deeply

by hovering love

“ . . . . for the truth didn’t sink deeply into his heart.”  (Mt. 13:21 TPT)

As I read through the Parable of the Sower in Matthew 13, my attention is captured by this wording in The Passion Translation:  sink deeply into his heart.  This inspires me to engage my imagination with this passage in a different manner, to visualize it through a different lens.

In the past, I’ve felt a mixture of grateful encouragement and conviction when meditating on this parable and the explanation that Jesus shares with his disciples.  In the four scenarios provided in the parable, only one scenario involves the removal of the seed from the heart — the first soil/heart where the seed remains only on the surface.  In the other three scenarios, the seed remains in the heart.  Granted, two of the three other seeds experience results that appear to be less than desired, but they do remain in the heart.  It is only in one scenario where the seed remains in the heart and experiences abundant fruitfulness; however, we do not know how this abundant fruitfulness comes about.  That is a mystery.

As I contemplate this passage, I think of my own garden — the seeds I’ve planted, the plants that have survived, the plants that have thrived, and those that have produced fruit of some kind.  I’ve planted some seeds that never came up at all.  I’ve planted other seeds that came up and grew into solid plants, but didn’t produce fruit.  Some plants produced lovely fruit the first season, and others didn’t produce fruit until after being in the ground for several years.  I’ve learned that some seeds/plants need time to produce fruit.  This is where my grateful encouragement comes from:  as long as the seed remains in the soil, there is hope that it will produce fruit of its kind in time.

As long as the seed remains in the heart, there is always hope.  “Sinking deeply into the heart” takes time, much time, even decades.  I understand things about myself and God today that I was truly clueless about 40 or 50 years ago.  This “fruitfulness” isn’t instant, which is unfortunate for those who don’t want to wait, who desire it all NOW.  The fruit grows as the relationship with God deepens.  When I consider the soil of my heart, I recognize that the surface soil is always softer than the packed-down soil underneath it.  As a result, there can be an initial fruitfulness (which may be so tiny that I can’t even see it) that is prevented from being the “30, 60 or 100 times what was sown” because of the harder soil underneath.  As the hard soil underneath gets slowly broken apart by the experiences of life and grace, the seeds can begin to work their roots further down and deeper into the heart.  What may have initially produced a 15 times harvest, may now be a 30 times harvest.  With even more life lived and grace received, the 30 times slowly turns into a 60, and eventually into a 100 times what was sown.     

My old lens saw this parable in terms of quantity:  30, 60, 100, size, numbers, etc.  As a result, I always felt a sense of conviction about how little fruit I perceived to be in my life and being.  But perhaps quantity is not the miraculous part.  Perhaps the unimaginably, miraculous part is the fact that the fruitfulness (or harvest) of each seed that remains in our heart continues throughout our years, moving deeper into our hearts with time, and becoming fuller, sweeter, and richer in quality with each season of our life.  Perhaps the producing of the “100 times” harvest has occurred over many decades with the fruit of each harvest season becoming more and more pure.  Is it possible that this kind of fruitfulness can occur in a vacuum?  I think not; it will be felt by everyone who comes into contact with it, everyone who sees and experiences it.

Something to consider.    

icon

by hovering love

As I sit with this icon of the Holy Trinity, I imagine myself as a child.  My mother and I are visiting with my grandparents at their home.  My grandparents and my mother are sitting at the kitchen table.  As I enter the kitchen, my grandparents warmly invite me to join them at the table.  I don’t know or understand what the three adults are discussing, but my grandmother has baked fresh cookies and she’s poured a glass of milk for me.  I happily sit with these adults, eating my cookies and milk.  I feel a strong sense of safety, contentedness, belonging and being love.

Then I imagine being at the table with these three adults and my favorite cousin.  My cousin and I don’t understand or pay much attention to the conversation of the three adults, but we are happy and content to be with them and with each other – and to share the cookies and milk that Grandma has prepared for us.  I feel the same sense of safe contented belonging and love being shared between all five of us.

