My Exceeding Joy

It has been over a week since I last posted. This is not because I have nothing to say or have not learned anything new; it is because the thoughts in my head are so loud and the reflections of my heart so plentiful that I can barely put into words all that God is teaching me these days. The process is glorious and painful and full of insight. And as of yet, I'm not sure I can eloquently put into words my thoughts.

As I flipped through one of my old journals today, I found an entry that seemed to capture the cry of my heart these days. While I seem to be at a loss for words at the moment, I had the words years ago.

So, here it is...

"Tell me what you long for and I'll tell you who you are."
~James Hillman~

O God, my exceeding joy and delight,
Help me to see you above the fear in my path
To remember that change in direction is not tragic,
Yet forgetting the passion you've placed in my life may be.
Capturing your beauty and truth is light.
O God give me courage to see you in me
And believe I can become what you designed me to be.

I must confess that God has not been my exceeding joy or delight for much of the past year. I've been too caught up in myself, unfortunately. Of course, this was not a conscience choice; it was a gradual and progressive blindness. I suppose that is why my reawakening is so glorious and painful. I'm seeing with new eyes. What I see of God takes my breath away, what I see of myself is excruciatingly painful. During this process I've had one main prayer...

Psalm 25: 4-5
Show me Your ways, O Lord;
Teach me Your paths.
Lead me in Your truth and teach me.
For You are the God of my salvation;
On You I wait all the day.

In praying this and applying it to my everyday decisions, I made a wretched discovery about myself. I wanted to walk in God's ways, but I was actually too afraid to do so. My prayer from years ago is still the true cry of my heart, but I've been stuck on line two and I didn't even realize it until today. I've been afraid. Afraid of what, you ask?

His ways would challenge me beyond my ability.
The way He chose would require me to step out of my blanket of comfort.
I wouldn't be in control.

And the list goes on with even more ridiculous fears. Although, I think the last reason was my biggest one and within it lies the crux of the matter, a lack of faith in God. I say these fears are ridiculous because if I truly believe God is who He says He is, then He is worthy of all my faith and trust. My fear is a lie meant to keep me from really knowing God's goodness and power.

So, I've been examening my heart and seeking God. Last week I reread Psalm 23 and realized I've taken the message for granted. This past week I've dwelled on it. I've wrapped myself up in its Truth and let it seep into my soul.

The Shepherd provides generously and consistenly.
The Shedpherd protects rigorously.
He leads with compassion and wisdom.

Why? Because He loves.

All of a sudden my fears felt small and insignificant and God was very big and powerful and capable. I began to understand. So today I read the first two verses of Psalm 25, the psalm I've been praying for weeks now. These verses made all the other thoughts and ponderings of my heart congeal and take root in my hungry soul.

To You, O Lord, I lift up my soul.
O my God, I trust in You...

Simple. Beautiful. True. God loves me, therefore I put my trust in Him. Much like the sheep who trust and follow their shepherd with unswerving devotion, I must trust and follow God. That must be there before He can show me His ways, teach me His paths, or lead me in His Truth. There is no reason or room for fear. What is left is a joy that endures and a hope that resonates in my soul.

Inescapable

When God has something for me to learn, He is relentless and creative in His pursuit. Circumstances and books and friends have all converged on my heart and mind with the same message, pray. For months now I have been coasting through life with reckless and abandon, quite happy with my quiet life and simple pursuits. Since November, I haven't been able to coast. I'm all shook up and nothing is simple or quiet. In fact, I'm sure I cried more in January than I cried all of last year. And I'm not a crier. It's not even that life is so hard or that things are going badly. It's more a matter of the heart and mind. When you are coasting, you aren't really driving things so much as riding along as the scenery passes you by. Now I'm having to actually drive, make decisions, live my life with intention, and I feel utterly unprepared and ill equipped. I am more aware of the finer details of my life as they are piling up and my need for Divine guidance. My mind is open and alert, my heart submissive and ready, my soul eager. I feel so vulnerable. So small.

I'm learning a lot. And as I learn I find I have even more questions. Growth, at times, is painful. What I'm stuck on at the moment is this, God is in the details. (If you aren't sure about that, read the last chapters of Exodus as God instructs Moses on building the tabernacle, the ark of the covenant, and the priesthood. Reading the Old Testament is very interesting!) He's got them covered, and I just need to trust Him with the outcome. Prayer is not about the details and making God aware of what's going on in my life and how much I need His intervention. It's not about getting answers to my questions and requests. Prayer is about discovering my all powerful, most holy, completely loving God and learning to see His mighty hand at work in this world.

The thing is that it just isn't about me.

Imagine that.

