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.

God and Donuts

“Only take care, son of man, that you don’t rebel like these rebels. Open your mouth and eat what I give you.” (Ezekiel 2:8, MSG)

This morning I ate six donuts. After the sixth, I got a spoon and scraped the sugary, oily glaze off the bottom of the empty box. Doing this broke several of the commitments I’ve made to God and to myself regarding food & nutrition, and already I can feel the unpleasant side effects starting to take shape. It is safe to say I am not at my spiritually (or physically) healthiest this morning.

The part of me that likes to make excuses says, “Well, eating six donuts certainly is preferable to drinking or putting other mind-altering substances in my body. God can forgive this.” Perhaps this is true. After all, God forgives everything. But getting down to the bottom of it, I didn’t need to eat the donuts at all. It was a cop-out, a diversion, and in its own way, abuse of a mind-altering substance. How about that? Donuts are a mind-altering substance. A lot of food can be. Especially for people like me who struggle with various forms of food addiction and eating disorders.

With all of the spiritual, therapeutic and programmatic tools I have for addressing and dealing with stress and difficult situations, why did I feel the need to plow through a box of donuts? It’s worth examining. Was it rebellion? An act out of anger at the situation presenting as the stressor? Was it simply not having the energy to exercise impulse control?

From the moment I made the conscious decision to get in the car to go buy donuts, I knew it was a bad idea. With every bite of each of the six donuts, I hated what I was doing. The act also brought to light an interesting revelation: eating the donuts opened a door for self-loathing and flagellation, things which now I strive to avoid doing, but once defined a comfortable misery in which I lived. Yet another indicator of an unhealthy spiritual condition. Being hard on myself is easier than being hard on anyone else.

So why did I do it? I honestly believe it comes back to rebellion. Given that I knew what I was doing with every step and bite I took, I have to believe it was rebellion. I’ve seen how well I’ve managed the impulse control recently with food, so I really don’t feel I can blame it on that. It was rebellion. I was unhappy with how a situation presented itself and, in anger, I ate donuts at God. I did not eat and enjoy them with God or bless God for them or bless them as gifts from God; I ate them in open defiance, eating them at him. As with anything that happens in that manner, though, I only harmed myself.

Withholding forgiveness and giving into certain temptations can bring about the same result. We get angry with a spouse, so we drink to get back at him, yet we harm ourselves. We get angry with a sister, so we stop talking to her to get back at her, yet we harm ourselves. We get upset about something at work, so we take it out on others in our job, yet we harm ourselves.

There is a quote I’ve heard repeated several times that says, “Not forgiving someone is like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die.” Well, not forgiving God is like eating six consecutive donuts and waiting for him to feel sick, get bloated, experience a sugar crash and not fit into his jeans.

It’s okay to get angry with God. What’s not okay is to cause harm to myself or others because I don’t like how life came at me on any particular day. What’s not okay is forsaking working toward being a healthier me because I’m upset about something. I am human; I will fall. But every time I recognize my fall, I have the opportunity to turn my face upward, reach out my hands and say, “Okay, that was dumb. Please help me get up and please show me how I can do this better next time.”

My prayer today is that as I find the strength to ask God to grant me grace in dealing with myself, that you also find that grace. May we find the grace to forgive God for not giving us life as we pictured it and may we find the grace to forgive ourselves for the negative ways we respond when life gets hard.

Amen! =D

Radical Change

“God is kind, but he’s not soft. In kindness he takes us firmly by the hand and leads us into a radical life-change.”  (Romans 2:4; MSG)

Yesterday, as I was preparing to write, my hand made a double-click which led down a rabbit hole and a few clicks later opened a Pandora’s Box of my past. Buried in folders within folders I came across an old journal of mine. I randomly clicked to a page, then found it difficult to pull away as I read through the rest, seeing old details of my life unfold. Wounds, pain and evidence of the mess I was each is spewed across the pages. It is raw and it was very real for me.

Reading something like that a few years ago would’ve sent me into a downward spiral. Coming face to face with such sadness and struggle, I would’ve gone into “I give up” mode because it would’ve shown me I hadn’t changed and therefore couldn’t change.

But that was before I found the courage to step into total surrender and willingness, throw my hands up and let it all go.

