I should have said yes? Or when I’ve said yes instead of saying no?
Since I made a major mess of my life it’s easier for me to see who my ripples have touched, up close that is. I know this impacted my husband and my children. But I continue to see the ripples as I look at my mom, aunt and uncle, brother and sister. But wait there’s more. There’s daughter’s new boyfriend, his kids and his family. My decision affects them, but creates a new set of ripples for daughter. There seems to be no end to the impact, to my shame, and my brokenness.
This line of thinking takes me in a lot of directions. First, I’m reminded of a little phrase I heard someone use a while back that I know I’ve said a lot. It goes like this: it’s easier to ask forgiveness than permission. It reminds me of my two year old grandson who thinks that a kiss makes all wounds better and saying I’m sorry will fix anything he’s done wrong. Lately he’s taken to exaggerating his sorrow in hopes of covering bigger blunders by saying, “I’m so, so sorry.” Are we any different? We act reactively or impulsively minimizing the consequences by figuring we’ll just apologize and that will set all things right. But we forget to consider the ripples. Who else could be impacted by our choice or our decision?
I’m glad the WWJD thing has lost some of its emphasis. I think far too many people asked the question without really understanding what Jesus would. They couldn’t because they really didn’t know Jesus and his radical way of thinking. I’m reminded of the time in John where it says that Jesus “had” to go through Samaria and he ended up meeting the woman at the well. If you get a chance check that one out on the map. Jesus didn’t have to take that route, there were other ways to get to where he was going, ways that would have taken less time and would not have put him in a situation where he would meet up with a woman of questionable repute. If Jesus thought like a businessman or marketing specialist, he definitely would have gone a different way. His “had” was about something far deeper, but you wouldn’t know that if you didn’t understand Jesus.
Jesus had the big picture of God’s love in mind. He was keenly aware that he was to be about his father’s business. I don’t know about you, but I lose sight of that sometimes. And consequently, I lose sight of the consequences, the ripples, of my choices. I hate to admit it, but I’m more like Esau than I ever realized. It’s amazing what I’ll give up when my belly’s growling and that stew smells so good. I get lost in the need or importance of the immediate and in my lostness or impetuousness I act/react without thinking and then rue the decision with all the angst of David that we find in his great Psalm 51.
Do you think anybody else on that plane wondered if Jonah was on board? I’m doubting it. As the plane leveled out to cruising altitude the pilot turned off the seatbelt sign. We were lulled into a sense of security by the purr of the engines. Interestingly, we were told that while we could now move about the cabin (aka: make a beeline to the toilet) while we were seated we should keep our belts buckled since we never knew when would encounter turbulence. Life is like that. You never know when the ripples are going to rise. That should have us doing two things: being proactive in our decisions, conscious of the consequences as much as we can be; and our reaction should always be one of humility. It’s not enough to be “so, so sorry.” We have to be broken, open, and dependent upon God. It’s the only way to ride the waves.
I made it to my destination that day. But my journey, is far from over.
You remember Jonah. God told him to go start a revival in diabolical and dreadful Nineveh and Jonah headed in the exact opposite direction. His disobedience resulted in a horrible storm. The other guys on the boat began to wonder who’s disobedience was angering the gods and therefore to blame for the storm around them, and their possible deaths!
So, I began to wonder who around me was on the outs with God. Then I got one of those God-thumps. You know, the kind where God flips you upside the head with his holy finger to let you know you’ve missed the point “by this much.” Oh, you mean, how has my disobedience affected others? What storms have I caused by walking, living, in the exact opposite direction from where I’ve been called or directed to be? Who have I put in peril because I said no when I should have said yes? Or when I’ve said yes instead of saying no?
Since I made a major mess of my life it’s easier for me to see who my ripples have touched, up close that is. I know this impacted my husband and my children. But I continue to see the ripples as I look at my mom, aunt and uncle, brother and sister. But wait there’s more. There’s daughter’s new boyfriend, his kids and his family. My decision affects them, but creates a new set of ripples for daughter. There seems to be no end to the impact, to my shame, and my brokenness.
This line of thinking takes me in a lot of directions. First, I’m reminded of a little phrase I heard someone use a while back that I know I’ve said a lot. It goes like this: it’s easier to ask forgiveness than permission. It reminds me of my two year old grandson who thinks that a kiss makes all wounds better and saying I’m sorry will fix anything he’s done wrong. Lately he’s taken to exaggerating his sorrow in hopes of covering bigger blunders by saying, “I’m so, so sorry.” Are we any different? We act reactively or impulsively minimizing the consequences by figuring we’ll just apologize and that will set all things right. But we forget to consider the ripples. Who else could be impacted by our choice or our decision?
I’m glad the WWJD thing has lost some of its emphasis. I think far too many people asked the question without really understanding what Jesus would. They couldn’t because they really didn’t know Jesus and his radical way of thinking. I’m reminded of the time in John where it says that Jesus “had” to go through Samaria and he ended up meeting the woman at the well. If you get a chance check that one out on the map. Jesus didn’t have to take that route, there were other ways to get to where he was going, ways that would have taken less time and would not have put him in a situation where he would meet up with a woman of questionable repute. If Jesus thought like a businessman or marketing specialist, he definitely would have gone a different way. His “had” was about something far deeper, but you wouldn’t know that if you didn’t understand Jesus.
Jesus had the big picture of God’s love in mind. He was keenly aware that he was to be about his father’s business. I don’t know about you, but I lose sight of that sometimes. And consequently, I lose sight of the consequences, the ripples, of my choices. I hate to admit it, but I’m more like Esau than I ever realized. It’s amazing what I’ll give up when my belly’s growling and that stew smells so good. I get lost in the need or importance of the immediate and in my lostness or impetuousness I act/react without thinking and then rue the decision with all the angst of David that we find in his great Psalm 51.
Do you think anybody else on that plane wondered if Jonah was on board? I’m doubting it. As the plane leveled out to cruising altitude the pilot turned off the seatbelt sign. We were lulled into a sense of security by the purr of the engines. Interestingly, we were told that while we could now move about the cabin (aka: make a beeline to the toilet) while we were seated we should keep our belts buckled since we never knew when would encounter turbulence. Life is like that. You never know when the ripples are going to rise. That should have us doing two things: being proactive in our decisions, conscious of the consequences as much as we can be; and our reaction should always be one of humility. It’s not enough to be “so, so sorry.” We have to be broken, open, and dependent upon God. It’s the only way to ride the waves.
I made it to my destination that day. But my journey, is far from over.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Welcomed Interruptions
I finished a book today. Nouwen Then, Personal Reflections on Henri. It was more like a conversation than a book. Different authors shared of their encounters with or the impact upon their lives by Henri Nouwen. Yesterday I read two things that really made a difference in my thinking—at least for the day, but hopefully longer.
The first thing had to do with interruptions. How do you feel about them? Typically, they annoy me. Delays in traffic, things or people who crimp my schedule, spillage and breakage, can all jolt me into a frustrated mess of emotional upheaval. I just don’t like them. It’s as if my mind has one channel to work on. For example, I’m trying to write this early in the morning before everyone wakes up and the phone rings. I hurry to answer it quickly and it’s some telemarketer with an offer to get me quick money. Oh great, now the neighbor thinks he has to weed eat and edge around his house. How am I supposed to concentrate?
I have read many times about the lives of saints and missionaries who have some superhuman ability to accept the unexpected with grace and a level of excited anticipation that reflects the spirit of Jesus in a way I’ll never be able to achieve. Nouwen describes this ability, this gracious acceptance of life’s interruptions as hospitality. Persons with this gift have the ability to open their lives as they would open their homes to unexpected visitors. Rather than experiencing the interruption as a problem or annoyance they are seen as an opportunity. The problem for most of us is that our lives, like our homes, are crammed with so much stuff, that there is very little room for welcoming left.
Yesterday when I was trying to read and digest this material, I had made my way to my attic office/sanctuary. My quiet was soon to be shattered by three lively and joyous grandchildren bent on having fun and having it loudly. I sighed; something my family says I do a lot. I just wanted a few minutes of quiet to read. Was that too much to ask for? They not only wanted to play in my space they required my attention. The air was filled with a chorus of, “Look at me, Mema.”
I was going to ask them to stop when the words of the book landed heavy on my reality. What about this opportunity? My grandkids are not annoyances; they are amazing and precious gifts to my life. They are only little for the briefest of times and soon they won’t care if Mema sees what they’re doing. Their laughter will not fill every corner of my house or my heart. Of course I’ll look. Of course I’ll count. Of course I’ll do whatever.
Is the woman needing to check out before me at the grocery any less important? Perhaps I could use the time sitting waiting in construction to pray for all the requests that come my way. Maybe the time spent with a coworker trying to figure out what’s wrong with my email is a great opportunity to build friendship and foundation to talk with her about Jesus. Could it be that having to wait in line at the bank will slow me up just enough that I will cross paths with someone whose life only I can touch? And when I face each situation will I see it as an opportunity and welcome it or just a frustrating delay I just have to live with and get through?
