I've had two thoughts tumbling around in my heart and mind lately.
Abide. Dwelling in the presence of the Almighty. Taking shelter under His wings. Choosing to linger in His Truth.
Faith like a child. A love that isn't complicated. A trust that is unwavering.
I feel God pulling me toward Him. I know He wants me to deepen my understanding, but sometimes I'm slow. Fortunately, I have children. It is amazing how God uses my two sweet young ones to teach me. At their preschool, they learn weekly Bible verses. Last week my youngest came home every day and held up one finger for each word as she smilingly quoted, "Do not be afraid, God is with you!" And when she said the word "you" she pointed at me and grinned triumphantly. So, cute. But that wasn't the end of it. At the playground later in the week we were pretending to sail on a pirate ship and my son kept beckoning for my daughter and I to jump into the shark water with him. Of course, I pretended to be quite afraid to do this. She reached over and patted my leg and said quietly, "Don't worry, Mommy. Do not be afraid, God is with you." So,with no more protestations, I proceeded to jump into the shark water. It was as simple as that.
Somehow, though, faith doesn't seem that simple to us grown-ups. We question. We thrash. We resist. Releasing the control of our lives to God requires a humility and trust we struggle to obtain. Yet, He still beckons to us. "Come."
I reread a passage in Acts 27 the other day. If you ever have time, read it. Here is the nutshell. Paul is a prisoner being transported by ship to another location. Paul warns the crew and guards that there is trouble ahead, but they continue on and things don't go so well. Finally Paul addresses them (verses 21-26) with a bit of a rebuke then, "And now I urge you to take heart, for there will be no loss of life among you, but only of the ship...Therefore take heart, men, for I believe God that it will be just as it was told me." And then here is the clincher. "However, we must run aground on a certain island."
Paul trusted the faithfulness and power of God. He believed. His faith was strong and unwavering even in the face of certain difficulty. They would be shipwrecked, but God would spare their lives. Why do we think the Christian life will always go smoothly? Life in this world will be filled with trials. So, what is so different about the Christian life? The answer is Hope. Paul's hope, and the hope of all those on the ship, resided in God's ability to do what He said He would do.
And so, I return to my original thought. Faith like a child. A child is unmarred by the insecurities, fears, and distractions that interfere with trusting an Almighty God who loves them with no end. They cling to that love and trust the Giver of it. As adults, we too must cling to God with an unwavering faith knowing that even though we will, on occasion, run aground, He will see us through it. Therein lies our Hope.
In the days ahead, I choose to abide in the love and power of the One who sees what lies ahead and promises to walk me through it all.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Flood Gates
I have a confession to make. For the past several months, I have been adrift. I thought I was peacefully drifting, savoring the quiet of life, enjoying my family. Over the course of the past few weeks, I have come to realize that while I did need some quiet, I have squandered it. Instead of resting in my Heavenly Father, I stalled out. My mind came to a grinding halt, my heart closed down for the season, and my soul became malnourished. I sought my own way instead of Christ's.
We often buy into the world's message that we deserve "me" time. Our culture sells us music, hobbies, books, pursuits, travel, movies, and other such items of interest with which we fill our time. The world sells us pleasure. What we forget is that their primary priority is not our greater good, it is money. While the things listed above are not necessarily bad in and of themselves, the priority we give them in our life, the strength with which we pursue them alters their value. Pleasure is not bad, but pleasure outside of God is empty, draining, and unsatisfying. In God and in abiding in Him, we gain eternal pleasure.
Psalm 16:11 says...
"You have made known to me the path of life;
you will fill me with joy in your presence,
with eternal pleasures at your right hand."
The past few months have been nice, I suppose. I've had time to read, watch television, play with my children, pursue some of my hobbies, go out with friends, and visit family. All of this sounds great, right? So, why was I feeling empty? Why was I longing for more? Why was I beginning to feel riddled with fear, anxiety, and restlessness? I didn't have an answer until recently. And then it hit me with sudden clarity. God was absent. My dear Savior, the Overseer of my soul, had not been invited. I was lonely for my Father.
The shame of this, or realizing this, almost paralyzed me. But even this is a tool of the Enemy. If he can get me to give in to the guilt, I am blinded to Christ's work on the cross and the forgiveness that is mine as His child. God's grace is sufficient for me.
So, today I am trying to recover from my idleness and seek Him. It isn't easy. Habits have a way of working into your life and grabbing a hold of you with a tenacious strength. God's grace is sufficient.
Recently I read an excerpt from C.S. Lewis' Mere Christianity, Book III, chapter 10.
We often buy into the world's message that we deserve "me" time. Our culture sells us music, hobbies, books, pursuits, travel, movies, and other such items of interest with which we fill our time. The world sells us pleasure. What we forget is that their primary priority is not our greater good, it is money. While the things listed above are not necessarily bad in and of themselves, the priority we give them in our life, the strength with which we pursue them alters their value. Pleasure is not bad, but pleasure outside of God is empty, draining, and unsatisfying. In God and in abiding in Him, we gain eternal pleasure.
Psalm 16:11 says...
"You have made known to me the path of life;
you will fill me with joy in your presence,
with eternal pleasures at your right hand."
