Part of me hesitates to be so bold on a holiday so that I can avoid being that person who is the ultimate debbie-downer and self-focused enough that she can't see the inappropriateness of trumpeting her private doom and gloom. But that's only a part of me.
Most of me knows that's not what I'm doing. The counselor in me knows that the holidays are saturated with sad things: break-ups, relapses, poverty, suicides. I can think of countless faces and names that represent real pain, real trauma, real disappointment. Maybe by being honest about my own heavy soul will help others come out of hiding, because we know that in hiding, the gloom doesn't get exposed to the light... which is true and warm and rich and transforming.
I was looking forward to having some time to myself this week. I was viewing it as a precious stay-cation where I could read some good books by the fire, watch movies while sitting in a cocoon of a down comforter, walk to local restaurants with friends for happy hour, do some serious laundry, put on an apron and do some canning, entertain some people at least for one night, have a sleepover, watch the parade, spend some sweet time just me and the Lord. Truth be told, I have done a fair amount of the things on my list.
After staying up way too late watching Big Bang Theory (shout out Dad and Michael Stark), I stumbled out of bed at 6:50 so I could watch Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. I feel asleep about 40 minutes in, and woke up right as the hosts were signing off. My first thought was, "dang it. I missed Santa." Even typing that makes me laugh a little to myself. Oh well, on to the next thing: fire-side e-mailing. So and so likes your pin, pay $50 for $100 worth of something I don't need, fly roundtrip for $236, another job rejection e-mail. Pause.... followed by "dammit," which was followed by "Where ARE you?" I think he said, "I'm right here." I know that should have been good enough... but it wasn't. "I died for you Leigh Anne." Yeah... I want that to somehow make it all better, or at least help me feel happy and excited. "Be thankful. That will open your heart to be able to receive my peace that passes all understanding." I'm not proud of what I responded with. In fact, I'm ashamed... and at the same time I'm thankful that I know he can take it.
Despite my feelings, I do believe what God tells us: choosing thankfulness in the midst of ________ (fill in the blank), we make ourselves available to what God wants for us: peace, growth, refinement, hope, joy, depth, perspective.
So I decided to make a list of things that I'm thankful for. Here's what I came up with:
- the Ericksons
- sharpie pens that don't bleed through paper
- Happy Tummy tea
- cozy things: fire places, down comforters
- natural light
- the colors amber, olive, coral, navy, gray
- Sara Groves
- grandparents
- parents
- sisters
- poached eggs
- people who believe in me
- frozen yogurt
- misfit gatherings
- the Goodwill by my old house
- my hair when it's blow dried
- redemption
- truth
- severe mercies
- spotify
- canning
- apple butter
- lemon curd
- baby Ada cakes (can't wait to see her)
- good childhood memories
- Thanksgiving day parade
- people who tell me hard truths
- people who let me be in process
- teachability
- gesso
- free things
- Bodie's artwork
- Tate's babbling
- aprons
- growth
- self-awareness
- bold honesty
- surrender
- crazy love
- my Bible study
- relationships that are consistent and stable
- patience
- people who encourage me to be gracious with myself
- psalm 16
- texts from Caitlin Staples
- wearing dresses
- boots
- rooftop views
- complexity
- bucket lists
- Gregory Alan Isakov
- Brandi Carlile
- kari Jobe
- Patty Griffin
- cheese
- stringed instruments
- stacks of books
- magazines
- good toilet paper
- boundaries
- generosity
- intertwining of brokenness and beauty
- openness
- my experience at the Crossing, especially the groups
- baseball T's
- connecting
- empowering
- home movies
- hymns
- having a clear heart before the Lord
- repurposing
Here's the song I referenced in the title of this post: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LOGlUvqPAUo
It kind of reminds me of the lamenting Psalms, and how they hold sorrow and hope in tension... how they express sadness and fear, but book-end the raw distress with raw commitment to the Lord and a ruthless trust in his character. If I let the stubbornness slide off my back, it's replaced with acceptance: of my circumstances AND of God's presence (which encompasses so much more than I could ever articulate or even be aware of).
Next thing on the list for today... make that corn that reminds me of mom and Grandma Sally. Take a shower. Take the corn to a Thanksgiving meal. Laugh, smile, relate, listen, share.
Thursday, November 24, 2011
Saturday, October 8, 2011
{and it's just you and me here now, only you and me here now}
This song has been on repeat in my mind and iTunes for the past few days. Maybe about every fifth play, I smile because David Crowder always reminds me of the community bathroom in Olson Hall (2WO to be exact).
Take my heart, I Lay it down
At the feet of you who's crowned
Take my life, I’m letting go
I lift it upto You who’s throned
At the feet of you who's crowned
Take my life, I’m letting go
I lift it upto You who’s throned
And I will worship You, Lord
Only You, Lord
And I will bow down before You
Only You Lord
Only You, Lord
And I will bow down before You
Only You Lord
Take my fret, take my fear
All I have, I’m leaving here
Be all my hopes, be all my dreams
Be all my delights, be my everything
All I have, I’m leaving here
Be all my hopes, be all my dreams
Be all my delights, be my everything
And It’s just you and me here now
Only you and me here now
Only you and me here now
You should see the view
When it’s only You
When it’s only You
I've been entrusted with a brain that can analyze and process with the best of them. My mind is like a web of webs of information... data points collected from countless sights, sounds, smells, thoughts, feelings, emotions arranged in a complex interweaving of trains of thought made even more complex by the new bits of information added every day. This has made school ... well, I wouldn't say easier, per se... maybe I should say it has been a major contributor to my academic success. It has helped me in my quest to enjoy the depth and richness of life and people. It has enhanced my creativity. It has made my walk with God a unique one.