Sounds like the children are awake. Two of them will be leaving today. Excuse me while I go play with my favorite interruptions. How will you welcome yours today?
The first thing had to do with interruptions. How do you feel about them? Typically, they annoy me. Delays in traffic, things or people who crimp my schedule, spillage and breakage, can all jolt me into a frustrated mess of emotional upheaval. I just don’t like them. It’s as if my mind has one channel to work on. For example, I’m trying to write this early in the morning before everyone wakes up and the phone rings. I hurry to answer it quickly and it’s some telemarketer with an offer to get me quick money. Oh great, now the neighbor thinks he has to weed eat and edge around his house. How am I supposed to concentrate?
I have read many times about the lives of saints and missionaries who have some superhuman ability to accept the unexpected with grace and a level of excited anticipation that reflects the spirit of Jesus in a way I’ll never be able to achieve. Nouwen describes this ability, this gracious acceptance of life’s interruptions as hospitality. Persons with this gift have the ability to open their lives as they would open their homes to unexpected visitors. Rather than experiencing the interruption as a problem or annoyance they are seen as an opportunity. The problem for most of us is that our lives, like our homes, are crammed with so much stuff, that there is very little room for welcoming left.
Yesterday when I was trying to read and digest this material, I had made my way to my attic office/sanctuary. My quiet was soon to be shattered by three lively and joyous grandchildren bent on having fun and having it loudly. I sighed; something my family says I do a lot. I just wanted a few minutes of quiet to read. Was that too much to ask for? They not only wanted to play in my space they required my attention. The air was filled with a chorus of, “Look at me, Mema.”
I was going to ask them to stop when the words of the book landed heavy on my reality. What about this opportunity? My grandkids are not annoyances; they are amazing and precious gifts to my life. They are only little for the briefest of times and soon they won’t care if Mema sees what they’re doing. Their laughter will not fill every corner of my house or my heart. Of course I’ll look. Of course I’ll count. Of course I’ll do whatever.
Is the woman needing to check out before me at the grocery any less important? Perhaps I could use the time sitting waiting in construction to pray for all the requests that come my way. Maybe the time spent with a coworker trying to figure out what’s wrong with my email is a great opportunity to build friendship and foundation to talk with her about Jesus. Could it be that having to wait in line at the bank will slow me up just enough that I will cross paths with someone whose life only I can touch? And when I face each situation will I see it as an opportunity and welcome it or just a frustrating delay I just have to live with and get through?
Sounds like the children are awake. Two of them will be leaving today. Excuse me while I go play with my favorite interruptions. How will you welcome yours today?
Monday, August 25, 2008
Thoughts on Prayer
How many times have you heard someone fussing or fuming about not feeling like their prayers were answered? Like a little child who wants it all and wants it now, even if it’s not good for them, we stomp our little feet before God and demand with all the maturity and understanding of over-tired two year old. How God must shake his head at us.
You see, I live with a two year old, who is often overly tired, and who wants what he wants when he wants it—and get can get pretty vocal when my response is no, or not yet, or wait. He is only able to sense the moment and has no idea of time or the vast array of consequences. He has some trust of me and my ability to provide, but that can be overshadowed by the hugeness of his immediate want. How come I don’t get it? Why am I being so awful and withholding? Or worse yet, he thought I could do anything—now, he’s just not so sure.
Sound like anyone you know? Spiritually speaking, as adults we can get pretty caught up acting like my grandson. I’ve learned a few things about praying over the years. Here are a few things that have helped me:
First, hang on. Just because our need or want is pressing and we feel its intense urgency doesn’t mean that we’re going to die if that need is not met immediately. We have to trust that life is process and just like an assembly line, we have to wait for everything to be in place. It’s not good to rush the process. As fruit takes time to ripen our lives are involved in a maturing and growing process, too. When I think of this I am reminded of how Sarah tried to rush God’s process by providing Abraham with her maid servant to create the child God promised. It seemed like an option, but it was disastrous and we’ve been paying the price ever since. Or think of Joseph in the prison in Egypt. I’m sure he and God had some long talks. I’m sure he wondered how long and where was God. But if you read the story in the end he was right where he needed to be to not only meet the needs of a country, but also his family. In the gospels we read a powerful phrase: in the fullness of time. This basically means: when all the pieces come together. Trust that God is working and watch for the pieces to fall into place.
Another thing that I have learned is that prayer is conversation with God. Now that means a couple things to me. First, I don’t have to get all fancy or follow some format to have a conversation with God. No fancy phrases or formulas are required. There’s no magic to it except just doing it. A friend was asked to bring the morning prayer in church one Sunday, a typically formal activity. As he began to pray he asked God to “slap some wonder on us.” A giggle escaped me, I was overcome by the simplicity and joy of that kind of praying. So many don’t pray because they think it has to be done a certain way or contain certain words or close a prescribed way. Do you worry like that when you’re meeting a friend at a coffee shop to visit over a latte? God wants us to talk to him, share what’s on our hearts and what’s troubling our minds. And then, he wants us to listen to his words of comfort, direction, or correction. That’s the way a conversation works.
Finally, and this is a relatively new concept to me, have you ever considered the “unprayed answers” in your life? These are the graces that come our way when we haven’t even asked, perhaps before we even knew there was or was going to be a need. It was like someone was watching and anticipated what we would need and was there right on time with a provision that we hadn’t expected or sought, but definitely needed. The writer of Lamentations puts it this way: The unfailing love of the Lord never ends! By his mercies we have been kept from complete destruction. Great is his faithfulness; his mercies begin afresh each day (Lamentations 3:22-23). So the next time you’re tempted to grouse about the way your prayers seem unanswered, thankfully run through a list of God has graced your life, anticipating your needs, and showing up right on time with exactly what you needed.
You see, I live with a two year old, who is often overly tired, and who wants what he wants when he wants it—and get can get pretty vocal when my response is no, or not yet, or wait. He is only able to sense the moment and has no idea of time or the vast array of consequences. He has some trust of me and my ability to provide, but that can be overshadowed by the hugeness of his immediate want. How come I don’t get it? Why am I being so awful and withholding? Or worse yet, he thought I could do anything—now, he’s just not so sure.
Sound like anyone you know? Spiritually speaking, as adults we can get pretty caught up acting like my grandson. I’ve learned a few things about praying over the years. Here are a few things that have helped me:
First, hang on. Just because our need or want is pressing and we feel its intense urgency doesn’t mean that we’re going to die if that need is not met immediately. We have to trust that life is process and just like an assembly line, we have to wait for everything to be in place. It’s not good to rush the process. As fruit takes time to ripen our lives are involved in a maturing and growing process, too. When I think of this I am reminded of how Sarah tried to rush God’s process by providing Abraham with her maid servant to create the child God promised. It seemed like an option, but it was disastrous and we’ve been paying the price ever since. Or think of Joseph in the prison in Egypt. I’m sure he and God had some long talks. I’m sure he wondered how long and where was God. But if you read the story in the end he was right where he needed to be to not only meet the needs of a country, but also his family. In the gospels we read a powerful phrase: in the fullness of time. This basically means: when all the pieces come together. Trust that God is working and watch for the pieces to fall into place.
Another thing that I have learned is that prayer is conversation with God. Now that means a couple things to me. First, I don’t have to get all fancy or follow some format to have a conversation with God. No fancy phrases or formulas are required. There’s no magic to it except just doing it. A friend was asked to bring the morning prayer in church one Sunday, a typically formal activity. As he began to pray he asked God to “slap some wonder on us.” A giggle escaped me, I was overcome by the simplicity and joy of that kind of praying. So many don’t pray because they think it has to be done a certain way or contain certain words or close a prescribed way. Do you worry like that when you’re meeting a friend at a coffee shop to visit over a latte? God wants us to talk to him, share what’s on our hearts and what’s troubling our minds. And then, he wants us to listen to his words of comfort, direction, or correction. That’s the way a conversation works.
Finally, and this is a relatively new concept to me, have you ever considered the “unprayed answers” in your life? These are the graces that come our way when we haven’t even asked, perhaps before we even knew there was or was going to be a need. It was like someone was watching and anticipated what we would need and was there right on time with a provision that we hadn’t expected or sought, but definitely needed. The writer of Lamentations puts it this way: The unfailing love of the Lord never ends! By his mercies we have been kept from complete destruction. Great is his faithfulness; his mercies begin afresh each day (Lamentations 3:22-23). So the next time you’re tempted to grouse about the way your prayers seem unanswered, thankfully run through a list of God has graced your life, anticipating your needs, and showing up right on time with exactly what you needed.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Learning to Trust
Today was a good day at church. Nelson was moving a little slow, so I took advantage and decided to walk to church. Asher wanted to come, too, so we walked. He was just chattering away. It was a really good way to get my head and heart in the right place.
Our lesson in ABF was the “Okay” of prayer. Following up our past two lessons on “why?” today we considered the position of acceptance. We started by looking at Job and his response in chapter one: The Lord gives and the Lord takes away, blessed be the name of the Lord. Dr. Flora went on to present Paul’s life and how he responded to his light and momentary troubles. Please read that and understand it ‘s quite tongue in cheek. Paul describes the extraordinarily horrific trials he went through in his time of service (see 2 Corinthians 11:23-29).
