Just. Be. Still.

“Relax, Daniel, don’t be afraid. From the moment you decided to humble yourself to receive understanding, your prayer was heard.” (Daniel 10:12; MSG)

I got up on the wrong side of the bed today. I was in good head space when I went to sleep, but I woke up angry and combative. Never a great way to start the day.

The day started anyway, and I worked to stop the running arguments in my head as I went through my usual morning motions. I sent up a handful of hurried prayers for God to release me. The arguments persisted. I grabbed a notebook and angrily wrote out about three or four pages of what was going on in my mind. If it hadn’t been for time, I would’ve written more. As I threw together my things to hurry out the door for work, I dialed my sponsor in hopes of releasing some of the tumult. No answer.

Arriving at work, I glossed the subject with a co-worker and friend in whom I can confide, touching only the basic idea of what had me so afflicted. He offered some limited perspective and helped by giving me a couple of extra things to consider. I calmed a bit and began my work day. As I feel tends to happen when I am already in a state of agitation, several things popped up just within the first three hours that grated on my raw nerves. Another co-worker approached and undeservedly received a barrage of angry words about the things that had irritated me in the past hour.

Knowing I needed to do something to change my attitude, I stepped outside to take a few minutes and pray. The first thing that came to my mind was the Prayer of St. Francis. Following that, a few deep breaths in stillness and earnest requests to God to help me seek to be compassionate and understanding. Opening my eyes I picked up my Bible and the page fell open to Daniel. Highlighted on the page, I saw first, “’Don’t be afraid, friend. Peace. Everything is going to be all right. Take courage. Be strong.” (Daniel 10:19; MSG) As I read and re-read the words, I indeed felt peace seep in.

Further up on the page the highlighted words, “From the moment you decided to humble yourself to receive understanding, your prayer was heard.” (Daniel 10:12; MSG)

As I sat in my car and breathed in the warmth and sunshine wafting in through the open windows, the war of the morning subsided.

I just needed to be still for a few minutes, call out to God from the stillness, then sit with him in the stillness. Why, oh, why, oh, why does it seem so difficult for me to just. be. still. It is one of the primary reasons why one of my Lenten commitments was to this blog. As evidenced by the lack of recent posts, I allowed other things in life to win out yet again. Always there is the struggle to differentiate between treating myself with grace and allowing behavior to continue that is inconsistent with what I believe or what I desire in my life.

And ultimately, that is the underlying issue right now with anything I approach.

So here is a revision for this last week and a half of Lent, most especially for Holy Week, a time to which I should devote myself in earnest to what the week remembers. If I write a reflection, great. If I don’t get to it, no sweat. More importantly than anything else, I need to spend time in stillness. So my commitment is to make that time. To apologize to anyone or anything that I must miss for it, and to make that time. To show God I’m serious about this and I want my relationship with him more than anything else.

My prayer today is that those of you who stumble across this blog and also struggle with stillness find the strength with me to sit quietly with God every day. To make space for God rather than fit God in.

Amen.

Resistance is Futile, Anyway

2 Corinthians 4:8-9

“We’ve been surrounded and battered by troubles, but we're not demoralized; we’re not sure what to do, but we know God knows what to do; we’ve been spiritually terrorized, but God hasn’t left our side; we’ve been thrown down, but we haven’t broken.”  (MSG, italics mine)

I have been wandering in the wilderness.  There were only a few times I ventured very far from the pasture; mostly I was hanging out near the gate thinking about going in, or walking along the fence, but on the outside.  I kept my communication with God open, but I found myself resisting him.  I acknowledged my resistance, asked for forgiveness, then plopped down by the gate, where I sat for the last month, trying to summon the energy to stand, dust off, then run as fast as I could into the arms of my God.

The last three and a half months have been difficult.  A period of let-downs, loss, shattered hope, death, grief and confusion followed the catalyst event referred to in, Really, God?  Before Christmas there was anger.  After Christmas, I went into maintenance mode.  There was a lot of reaching for God through the final sickness and death of my grandmother, with whom I was very close.  Then came exhaustion and just moving from day to day through life’s busyness. 

Fatigued, I sat down just outside the gate of God’s green pasture.  I said, “I surrender.  Here.  I don’t want it, I trust you to do what needs to be done.  But I’m tired and I need to sit for awhile.”  And in my weakness, he found strength.  I haven’t yet run back into the lushest of the grass, but I am inside the gate.  My peace once again is not fleeting or easily disrupted, and I have amazed myself in this last week at how I have grown, at what God has done with me. 

It astounds me to no end how I can come and go and come and go.  I suppose it is human nature, and if I’ve learned anything from the Old Testament about human nature, it is that we come and go.  The Israelites are an extreme example, but reading through the Psalms and the stories of David, I find someone human to whom I can really relate. 

There are still troubles, but not nearly as many.  I still don’t know what to do, but I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that God knows what to do.  So I’m going to let him do it.  And as we move into this season of Lent, I will strive to reignite the flame that burned so brightly last fall. 

“For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God...” 2 Cor 4:6 (NIV).

Dear Lord, let Light shine out of the darkness in my life.  Help me to move forward in love with faith and trust, surrendering myself to you and believing that you are working good from this thing I call my life.  Grant me humility during this Lenten season and beyond.  Bring me ever closer to you and hold me in your heart.

Amen.

*In the spirit of no alle...lu’s during Lent, my equivalent happy face after the Amen will be on vacation until Easter.     

Really, God?

Lamentations 3:19-24

Life can be difficult.  Even the most devout and God-faithful run into times when life just plain stinks.  Regardless of the reason, many of us will have bad moments, bad days, bad weeks, bad years.  The key in all of this, is not to lose sight of God. 

I find myself a bit upset with God today.  Mostly because I was completely caught off guard by something which has left me feeling let down.  One of the things over which I have been praying so hard lately, it seemed as though I was getting an answer, then in one quick moment it was taken away. 

It’s not so much the situation itself as it is the, “Really??  Really??!!” factor.  Where I thought I could find some relief, I now find complication.  Where I thought I could find some rest, I now find trouble. 

So, I let God have it.  I let him know exactly what I think about the whole thing.  I told him in clear, direct, angry language that I’m upset.  And I didn’t use nice words. 

And then I went to my bible.  I searched for a verse under the heading of “discouragement” because I just wasn’t getting anything out of what I’d already read.  Likely because I’m a bit closed off to God today, which isn’t a good place to be.  Eventually, I landed in Lamentations, the name alone being appropriate to my feelings.  I found what I needed to find – a verse that speaks to being upset and let down, but the importance of remembering God’s love and faithfulness.  There is something greater in all of this, I just have to get over it and move on.

“I’ll never forget the trouble, the utter lostness, the taste of ashes, the poison I’ve swallowed.  I remember it all – oh, how well I remember – the feeling of hitting the bottom.  But there’s one other thing I remember, and remembering, I keep a grip on hope.  God’s loyal love couldn’t have run out, his merciful love couldn’t have dried up.  They’re created new every morning.  How great is your faithfulness!  I’m sticking with God (I say it over and over).”  Lam. 3:19-24 (MSG, italics mine.)

So I will ask God’s forgiveness for being angry with him and I will spend plenty of time today in prayer about this situation, looking less at how it hurts and more at where I can go from here.  And I will rest assured that tomorrow is a new day, and God has a plan.

Amen!  :D