It has also given me at times a false sense of mastery and control. I have slipped into looking to my ability to make sense of things as a source of security and safety. I have found myself managing relationships based on my ability to conceptualize them. When the messiness of life turns out to be beyond me ability to conceptualize, I interpret my mental failure as personal failure.
And then our good and gracious God silences me, sometimes in a way that feels harsh and abrupt, always in a way that reminds me of his sovereignty. Until recently I think I interpreted anger from this kind of interaction with God. I don't want to go as far as to say that anger isn't a part of who God is or his heart towards me, BUT I do think that even if anger is part of the equation it's not the whole story. Actually, I'm going to be bold and say that it's not the most important part of what is going on.
God is good and gracious and tender and joyful and peaceful and powerful and just and merciful. In a moment of chaos, many times self-imposed, when I can't process my way out, God says, "make your heart right with me... and then wait. Wait and see how I show up. You aren't alone. I'm not going to give you what you deserve. Instead I'm offering you peace and hope that are deeper than the chaos and mess."
Thank you God for being bigger than what I can conceptualize. Thank you for being stronger than my fears. Thank you for being deeper than my emotions.
Monday, June 27, 2011
::: you did that for me :::
{name that artist and you get a prize... which will probably be a pat on the back that you have to give yourself. but that's a good prize. so do it.}
Over the past couple of weeks, I've become aware of the reality that I'm missing some of my clothes. Some of the items are incompatible with the Dallas heat, so I'm not too concerned. Other items {like all of my shorts except for 2 pairs}, seem slightly more relevant and necessary. I've been putting off going to the storage unit because storage units are dark and smelly and hot and a perfect example of organized chaos... especially when Isaac and George are your movers.
Today I broke. After a little Gilad-ing {shout out: Julie Heth, Lindsay Will, Britt Kroll, Lauren Angel, Julia Wicker, Becca Mercer}, Carol and I headed to Public Storage. I attempted to dig around and look at every label on every box. I even opened a few. No such luck. The whereabouts of my shorts and other summer attire remain a mystery.
We got back to the house and I could feel a little pit of frustration turning around in my gut. As I walked up the stairs I thought, "this is so not about the shorts."
And it's not that the shorts issue is the straw that has broken some camel's back. I think that somewhere in my heart I was hoping that finding that dang box would bring me some relief... of what I am not sure. Hmmmm. Maybe that's it- maybe I want relief from uncertainty, from not knowing, from being limited.
It is so apparent to me that I am limited. My post-masters, in-transition, unemployed heart can not analyze its way out of the uncertainty of life. It can't perform its way into a comfortable security. It can't come up with eloquent words and pretty analogies. In the midst of scrambling to do something, anything, to find a steady footing, God takes His big hands and wraps them around my heart and holds it still. At first it feels paralyzing. My heart starts to beat a bit harder as if it was trying to jump out of His hands. And then it pauses in the stillness.
I know that I know that I know that I know that God does not hold me in His hands simply to teach me a lesson for the sake of a lesson. This is not God putting me in shackles. This is God holding me still so that He can release me from what binds me up. He is ushering me into freedom. When my best efforts prove to be useless, when I have zero ability to do emotional and mental gymnastics, I'm left with only one reasonable choice.
Look what I read this morning:
"Rest with me a while. You have journeyed up a steep, rugged path in recent days. The way ahead is shrouded in uncertainty. Look neither behind you nor before you. Instead, focus your attention on Me, your constant Companion. Trust that I will equip you fully for whatever awaits you on your journey. I designed time to be a protection for you. You couldn't bear to see all your life at once. Though I am unlimited by time, it is in the present moment that I meet you. Refresh yourself in My company, breathing deep draughts of My presence. The highest level of trust is to enjoy Me moment by moment. I am with you, watching over you wherever you go."
Jesus Calling, Sara Young
I know I've referenced this book a few times now, and I think it's because something about the way this chick paraphrases scripture speaks to my heart. It strikes me as rich... and true. That kind of truth that is too good... too perfect...too healing... my heart hesitates and yearns to just soak it in at the same time. Today's little reading was followed by a couple of passages. One of them is Psalm 143.
"Hurry with your answer, God! I'm nearly at the end of my rope.
Don't turn away; don't ignore me! That would be certain death.
If you wake me each morning with the sound of your loving voice, I'll go to sleep each night trusting you.
Point out the road I must travel; I'm all ears, all eyes before you.
Save me from my enemies God--You're my only hope!
Teach me how to live to please you, because YOU are my God.
Lead me by your blessed Spirit into cleared and level pastureland."
{vs 7-10}
And then there's this S. Groves song that just messes me up.
... I don't have to know it all
I don't have to be so proud and stand so tall
I climbed that mountain only to fall
I don't have to know it all.