Whenever I tried to ‘fix’ my life by my own plans, I failed. The moment I truly gave it all to God, I found that success was possible. Now, this didn’t mean I didn’t have to do any work. Stepping out in faith and saying, “Okay, God, here it is. Your will, not mine,” does not mean stepping back and waiting for something to happen or waiting for something to change. Saying yes to God means signing up for radical life change – and I certainly play a role in making that change.

Working in surrender and trust yields results. I know I am moving under God’s direction when I receive affirmation and feel the effects of positive change. When I struggle, it might be a good time to stop and check in because chances are I’ve started trying to do things my way again.

Radical life change. It’s a scary thought. It means doing things sometimes which might make others think I’m crazy. It means putting God above all else, which might call for difficult sacrifices. It means possibly not being understood by peers and facing lonely days which require I cling desperately to faith.

Radical life change. It’s turning everything in my world topsy-turvy and buckling in for the ride ahead.

Jesus didn’t come just to forgive us our sins; he came to show us a new way of life, a free life, a fruitful life, a life of love. By his example we are to live our lives – and that’s pretty radical.

My prayer today is that I see where I’ve shied away from some radical changes and let go of my will and also to bask in gratitude for the radical changes God already effected in me.

Amen! =D

Beautiful Things

“This is what God says, “Forget about what’s happened; don’t keep going over old history. Be alert, be present. I’m about to do something brand-new.” (Isaiah 43:16A, 18; MSG)

Lent corresponds with spring in such divine design. The shells of the dead of winter begin to fall away, and where there was a lack of life, life begins anew. Although this inconsistent winter is confusing even for the plants, which keep trying to bloom before the cold is truly gone, seeing those blooms reminds me that the bleakness of winter is almost behind us. During this season of self-examination I have the opportunity to shed things of the past and reach forward for the new life God works in me.

I am blessed to be a part of the praise and worship team at my church. We have a lot of favorite & familiar songs we love to play, but every now and then one of us will bring in something new to try. Last night I brought Gungor’s “Beautiful Things”¹ to the group. It is a simple, sweet song with a powerful and meaningful message. The moment I first heard the song it touched my heart. The opening lines speak to my core: “All this pain / I wonder if I'll ever find my way / I wonder if my life could really change at all...” The gist of the song is about the possibility of new life, that God makes things new, that he makes beautiful things out of us – his beloved children.

I wrote recently about God not choosing the most well-to-do or put together people to carry his message.² Generally, it seems God rather likes messes. The stories and major players throughout the Bible can be inspiration, reassurance or hope for us all in that we do not have to be slave to our human condition if we only turn to God. It’s as though he says, “Wait and see. Just look what I can do with YOU.”

He makes beautiful things out of us.

No matter how broken, how rebellious, how messy, he can make us beautiful. No matter how far we’ve fallen, how far away we’ve run, how many mistakes we’ve made, he can make us beautiful. No matter how dark, how lonely, how hopeless… He can make us beautiful.

“He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor and the day of vengeance of our God, to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion—to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.” (Isaiah 61:1-3; NIV)

“God, you are our Father.  We’re the clay and you’re our potter:  All of us are what you made us. Show us the way [you] work so we can live the way we’re made.” (Isaiah 64:4; 1:3; MSG)

My prayer today is that we let God, the great and masterful artist, work his beauty into us. May we allow him to form and shape us into his perfect image, into a design specific to each and every one of us, his beloved children. And then, may he grant us strength and courage to live the way we’re made!

Amen! =D

¹  Gungor’s “Beautiful Things” music video

² Dim Bulbs

Dim Bulbs

 “Take a good look, friends, at who you were when you got called into this life. Isn’t it obvious that God deliberately chose men and women that the culture overlooks and exploits and abuses?” (1 Corinthians 1:26-28; MSG, para.)

Sometimes I need to sit and remember where I was and who I was when I stepped across the line into this God-obedient life. At my core, I’ve always been me; this person who lives my life now always has been in there. It’s just that it was buried under layers of depression, persecution, addiction. And as I still struggle with being human – selfishness, insecurities, distraction, rebellion – there are moments I wonder if I’m really cut out for being a messenger in this God-life.

But God uses the dim bulbs to show how bright his light can shine.

How powerful the story of a person so beaten down who rises up in hope and light and goodness once he surrenders to God! How powerful the miracle of one who was so very lost and living in darkness who finds healing in Jesus and is forever changed! Flipping through the Gospels, the pages are littered with exactly these stories. The blind, the lame, the lepers, the tax collectors, the prostitutes, the dregs of society – these were the people to whom Jesus was the closest.