The past few months have been nice, I suppose. I've had time to read, watch television, play with my children, pursue some of my hobbies, go out with friends, and visit family. All of this sounds great, right? So, why was I feeling empty? Why was I longing for more? Why was I beginning to feel riddled with fear, anxiety, and restlessness? I didn't have an answer until recently. And then it hit me with sudden clarity. God was absent. My dear Savior, the Overseer of my soul, had not been invited. I was lonely for my Father.
The shame of this, or realizing this, almost paralyzed me. But even this is a tool of the Enemy. If he can get me to give in to the guilt, I am blinded to Christ's work on the cross and the forgiveness that is mine as His child. God's grace is sufficient for me.
So, today I am trying to recover from my idleness and seek Him. It isn't easy. Habits have a way of working into your life and grabbing a hold of you with a tenacious strength. God's grace is sufficient.
Recently I read an excerpt from C.S. Lewis' Mere Christianity, Book III, chapter 10.
"If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world. If none of my earthly pleasures satisfy it, that does not prove that the universe is a fraud. Probably earthly pleasures were never meant to satisfy it, but only to arouse it, to suggest the real thing. If that is so, I must take care, on the one hand, never to despise, or be unthankful for, these earthly blessings, and on the other, never to mistake them for the something else of which they are only a kind of copy, or echo, or mirage. I must keep alive in myself the desire for my true country, which I shall not find till after death; I must never let it get snowed under or turned aside; I must make it the main object of life to press on to that other country and to help others to do the same."
Today I will remember that the things I have enjoyed, though marginally, over the past few months were gifts from God but were never intended to be enjoyed without Him.
Today I choose to come to Him and rest.
Today I choose to learn from Him and find rest for my soul.
Today I will rejoice that in taking on His yoke, my burdens fall away.
Thank you, Father.
Today I choose to come to Him and rest.
Today I choose to learn from Him and find rest for my soul.
Today I will rejoice that in taking on His yoke, my burdens fall away.
Thank you, Father.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Joy
We wish for joy to flash upon us in an instant. Instead I find it creeps in at the seams, soaking into your fibers. The perfect balance of peace and contentment. There is always striving for something, a pull on your being. Those pulls on us rip at our seams and allow joy to escape us. The struggle is to stop long enough to reevaluate, seek the Father. I want my striving to be toward God. It isn't always. Abide. Abide in Christ. He holds us together and completes our joy.
Striving
I feel like the dizzy, blindfolded kid at the party wildly swinging at the pinata and constantly missing. Funny thing is, though, I don't want the stupid pinata. I want someone to take off the blindfold and remove the bat from my hand so I can just enjoy the party.
I've always liked the story of Martha and Mary. It's short and to the point. And it cuts me every time. Here it is...
As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, "Lord, don't you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!"
Why do we strive so for things that mean so little to us? I think striving is a coping mechanism. We strive to hide our fear, to distract us from our worries, to earn perceived value, to hide from the Truth. It is in our nature to work, like Martha. It is His nature to offer grace, to offer us intimate relationship. In some ways I think we run from that because it means He sees us. Even the weakness. And we all have weak moments. But weak moments aren't moments. They are a slow building of our fears, insecurities, expectations, and life. This momentum builds until we are blind to anything but our own view of things. At these times, it is tempting to give in, to indulge the loneliness, frustration, and sadness. But we want to appear strong, self confident, together. So, we strive. We work. We swing the bat at the pinata as if busting it open will validate our existence and show the world that we are successful and valuable. We work in the kitchen and strive to be the best hostess and gain favor with our guests. And as we do this, He waits for us quietly. He loves us. He sees the fear and frustration and accepts us, forgives. He waits for us to sit at His feet and rest.
I want to choose what is better. My heart longs to be Mary in a Martha world, but all too often I find myself still striving. I long for a time of quiet refreshment in His presence where joy is abundant and peace reigns.
I've always liked the story of Martha and Mary. It's short and to the point. And it cuts me every time. Here it is...
As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, "Lord, don't you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!"
"Martha, Martha," the Lord answered, "you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her." (Luke 10:38-42, NIV)
Why do we strive so for things that mean so little to us? I think striving is a coping mechanism. We strive to hide our fear, to distract us from our worries, to earn perceived value, to hide from the Truth. It is in our nature to work, like Martha. It is His nature to offer grace, to offer us intimate relationship. In some ways I think we run from that because it means He sees us. Even the weakness. And we all have weak moments. But weak moments aren't moments. They are a slow building of our fears, insecurities, expectations, and life. This momentum builds until we are blind to anything but our own view of things. At these times, it is tempting to give in, to indulge the loneliness, frustration, and sadness. But we want to appear strong, self confident, together. So, we strive. We work. We swing the bat at the pinata as if busting it open will validate our existence and show the world that we are successful and valuable. We work in the kitchen and strive to be the best hostess and gain favor with our guests. And as we do this, He waits for us quietly. He loves us. He sees the fear and frustration and accepts us, forgives. He waits for us to sit at His feet and rest.
I want to choose what is better. My heart longs to be Mary in a Martha world, but all too often I find myself still striving. I long for a time of quiet refreshment in His presence where joy is abundant and peace reigns.
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