You did that for me,
Oh, you did that for me
You wore the chains so I could be free
You did that for me...
side note: it's been playing on repeat for an hour and a half and I'm not even close to being sick of it.
I think I've assumed that just being in the presence of the Lord without attempting to earn or perform or learn was just lazy... or lacked the promise of security. I thought choosing to sit at His feet was passive. But... today... I am realizing it isn't lazy or passive... at all. It requires that we battle our temptation to be in some sort of control over the world and our standings with Him. It requires that we fight the urge to :do: in order to find a way into His heart. Oh that's hard. What I maybe have seen as laziness or naiveté is the peace and freedom that comes from acknowledging that He has taken what I deserve so that I could be free.
"'Martha, Martha,' the Lord answered, 'you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed- or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better and it will not be taken away from her.'"
Luke 10:41-42
Mary chose Jesus. And she found joy and freedom and delight and intimacy and peace. Even through the pages Mary emanates this remarkable purity of spirit. And the presence of the Lord and all that floods "will not be taken away from her." oooooooh snaaaap.
Sometimes it is hard for me to trust God's invitation, and yet I know that if I am not pressing into Him and what He offers me, then what else am I left with? A world and its redundant currency of success, power, infatuations, and emptiness.
The desire of my heart is to take what feels like a risk and throw myself into what I sense God is calling me into. I already have a deep anticipation that what I find will be so unbelievably rich that I'll forget that I had to "risk" anything to get there.
{big sigh}
amen.
Over the past couple of weeks, I've become aware of the reality that I'm missing some of my clothes. Some of the items are incompatible with the Dallas heat, so I'm not too concerned. Other items {like all of my shorts except for 2 pairs}, seem slightly more relevant and necessary. I've been putting off going to the storage unit because storage units are dark and smelly and hot and a perfect example of organized chaos... especially when Isaac and George are your movers.
Today I broke. After a little Gilad-ing {shout out: Julie Heth, Lindsay Will, Britt Kroll, Lauren Angel, Julia Wicker, Becca Mercer}, Carol and I headed to Public Storage. I attempted to dig around and look at every label on every box. I even opened a few. No such luck. The whereabouts of my shorts and other summer attire remain a mystery.
We got back to the house and I could feel a little pit of frustration turning around in my gut. As I walked up the stairs I thought, "this is so not about the shorts."
And it's not that the shorts issue is the straw that has broken some camel's back. I think that somewhere in my heart I was hoping that finding that dang box would bring me some relief... of what I am not sure. Hmmmm. Maybe that's it- maybe I want relief from uncertainty, from not knowing, from being limited.
It is so apparent to me that I am limited. My post-masters, in-transition, unemployed heart can not analyze its way out of the uncertainty of life. It can't perform its way into a comfortable security. It can't come up with eloquent words and pretty analogies. In the midst of scrambling to do something, anything, to find a steady footing, God takes His big hands and wraps them around my heart and holds it still. At first it feels paralyzing. My heart starts to beat a bit harder as if it was trying to jump out of His hands. And then it pauses in the stillness.
I know that I know that I know that I know that God does not hold me in His hands simply to teach me a lesson for the sake of a lesson. This is not God putting me in shackles. This is God holding me still so that He can release me from what binds me up. He is ushering me into freedom. When my best efforts prove to be useless, when I have zero ability to do emotional and mental gymnastics, I'm left with only one reasonable choice.
Look what I read this morning:
"Rest with me a while. You have journeyed up a steep, rugged path in recent days. The way ahead is shrouded in uncertainty. Look neither behind you nor before you. Instead, focus your attention on Me, your constant Companion. Trust that I will equip you fully for whatever awaits you on your journey. I designed time to be a protection for you. You couldn't bear to see all your life at once. Though I am unlimited by time, it is in the present moment that I meet you. Refresh yourself in My company, breathing deep draughts of My presence. The highest level of trust is to enjoy Me moment by moment. I am with you, watching over you wherever you go."
Jesus Calling, Sara Young
I know I've referenced this book a few times now, and I think it's because something about the way this chick paraphrases scripture speaks to my heart. It strikes me as rich... and true. That kind of truth that is too good... too perfect...too healing... my heart hesitates and yearns to just soak it in at the same time. Today's little reading was followed by a couple of passages. One of them is Psalm 143.
"Hurry with your answer, God! I'm nearly at the end of my rope.
Don't turn away; don't ignore me! That would be certain death.
If you wake me each morning with the sound of your loving voice, I'll go to sleep each night trusting you.
Point out the road I must travel; I'm all ears, all eyes before you.
Save me from my enemies God--You're my only hope!
Teach me how to live to please you, because YOU are my God.
Lead me by your blessed Spirit into cleared and level pastureland."
{vs 7-10}
And then there's this S. Groves song that just messes me up.
... I don't have to know it all
I don't have to be so proud and stand so tall
I climbed that mountain only to fall
I don't have to know it all.
You did that for me,
Oh, you did that for me
You wore the chains so I could be free
You did that for me...
side note: it's been playing on repeat for an hour and a half and I'm not even close to being sick of it.
I think I've assumed that just being in the presence of the Lord without attempting to earn or perform or learn was just lazy... or lacked the promise of security. I thought choosing to sit at His feet was passive. But... today... I am realizing it isn't lazy or passive... at all. It requires that we battle our temptation to be in some sort of control over the world and our standings with Him. It requires that we fight the urge to :do: in order to find a way into His heart. Oh that's hard. What I maybe have seen as laziness or naiveté is the peace and freedom that comes from acknowledging that He has taken what I deserve so that I could be free.