Going back through the Old Testament, the story isn’t much different. Time and again, God chose the weak and insecure to do his greatest works. Jacob was a liar, Moses was a murder and fugitive who couldn’t speak well, Gideon was insecure, David was an adulterer¹... The list goes on.

God doesn’t choose the squeaky-clean to carry his strongest messages.

Holding myself to high standards, it’s easy to feel like a screw-up and a failure. What I forget in my humanity is that God finds strength in my weakness. If I am strong on my own, what need have I of God? I was broken that I could be mended, wounded that I could be healed and mired in darkness that I might come forth as a bearer of light. 

“But he said to me, “My Grace is sufficient for you, my power is made perfect in weakness.” Once I heard that, I was glad to let it happen. I quit focusing on the handicap and began appreciating the gift. It was a case of Christ’s strength moving in my weakness. Now I take limitations in stride, and with good cheer, these limitations that cut me down to size – abuse, accidents, opposition, bad breaks. I just let Christ take over! And so the weaker I get, the stronger I become.” (2 Corinthians 12:9-10; NIV/MSG)

My prayer today is that when I feel weak I remember that in my weakness, God shows his strength. May I remember that the core of my message lies in the miracle of healing by Jesus, who brought me forth from darkness into light, pulled me from the depths, resurrected me from the dead.

Amen! =D

¹ Genesis 27; Exodus 2:11-15; 4:10-12; Judges 6:15; 2 Samuel 11:2-5

Wandering Sheep

 “I have wandered away like a lost sheep; come and find me, for I have not forgotten your commands.”   (Psalm 119:176; NLT)

Hang around me a bit and you’ll surely hear me say something like, “Life can’t all happen on the mountaintop; growth happens in the valleys; if life was a plateau then it would be boring.” I’m a firm believer that I cannot know light without darkness just as I cannot know who I am unless I experience who I am not. By this belief, I must go through periods of time where I am not the person I want to be in order to know both who I want to be and who I AM.

Many people often refer to similar experience as desert times or being in the wilderness. It is time that I feel more distant from God, it is harder to hear him, and I feel a little lost. When I am in that place, it seems like no matter how much I think I should know the answers or what I should do to bring myself out of it, nothing works.

It’s beyond frustrating.

More often than not, though, what I find is that God patiently waits through my stubbornness for the moment of beautiful surrender when I throw my hands up and say, “God, I don’t have the answers, I don’t know what to do, I’m giving it to you. Please show me the way.”

I get self-confident when things go well. While self-confidence can be a good thing, it gets troublesome when I start to think I have the answers and attempt to take my life back under my own direction and management. What I need more than self-confidence is God-confidence.¹

A couple of years ago, a chance encounter with an out-of-town visitor led to conversation over coffee. The discussion primarily revolved around God even though she was not a believer. She met me with opposition at every turn until finally she voiced what bothered her most about our dialogue. With her voice agitated and slightly raised, she blurted out, “You can’t just totally let go and let God. The idea of total surrender is absurd. It can’t be done!” As I let her words settle in the air between us, a smile crept across my face as I calmly said, “Actually, it can. It was the best thing I ever did. It saved my life.”

Then things got good and even though I was thanking and praising God at every turn, I began to forget I needed to continue surrendering to him.

This is a cycle of my life. There is no better indicator that I’ve tried to take over than when things start to feel like they are getting out of control. If I find myself worrying, I’m probably not surrendering. I’ve wandered away. God is there, I know he’s there, but I’ve wandered over to the edge of the pasture, or perhaps just outside the gate, or, if I’m being really stubborn, well past the gate and off into the forest.

Knowing my mistake, I turn my face upward and admit what I’ve done. Then I ask for help. “I’ve wandered away. Please come find me.”

God wants me to completely rely on him. He wants me to trust him implicitly. Sometimes that means he’s going to let me make mistakes until I consciously recognize and admit what I’ve done and then earnestly seek his passionate love and care.

My prayer today is that I find where I’m trying to direct my life and then let it go. God’s got this.

Amen! =D

¹ “Forget about self-confidence; it’s useless. Cultivate God-confidence.” (1 Corinthians 10:12; MSG)

Stay With It.

 “Stay with it – that’s what is required. Stay with it to the end. You won’t be sorry; you’ll be saved.” (Matthew 24:13; Mark 13:13; Luke 21:19; MSG)

Ever been in a place where you wonder if it’s all worth it? Feel like staying in bed or going far away from everything are better options than continuing in your day to day life?