As a class we were invited to consider people we knew who struggled with overwhelming circumstances and came out on the side of faith. I immediately thought of the mother of one of my good friends in high school. She died as the result of the ravages of breast cancer leaving behind five children between the ages of five and fifteen. Her sweet, encouraging spirit touched my life and her words have been foundational to my faith: never give up. No matter what, never give up.
Right now, I feel pretty overwhelmed. There are so many directions I can go. And while I’m familiar with some of what I think I want to do, I feel like I’m walking completely into the dark. I don’t know how to give up, but I’m not sure how to go on either.
Then I found these verses:
8 We think you ought to know, dear brothers and sisters,[a] about the trouble we went through in the province of Asia. We were crushed and overwhelmed beyond our ability to endure, and we thought we would never live through it. 9 In fact, we expected to die. But as a result, we stopped relying on ourselves and learned to rely only on God, who raises the dead…And we are confident that he will continue to deliver us. (2 Corinthians 1:8-10)
A God who can raise the dead is worthy of my trust. I can rely on that even when I can’t see where my next foot will fall.
Two more thoughts were quite powerful for me. The first thing had to do with answered prayer. We talk a lot about it, and even more about the times when we think our prayers aren’t answered. But the teacher posed this question: what about unprayed answers? What about the times when grace abounds when we weren’t even looking for it?
And finally, did you ever hear that there is only one door for joy and pain to enter your heart? If you close the door to one (typically pain) then you close the door to the other, joy. After Job’s wife, totally exasperated, told Job to curse God and die, Job responds with a question: shall we take the good and not the bad? Job may not have understood why things were happening the way they were, and he may not even have been ready or able to say “okay”, but he was willing to trust God with his questions, his anger, his agony, and his future. I can relate to that.
Our lesson in ABF was the “Okay” of prayer. Following up our past two lessons on “why?” today we considered the position of acceptance. We started by looking at Job and his response in chapter one: The Lord gives and the Lord takes away, blessed be the name of the Lord. Dr. Flora went on to present Paul’s life and how he responded to his light and momentary troubles. Please read that and understand it ‘s quite tongue in cheek. Paul describes the extraordinarily horrific trials he went through in his time of service (see 2 Corinthians 11:23-29).
As a class we were invited to consider people we knew who struggled with overwhelming circumstances and came out on the side of faith. I immediately thought of the mother of one of my good friends in high school. She died as the result of the ravages of breast cancer leaving behind five children between the ages of five and fifteen. Her sweet, encouraging spirit touched my life and her words have been foundational to my faith: never give up. No matter what, never give up.
Right now, I feel pretty overwhelmed. There are so many directions I can go. And while I’m familiar with some of what I think I want to do, I feel like I’m walking completely into the dark. I don’t know how to give up, but I’m not sure how to go on either.
Then I found these verses:
8 We think you ought to know, dear brothers and sisters,[a] about the trouble we went through in the province of Asia. We were crushed and overwhelmed beyond our ability to endure, and we thought we would never live through it. 9 In fact, we expected to die. But as a result, we stopped relying on ourselves and learned to rely only on God, who raises the dead…And we are confident that he will continue to deliver us. (2 Corinthians 1:8-10)
A God who can raise the dead is worthy of my trust. I can rely on that even when I can’t see where my next foot will fall.
Two more thoughts were quite powerful for me. The first thing had to do with answered prayer. We talk a lot about it, and even more about the times when we think our prayers aren’t answered. But the teacher posed this question: what about unprayed answers? What about the times when grace abounds when we weren’t even looking for it?
And finally, did you ever hear that there is only one door for joy and pain to enter your heart? If you close the door to one (typically pain) then you close the door to the other, joy. After Job’s wife, totally exasperated, told Job to curse God and die, Job responds with a question: shall we take the good and not the bad? Job may not have understood why things were happening the way they were, and he may not even have been ready or able to say “okay”, but he was willing to trust God with his questions, his anger, his agony, and his future. I can relate to that.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Of Puzzles and Pools
I love puzzles and I hate them. I’m referring to the jigsaw puzzle here. I have used puzzles a lot in the past in teaching and therapy (individual and group). I have bought many puzzles as gifts. My older daughter in particular has been the recipient of several very beautiful and intricate puzzles. I had a friend who that is all she looked for at garage sales—and the bigger the better! That is the stuff my nightmares are made of!
How do you put a puzzle together? Primarily, I’m a framer. I go straight to the edge pieces and get the outside established before I move toward the center. Then, I’m a clumper. I sort through the pieces hunting for “like” patterns or pieces that go to a specific object or part of the center (a barn, a flower, ect.). And I need the picture. People who just start throwing a puzzle together without studying and referring often to the picture are, in my opinion, strange. Why would you avoid the one help that could get you there more quickly?
How do you feel about someone coming up and picking up the one piece you have been searching for for hours? You have been on a quest so long for that piece that you had to take a potty break and a stretch break. It was during that second break, just as you were walking back to the puzzle refreshed for the hunt, when you see the interloper reach down and nonchalantly pick up the prized piece and casually, as if it couldn’t possibly matter, fit it right into the rest. Then they always say something completely irksome like, “I don’t see what’s so hard about these things. Child’s play.” If you got the right jury, I think they would acquit.
Right now, my life feels like someone came in with a two ton dump truck full of pieces and dropped them right on top of me. I have been given no picture to go by and there are no edge pieces. I am overwhelmed and I don’t know where to start.
I have another feeling. And if you don’t mind me mixing my metaphors, I’ll share it. I’ve been watching a lot of the Olympics. I am awed by the talent, dedication, and team spirit. Strength and speed seems to be bursting forth in every event. And courage. Lately, I’ve watched an abundance of platform diving. You know the one: where kids not even old enough to drive are jumping off the equivalent of a thirty foot building without making a splash. And let’s throw in three summersaults and a couple twists for good measure, or jump off backwards, or insanity of all insanity, start from a handstand. I can’t even do a handstand. As a child, I had to use the wall to do one! But, I digress.
I feel like someone has forced me out to the edge of the platform and is insisting I jump. It probably wouldn’t be too big a deal if I could swim. Nah, that’s not it. I can do the old lady swim to get myself out of the deep end. It could be my fear is that I will hurt myself entering the water. I can’t dive and when I land it will hurt because some part of my anatomy is going to hit smack on the water causing a huge splash (add embarrassment to pain) and leaving an even huger red mark—since there is way more anatomy to hit the water than there was when I was a teen ager and jumping off a platform might have made sense.
Bottom line: I don’t know what to do and I’m afraid to start. There are a lot of reasons to jump in and I’m going to look at them and the fear in upcoming posts. Right now I’m going to utilize avoidance and go to the local Farmer’s Market and do some other grocery shopping.
How do you put a puzzle together? Primarily, I’m a framer. I go straight to the edge pieces and get the outside established before I move toward the center. Then, I’m a clumper. I sort through the pieces hunting for “like” patterns or pieces that go to a specific object or part of the center (a barn, a flower, ect.). And I need the picture. People who just start throwing a puzzle together without studying and referring often to the picture are, in my opinion, strange. Why would you avoid the one help that could get you there more quickly?
How do you feel about someone coming up and picking up the one piece you have been searching for for hours? You have been on a quest so long for that piece that you had to take a potty break and a stretch break. It was during that second break, just as you were walking back to the puzzle refreshed for the hunt, when you see the interloper reach down and nonchalantly pick up the prized piece and casually, as if it couldn’t possibly matter, fit it right into the rest. Then they always say something completely irksome like, “I don’t see what’s so hard about these things. Child’s play.” If you got the right jury, I think they would acquit.
Right now, my life feels like someone came in with a two ton dump truck full of pieces and dropped them right on top of me. I have been given no picture to go by and there are no edge pieces. I am overwhelmed and I don’t know where to start.
I have another feeling. And if you don’t mind me mixing my metaphors, I’ll share it. I’ve been watching a lot of the Olympics. I am awed by the talent, dedication, and team spirit. Strength and speed seems to be bursting forth in every event. And courage. Lately, I’ve watched an abundance of platform diving. You know the one: where kids not even old enough to drive are jumping off the equivalent of a thirty foot building without making a splash. And let’s throw in three summersaults and a couple twists for good measure, or jump off backwards, or insanity of all insanity, start from a handstand. I can’t even do a handstand. As a child, I had to use the wall to do one! But, I digress.
I feel like someone has forced me out to the edge of the platform and is insisting I jump. It probably wouldn’t be too big a deal if I could swim. Nah, that’s not it. I can do the old lady swim to get myself out of the deep end. It could be my fear is that I will hurt myself entering the water. I can’t dive and when I land it will hurt because some part of my anatomy is going to hit smack on the water causing a huge splash (add embarrassment to pain) and leaving an even huger red mark—since there is way more anatomy to hit the water than there was when I was a teen ager and jumping off a platform might have made sense.