"'Martha, Martha,' the Lord answered, 'you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed- or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better and it will not be taken away from her.'"
Luke 10:41-42
Mary chose Jesus. And she found joy and freedom and delight and intimacy and peace. Even through the pages Mary emanates this remarkable purity of spirit. And the presence of the Lord and all that floods "will not be taken away from her." oooooooh snaaaap.
Sometimes it is hard for me to trust God's invitation, and yet I know that if I am not pressing into Him and what He offers me, then what else am I left with? A world and its redundant currency of success, power, infatuations, and emptiness.
The desire of my heart is to take what feels like a risk and throw myself into what I sense God is calling me into. I already have a deep anticipation that what I find will be so unbelievably rich that I'll forget that I had to "risk" anything to get there.
{big sigh}
amen.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
{strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow...
... blessings all mine, with then thousand beside}
Sometimes I approach God like those superhero cartoons approach their oddly omniscient leader... all gathering together standing in front of some big screen where they can see and hear, but not touch, the mastermind, ready to get the briefing before going out to save the world from whatever might be threatening everything that is good and right on that particular day. This morning was like that for me. "Ok God. I'm here. I've got my cape, my sassy spandex, my cute little superpowers, and a good attitude. Tell me what to do. Send me off. Don't you worry. I'll get things put back together in no time."
Then God did something that completely threw me. He stepped out of the big flat screen and moved towards me while pulling me in all in the same motion. And he said this:
"Learn to laugh at yourself more freely. Don't take yourself or your circumstances so seriously. Relax and know that I am God with you. When you desire My will above all else, life becomes much less threatening. Stop trying to monitor My responsibilities--things that are beyond your control. Find freedom by accepting the boundaries of your domain. Laughter lightens your load and lifts your heart into heavenly places. Your laughter rises to heaven and blends with angelic melodies of praise. Just as parents delight in the laughter of their children, so I delight in hearing My children laugh. I rejoice when you trust Me enough to enjoy your life lightheartedly. Do not miss the Joy of My Presence by carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. Rather, take My yoke upon you and learn from Me. My yoke is comfortable and pleasant; My burden is light and easily borne."
(Sarah Young, Jesus Calling)
Oh snap. Reflecting back, I see how it could be easy to almost take those words as an insult... as a threat to our hard earned self assurance. I think today I just feel still. I'm actually smiling because I am picturing a sweetie pie little girl in a resourcefully designed superhero costume just standing, mouth open, head tilted up, too taken by the magnificence in front of her to realize that she's dropped her teddy-bear-side-kick... that she's literally melting into God's words to her.
God continues:
"You are my beloved child. I chose you before the foundation of the world, to walk with Me along paths designed uniquely for you. Concentrate on keeping in step with Me, instead of trying to anticipate My plans for you. If you trust that My plans are to prosper you and not to harm you, you can relax and enjoy the present moment. Your hope and future are rooted in heaven, where eternal ecstasy awaits you. Nothing can rob you of your inheritance of unimaginable riches and well-being. Sometimes I grant you glimpses of your glorious future, to encourage you and spur you on. But your main focus should be staying close to Me. I set the pace in keeping with your needs and My purposes."
(Sarah Young, Jesus Calling)
My mind is sort of magnetizing back to this one picture in my head... a picture of an actual picture :) that my dad has used numerous times in past sermons. It's a picture of my dad holding mine and my older sister's hands, one of us on either side of him, as we walk down a beach. Andrea is probably about 6, which would make me about 3. We've got our little rain jackets on, and the weather looks a little bit damp and cloudy. My mom captured the perfect moment with the camera--which should come as no shock... she's amazing with cameras amongst other things. My dad's stature is big and strong...the kind of size that could overpower our little bodies... yet the way he is holding our hands you can tell we were all walking together with ease. Andrea and I are almost hopping... partly so our little legs could keep up with daddio, and partly because we were feeling so free. I love it... love love love it.
There is a part of my heart that has been so resistant to walk this way with God. I guess I can see how that particular stubbornness has developed. Yet even given the list of all the little rationales, I am sitting here today with a persistent thought: "I didn't realize... I didn't realize I was living in bondage, I thought I was living free. This is the power of the gospel- that by the blood of Jesus we have been invited to walk closely with Abba daddy... having a heart that is freed up to be delighted and giggly, even on a big and potentially threatening beach... confident that he is holding me tight, smiling so big."
It is in this space with the Lord that I am most accurately perceiving who God is, who I am, and my experiences/circumstances. I think it is in this space that a profound and uninhibited trust in God's faithfulness is harvested... being so saturated in the freedom of being present to Him that we could be in Hebrews 11:31-35a or a Hebrews 11:35b-38 and be authentically worshipping God, thanking Him for His faithfulness. Oh I want my heart to stay in that space.