I know that place. I know those feelings.

As a survivor of a severe chronic depression that plagued me for twenty years, I am all too familiar with feeling like life simply isn’t worth it. In ways both active and passive, I sought to end my life on many occasions. The most familiar feeling for me was that of being trapped; somewhere inside I knew I didn’t really want to die, but I knew I really didn’t want to go on living.

It was a very dark, lonely and hopeless world. By the end I looked for any way to escape my pain I could find, which only exacerbated and worsened my fear and hopelessness. I couldn’t understand why God, who I knew loved me, would allow me to hurt so badly for so long.

The thing is, I didn’t trust him. I didn’t trust him to heal me. I didn’t think I was worth it. Even when I cried out, “God, help me!” I didn’t really think he would. No matter how often I went to church, no matter how much scripture I read, no matter how many prayers I prayed, I was simply too afraid to believe God would really help me.

I was simply too afraid to believe God would really help me.

Fear is such a manipulative beast. When fear grips me, I can become paralyzed and forget the strength I have in my Great Creator. I can forget that though I am less than a grain of sand in the infinite Glory of God, he cares about me personally. He loves me and wants to help me and asks only that I turn, face him, open my heart and trust him.

Within our small human frame of reference, it is easy to ascribe human attributes to God. This makes it difficult to see how a being can truly love freely and unconditionally, and be always forgiving, gracious and merciful. This also makes it easy to compare God to people in our lives, including people who let us down, break promises, hurt us and cause us pain. Thank God, God is not human.

God is so much bigger. He’s so much bigger than all our worry, all our doubt – and all our fear.

God. Is. Bigger.

Pick up the Good Book and flip through the Gospels a little bit. You’re sure to run across at least one of many verses which find Jesus saying, “Courage, do not be afraid.”¹ Time and time again he reassures those who tremble in fear, those who do not feel worthy, the outcast, downcast and downtrodden. Time and time again, he lifts them up and encourages them.

He wants to do that for you and me, too. Take a deep breath and allow yourself for a moment to be transported back to the time when Jesus walked the earth. He walks through your town amidst a throng of admirers as you watch from the sidelines. In the one brief moment that your desperation to be free from your pain finally is greater than any fear, you find yourself suddenly in the throng, pushing past people, bending down and fighting through the crowd to get to Jesus. “If only I can get near him,” you think, “I can be healed.” You come up behind him and boldly reach for him, brushing his clothes. Instantly you feel different, you feel changed. As he turns toward you, you prepare to be humiliated in front of the crowd for wanting to get so close to Jesus. Instead, it grows quiet. You look up into his eyes and he smiles the kindest smile you’ve ever seen. He touches your chin and gently raises you up. “You took a risk and trusted me. Now you are healed and whole. Live well, live blessed.”²

Stay with it. Stay with it to the end. It’s worth it, trust me. There is hope and there is light. I find mine in the Sweet Soul I follow with all my heart, my Jesus, who calls me beloved and friend. I find mine in God who is bigger than anything and everything, who made all things seen and unseen. I find mine in a faith that finally allows me to trust, even when life gets hard here on this earth.

My prayer today is for those of you who struggle with darkness, hopelessness and despair. May you find peace and comfort and freedom from your fear. May you live well and live blessed, and find yourselves healed and whole.

Amen.

¹ Matthew 10:26, 28, 31; 14:27; 17:7; 28:5, 10

Mark 5:36; 6:50

Luke 5:10; 8:50; 12:4, 7, 32;

John 6:20 12:15; 14:27

I’ve only listed some Gospel verses here (likely not comprehensive, so go flip through the book to find more!), but many, many more verses of God reassuring us and telling us not to fear, to have courage because he is with us pepper the whole Bible throughout, Old Testament and New. :)

² Mark 5:25-34; Luke 8:43-48; Matthew 9:20-22

Am I Consistent?

“You’re fortunate if your behavior and your belief are coherent. But if you’re not sure, if you notice that you are acting in ways inconsistent with what you believe, then you know you are out of line. If the way you live isn’t consistent with what you believe, then it’s wrong.” (Romans 14:22-23; MSG)

This topic is on my heart tonight. It’s been on my heart more than usual recently, and certainly is on my list of things for self-examination this Lent. Especially as I write these devotionals and publish them in a public forum, I must ask myself, “Do people in my inner circle see behaviors, actions and attitudes in my life that reflect what I claim to believe?” ¹

Tough question.