Bottom line: I don’t know what to do and I’m afraid to start. There are a lot of reasons to jump in and I’m going to look at them and the fear in upcoming posts. Right now I’m going to utilize avoidance and go to the local Farmer’s Market and do some other grocery shopping.
Monday, August 18, 2008
Things of Significance
Didn’t make it to the coffee shop today. I stopped at Dairy Queen and got lunch, sandwich and a Moolatte, and headed to the park. I found a table under a tree near the pond and I’ll camp out here until children arrive to destroy the serenity. The natural sounds are like a symphony surrounding me. This is tons better than the sterility of the coffee shop—though I will probably appreciate it come the change of season.
So what inspiration drifts into my consciousness as I sit here? Whoa, I didn’t realize there was a working train track right near here! An old man just ambled by with his poodle. I wonder if he was a widower. How many little old men get stuck with poodles after their wives die?
I’m not near enough to the water to hear it, but I love watching the wind push it around. A fish just jumped, creating new rings in the patterns. The wind is really blowing today, not a gentle breeze but gusty. If this were winter it wouldn’t be a good wind, but today, in August, it makes the day more pleasant. There isn’t much humidity today. Is it really August?
A few butterflies have floated by. Are they butterflies or moths, a friend planted the seed of wonder in my mind. Her beautiful pictures of both inspire such awe in me. Her eye and steady hand are God’s instruments—and then the creative things she does to the images. The only word I can think of is amazing.
Sitting here by the water, soaking in the nature around me, thinking about my friend and imagining how her fingers might be itching to be clicking instead of sitting at a desk right now, I wonder. I wonder if I could do this all day. I have been so driven in my work, consumed by being productive. Sitting here now I wonder if it really was about productivity, or was there just a need to look busy.
I sat with that for a few minutes and here’s what I’ve decided: I’m tired. I don’t want to just be busy. I want more than just being productive. If I have to have a job, I want it to be something I can be passionate about. I want it to be significant. Is that where the draw to write is coming from? Do I have anything significant to say?
Can I tell you a story about grace?
Can I tell you a story about friendship?
Can I tell you a story about forgiveness?
Can I tell you a story about restoration?
I was the pastor at South Union Mennonite Church from June 1999 until October 2001. I was their interim pastor. My job was to help them with the healing process and get them ready to call a full-time pastor. This was no easy task as they were terribly wounded and reeling from going through four splits in three years. Rather than deal with things, people just left so nothing changed or improved.
A mediation process was begun prior to my coming. I was empowered to make changes that were going to chafe the staunchly unmovable. It was such a wonderful experience for me. I had a freedom to do things because I knew I wouldn’t be there forever. I was also not no Mennonite so some of my mistakes and exuberance were overlooked and even tolerated and dare I say enjoyed!
But a dark cloud came into my life and I made bad choices and ended up breaking the laws of God and man. I turned myself In for a horrible crime. I quickly resigned and separated myself from the church to spare them from as much of the embarrassment as possible. After I finished my time in jail I engaged in a process of healing with the congregation. First I met with the heads of the congregation and district leadership and a mediation board. Then I came before the elders to ask for forgiveness. It was a tearful meeting. On Maundy Thursday, my husband and I attended the church’s observance of communion and foot washing. The outpouring of love from the people was genuine and healing for us all.
There have been other moments in my journey where I have experienced moments of healing and restoration. A few years back I was interviewing with board members of a ministry that works with people who struggle with issues related to their felony convictions. One of the members asked if I had been restored. It was a good question. The more I think about it, the more I am convinced that restoration is a process and I’m not sure it’s completed this side of heaven.
So what inspiration drifts into my consciousness as I sit here? Whoa, I didn’t realize there was a working train track right near here! An old man just ambled by with his poodle. I wonder if he was a widower. How many little old men get stuck with poodles after their wives die?
I’m not near enough to the water to hear it, but I love watching the wind push it around. A fish just jumped, creating new rings in the patterns. The wind is really blowing today, not a gentle breeze but gusty. If this were winter it wouldn’t be a good wind, but today, in August, it makes the day more pleasant. There isn’t much humidity today. Is it really August?
A few butterflies have floated by. Are they butterflies or moths, a friend planted the seed of wonder in my mind. Her beautiful pictures of both inspire such awe in me. Her eye and steady hand are God’s instruments—and then the creative things she does to the images. The only word I can think of is amazing.
Sitting here by the water, soaking in the nature around me, thinking about my friend and imagining how her fingers might be itching to be clicking instead of sitting at a desk right now, I wonder. I wonder if I could do this all day. I have been so driven in my work, consumed by being productive. Sitting here now I wonder if it really was about productivity, or was there just a need to look busy.
I sat with that for a few minutes and here’s what I’ve decided: I’m tired. I don’t want to just be busy. I want more than just being productive. If I have to have a job, I want it to be something I can be passionate about. I want it to be significant. Is that where the draw to write is coming from? Do I have anything significant to say?
Can I tell you a story about grace?
Can I tell you a story about friendship?
Can I tell you a story about forgiveness?
Can I tell you a story about restoration?
I was the pastor at South Union Mennonite Church from June 1999 until October 2001. I was their interim pastor. My job was to help them with the healing process and get them ready to call a full-time pastor. This was no easy task as they were terribly wounded and reeling from going through four splits in three years. Rather than deal with things, people just left so nothing changed or improved.
A mediation process was begun prior to my coming. I was empowered to make changes that were going to chafe the staunchly unmovable. It was such a wonderful experience for me. I had a freedom to do things because I knew I wouldn’t be there forever. I was also not no Mennonite so some of my mistakes and exuberance were overlooked and even tolerated and dare I say enjoyed!
But a dark cloud came into my life and I made bad choices and ended up breaking the laws of God and man. I turned myself In for a horrible crime. I quickly resigned and separated myself from the church to spare them from as much of the embarrassment as possible. After I finished my time in jail I engaged in a process of healing with the congregation. First I met with the heads of the congregation and district leadership and a mediation board. Then I came before the elders to ask for forgiveness. It was a tearful meeting. On Maundy Thursday, my husband and I attended the church’s observance of communion and foot washing. The outpouring of love from the people was genuine and healing for us all.
There have been other moments in my journey where I have experienced moments of healing and restoration. A few years back I was interviewing with board members of a ministry that works with people who struggle with issues related to their felony convictions. One of the members asked if I had been restored. It was a good question. The more I think about it, the more I am convinced that restoration is a process and I’m not sure it’s completed this side of heaven.
Thoughts from Sunday Morning
This morning was a rich time in ABF and Worship. Here are some of the thoughts that rumbled around in my mind and heart.
1. Our teacher in ABF has been directing our thinking about prayer by considering the familiar phrases of childhood: please, thank you, I’m sorry, I love you, shhhhhhhhh, and the past two Sundays have been about suffering. Today he referred to the story of Job. He pulled out the section where Job’s wife, out of frustration, told Job to just curse God and die. He skipped over one of my favorite passages and jumped to Job’s rant about wishing he had never been born.
The part he skipped was Job’s response to his wife: shall we take the good and not the bad? It’s such a vital question. As I contemplated this powerful question I was immediately reminded of Asher’s response when he doesn’t get exactly what he wants. He is just the center of our world, and gets or commands all of our attention while he’s awake. And he can pitch one royal fit when things don’t go his way. At this point in his little life everything is a catastrophe and there is little to know ability to accept or understand “the bad.” Many people I know haven’t outgrown this selfish, immature way of thinking.
One of the ways to combat this mentality is to not see loss as loss. What
2. In Pastor’s sermon series he has been addressing different ways that God’s ways don’t always make sense. Today he brought for our consideration the way of the cross: Jesus’ cross and ours. He made reference to the verses where Jesus informs the disciples that if would follow Him they would have to take up their cross. He said something about how we need to hate our life. At the very same time Nelson and I went woo-hoo. No question there are many things about our lives we hate right now. Okay, maybe that’s not what the scripture meant—or Pastor, for that matter, but perhaps it is the seedbed of what we really need to grasp.
For many years, I couldn’t hope for heaven because life here was so good. Not only did I not long for heaven, I didn’t go deeper in my spiritual walk either because I didn’t “feel” a need to. Life has not been easy, or very enjoyable in recent years (except for the addition of grandkids) and I cannot imagine a day where I didn’t depend on God’s strength and grace to get me through. I don’t love my life more than God. I don’t love my things more than God—woo hoo! I think I got it!
3. Pastor went on in his message and discussed “the value of a soul.” Nelson and I must have been on the same wavelink this morning because we both were struck by this one. It seems to us that part of the disinterest that unbelievers have is related to not understanding the value of a soul. How can they be interested or impacted by our passion for their soul? Our culture has been inundated with the immediate and disposable: nothing lasts forever. People buy things that are disposable on purpose because they know they’ll get bored and want to upgrade. People go into marriage (that which used to be to death do us part) already thinking that if it doesn’t work we can always just divorce. People use to live in the same house or at least town their entire lives—there just isn’t any sense of permanence. So the image of living forever, singing around a throne just doesn’t have any appeal. The mentality is much more: eat, drink, and be merry for tomorrow we die.