God has my attention and it is inescapable. Sometimes I coast and drift through life because it's easier than remembering that there is much more to this life than my own simple circumstances. Sometimes I get swallowed up in the details of living and think that that is the important stuff. God is calling me to something deeper, something bigger, something with much more purpose and meaning. He is calling me to Him, and He is calling me to prayer.

On Sunday as I gazed out of the window of my plane as it winged it's way back to Texas I found myself in a beautiful, breath stealing world of clouds. Large, bountiful, mysterious lands of white. Below were these tiny dots of land and movement and shadows. The sun blazed on the wing of the plane and outlined the clouds in brilliance. Words abandoned my mind and I felt a lightness in my spirit. For the millionth time in a month, tears came to my eyes.

God did this.

The wonder of it stole away my worries, my pain, my hurt, my time, my words, and my details. All that was left was God in His infinite glory. What was left was prayer, sweet communion with my Creator as He let me see Him.

Inescapable.

I'm so glad it's not about me.

Problem Solving

I like to problem solve; it makes me feel productive and valuable. Listening, for me, is an area of constant growth. People stereotype the man in the marriage as the one who hears his wife and just wants to offer ways to fix it, the wife listens with compassion. Oddly enough, in our marriage, it is often the other way around. But I'm learning.

The thing is I find myself doing the same thing with God. Too often in the past I prayed to talk out MY solutions to life, not listen to His heart. Truth is I don't much like my solutions and when I use them, I often end up in a pickle. (Sometimes, it's an entire jar of pickles.) Then, I'm just weary, frustrated, and confused. God, where are you? Only, He hasn't gone anywhere, I've just moved on without Him.

As I've gotten older, I find that the confidence and the recklessness of youth has faded, and I am much more willing to ask for help and I am learning to listen. The more I know about life, the more I realize I don't know. It's humbling. But the more I realize my imperfections and ineptitude, the more I realize God's incredible strength. He is my everything, and He is enough.

In thinking about prayer this week and about my relationship with God, I've realized that true communion with God requires that I be vulnerable, humble, and well, quiet.

I was reading this week about Moses and the Israelite people as they fled Egypt. One verse captured my attention and I haven't been able to quit thinking about it. Here it is in two translations.

"The Lord will fight for you while you keep silent."
"The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still."
Exodus 14:14

I can imagine the fear and desperation the people were feeling. They have witnessed the plagues on the Egyptians as God provided a way out of slavery for them. Now they are free, but Pharaoh has changed his mind and all of Egypt's army is on their tail. In front of them is a massive body of water, impassable. Behind them, death and slavery. Where are you now, God? What do we DO?

I hate that feeling. Worry, anxiety, fear. That sinking pit of dread that hits you at times when your circumstances are completely out of your control. How to pray then? What to DO?

In this case, the answer was simple. Keep silent. Be still. In other words, don't DO anything except TRUST God.
Even when you are afraid.
Even when you are vulnerable.
Even when your hope is flagging.
Even when the world is falling apart around you.
Even then, trust.

So did God fight for them? Yes, He most certainly did. God's power is limitless. His love is eternal. His forgiveness complete. Our circumstances change, but God doesn't. Our circumstances confound us, but not God. We feel trapped by our choices, God frees us.

I'm learning that being vulnerable with God and not having all the answers is really the best place to be after all. In His infinite mercy, God delights in loving His weary, broken, and tired people. He wants to be my Champion and Defender and Protector and Guide. So, I will...

Trust in the Lord with all my heart
and lean not on my own understanding.
In all my ways, I will acknowledge Him,
and He will make my paths straight.
Proverbs 3: 5-6

God is a much better problem solver than I am. To my utter relief, I gladly relinquish that role.

Meditation and Relationship

Meditation does not come naturally to me. I think that is why it is called a spiritual discipline; it requires a diligent commitment to a course of action. And yet, this week while reading and thinking on this topic, I gained some clarity and a different way of viewing meditation. Joyce Hugget makes this statement in this book, Spiritual Classics edited by Foster and Griffin.

"Christian meditation has nothing to do with emptying our minds.
Christian meditation engages every part of us -
our mind, our emotions, our imagination, our creativity, and, supremely, our will."

Choosing to meditate means choosing to fill yourself with and becoming intimately attached to the object of your meditation. Meditation (or prayer, as some call it) is pursuing a relationship with God. Simple enough, right? What I've noticed in my own life is that meditation connects truth to life. It gives a clarity to my thinking and refocuses my attention. My heart become engaged in living and excited about pursuing my Savior. It helps me clear my mind of the things that weigh it down and lifts my spirit out of this world. Scripture becomes ingrained.

I've notice that since I've been reading the Bible on a more daily basis my mind and heart have been eager for more, like my appetite has been whetted. I am more engaged in the spiritual aspect of my life, which oddly enough, makes the earthly me much more content with life.