I find the thing I’m grappling the most with right now to be selfishness. It’s so very easy to explain away a lot of my selfishness. I do give a lot of time and energy to people and things outside of myself. Some people even tell me they consider me selfless. But I know in my heart that I still could do better. Isn’t that always my battle, though? Constantly striving to be a better version of myself?

Perhaps the reason for the nag on my heart about being selfish is connected to a recent event in which I acted out of selfishness. Perhaps it is a recent event where self-will dominated, not God-will. Perhaps I’m simply feeling over-sensitive given some recent emotional events.

Perhaps God is letting me know it’s time again for growth.

Often when I feel something so heavily on my heart it is a good indicator both that my behavior requires some examination and also that it’s time to grow a little stronger in that area. Where am I selfish? Why do I feel the need to be selfish in that situation? What can I do to change the behavior? Am I lacking firm boundaries? What is the nature of the relationship in which I feel selfish? Is it healthy?

Of the many little cards and notes of prayers, inspirational sayings and scripture I have around my home, one says, “Lord, I want to be more like you. May I see where changes are necessary, and trust you for the help I need.”

Sometimes when my eyes pass over this card I find myself unwilling to read through it because I know it can mean hard evaluation and difficult change.

Following Jesus is not a calling to take lightly. Constantly striving to be more like him means constantly fighting my human nature. I am not naturally selfless; by nature I am selfish. And in my selfish nature I can end up withholding love from those who need it, wasting gifts God so graciously gave me, and hiding my light under a bucket.² I don’t want to be that girl.

My prayer today – as I suck in my breath, preparing for hard work ahead – is that God reveal to me where I am selfish and that I trust him to help me make a change. No excuses. I also pray that God grant me the ability to have grace and patience with myself, as I am human and therefore often prone to falling short of my expectations.

Amen! =D

¹ “Teach believers with your life: by word, by demeanor, by love, by faith, by your integrity.” (1 Timothy 4:12; MSG)

“Live well, live wisely, live humbly. It’s the way you live, not the way you talk, that counts.” (James 3:13; MSG)

² “You’re here to be light, bringing out the God-colors in the world. God is not a secret to be kept. If I make you light-bearers, you don’t think I’m going to hide you under a bucket, do you? Shine!” (Matthew 5:14-16; MSG, para.)

This verse appears in an earlier reflection as well.

May I Interrupt?

“Simon Peter, when he saw it, fell to his knees before Jesus. “Master, leave. I’m a sinner and can’t handle this holiness. Leave me to myself.” (Luke 5:8; MSG)

Shortly before this moment, Jesus, in an effort to better teach the eager crowd closing in on him, interrupted Simon in his work and had him put his boat back out in the water. I would like to be able to read of this interaction and the time in-between, but maybe it is better to imagine it...

Simon, James and John spend a long, tiring night out on the lake only to come back empty-handed. They beach their boats and begin the thankless task of washing their large nets. Perhaps they think about how many nights there were like this, how they will provide for their families, when they will finally haul in a good catch. Who knows if they even notice or pay attention to Jesus and his growing crowd?

Then Jesus just climbs right into Simon’s boat. Totally hops in uninvited and then has the nerve to ask Simon to get in, too, and put the boat back out in the water. Simon recognizes Jesus as the man who recently healed his mother-in-law (Luke 4:38-39). Feeling a bit obligated, he complies with Jesus’s request, then sits nearby in the boat while Jesus teaches the masses gathered on the shore.

I can’t help but imagine Simon spent that time in the boat much like many of us do in the pew on Sunday. He catches bits and pieces of what Jesus says, but he is distracted. His mind is on the long night and lack of fish. He thinks about the net he has yet to wash. He knows better than to expect James and John will do it for him since he’s stuck out here with this Jesus character. Simon’s attention is feeble at best as he checks off his mental to-do list and tries to prepare for the coming day.

As Jesus wraps up his sermon, Simon yawns. Jesus turns to him and says, “Push out into deep water and let your nets out for a catch.” (Luke 5:4) Simon thinks, “Is he kidding? Seriously? I didn’t catch anything all night and I already have one net waiting for me to wash on the shore and now he wants me to take the boat out again and toss my clean nets out?” He summons all his courage and patience as he again remembers that Jesus healed his mother-in-law. Half-protesting, half-obedient, Simon does as Jesus asks, sure to point out the clear folly in his request as he threw the nets out. Immediately, the nets fill with fish. So many fish that James and John have to bring their boat out to help haul in the catch.