Next, I imagine being at the table with these three adults and the little boy who lived down the road from my grandparents.  This boy (I can’t even remember his name now) and I weren’t friends and playmates, but we weren’t “enemies” either.  I don’t mind that Grandma pours a glass of milk for him and asks me to share the cookies with him.  It’s nice to have another person my age at the table, but I don’t feel the same sense of cozy, contented love being shared between the five of us as I felt with my cousin.  Afterall, he’s not a “family member”, he’s a guest.  But it’s still quite amiable, pleasant and enjoyable for all of us.

Finally, I imagine being at the table with these three adults and a girl who lived down the street from me.  Her name was Gloria.  She was 1 or 2 years older than I.  She was bossy, demanding and she spoke and acted in mean ways towards others – myself included.  My best friend, Sharon, and I rode on the school bus with Gloria, but we always tried to sit as far away from her as we could – more out of fear than dislike, although we didn’t like her much either.  As my grandparents invite Gloria to sit at the table and enjoy cookies and milk with us, I feel disgruntled and annoyed.  Why should I have to be nice and share with her when she’s always mean to me?  Don’t my grandparents realize that she’s not my friend?  Don’t they realize that she doesn’t even like me – or I her?  Do they have any idea of what she’s really like?  She is polite enough to my mother and grandparents, but she also monopolizes the conversation with talk about herself.  I find myself resenting the attention that Gloria demands and receives.  The three adults politely listen to her without displaying any sign of annoyance.  In fact, they treat her with the same kindness, generosity and grace that they treat me, my cousin and the boy down the road with.  I feel skeptical of this – surely, they’re just being nice to our guest, even if she is being a tedious bore.  But what if they’re not just being nice?  What if they think she’s ok?  What if they actually like her?  I feel a sense of panic and dismay growing within me.  I feel lost and threatened, and I feel resentful that I should be feeling these uncomfortable things in the presence of my mother and grandparents – people who I share that circle of safe, happy, contented belonging and love with.  As a child, I don’t understand what is happening to me and I feel angry and sad at the same time.  The cookies and milk don’t taste good any more, in fact, I don’t want them – Gloria can have them all!  I sit very quiet and still, pouting and stewing inside, wondering when this will end and Gloria will go home.

As an adult, I wonder how my practice of visio divina with this icon reflects who I am today.  As I come to the table of the Holy Trinity, I feel the joy and peace of being their precious beloved.  I feel this same joy and peace, this same beloved-ness, as I come to the Trinity’s table with others who are like me – people who I receive as family, friends, loved ones.  I even feel open and benevolent about including those who I don’t have any real feelings one way or the other about at the Trinity’s table with me.  But what about those people who I don’t like, don’t agree with, don’t get along with, or don’t even know – what is my real inner attitude about sitting at the Trinity’s table with them?  How willing am I to view, perceive and receive them as the Holy Trinity views, perceives and receives them?  What is the state of my heart towards them?  I fear that the state of my adult heart towards strangers is, more often than not, not all that different than the state of my heart was towards Gloria when I was a little girl.  For this, I must repent again and again and again.       

child

by hovering love

“He said this simply and clearly so they couldn’t miss it.”

(Mark 8:32a, The Message)

Jesus means business in this passage – he’s speaking as clearly as he can with no stories, no metaphors; this is the real deal.  He’s trying to communicate serious, sober reality that goes far beyond what the 12 (and all the other followers) can grasp or fully understand, and certainly far beyond anything that these followers have ever expected, anticipated or imagined.  Jesus spoke simply and clearly to them so they wouldn’t miss what he was trying to communicate to them – and yet, they didn’t understand.  

Jesus’ words are like those of a parent who is trying to prepare their child for something that is coming, something that will be hard for them to face and endure, something that will require more from them than they are presently mature enough to handle well.  Often, a child cannot understand what is happening around them, but they can perceive a change in their parent’s demeanor and tone of voice.  They may not know what is wrong, but they will sense that something is wrong; they will sense there is trouble.  I imagine that Jesus’ followers were experiencing the same sensations with regard to Jesus’ words and behavior in this passage.  Not only do they feel startled, confused and frightened by what they cannot understand, they are probably also feeling vulnerable and helpless in their lack of understanding – just as a child would feel.  I’m imagining the emotional pain that Jesus must be feeling because of their circumstance, as well.