This morning I woke up and had a text from my mom reminding me of what happened 10 years ago today. Surprisingly, my heart response wasn't very pronounced or intense. I didn't feel sad or mad or empty or afraid. Those thoughts didn't even have an inch of mental space to occupy. I was thinking about her warrior heart... her strength and beauty that somehow permeated the chaos. She was thinking about me...my courageous heart. My soul started to sing:
Great is Thy faithfulness, O God my Father
there is no shadow of turning with Thee
Thou changest not, Thy compassions they fail not
as Thou hast been Thou forever wilt be
the sun is out. and i'm melting into Him.
Sometimes I approach God like those superhero cartoons approach their oddly omniscient leader... all gathering together standing in front of some big screen where they can see and hear, but not touch, the mastermind, ready to get the briefing before going out to save the world from whatever might be threatening everything that is good and right on that particular day. This morning was like that for me. "Ok God. I'm here. I've got my cape, my sassy spandex, my cute little superpowers, and a good attitude. Tell me what to do. Send me off. Don't you worry. I'll get things put back together in no time."
Then God did something that completely threw me. He stepped out of the big flat screen and moved towards me while pulling me in all in the same motion. And he said this:
"Learn to laugh at yourself more freely. Don't take yourself or your circumstances so seriously. Relax and know that I am God with you. When you desire My will above all else, life becomes much less threatening. Stop trying to monitor My responsibilities--things that are beyond your control. Find freedom by accepting the boundaries of your domain. Laughter lightens your load and lifts your heart into heavenly places. Your laughter rises to heaven and blends with angelic melodies of praise. Just as parents delight in the laughter of their children, so I delight in hearing My children laugh. I rejoice when you trust Me enough to enjoy your life lightheartedly. Do not miss the Joy of My Presence by carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. Rather, take My yoke upon you and learn from Me. My yoke is comfortable and pleasant; My burden is light and easily borne."
(Sarah Young, Jesus Calling)
Oh snap. Reflecting back, I see how it could be easy to almost take those words as an insult... as a threat to our hard earned self assurance. I think today I just feel still. I'm actually smiling because I am picturing a sweetie pie little girl in a resourcefully designed superhero costume just standing, mouth open, head tilted up, too taken by the magnificence in front of her to realize that she's dropped her teddy-bear-side-kick... that she's literally melting into God's words to her.
God continues:
"You are my beloved child. I chose you before the foundation of the world, to walk with Me along paths designed uniquely for you. Concentrate on keeping in step with Me, instead of trying to anticipate My plans for you. If you trust that My plans are to prosper you and not to harm you, you can relax and enjoy the present moment. Your hope and future are rooted in heaven, where eternal ecstasy awaits you. Nothing can rob you of your inheritance of unimaginable riches and well-being. Sometimes I grant you glimpses of your glorious future, to encourage you and spur you on. But your main focus should be staying close to Me. I set the pace in keeping with your needs and My purposes."
(Sarah Young, Jesus Calling)
My mind is sort of magnetizing back to this one picture in my head... a picture of an actual picture :) that my dad has used numerous times in past sermons. It's a picture of my dad holding mine and my older sister's hands, one of us on either side of him, as we walk down a beach. Andrea is probably about 6, which would make me about 3. We've got our little rain jackets on, and the weather looks a little bit damp and cloudy. My mom captured the perfect moment with the camera--which should come as no shock... she's amazing with cameras amongst other things. My dad's stature is big and strong...the kind of size that could overpower our little bodies... yet the way he is holding our hands you can tell we were all walking together with ease. Andrea and I are almost hopping... partly so our little legs could keep up with daddio, and partly because we were feeling so free. I love it... love love love it.
There is a part of my heart that has been so resistant to walk this way with God. I guess I can see how that particular stubbornness has developed. Yet even given the list of all the little rationales, I am sitting here today with a persistent thought: "I didn't realize... I didn't realize I was living in bondage, I thought I was living free. This is the power of the gospel- that by the blood of Jesus we have been invited to walk closely with Abba daddy... having a heart that is freed up to be delighted and giggly, even on a big and potentially threatening beach... confident that he is holding me tight, smiling so big."
It is in this space with the Lord that I am most accurately perceiving who God is, who I am, and my experiences/circumstances. I think it is in this space that a profound and uninhibited trust in God's faithfulness is harvested... being so saturated in the freedom of being present to Him that we could be in Hebrews 11:31-35a or a Hebrews 11:35b-38 and be authentically worshipping God, thanking Him for His faithfulness. Oh I want my heart to stay in that space.
This morning I woke up and had a text from my mom reminding me of what happened 10 years ago today. Surprisingly, my heart response wasn't very pronounced or intense. I didn't feel sad or mad or empty or afraid. Those thoughts didn't even have an inch of mental space to occupy. I was thinking about her warrior heart... her strength and beauty that somehow permeated the chaos. She was thinking about me...my courageous heart. My soul started to sing:
Great is Thy faithfulness, O God my Father
there is no shadow of turning with Thee
Thou changest not, Thy compassions they fail not
as Thou hast been Thou forever wilt be
the sun is out. and i'm melting into Him.
Saturday, June 11, 2011
{there is a hope that whispers a vow...