How often do I find myself in this situation? I’m tired, I’m frustrated, nothing’s going my way, I’m worried about bills, I don’t have enough time, and then – God interrupts. Absolutely no consideration for what I think or feel about it, he tells me to put the boat in the water. Then he talks for awhile and I sit in the boat, yawning and half-heartedly listening as I think about things I need to get done. Then God nudges me and says, “Go deeper.” Somewhat reluctantly, I go. And suddenly I find myself in that place of God’s Abundance, that Romans 5:1-2 promise of the Peace and Grace that come side-by-side with stepping out in faith.

I often feel like Simon Peter, falling to my knees and saying, “I do not deserve this.” Because I know, as Simon knew, that I could’ve done better, listened closer, tried harder, been more willing, etc, etc. The thing is, I never could be “good enough” for God’s Grace. I never could do or say enough to earn his Love. Which is why I am thankful that God’s Grace is freely given. There isn’t a thing I have to do to earn his Love – it is already mine without condition. And no matter how many times I fall, he will pick me up, dust me off and kiss me on the forehead as he says, “I forgive you.” Every time.

So how does Jesus reply when Simon falls to his knees and confesses his feelings of unworthiness?

“Jesus said to Simon, “There is nothing to fear.” (Luke 5:10b)

There is nothing to fear.

With that, Jesus tells Simon, James and John that they will be fishers of men. The three new disciples leave everything – everything – behind and follow Jesus. Because it never really was about the fish, was it?

My prayer today is that I work harder to stay focused on that which God reveals to me. It is so easy to be distracted by the things of this world and my daily life. I pray that I may strengthen my ears to therefore be quicker in perking them up when I hear the voice of my God speaking to me.

Amen!

Why Does God Allow Suffering?

“I found myself in trouble and went looking for my Lord; my life was an open wound that wouldn’t heal. When friends said, “Everything will turn out all right,” I didn’t believe a word they said.” Psalm 77:2; MSG

Currently I am going through a training course geared toward providing pastoral care in a hospital setting. The course is rooted in the principles of Christian love and Christian care giving. Since it is taught in a hospital that is not faith-based we are challenged to move outside the “Jesus is the answer” box and provide Christian care without invoking the name of Christ out of respect for those whose faith journey follows a different path. This is hard for some, as all of us in the class have testimony to how being a believer has made all the difference in how we cope with and handle the presence of suffering in our lives. It proved an especially challenging exercise given the question we faced in our most recent class: "Why does God allow bad things to happen?"

We were given the week between classes to ponder the question and prepare for discussion. My thoughts on it ranged from answers found in my Christian faith to principles and ideas from Eastern religions, different philosophical musings and the plain ol’, “It is what it is,” ideology. I also asked a lot of people around me to hear their thoughts on the subject. In AA meetings that week I listened a little harder when people shared how they moved through trials and what their varied spiritual experiences were and are.

For the duration of class we carried on a very involved discussion. We covered every range of answers and lack thereof, we explored rebuttals, some shared stories, many shed tears, some struggled with how not to try to lead someone to Jesus or give "cheap grace." One gentleman especially struggled tonight because this coming Saturday is the one-year anniversary of his beloved wife's death. His faith was evident though, as through his tears he continued to give thanks and praise to God and shared how God moved through his wife's illness and death and the growth he experienced as a result. After class he was visibly having a hard time holding it together, so I walked over to give him a hug and he burst into sobs, lifting me off the floor as I hugged him tightly and he cried. I just held onto him for a little bit, then when I sensed his breathing slow, I told him I loved him, gave him an extra squeeze and walked away.

Ultimately, that is what I walked away with from the discussion. I'd gone in having concluded that I have plenty of answers to that question that can be tailored to all different kinds of people, but none is ever sufficient. In those crisis moments, those Psalm 77:1-10 moments, there isn’t really anything anyone can do or say to sufficiently explain suffering in a way that will bring comfort. However, I was unable to resolve that conclusion, thinking, okay, so then what? The lightbulb moment came in listening to everyone, to how much we want to fix people and show them the way, to the reminders from the chaplain that we are in the process, not the results, understanding it's okay not to have all the answers – perhaps the best answer is no answer at all, but a demonstration of Love through the simple act of having the Grace to allow people to be where they are, listening, genuinely caring and unconditionally loving. I believe, as experienced with my classmates and aware of it in myself, that sometimes we get so focused on how we can be of use and what that looks like that we forget to stay in the moment and instead block the incoming flow from the Spirit because we are trying to think our way to the best way rather than just letting God have his way.