This reminds me of a time when my daughter was sick enough to be hospitalized.  She was 13 months old at the time.  She didn’t understand anything that was happening around her.  I knew fully well that she would not understand what I was telling her, but I still desperately attempted to explain, prepare and accompany her, as simply and as well as I could, through what was a very frightening time for both of us.  She was startled, confused and frightened by her circumstance.  She was vulnerable and helpless to change her circumstance.  I felt deeply heartbroken for her.  I felt helpless in my desire to prepare her not only for what she was experiencing, but for what was yet to come, as well.

We humans like to know and understand.  We like the sense of security and control that we derive from believing that we understand.  We live under the false idea that we actually can understand.  We live under the fear and expectation that we should understand.  But like all children everywhere, we are limited in our ability to understand the simplest of things that occur within us and all around us every day.  We are ashamed of our limitations, and we try to hide them from God, ourselves and others.  But that’s not how God sees us. 

This is the heart that God has for his children, that Jesus has for his followers, that the Holy Spirit has for those she inhabits and guides.  The Holy Trinity knows full well that we mere mortals don’t and can’t understand the things of heaven – things that are far beyond us humans in every way possible.  We can never be old enough, smart enough, prayed up enough, mature enough to be more than what we are, more than what God created us to be.  Our creator knows our limitations and our creator delights in us just as we are.  And when life brings hard things our way, our creator expects and requires much less from us than we expect and require of ourselves – because our creator knows what we do not and cannot know.  Our creator views us as what we really are – his children: beautiful, delightful, vulnerable and very, very dear. 

Thank you, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, for loving me so much!  Thank you for caring so deeply for me in all of the various limitations and maturity levels that I demonstrate from day to day!  Thank you for viewing me as your very precious child!

Amen!       

scattering

by hovering love

“As he was scattering the seed, . . . “   Mt. 13:4 (NIV)

“ . . . what was sown in their heart.”  Mt. 13:19 (NIV)

Jesus tells a parable about a farmer who scatters seeds.  As I listen, I’m perturbed by how haphazard it sounds:  scattering seed in such a careless manner that it goes all over the place – in the road, in the gravel, in the weeds, and then finally in the plowed soil where I would expect that it’s intended to be.  This approach seems so foolish to me.  And yet, this is how Jesus appears to perform his work, scattering his stories to every person in every place in such a relaxed manner that it appears haphazard to my earthly eye.  However, his modus operandi seems to accomplish what Jesus intends from it.  Perhaps his relaxed, careless style attracted exactly the people that he wanted to reach.  But to my earthly thinking, I can’t help but doubt the efficiency of such an approach.

As I ponder this further, I suppose that the movement of the Holy Spirit will appear to be careless or haphazard as it comes and goes, as well.  Its movement is so subtle that it seems to be inefficient:  what if it’s so subtle that no one even notices?  Will there be any response at all? And yet, the Holy Spirit does the work that’s been assigned by the Father, whether we humans notice and respond or not.  Again, this M.O. seems so careless and inefficient to me.  I find myself wondering just how alert to and aware of the slightest movement of the Holy Spirit am I?  As I ponder this, I hear God say: 

      “Always be alert to my movement – especially in places and at times that would seem to be the very last place and time that you’d expect me to be.”

I’m chagrined to admit that this probably applies to seed that ends up on the road, in the gravel and in the weeds.  God’s kingdom (and M.O.) are such a mystery to me.  It’s so foreign to my earthbound perspective and expectation!  On earth, so much of life is ruled by a fear of scarcity:  seeds are precious, the provision for our life, and they must not be handled carelessly or wasted.  God’s kingdom always seems to be upside down and, in every manner, sideways to me.