... a promise to stay while we're working it out, so come with your love and wash over us}
s. groves
There's something about Dallas that exposes places of my heart that seem to want to hide. Some of the places are indeed the corners that are perfect for a sin to weasel into and hide from the light. Other places are pure and good and rich- just a little hesitant to step into the vulnerability of being seen. There's just something about being here. Unlike a lot of things in my life, the "something" is tangible... unnamable, but tangible. I can feel it in my chest, I can sense it in my mind, and feel it in my soul.... deep down. It's as if this has become the place God takes me when he wants some one-on-one time, away from the chaos of life. There are people here that I know have specifically been placed in my life to help me re-calibrate, to give me a broader picture of who Abba is, to hold up a mirror and say, "girlie, this is who you are. Can't you see it?" I think my tired little heart knew it had been wrung out during seminary... and I think it knew to come here... kind of like how mommy penguins regularly do the whole migration to the ocean to fill their bellies with food to bring back to their babies. {At least I think that's how it works... roughly.}
One of my favorite things about Dallas is the morning. I like waking up here. Maybe it's the sunlight that flows in, maybe it's Annie the dog coming to greet me while I'm still in bed, maybe it's Gilad [side note: if you don't know about the Israeli studmuffin, look him up. now.] The morning comes in and invites me to sit right smack dab in the presence of God... right at His feet. It's easy for me forget that I have permission to be there. Hmmmmm.... actually it's not permission. I don't think God just puts up with me coming to Him... I think He longs for it. I think He's created a comfy little spot to perfectly suit my booty. The hope is to choose to connect to this place wherever I am- physically, emotionally, cognitively.
In that place before God any rigidity in my heart softens. Tightness loosens. Numbness fades. I start to sink back into myself. Just as soon as I sink in and settle, this subtle awareness and knowledge of God starts to flow in. I find a calmness and a peace and a hope that the world just can't offer. There's a joy that seems too good to be true. WIthout even trying I start to feel surrendered. When I'm sitting before the Lord my heart-response is gratitude, trust, humility, confidence, peace, restfulness. Maybe the most noticeable feeling I have is that I can just be... because sitting at the throne is different than trying to sit in it. Acknowledging that God is God and I am not is soul-freeing. Funny how we can start to think that control is the remedy for fear. No way jose. It's submission to God's omniscience. Putting self or anything else in God's throne only feeds the fear and increases the demands on the soul.
I don't know why we wander from this place of surrender and start to creep up onto the throne. Maybe we get over-confident or impatient. Maybe we start to listen to the serpent like Eve did- "Don't you know? God's holding out on you."
Listening to that lie starts to create a prodigal heart, at least it has in me. I gather up my inheritance- the ways God has gifted me, created me, blessed me- and I take off to find my own way. I have been overwhelmed with the awareness of how this prodigal daughter has broken my Father's heart... but... I have been more overwhelmed by His response to me when reality sets in and I am absolutely and completely without- nothing to sustain me, nothing to give back as a penance to my Father.
"[I] was so hungry [I] would have eaten the corn cobs in the pig slop, but no one would give [me] any. That brought [me] to [my] senses. [I] said,
'All those farmhands working for my father sit down to three meals a day, and here I am starving to death. I'm going back to my father. I'll say to him, father, I've sinned against God, I've sinned before you; I don't deserve to be called your [daughter]. Take me on as a hired hand.'
[I] got right up and went home to [my] father.
When [I] was still a long way off, [my] father saw [me]. His heart pounding, he ran out, embraced [me], and kissed [me]. [I] started [my] speech:
'Father, I've sinned against God, I've sinned before you; I don't deserve to be called your [daughter] ever again.'
But [my] father wasn't listening. He was calling to the servants, 'Quick. Bring a clean set of clothes and dress [her]. Put the family ring on [her] finger and sandals on [her] feet. Then get a grain-fed heifer and roast it. We're going to feast! We're going to have a wonderful time! My [daughter] is here- given up for dead and now alive! Given up for lost and now found!'
And [we] began to have a wonderful time."
It's like Miss Groves so eloquently sings:
there is a love that never fails
there is a healing that always prevails
there is a hope that whispers a vow
a promise to stay while we're working it out
so come with your love and wash over us
Thank you, my father,
for whispering a vow when I don't hear you call
thank you staying when I wander
thank you for being patient while I work it out
thank you.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
{i never swam far from shore}
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=av2O2MIZuHY
I think I've been listening to this song on repeat for about an hour at least and I'm not even the least bit sick of it. There's an ease to the melody, and a consistency... a confident yet at-peace stillness. It's a song that reminds me of the eye of a storm. Perhaps that is why it has made itself at home in my head.
Lately I've been feeling what I can only describe as slow motion chaos. There's an element of that every time I'm anticipating big change or transition. My counselor-self reassures my non-counselor-self that this is all normal, and I'll soon settle back into homoeostasis. In the meantime, I'll listen to this song and others like it that seem to infuse the slow motion chaos with a soothing reminder of transcendence. Standing alone, on a sandbar out in the middle of some vast expanse of water, a monster of a wave threatening my unprotected human body with its mass. I close my eyes, surrender to the unknown, and the fear fades because I know the Knower.
I'm not sure exactly what the wave is. Maybe I subconsciously named it earlier... "the unknown." Not just some stupid "unknown" that people refer to when someone graduates high school or college... or a masters program. I mean sure, yes, I am graduating in a month-ish. No I don't have a ten year plan... or a one year plan. But to say that my personal unknown can be simplified to graduating without having nailed down my next whatever is almost insulting. The big wave is so much more complex and mysterious, probably because a person is so much more than a two-dimensional being that leads a connect-the-dots kind of existence.