I pray today that I may better learn how to let the Holy Spirit move through me, especially in opportunities to allow people to be where they are. May I be an instrument of God not only in my speaking, but even more so in my listening.

Amen!

Certainly Not the Least

“I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.” (Matt. 25:40, NIV)

Today I want to tell you about Michael.

Michael first attended a service at our church this past summer. He faithfully continued coming every Sunday after for our combined 9:30am service, and transitioned to the 10:30am service when we went back to our 8 and 10am services after Labor Day. Shortly after that, he began attending the 9:15am bible study before church. Michael certainly is not one to miss many of our potluck gatherings, or events at the church which involve food.

In the seven months he has attended our church, I’m not sure if Michael has missed a service. I’ve missed a few due to being out of town, so I can’t say with certainty that he hasn’t missed at all, but I do know that when I am there, he is there. He may have been late a couple of times, but he still showed up for his Jesus time.

I do not know what Michael’s official diagnosis is. Some in our church speculate that it is a form of schizophrenia, which is entirely possible. He carries some mannerisms many of us associate with autism. I would guess Michael’s age to be somewhere between 25 and 35. Depending on how well his meds are working, he might be able to communicate something that resembles a coherent thought. As we’ve gotten to know Michael, some of us are able to understand what he’s trying to say – if we pay close enough attention.

When Michael started coming to our church we had to make some personal adjustments. His imaginary friend often misbehaves during the service and Michael will argue with him and tell him to be quiet. This was a shock to our systems, to our traditional hearts that are not used to such interruption to the readings or the sermon. Some parishioners took longer to adjust than others, with scolding glances thrown in Michael’s direction (which of course had little to no effect). Michael occasionally gets up out of his pew and delivers notes to our priest while he gives the sermon at the podium.

It took some time to adjust, but gradually Michael became a beloved and necessary part of our family. In spite of his apparent mental impairments, Michael has enough comprehension to follow our service schedule when we have special services; as I mentioned above he comes to nearly every potluck dinner; he attends Sunday school where one lady always gets his coffee while he finds a donut; and he even attended confirmation classes with the youth group. He knows what it means to pray, and I’ve never been so moved watching someone receive communion as when Michael does. There is no question in my mind that he knows the meaning of Grace, even if he never could tell us so.

Of all the people in my church, perhaps none embraced Michael so immediately and lovingly as our priest. Rev. Jim didn’t bat an eye or falter in his sermon when Michael showed up and argued with the unseen troublemaker in his pew. The first time Michael came up the aisle during the sermon to deliver a bulletin with simple and incoherent words scrawled across it, Rev. Jim broke his message only to accept the note, smile and say, “Thank you Michael,” and pick right back up where he was. He was sure to welcome Michael after church, and has invested time in learning more about him through community contacts in an effort to better understand his situation.

To say that there were no dissenters would be a lie. There were a very few who didn’t like Michael’s repeated attendance and disruption of the service. For the most part, though, my beautiful church family welcomed him and loved him just as they welcome and love all who come through our doors, just as they welcomed and loved me when I came through the doors. And as we got to know Michael and he got to know us, we found a balance. His outbursts are fewer and farther between and he lets us get a little closer to him to at the exchange of peace, though still isn’t always all about the touch of a handshake. He recently celebrated his birthday, for which one of our members brought a cake to coffee hour and a couple of small gifts such as gloves to keep his hands warm this winter.

In the last few months, as South Carolina Episcopalians were thrown into a battle of church politics and religion, I’ve lost count of the number of times that, in my church family, the conversation has quickly turned to a story about Michael. Because Michael’s membership at our church and the way our parish family embraces him as one of our own exemplifies the Christian message. It reminds us in an obvious and tangible way who we are and why we follow Christ. We have grown together, Michael learning from us and, most importantly, us learning from Michael.

Could it be any coincidence he showed up shortly before the diocesan upheaval began?