4. And finally, Pastor’s sermon title was the question: Are you kidding? That’s the question we throw at God when He asks us to do stuff that doesn’t make sense. Pastor referred to Moses at the burning bush. Moses. How could God use this murdering coward who spent 40 years as a fugitive in another country? That’s the question others ask. I ask it differently: could God really use Moses after he wasted so much of his life, with a horrible past that others would cringe at and judge? Please God use Moses. Please God use me.
1. Our teacher in ABF has been directing our thinking about prayer by considering the familiar phrases of childhood: please, thank you, I’m sorry, I love you, shhhhhhhhh, and the past two Sundays have been about suffering. Today he referred to the story of Job. He pulled out the section where Job’s wife, out of frustration, told Job to just curse God and die. He skipped over one of my favorite passages and jumped to Job’s rant about wishing he had never been born.
The part he skipped was Job’s response to his wife: shall we take the good and not the bad? It’s such a vital question. As I contemplated this powerful question I was immediately reminded of Asher’s response when he doesn’t get exactly what he wants. He is just the center of our world, and gets or commands all of our attention while he’s awake. And he can pitch one royal fit when things don’t go his way. At this point in his little life everything is a catastrophe and there is little to know ability to accept or understand “the bad.” Many people I know haven’t outgrown this selfish, immature way of thinking.
One of the ways to combat this mentality is to not see loss as loss. What
2. In Pastor’s sermon series he has been addressing different ways that God’s ways don’t always make sense. Today he brought for our consideration the way of the cross: Jesus’ cross and ours. He made reference to the verses where Jesus informs the disciples that if would follow Him they would have to take up their cross. He said something about how we need to hate our life. At the very same time Nelson and I went woo-hoo. No question there are many things about our lives we hate right now. Okay, maybe that’s not what the scripture meant—or Pastor, for that matter, but perhaps it is the seedbed of what we really need to grasp.
For many years, I couldn’t hope for heaven because life here was so good. Not only did I not long for heaven, I didn’t go deeper in my spiritual walk either because I didn’t “feel” a need to. Life has not been easy, or very enjoyable in recent years (except for the addition of grandkids) and I cannot imagine a day where I didn’t depend on God’s strength and grace to get me through. I don’t love my life more than God. I don’t love my things more than God—woo hoo! I think I got it!
3. Pastor went on in his message and discussed “the value of a soul.” Nelson and I must have been on the same wavelink this morning because we both were struck by this one. It seems to us that part of the disinterest that unbelievers have is related to not understanding the value of a soul. How can they be interested or impacted by our passion for their soul? Our culture has been inundated with the immediate and disposable: nothing lasts forever. People buy things that are disposable on purpose because they know they’ll get bored and want to upgrade. People go into marriage (that which used to be to death do us part) already thinking that if it doesn’t work we can always just divorce. People use to live in the same house or at least town their entire lives—there just isn’t any sense of permanence. So the image of living forever, singing around a throne just doesn’t have any appeal. The mentality is much more: eat, drink, and be merry for tomorrow we die.
4. And finally, Pastor’s sermon title was the question: Are you kidding? That’s the question we throw at God when He asks us to do stuff that doesn’t make sense. Pastor referred to Moses at the burning bush. Moses. How could God use this murdering coward who spent 40 years as a fugitive in another country? That’s the question others ask. I ask it differently: could God really use Moses after he wasted so much of his life, with a horrible past that others would cringe at and judge? Please God use Moses. Please God use me.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
For Our Enjoyment
“Command them to do good, to be rich in good deeds, and to be generous and willing to share.”
This is the part of today’s text that I was planning to write about, but each time I read the whole passage, I kept being drawn to a different portion. Here’s the section I kept reading:
17 Teach those who are rich in this world not to be proud and not to trust in their money, which is so unreliable. Their trust should be in God, who richly gives us all we need for our enjoyment. 18 Tell them to use their money to do good. They should be rich in good works and generous to those in need, always being ready to share with others. 19 By doing this they will be storing up their treasure as a good foundation for the future so that they may experience true life.
Okay, before I continue, which part jumps out the most at you? Where is your hook today? Which phrase or word or concept is God laying out at the door of your heart to contemplate?
I was thinking about the command to be good and rich in good deeds when I couldn’t get away from the phrase in verse 17: Their trust should be in God, who richly gives us all we need for our enjoyment.
Now, perhaps my Puritanical roots have had more of an influence on my psyche than I realized, or I’ve just lived too long in the land of spiritual poverty, but when I read that God gives all we need for our enjoyment, I was stopped in my tracks. I know the verses that remind us that Jesus came that we might have not just life, but abundant life and that David prayed for the restoration of the joy of his salvation. When I read that the Shepherd of the 23rd Psalm gave me everything that I need I assumed that was about the necessities of life, not including enjoyment.
So the question that began knocking about in my mind was this: how have I limited what God has wanted to give to me?
I was just letting my mind wander through my memories and I landed on an incident that happened while I was pastoring my first church. Nelson had a motorcycle then and we went on a ride with another couple from the church. It was the longest ride I had ever been on—and as it turned the longest I would ever go on. We had been out for several hours and were heading home when we rounded a corner that had railroad tracks and lots of loose gravel. Nelson quickly instructed me to hold on. I misunderstood and instead of holding on to him, held onto the bike. Next thing I knew the bike was sliding down the road and so were we.
Fortunately, nothing was broken except a few things on the bike. We were a bit scraped up from our slide. I learned the pain of road rash. As we were in the emergency room, we realized that we needed to contact the church and let them know that we wouldn’t make it back for Sunday evening service. The seniors of our congregation were quick to let me know that our accident was the result of our frivolous spending of time on the Lord’s Day. Somehow I should have known better. It was a mistake that was labeled as immature, both in chronological wisdom and spiritual maturity. Their thinking was: God does not have fun on Sunday afternoons.
Maybe something else was broken that day. My ability to believe that God blesses us with times of enjoyment was somehow damaged. There have been special moments, but somehow I failed to attribute them to God. Most recently (and hugely) was a weekend that Nelson planned last Fall. We traveled to Kansas City (where I met a new dear friend) and enjoyed wonderful food, shopping, the symphony, and a Chiefs game. It was an oasis in a dessert time in my heart. How could I have not known it was a gift from God? Which also reinforces to me what a gift Nelson is to my life.
In just a little bit Nelson and I are taking Asher to a reservoir about an hour away. I played there as a child and then later after Nelson and I got married. Before I lost my job this summer I would stop there occasionally and eat my lunch when I was working in that town. I love that place and today I think God has prompted me to go and play there. It’s an enjoyment, a huge blessing of grace, that God is giving us today. Wish you could come along and play, too.
This is the part of today’s text that I was planning to write about, but each time I read the whole passage, I kept being drawn to a different portion. Here’s the section I kept reading:
17 Teach those who are rich in this world not to be proud and not to trust in their money, which is so unreliable. Their trust should be in God, who richly gives us all we need for our enjoyment. 18 Tell them to use their money to do good. They should be rich in good works and generous to those in need, always being ready to share with others. 19 By doing this they will be storing up their treasure as a good foundation for the future so that they may experience true life.
Okay, before I continue, which part jumps out the most at you? Where is your hook today? Which phrase or word or concept is God laying out at the door of your heart to contemplate?
I was thinking about the command to be good and rich in good deeds when I couldn’t get away from the phrase in verse 17: Their trust should be in God, who richly gives us all we need for our enjoyment.
Now, perhaps my Puritanical roots have had more of an influence on my psyche than I realized, or I’ve just lived too long in the land of spiritual poverty, but when I read that God gives all we need for our enjoyment, I was stopped in my tracks. I know the verses that remind us that Jesus came that we might have not just life, but abundant life and that David prayed for the restoration of the joy of his salvation. When I read that the Shepherd of the 23rd Psalm gave me everything that I need I assumed that was about the necessities of life, not including enjoyment.
So the question that began knocking about in my mind was this: how have I limited what God has wanted to give to me?
I was just letting my mind wander through my memories and I landed on an incident that happened while I was pastoring my first church. Nelson had a motorcycle then and we went on a ride with another couple from the church. It was the longest ride I had ever been on—and as it turned the longest I would ever go on. We had been out for several hours and were heading home when we rounded a corner that had railroad tracks and lots of loose gravel. Nelson quickly instructed me to hold on. I misunderstood and instead of holding on to him, held onto the bike. Next thing I knew the bike was sliding down the road and so were we.
Fortunately, nothing was broken except a few things on the bike. We were a bit scraped up from our slide. I learned the pain of road rash. As we were in the emergency room, we realized that we needed to contact the church and let them know that we wouldn’t make it back for Sunday evening service. The seniors of our congregation were quick to let me know that our accident was the result of our frivolous spending of time on the Lord’s Day. Somehow I should have known better. It was a mistake that was labeled as immature, both in chronological wisdom and spiritual maturity. Their thinking was: God does not have fun on Sunday afternoons.