In my world, the unknown is synonymous with tension. I think of how many times I sense its threatening presence and react by either running towards the wave and surrender to it just so that I don't have to anticipate my collapse any longer, or putting up my dukes as if I could fight it off. I'm picturing that kid from the movie Little Giants who has the muscle mass of... well... me..., and stands in front of a mirror growling and flexing.
What about rooting myself in truth {i.e. who God is, who I am, what God has promised}, fighting the urge to react, inhale slow and deep, and stand in the unknown... in the tension... in the blank spots that are left when old lies are finally seen for what they really are- empty.
The complexity, mystery, and silencing power of the big wave sends my thoughts to my God who is not just complex but sovereign over His intricacies; who is not just mysterious but stays with us in the silence; who is not just powerful but compassionate in His omnipotence.
I'm thinking about the last line of "A Grief Observed." Lewis quotes Dante {I think?} to give one final glimpse into the preciousness of his bride's heart.
"Poi si torno all' eterna fontana," ...
"then into the eternal fountain she turned."
I think I've been listening to this song on repeat for about an hour at least and I'm not even the least bit sick of it. There's an ease to the melody, and a consistency... a confident yet at-peace stillness. It's a song that reminds me of the eye of a storm. Perhaps that is why it has made itself at home in my head.
Lately I've been feeling what I can only describe as slow motion chaos. There's an element of that every time I'm anticipating big change or transition. My counselor-self reassures my non-counselor-self that this is all normal, and I'll soon settle back into homoeostasis. In the meantime, I'll listen to this song and others like it that seem to infuse the slow motion chaos with a soothing reminder of transcendence. Standing alone, on a sandbar out in the middle of some vast expanse of water, a monster of a wave threatening my unprotected human body with its mass. I close my eyes, surrender to the unknown, and the fear fades because I know the Knower.
I'm not sure exactly what the wave is. Maybe I subconsciously named it earlier... "the unknown." Not just some stupid "unknown" that people refer to when someone graduates high school or college... or a masters program. I mean sure, yes, I am graduating in a month-ish. No I don't have a ten year plan... or a one year plan. But to say that my personal unknown can be simplified to graduating without having nailed down my next whatever is almost insulting. The big wave is so much more complex and mysterious, probably because a person is so much more than a two-dimensional being that leads a connect-the-dots kind of existence.
In my world, the unknown is synonymous with tension. I think of how many times I sense its threatening presence and react by either running towards the wave and surrender to it just so that I don't have to anticipate my collapse any longer, or putting up my dukes as if I could fight it off. I'm picturing that kid from the movie Little Giants who has the muscle mass of... well... me..., and stands in front of a mirror growling and flexing.
What about rooting myself in truth {i.e. who God is, who I am, what God has promised}, fighting the urge to react, inhale slow and deep, and stand in the unknown... in the tension... in the blank spots that are left when old lies are finally seen for what they really are- empty.
The complexity, mystery, and silencing power of the big wave sends my thoughts to my God who is not just complex but sovereign over His intricacies; who is not just mysterious but stays with us in the silence; who is not just powerful but compassionate in His omnipotence.
I never swam far from shore
never tried the secret door
but when you give me love
when you give me love
I have no fear of heights
no fear of the deep blue sea
although it could drown me
I know it could drown me
I'm warming up to the idea that not only does God meet me in the tension, out in the middle of the deep blue sea, but that He actually calls me out there... He invites me into the tension, into the unknown, into the slow motion chaos.
Because
it's in that tension that I must be oriented to Him. My heart must be calibrated according to His. We are made to outgrow the excitement of the shore. We are made to venture into the dangerous places in life, or simply the awareness of them. I do not pretend to have a tight grasp on the "whys" and "hows," but I am confident in this: God draws us into the tension and into Himself in the same motion.
I never walked near the edge
used to fear falling
...
but when you give me love
when you give me love
...
no fear of the fall
no fear if it's with you that I fall
I'm thinking about the last line of "A Grief Observed." Lewis quotes Dante {I think?} to give one final glimpse into the preciousness of his bride's heart.
"Poi si torno all' eterna fontana," ...
"then into the eternal fountain she turned."
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
:: all i have need of ::
For whatever reason, I have been feeling uncomfortably in tune with my need for God. A good pastor's daughter like me comes out of the womb knowing that "there's a God-shaped-vacuum inside every person," and that "nothing but God can satisfy it." I get it, I know it, I believe it. Lately I think I have been living it. I live the longing for something outside of me to provide even a hint comfort, hope, joy, conviction, passion, empowerment, purpose, peace. I live the disappointment that follows when I pick something other than the something. {Thankfully} I live the "power and comfort of God's hand in mine,"** when I orient myself to God, his truth, his people, his leadership, his judgment, his mercy, his covenant, his spirit.
Today this song came up on my iPod.
**http://www.last.fm/music/Sara+Groves/_/He%27s+Always+Been+Faithful
One of the lines is, "all I have need of his hand will provide, he's always been faithful to me." There are so many times that I am so overcome by the "all I have need of," part {my needs, poverty, starvation, rape, murder, broken marriages, miscarriages, death, cancer, yadda yadda yadda}. Tonight the tears come because I just can not get over the profound reality that "he's always been faithful to me."