Maybe meditation isn't so hard after all.

"We bask in the warmth of his love. We feel his gaze on us. He fills us afresh with his Spirit. We receive a new perspective on life - his perspective. We draw so close to his heart that we sense his concern for the world, and from our contemplation flows intercession as we catch his compassion for a hurting world."
Joyce Huggett

Jesus calls us to this sweet communion in John 15. Over and over again He tells us, "Abide in Me" and later "Abide in my love." Meditation is a call to intimate relationship with the God of all Creation. It is a call to love and be loved. All of a sudden I don't see meditation as so difficult anymore, I see it as a rich blessing. A gift.

Meditate

I recently started reading and discussing with a friend a book about the twelve spiritual disciplines. I have to confess my ignorance when I began the book. If asked, I could not have listed these disciplines and certainly didn't know there were twelve. They are even divided into subgroups. As much as I love making lists, this was one I had little awareness of. If you are in that boat with me, here they are as listed in the book.

Inward Disciplines:
Meditation
Prayer
Fasting
Study

Outward Disciplines:
Simplicity
Solitude
Submission
Service

Corporate Disciplines:
Confession
Worship
Guidance
Celebration

What I love about the book is that it is selected writings of Christians authors and thinkers for the past two thousand years. Wow. The lives, experiences, and collective wisdom represented is a bit staggering.

For the next few weeks we are talking about meditation. I am a very reflective person and love having time to think and process life. Keeping a journal has always been a part of my life, but I don't think I am so good at meditating. (Although with young children, the journaling has fallen to the wayside a bit too.) Meditations requires a quiet composure and stillness that seems to elude me these days.

As silly as it may sound, I've often thought of meditating and marinating as similar activities. Taking the time to meditate on a truth works much like allowing spices to marinate, flavor, and tenderize meat. (Like I said, it may sound silly, but stick with me.) The truth must be given time to sink into your soul and resonate with your spirit. As it does, truth influences your thoughts, and your thoughts influence your actions. All of a sudden, your life is flavored by the time you spent meditating and by what you spent time meditating on.

Truly, I long for this kind of spice in my life, but often I am too busy? distracted? undisciplined? scared? to sit down with my Savior in the quietness of my soul and seek the Truth.

This week I was challenged by Thomas More...

To be content to be solitary,
Not to long for worldly company
Little and little utterly to cast off the world,
And rid my mind of all the business thereof.

Did I say challenge? Indeed. We do not live in a culture that applauds solitude and stillness, and yet that is the very cry of our souls. We are parched by our busyness, we are wearied by our schedules, and we are dying for something meaningful to pierce our meager existence. And yet we fill our free moments with junk food. Well, at least, I know I do at times. And those times I actually try to be still, my mind is a jumble of thoughts or I simply fall to sleep. Sigh.

So, what to do? I was also challenged by Jeremiah 17 : 5-10. Read the whole passage and note the contrast he offers. I'll only quote part of it here, the part that struck me to the core. (The bold is my emphasis, not the writer's.)

Blessed are those who trust in the Lord,
Whose trust is in the Lord.
They shall be like a tree planted by water,
sending out its roots by the stream.
It shall not fear when heat comes,
and its leaves shall stay green,
in the year of drought, it is not anxious,
and it does not cease to bear fruit.

Can't you picture it? A giant, strong, healthy tree by a stream. Lush, green, shady, fruitful. I want to be that tree. Full of trust in the Lord. Deep healthy roots, a strong foundation in Christ. Able to weather life's difficult season's with grace. Peaceful, not anxious. Full of life.

Roots don't form overnight. Strong roots take years and good soil. Again, sigh. Instant gratification this is not. This is work and commitment and discipline. So, how is this rest? God knows our needs and our weaknesses. He understands what it's like to live here, to struggle with flesh and spirit. He knows we need time with Him in order to have relationship, to form our roots. And He knows how easily we get distracted. He knows we need rest and He knows how hard it is for us to find it. There are plenty of scriptures that talk about this, but here is one of my favorites.

Psalm 46:10
Cease striving (be still) and know that I am God.

Somebody down the line in history put meditation on a list of spiritual disciplines, but it wasn't their idea. It was God's design for us from Creation. He rested on the seventh day and set an example for us, not because He wanted us to check meditation off on a to do list, but because He knows how our souls, minds, bodies, and spirits need the rest. He knows that we must choose to do it. Rest. Meditate. Be still.

Mary sat at Jesus' feet and was still. She knew that He was God. She meditated on His goodness. At times I do this, but most of the time I'm still Martha in the kitchen striving. I want to experience life spiced with meditation and knowing God in that stillness of your soul where only He can see. I want to love deeply. I want deep, well watered roots.