Maybe something else was broken that day. My ability to believe that God blesses us with times of enjoyment was somehow damaged. There have been special moments, but somehow I failed to attribute them to God. Most recently (and hugely) was a weekend that Nelson planned last Fall. We traveled to Kansas City (where I met a new dear friend) and enjoyed wonderful food, shopping, the symphony, and a Chiefs game. It was an oasis in a dessert time in my heart. How could I have not known it was a gift from God? Which also reinforces to me what a gift Nelson is to my life.
In just a little bit Nelson and I are taking Asher to a reservoir about an hour away. I played there as a child and then later after Nelson and I got married. Before I lost my job this summer I would stop there occasionally and eat my lunch when I was working in that town. I love that place and today I think God has prompted me to go and play there. It’s an enjoyment, a huge blessing of grace, that God is giving us today. Wish you could come along and play, too.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
I Can't Find It
Ok, this is so not intended to be offensive--which means, I know it will probably offend someone.
Here's a question for you: what do you with those emails that come and basically tell you that if you want God to do something in your life be sure to forward this email to five to twenty of your friends in the next half hour? Pass on these angel kisses. If you love your country or our military personal then you pray the enclosed prayer and pass it along because you're just not American if you hit delete.
I am patriotic. I do pray for our troops. But I didn't do chain letters back in the day when we licked envelopes and stamps! What troubles me is that there's somebody out there trying to say that by sending a specific number of email forwards we can convince God to make something wonderful happen in our lives. Am I alone in this?
This kind of thinking, believing--this theology just doesn't seem to jive with what I find in the Word. Yes, we are to ask, seek, and knock--and there is the element of persistence in that. Yes, we have not because we ask not. Yes, we are to come before the throne with confidence and boldness. But emails? Forwards? I just can't find it...
Here's a question for you: what do you with those emails that come and basically tell you that if you want God to do something in your life be sure to forward this email to five to twenty of your friends in the next half hour? Pass on these angel kisses. If you love your country or our military personal then you pray the enclosed prayer and pass it along because you're just not American if you hit delete.
I am patriotic. I do pray for our troops. But I didn't do chain letters back in the day when we licked envelopes and stamps! What troubles me is that there's somebody out there trying to say that by sending a specific number of email forwards we can convince God to make something wonderful happen in our lives. Am I alone in this?
This kind of thinking, believing--this theology just doesn't seem to jive with what I find in the Word. Yes, we are to ask, seek, and knock--and there is the element of persistence in that. Yes, we have not because we ask not. Yes, we are to come before the throne with confidence and boldness. But emails? Forwards? I just can't find it...
Friday, July 25, 2008
Heart's Desire
I sat here last week trying to write an entry about the desire of my heart. I was totally at a loss for words. I couldn’t put two thoughts together that made any sense.
That was then.
For the past two days I have been working out the details of my new venture. In less than a month I’m going to go for grant proposal training. I am going to start a Grant Writing Service.
I have a name: Nexus Grant Writing Services
Nexus comes from the Latin and it means connection, center, core, link, network, union. It is from the past participle of nectere, to bind.
I have a Mission Statement: My purpose is to connect those who serve with the resources that make it possible
I have a foundational scripture verse/principle: 2 Corinthians 9:8
And God is able to provide you with every blessing in abundance, so that by always having enough of everything, you may share abundantly in every good work.
I have the beginnings of a Business Plan. I have started acquiring a library. I have contacted personal resources.
I have asked a few close friends to pray. I would welcome, accept, and appreciate other prayers for guidance. One of the hurdles I asked them to pray about was the funding for the workshop/training seminar next month. I have received the money to make that possible. Not as a loan but as an investment.
Tonight, I googled Nexus and I found this really cool sculpture. It was all intertwined and connected. And as I sat and looked at it, I began to get all teary. It was clear as clear could be I had found my heart’s desire—and I knew what it was all along.
For as absolutely long as I can remember, I have longed for and craved connection. My family’s dysfunctionality was and is expressed in disconnection. My favorite movie growing up was “The Wizard of Oz” and I think it was because I could relate with Dorothy’s search for a sense of belonging and connection.
How do you know when you are experiencing the Will of God? One of the assurances for me has always been the way things fall together. Now, I'm not saying walking in the will of God is easy or without times of questioning. I just mean that it has seemed through the course of my life when God has wanted me to change directions circumstances fall into place, as if a bridge were being built right in front of me step by step by step. And the only thing that makes sense is to take those steps. Nothing about the steps may make sense (financially, or locationally, or changewise), but to not take the steps would make the least sense of all.
I have been looking for a job. It has all been dead ends. We knew from the beginning the factory work was not going to last or be full-time. It doesn't appear that the quality inspection job is going to pan out either. I had to stop focusing on what I could do and begin to consider what I could. And this plan began to unfold before me: step by step.
So how cool is it that God has not only given me my heart’s desire, but begun to let me have a peek at the plans He has for me?! Answer: Way absolutely cool!
That was then.
For the past two days I have been working out the details of my new venture. In less than a month I’m going to go for grant proposal training. I am going to start a Grant Writing Service.
I have a name: Nexus Grant Writing Services
Nexus comes from the Latin and it means connection, center, core, link, network, union. It is from the past participle of nectere, to bind.
I have a Mission Statement: My purpose is to connect those who serve with the resources that make it possible
I have a foundational scripture verse/principle: 2 Corinthians 9:8
And God is able to provide you with every blessing in abundance, so that by always having enough of everything, you may share abundantly in every good work.
I have the beginnings of a Business Plan. I have started acquiring a library. I have contacted personal resources.
I have asked a few close friends to pray. I would welcome, accept, and appreciate other prayers for guidance. One of the hurdles I asked them to pray about was the funding for the workshop/training seminar next month. I have received the money to make that possible. Not as a loan but as an investment.
Tonight, I googled Nexus and I found this really cool sculpture. It was all intertwined and connected. And as I sat and looked at it, I began to get all teary. It was clear as clear could be I had found my heart’s desire—and I knew what it was all along.
For as absolutely long as I can remember, I have longed for and craved connection. My family’s dysfunctionality was and is expressed in disconnection. My favorite movie growing up was “The Wizard of Oz” and I think it was because I could relate with Dorothy’s search for a sense of belonging and connection.
How do you know when you are experiencing the Will of God? One of the assurances for me has always been the way things fall together. Now, I'm not saying walking in the will of God is easy or without times of questioning. I just mean that it has seemed through the course of my life when God has wanted me to change directions circumstances fall into place, as if a bridge were being built right in front of me step by step by step. And the only thing that makes sense is to take those steps. Nothing about the steps may make sense (financially, or locationally, or changewise), but to not take the steps would make the least sense of all.
I have been looking for a job. It has all been dead ends. We knew from the beginning the factory work was not going to last or be full-time. It doesn't appear that the quality inspection job is going to pan out either. I had to stop focusing on what I could do and begin to consider what I could. And this plan began to unfold before me: step by step.
So how cool is it that God has not only given me my heart’s desire, but begun to let me have a peek at the plans He has for me?! Answer: Way absolutely cool!
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Raining Shoes
The devotions for next week were challenging to write. Pastor is planning to do a series for the next six weeks on how God’s ways are not our ways (Isaiah 55:8-9). This week’s theme was on God’s timing, drawing its focus from Habakkuk 2:3, how long Lord?
How do we deal with delay? I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t deal well. Currently I am under-employed. The work I have is sporadic. Now, it’s not that I don’t mind the occasional day off, but the bills which my family and I have created are not sporadic. There has been no movement on the part of Worker’s Comp to come through with payment of my husband’s salary. My severance package is about to make its first step down. I’m trying not to panic, but it’s hard to trust what feels like poor timing on God’s part.
Nelson did point out one very interesting thing yesterday. He is allowed to go back to work on September 8 and that is right about the same time that my severance package will be ending. Just an interesting timing piece.
One of the verses that I reflected on for the devotions next week was Psalm 31:15. I sat in the coffee shop writing and I got really stuck on the phrase: my times are in your hands. I wonder if that’s where Allstate got the inspiration for their slogan: you’re in good hands. If an insurance company can claim that and make good on it, how much more can God? So I began to wonder: do I believe that I am in God’s hands and do I believe that they are good hands?
Back in the days when I was a chaplain/therapist I would ask folks to draw their impression/image of God. I always drew a large hand cradling a small child. I was so pleased to find a figurine of that a few years ago. There is just something so powerful in the image of being held. I guess that’s why I really like the Isaiah passage that refers to being called, held, and kept.
I guess the thing that troubles me is that I have a quivering deep inside. Is it fear? And if it is, why? My head knows I’m held by an all powerful, gracious God who loves me and wants the best for me. Is the quivering natural, like the feeling you get just before the roller coaster goes over the first hill? Satan would try to convince me that the quiver is doubt in the grace and mercy of God. But I know better. I just want to know why it’s there.
I want to know why I have this sick in my gut feeling, and why I keep looking for the other shoe to drop. If Jesus’ promise is true, then I should be expecting joy unspeakable, but I anticipate more negative, loss, and frustration. I don’t like living this way. I just don’t know how not to.
So until something changes, I’ll trust my head, ignore my gut, and dodge the shoes.