My personal belief is that there is no such thing as coincidence. I find strength in the bond of my spiritual family, our open arms and our desire to follow Christ and share the good news. I find great hope while watching our leader grow from some apparent disenchantment into a greater shepherd of his flock, desiring to protect us and keep us in the light. Perhaps Michael taught him a few things, too.

Today I pray that those who are seeking will be met with the grace and love that Michael found. May God lead them with open minds toward open doors and open hearts.

Amen! :D

Kindness is Catching, You Know

2 Timothy 2:20-26

“Become the kind of container God can use to present any and every kind of gift to his guests for their blessing.” (2 Tim. 2:21; MSG)

I refuse not to believe in the basic good of all people.

What it comes down to is that we all have pasts. We’ve all been hurt, mistreated, abused, used, abandoned, praised, loved, hated, worshiped, forgotten, lied to… Everything everyone says or does is directly influenced by what happened to her and how she has or has not dealt with it.

This in no way excuses poor behavior, it merely explains it.

But at the core, at the seed of our being, we are all good people. God created each one of us, after all. Yet while God is so Amazing and Wonderful and Good, the world we created with our free will is often harsh and cynical and terrifying.

Society – at least in the corner of the world with which I am familiar – is far more slanted toward the negative than the positive, and more toward the individual than the group. Social implications teach us to tear others down to make ourselves look or feel better rather than build each other up. Tabloids and gossip shows exploit the famous, highlighting their faults and failures. Reality shows are often edited to show people at their worst, treating each other poorly and creating unnecessary drama. We find this entertaining, I think, because seeing what’s wrong with others’ lives makes us feel better about our own. Bad day at work? Boss was mean? Go home, kick back to reality TV and feel better by watching the petty drama. Or turn on the news and feel better about the blah of life because at least we aren’t in Syria, our kids haven’t been kidnapped, or our house didn’t catch fire.

Imagine what would happen if all that was taken away. Imagine if we focused on the good things and didn’t glorify negative news. Imagine what the world would be like if we really did just love each other.

These days, as I continue growing in my spirit-filled life, I work hard to stay positive, to encourage others, to give compliments, perform random acts of kindness, go out of my way to be nice to others – even if they aren’t nice to me. It does not take long to see the impact this has on the people around me. And I’m just one person!

Robin Sharma, an inspirational author, once said, “Leave each person better than you found them.” I was taught growing up to leave a place better than I found it. (Babysitting? Clean up a little bit, even if they didn’t ask.) I love, love, love the idea of applying that to people and I am implementing it into my behavior. It doesn’t matter whether it’s a coworker, family member, or clerk at the grocery store. Smile, be polite, engage. Doing that we just might make someone’s day.

I remember an email chain going around once that was the story of two boys, one of which was severely bullied. One day, the second boy went out of his way to be kind to the first, walking home with him and talking to him about the day. Years later, the bullied boy told the second boy that he had planned on killing himself that night until the second boy was nice to him. That one act of kindness gave him enough hope to carry on. We may never know what chain reaction our kindness has, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that it can have incredible power! A kind word, a smile, a nice gesture…  Who knows what it could do for someone?!

So how does this relate to my refusing not to believe in the basic good of all people? In my interactions with others, it is that Good Seed God planted toward which I speak and act. If someone is rude toward me, I don’t talk to the rudeness. I reach out to the Good Seed. If someone offers harsh criticism, after he walks away I pray over his day and whatever may be going on in his life (Matt 5:44).

Now, it is important to bear in mind that this is a Christ-like attribute toward which to strive. It is an aspect of a spirit-filled life, a God-gift. We must, must, must always remember that we are human, we are not perfect, and we will not be able to keep this up 100% of the time. There is stuff going on in our lives, too. Just yesterday I allowed tired frustration to color my interaction with a pharmacy associate. She was only kind to me, but I was tired after a long day of work, irritated that they didn’t have what I wanted, beyond ready to go home, and therefore not as pleasant as I could’ve been. Even Jesus couldn’t keep it up 100% of the time (“Jesus was irate and let them know it…” see Mark 10:14), and if HE couldn’t do it, WE certainly can’t expect to. The key is to keep that in mind, to heighten our awareness of our attitudes toward others, to recognize and acknowledge when we fall short, and to pray about it, asking for forgiveness and the strength to do better the next time.

My prayer tonight is that I continue to work toward kindness, to seek out the Good Seed in everyone I meet, and that I can create sparks and light matches that help spread the Holy Fire of God’s Grace and Love.

Amen!  :D