It's not that I have forgotten the longings of my heart. They are still very present, and very real. At the same time, I am struck by the richness, purity, and depth of God's provision. I don't know why it is so easy for me to start to fear that God will suddenly decide to stop providing. The Bible doesn't teach me that- it teaches that God is a covenant keeper- that he knows me, cares for me, is gracious unto me, created me, redeems me, forgives me, protects me. When the fear sets in, that's when I try to take matters in my own hands.
I'm thinking of what happens sometimes when I'm babysitting : I make the bottle, baby sees bottle, I take baby and bottle into baby's room, I set bottle down, attempt to change baby, baby who has seen bottle screams because I'm trying to change them into pajamas first, baby resists the pajama change prolonging the process. Poor thing doesn't know that if they would just stop resisting, we'd get those little jammies zipped up and go get the bottle.
I become baby: "ummmmm I just saw God make the bottle, but now he's withholding it from me?" So I fight it, and fight it, and fight it. I imagine God saying, "just settle down, slow down, calm down."
We can wiggle ourselves out of the God's arms that have never ceased to provide in an attempt to get our hands on the goods and satisfy what feels like a starving belly. That's kind of what Abram and Sarai tended to do {read it}. I wonder if they would have had to wait so long for Isaac had they been more obedient. We can't really know that, but I think we can be fairly confident that they would have avoided some fall-out {i.e. Hagar drama} had they chosen to walk with God rather than trying to fulfill God's promise to them... by themselves. Kind of stupid, actually. I don't know why humanity does that.
We do not get to control how God demonstrates his faithfulness or the timing of the process.
But we do have choice in the matter:
option #1: earnestly seek God's hand {i.e. God to act in the ways we expect/demand}
or
option #2: earnestly seek God's face.
The former can leave us disappointed, throwing a hissy, deciding that God is holding out. That's super annoying and tends to isolate us from relationships because other people get sick of being around that craziness. But the worst part about option #1 is that we are missing out on the profound experience of knowing God.
My knowledge of God is earth-bound, but it is profoundly rich and life giving- it's intangible and indescribable, and so intimate that no other human being can ever comprehensively experience it with me.
And yet it comprehensively
... no...
it abundantly fills me.
i can't remember a trial or a pain
he did not recycle to bring me gain
i can't remember one single regret
in serving God only and trusting his hand
all i have need of his hand will provide
he's always been faithful to me
Today this song came up on my iPod.
**http://www.last.fm/music/Sara+Groves/_/He%27s+Always+Been+Faithful
One of the lines is, "all I have need of his hand will provide, he's always been faithful to me." There are so many times that I am so overcome by the "all I have need of," part {my needs, poverty, starvation, rape, murder, broken marriages, miscarriages, death, cancer, yadda yadda yadda}. Tonight the tears come because I just can not get over the profound reality that "he's always been faithful to me."
It's not that I have forgotten the longings of my heart. They are still very present, and very real. At the same time, I am struck by the richness, purity, and depth of God's provision. I don't know why it is so easy for me to start to fear that God will suddenly decide to stop providing. The Bible doesn't teach me that- it teaches that God is a covenant keeper- that he knows me, cares for me, is gracious unto me, created me, redeems me, forgives me, protects me. When the fear sets in, that's when I try to take matters in my own hands.
I'm thinking of what happens sometimes when I'm babysitting : I make the bottle, baby sees bottle, I take baby and bottle into baby's room, I set bottle down, attempt to change baby, baby who has seen bottle screams because I'm trying to change them into pajamas first, baby resists the pajama change prolonging the process. Poor thing doesn't know that if they would just stop resisting, we'd get those little jammies zipped up and go get the bottle.
I become baby: "ummmmm I just saw God make the bottle, but now he's withholding it from me?" So I fight it, and fight it, and fight it. I imagine God saying, "just settle down, slow down, calm down."
We can wiggle ourselves out of the God's arms that have never ceased to provide in an attempt to get our hands on the goods and satisfy what feels like a starving belly. That's kind of what Abram and Sarai tended to do {read it}. I wonder if they would have had to wait so long for Isaac had they been more obedient. We can't really know that, but I think we can be fairly confident that they would have avoided some fall-out {i.e. Hagar drama} had they chosen to walk with God rather than trying to fulfill God's promise to them... by themselves. Kind of stupid, actually. I don't know why humanity does that.
We do not get to control how God demonstrates his faithfulness or the timing of the process.
But we do have choice in the matter:
option #1: earnestly seek God's hand {i.e. God to act in the ways we expect/demand}
or
option #2: earnestly seek God's face.
The former can leave us disappointed, throwing a hissy, deciding that God is holding out. That's super annoying and tends to isolate us from relationships because other people get sick of being around that craziness. But the worst part about option #1 is that we are missing out on the profound experience of knowing God.
My knowledge of God is earth-bound, but it is profoundly rich and life giving- it's intangible and indescribable, and so intimate that no other human being can ever comprehensively experience it with me.
And yet it comprehensively
... no...
it abundantly fills me.
i can't remember a trial or a pain
he did not recycle to bring me gain
i can't remember one single regret
in serving God only and trusting his hand
all i have need of his hand will provide
he's always been faithful to me
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