How do we deal with delay? I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t deal well. Currently I am under-employed. The work I have is sporadic. Now, it’s not that I don’t mind the occasional day off, but the bills which my family and I have created are not sporadic. There has been no movement on the part of Worker’s Comp to come through with payment of my husband’s salary. My severance package is about to make its first step down. I’m trying not to panic, but it’s hard to trust what feels like poor timing on God’s part.
Nelson did point out one very interesting thing yesterday. He is allowed to go back to work on September 8 and that is right about the same time that my severance package will be ending. Just an interesting timing piece.
One of the verses that I reflected on for the devotions next week was Psalm 31:15. I sat in the coffee shop writing and I got really stuck on the phrase: my times are in your hands. I wonder if that’s where Allstate got the inspiration for their slogan: you’re in good hands. If an insurance company can claim that and make good on it, how much more can God? So I began to wonder: do I believe that I am in God’s hands and do I believe that they are good hands?
Back in the days when I was a chaplain/therapist I would ask folks to draw their impression/image of God. I always drew a large hand cradling a small child. I was so pleased to find a figurine of that a few years ago. There is just something so powerful in the image of being held. I guess that’s why I really like the Isaiah passage that refers to being called, held, and kept.
I guess the thing that troubles me is that I have a quivering deep inside. Is it fear? And if it is, why? My head knows I’m held by an all powerful, gracious God who loves me and wants the best for me. Is the quivering natural, like the feeling you get just before the roller coaster goes over the first hill? Satan would try to convince me that the quiver is doubt in the grace and mercy of God. But I know better. I just want to know why it’s there.
I want to know why I have this sick in my gut feeling, and why I keep looking for the other shoe to drop. If Jesus’ promise is true, then I should be expecting joy unspeakable, but I anticipate more negative, loss, and frustration. I don’t like living this way. I just don’t know how not to.
So until something changes, I’ll trust my head, ignore my gut, and dodge the shoes.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Retrieved
Earlier this week, I picked up one of the books I got at the previous Library Book Sales, Nouwen Then, Person Reflections on Henri. Have you ever felt that books have a timing? I bought this book on a whim several months ago and read as far as the preface before setting it aside. This morning I was so sucked in, I had to force myself to stop and catch a breath.
Here’s one of the things I read this morning that I need to mull over:
Writing is a process in which we discover what lives in us. The writing itself reveals what is alive. The deepest satisfaction of writing is precisely that it opens up new spaces within us of which we were not aware before we started to write. To write is to embark on a journey whose final destination we do not know. Thus, creative writing requires a real act of trust. We have to say to ourselves, “I do not yet know what I carry in my heart, but I trust that it will emerge as I write.” Writing is like giving away the few loaves and fishes one has, trusting that they will multiply in the giving. Once we dare to “give away” on paper the few thoughts that come to us, we start discovering how much is hidden underneath…and gradually come in touch with our own riches. (Reflections on Theological Education)
I’m going to come back to this, but here’s another thought that I just want to throw out there for you to chew on:
Jesus allowed himself to be categorized as a criminal, relinquished any reputation for respectability. In the Greek, to “empty oneself” has the sense, in this passage, of a waterfall continually pouring itself over a cliff edge. This is the kind of Jesus love that Henri Nouwen exemplified so truly, so consistently. He knew the ultimate power of continually sharing his power with the powerless.
I’m sitting here mulling on these thoughts and I looked over at the book I’ve been reading and there, stamped on the bottom edge of the pages is the word “discard.” It seems so wrong. How could they throw away such an amazing book? How could they miss its treasuredness? And that got me thinking…
How many gifts and graces do miss, discard, because I’m too busy or lazy to open them, uncover them? And the answer is: far too many. This is something I need to work on…and let it work on me.
And now, if you’ll excuse me, I have wonderful book calling my name.
Here’s one of the things I read this morning that I need to mull over:
Writing is a process in which we discover what lives in us. The writing itself reveals what is alive. The deepest satisfaction of writing is precisely that it opens up new spaces within us of which we were not aware before we started to write. To write is to embark on a journey whose final destination we do not know. Thus, creative writing requires a real act of trust. We have to say to ourselves, “I do not yet know what I carry in my heart, but I trust that it will emerge as I write.” Writing is like giving away the few loaves and fishes one has, trusting that they will multiply in the giving. Once we dare to “give away” on paper the few thoughts that come to us, we start discovering how much is hidden underneath…and gradually come in touch with our own riches. (Reflections on Theological Education)
I’m going to come back to this, but here’s another thought that I just want to throw out there for you to chew on:
Jesus allowed himself to be categorized as a criminal, relinquished any reputation for respectability. In the Greek, to “empty oneself” has the sense, in this passage, of a waterfall continually pouring itself over a cliff edge. This is the kind of Jesus love that Henri Nouwen exemplified so truly, so consistently. He knew the ultimate power of continually sharing his power with the powerless.
I’m sitting here mulling on these thoughts and I looked over at the book I’ve been reading and there, stamped on the bottom edge of the pages is the word “discard.” It seems so wrong. How could they throw away such an amazing book? How could they miss its treasuredness? And that got me thinking…
How many gifts and graces do miss, discard, because I’m too busy or lazy to open them, uncover them? And the answer is: far too many. This is something I need to work on…and let it work on me.
And now, if you’ll excuse me, I have wonderful book calling my name.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
2 Corinthians 3:18
Today’s Verse: 2 Corinthians 3:18
From the Message (vs. 16-18) 16-18Whenever, though, they turn to face God as Moses did, God removes the veil and there they are—face-to-face! They suddenly recognize that God is a living, personal presence, not a piece of chiseled stone. And when God is personally present, a living Spirit, that old, constricting legislation is recognized as obsolete. We're free of it! All of us! Nothing between us and God, our faces shining with the brightness of his face. And so we are transfigured much like the Messiah, our lives gradually becoming brighter and more beautiful as God enters our lives and we become like him.
Places to ponder:
1. They suddenly recognize that God is a living, personal presence, not a piece of chiseled stone.
I remember as a 13 year old, who just moved to a new town and started attending a church with a dynamic youth group, standing in a grassy spot at a church camp where we were having a weekend retreat. I saw something in my peers that was different. There was a joy and energy and I wanted it. They said it was God. I had been in Sunday School as long as I could remember but I didn’t “know” this kind of God. The God I knew was austere and distant, disconnected from me. I had enough of that! I stood there in the grass in the cool of the evening and held up a clump of Queen Anne’s Lace toward the sky and told God: In 30 days I’m going to know you! Thirty days later there was a special service for the youth. We were in the sanctuary of our formal and very United Methodist Church. The leader of the visiting group did something very odd: he gave an altar call. The concept was completely foreign to me, but so was this personal God. That night my head and heart got together with my spirit and I knelt and prayed for God to become personal to me, in me. He did. And He is.
That was a lifetime ago and I truly can’t imagine being any other way. I’ve gotten mad at Him, broken His rules, tried to follow my own plans, but I always come back. It sort of reminds me of the Skinhorse describing what it means to be real to the Velveteen Rabbit: once you’re real you can never go back.
2. Nothing between us and God, our faces shining with the brightness of his face…our lives gradually become brighter and more beautiful as God enters our lives and we become like him.
I used to be part of a denomination that emphasized perfection. They identified themselves as a Holiness Denomination that preached and taught spiritual perfection. Growing up I was taught the importance of being perfect. It had nothing to do with anything spiritual, it was all about doing things right, being right, and being the best. It was a standard I never felt that I measured up to which resulted in much frustration. I naturally gravitated toward a church that preached a familiar message, even becoming a preacher for them and serving in that capacity for over 20 years. I didn’t get much of the joy of becoming more beautiful as God enters our lives.
How do you do with gradually? Based on life-patterns I really struggle with it. I have always wanted to “be there.” I must frustrate God to no end! My life has been characterized by “rush, rush, rush.” It’s like trying to hurry the ripening process. I’ve eaten far too many fruits before their prime. I’ve also ruined countless meals because I didn’t let the water get hot enough or beat the batter long enough.
I remember reading once that God is never in a rush. The only time He is associated with moving quickly is when He is likened to the Father in the story of the Prodigal Son and when he sees his son a long way off he runs out to meet him. I want to be more like Him.
From the Message (vs. 16-18) 16-18Whenever, though, they turn to face God as Moses did, God removes the veil and there they are—face-to-face! They suddenly recognize that God is a living, personal presence, not a piece of chiseled stone. And when God is personally present, a living Spirit, that old, constricting legislation is recognized as obsolete. We're free of it! All of us! Nothing between us and God, our faces shining with the brightness of his face. And so we are transfigured much like the Messiah, our lives gradually becoming brighter and more beautiful as God enters our lives and we become like him.
Places to ponder:
1. They suddenly recognize that God is a living, personal presence, not a piece of chiseled stone.
I remember as a 13 year old, who just moved to a new town and started attending a church with a dynamic youth group, standing in a grassy spot at a church camp where we were having a weekend retreat. I saw something in my peers that was different. There was a joy and energy and I wanted it. They said it was God. I had been in Sunday School as long as I could remember but I didn’t “know” this kind of God. The God I knew was austere and distant, disconnected from me. I had enough of that! I stood there in the grass in the cool of the evening and held up a clump of Queen Anne’s Lace toward the sky and told God: In 30 days I’m going to know you! Thirty days later there was a special service for the youth. We were in the sanctuary of our formal and very United Methodist Church. The leader of the visiting group did something very odd: he gave an altar call. The concept was completely foreign to me, but so was this personal God. That night my head and heart got together with my spirit and I knelt and prayed for God to become personal to me, in me. He did. And He is.
That was a lifetime ago and I truly can’t imagine being any other way. I’ve gotten mad at Him, broken His rules, tried to follow my own plans, but I always come back. It sort of reminds me of the Skinhorse describing what it means to be real to the Velveteen Rabbit: once you’re real you can never go back.
2. Nothing between us and God, our faces shining with the brightness of his face…our lives gradually become brighter and more beautiful as God enters our lives and we become like him.
I used to be part of a denomination that emphasized perfection. They identified themselves as a Holiness Denomination that preached and taught spiritual perfection. Growing up I was taught the importance of being perfect. It had nothing to do with anything spiritual, it was all about doing things right, being right, and being the best. It was a standard I never felt that I measured up to which resulted in much frustration. I naturally gravitated toward a church that preached a familiar message, even becoming a preacher for them and serving in that capacity for over 20 years. I didn’t get much of the joy of becoming more beautiful as God enters our lives.
How do you do with gradually? Based on life-patterns I really struggle with it. I have always wanted to “be there.” I must frustrate God to no end! My life has been characterized by “rush, rush, rush.” It’s like trying to hurry the ripening process. I’ve eaten far too many fruits before their prime. I’ve also ruined countless meals because I didn’t let the water get hot enough or beat the batter long enough.
I remember reading once that God is never in a rush. The only time He is associated with moving quickly is when He is likened to the Father in the story of the Prodigal Son and when he sees his son a long way off he runs out to meet him. I want to be more like Him.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
The Gift of Psalm 20:1-5
Today I decided to follow up on a blessing and send a thank you email to the teacher/professor of my ABF (Adult Bible Fellowship, aka Sunday School Class) and let him know how much his sharing touched my heart on Sunday. He sent back the kindest email and when he closed it he included “Psalm 20:1-5” with his signature.
Now I don’t believe things like that happen by chance, luck, or coincidence. So, on a day when I have decided to begin a blog focused on scripture I have a scripture to consider. Here it is in several versions:
Psalm 20:1-5
From the Message: 1-4 GOD answer you on the day you crash, The name God-of-Jacob put you out of harm's reach,
Send reinforcements from Holy Hill,
Dispatch from Zion fresh supplies,
Exclaim over your offerings,
Celebrate your sacrifices,
Give you what your heart desires,
Accomplish your plans.
5 When you win, we plan to raise the roof
and lead the parade with our banners.
May all your wishes come true!
From NLT: 1 In times of trouble, may the LORD answer your cry.
May the name of the God of Jacob keep you safe from all harm.
2 May he send you help from his sanctuary
and strengthen you from Jerusalem.[a]
3 May he remember all your gifts
and look favorably on your burnt offerings.
Interlude
4 May he grant your heart’s desires
and make all your plans succeed.
5 May we shout for joy when we hear of your victory
and raise a victory banner in the name of our God.
May the LORD answer all your prayers.
From the Amplified Version: 1MAY THE Lord answer you in the day of trouble! May the name of the God of Jacob set you up on high [and defend you];
2Send you help from the sanctuary and support, refresh, and strengthen you from Zion;
3Remember all your offerings and accept your burnt sacrifice. Selah [pause, and think of that]!
4May He grant you according to your heart's desire and fulfill all your plans.
5We will [shout in] triumph at your salvation and victory, and in the name of our God we will set up our banners. May the Lord fulfill all your petitions.
The things that jump out at me.
1. I love Peterson’s interpretation of verse 1 and specifically his reference to God answering on the day you crash. The moment I read this my eyes welled with tears. When I have told my story I have referred to my crash. The truth is that God heard my cry then and has been listening all the way.
I realized this in a fresh way the other day when I was struggling with a negative thought pattern. I didn’t want to dwell on the negative so prayed that God would remove the negative thought and fill the void with praise. As the day went on, more and more things came to mind to thank God for. There’s no room for negativity in a heart full of thanks.
2. Why the name of the God-of-Jacob? I had to go looking on this one and I really liked what I found! And again, I could really relate. I love the fact that the Bible doesn’t overlook the goof-ups. Jacob. His very name indicated his personality: heel grabber. This kid wasn’t going to take things as they came, he was going to go after what he wanted—no matter what. He was a schemer. And yet God loved him and God’s great mercy met him at his lowest point and point of greatest need. I have been in that spot.
3. Selah. Interlude. Pause. I like the way the Amplified Version puts it: pause and think about that! Pause. I don’t know about you, but I’m a full speed ahead kind of person. I’ve always been “let’s get it done!” I’m way more like Martha than Mary. I look at a hammock and think about getting it for someone else. I need more pause and hammock time in my life…and in my heart!
4. May He grant your heart’s desire and make your plans succeed. Is God big enough to do that? “Man” won’t let me. How can God?
5. As the Old Timers used to say: It’s all done but the shouting. If God accomplishes #4 then there really will be a celebration.
Well, that’s just a first look at those verses. I’m going to live with them for a while. You do it too and see where we come out.
Now I don’t believe things like that happen by chance, luck, or coincidence. So, on a day when I have decided to begin a blog focused on scripture I have a scripture to consider. Here it is in several versions:
Psalm 20:1-5
From the Message: 1-4 GOD answer you on the day you crash, The name God-of-Jacob put you out of harm's reach,
Send reinforcements from Holy Hill,
Dispatch from Zion fresh supplies,
Exclaim over your offerings,
Celebrate your sacrifices,
Give you what your heart desires,
Accomplish your plans.
5 When you win, we plan to raise the roof
and lead the parade with our banners.
May all your wishes come true!
From NLT: 1 In times of trouble, may the LORD answer your cry.
May the name of the God of Jacob keep you safe from all harm.
2 May he send you help from his sanctuary
and strengthen you from Jerusalem.[a]
3 May he remember all your gifts
and look favorably on your burnt offerings.
Interlude
4 May he grant your heart’s desires
and make all your plans succeed.
5 May we shout for joy when we hear of your victory
and raise a victory banner in the name of our God.
May the LORD answer all your prayers.
From the Amplified Version: 1MAY THE Lord answer you in the day of trouble! May the name of the God of Jacob set you up on high [and defend you];
2Send you help from the sanctuary and support, refresh, and strengthen you from Zion;
3Remember all your offerings and accept your burnt sacrifice. Selah [pause, and think of that]!
4May He grant you according to your heart's desire and fulfill all your plans.
5We will [shout in] triumph at your salvation and victory, and in the name of our God we will set up our banners. May the Lord fulfill all your petitions.
The things that jump out at me.
1. I love Peterson’s interpretation of verse 1 and specifically his reference to God answering on the day you crash. The moment I read this my eyes welled with tears. When I have told my story I have referred to my crash. The truth is that God heard my cry then and has been listening all the way.
I realized this in a fresh way the other day when I was struggling with a negative thought pattern. I didn’t want to dwell on the negative so prayed that God would remove the negative thought and fill the void with praise. As the day went on, more and more things came to mind to thank God for. There’s no room for negativity in a heart full of thanks.
2. Why the name of the God-of-Jacob? I had to go looking on this one and I really liked what I found! And again, I could really relate. I love the fact that the Bible doesn’t overlook the goof-ups. Jacob. His very name indicated his personality: heel grabber. This kid wasn’t going to take things as they came, he was going to go after what he wanted—no matter what. He was a schemer. And yet God loved him and God’s great mercy met him at his lowest point and point of greatest need. I have been in that spot.
3. Selah. Interlude. Pause. I like the way the Amplified Version puts it: pause and think about that! Pause. I don’t know about you, but I’m a full speed ahead kind of person. I’ve always been “let’s get it done!” I’m way more like Martha than Mary. I look at a hammock and think about getting it for someone else. I need more pause and hammock time in my life…and in my heart!
4. May He grant your heart’s desire and make your plans succeed. Is God big enough to do that? “Man” won’t let me. How can God?
5. As the Old Timers used to say: It’s all done but the shouting. If God accomplishes #4 then there really will be a celebration.
Well, that’s just a first look at those verses. I’m going to live with them for a while. You do it too and see where we come out.
Beginnings
This morning I was writing an entry for my other blog (out of the mess) and I ended up including a reflection on the daily verse I find over at Facebook. I enjoyed writing the piece and felt a real tug to do more of that. So, I will do that.
The reason I am doing it here is that I want this to not be a journal of my activities and reflections, but reflections based upon the Word. I don't know where or how I will be inspired...I just trust I will be.
And so it begins...
The reason I am doing it here is that I want this to not be a journal of my activities and reflections, but reflections based upon the Word. I don't know where or how I will be inspired...I just trust I will be.
And so it begins...
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