“Whenever someone has a ready heart for this, the insights and understandings flow freely.  But if there is no readiness, any trace of receptivity soon disappears.  That’s why I tell stories:  to create readiness, to nudge the people toward receptive insight.”  Mt. 13:12 (The Message)

As this Scripture passage continues, Jesus explains the meaning of this parable to his disciples.  As I read on, something begins to click within me.  It’s all about the heart!  What remains on the surface only (the road) doesn’t enter the heart.  What is only a show of emotion (the gravel) doesn’t enter the heart.  Even when seed enters the heart, but the heart is then strangled (the weeds), there’s nothing good to show for it.  But when the seed enters the heart unaccompanied by any form of hinderance (good soil), an amount of fruit develops from that heart that goes beyond anyone’s wildest dreams.  It’s all about the heart!  I can imagine Jesus is chuckling as I hear him say:

      “When I scatter seeds, I’m not being haphazard, inefficient or foolish – I’m being generous.  My generosity demonstrates my love and grace by enabling all kinds and conditions of hearts to receive what they are able to receive.  Granted, some of the love and grace that I sow may appear to be wasted to earthly eyes, but I’m willing to take that risk if it means that some of the seed might actually work its way down into the heart. Besides, I possess a never-ending supply of these seeds.  Remember that!”

Thank you, Jesus, for your generosity.  Please help me to have an open, teachable and humble heart before you so your seeds of love and grace can produce an amount of fruit within my heart and through my life that goes far beyond my wildest dreams.  Amen!

twisted

by hovering love

“They put a purple robe on him, then twisted together a crown of thorns and set it on him.” Mark 15:17 (NIV)

“A certain man from Cyrene, Simon, the father of Alexander and Rufus, was passing by on his way in from the country, and they forced him to carry the cross.”  Mark 15:21 (NIV)

Simon is carrying the cross for Jesus, and Jesus will carry Simon’s sins while on that cross.  I’m struck by the beauty, cruel as it is, of the symbiosis between Simon and Jesus in this scene.  Swirling, tornadic beauty that both men are now swept up together in — even “twisted together” in as the crown of thorns was twisted together, but this twisting together is not one of mockery but of shared life and love.  I feel inspired by this beauty, this life and love.  I am in awe.

Thank you, Holy Father, for your beauty and love — for the many ways that you take the worst of humanity and turn it into the very best.  Only you can do that.  I am amazed by you, in awe of you and thankful for how you reveal yourself to me when I need it most.  I’m so grateful that you are good to me and to all that you’ve created.

Amen!

enough

by hovering love

“Jesus said, ‘For a brief time still, the light is among you.  Walk by the light you have so darkness doesn’t destroy you.  If you walk in darkness, you don’t know where you’re going.’”  John 12:35 (The Message)

I am drawn to the phrase “Walk by the light you have so darkness doesn’t destroy you.”  (My own italics added)  It seems filled with deeper insights for me; truths that I have experienced along the way.  This is truth:  God gives me enough “light” to see and walk by each day, but sometimes it’s not enough to satisfy my desire or make me feel comfortable or secure.  God won’t always give me the amount of light (insight and/or understanding) that my ego desires.  I may long for more light than what I possess, but I don’t actually need more to walk by faith.  Having the amount of light I want often tempts me to feel safe and secure in what I know — not in who I know (God).  Insisting, or obsessing, upon obtaining more light than what I have can easily lead me down an even darker path, destroying what tenuous amount of inner peace I do possess.  If I chose to fully appreciate and embrace the light that God provides, believing it to be more than enough (even though I feel inadequate with it), then the darkness won’t be able to destroy my faith or inner peace.  I can continue to trust in God, even when I feel lost, perplexed, abandoned or devastated by my circumstances.  When I am in a dark place (you’ll notice that I said “when”, not “if”), I can trust God to provide the light that I actually need not only to survive, but to thrive as well.  

Thank you, Father, for light in dark places that is enough.

Amen! 

lament

by hovering love

Dear Lord, Abba Father, you have healed many wounds in my heart, soul and spirit through the years, the decades.  I know that you have seen needs and wounds that I could not look at, and you have gently debrided and cleansed and healed them all.  Thank you.

But now my body is failing me simply because I am growing old.  Lord Jesus, you who never felt the ravages of old age, how can you empathize with me now?  You suffered horrible wounds, but they passed from you quickly, in a matter of hours, through the coming of your death.  My pain lingers on, year after year after year, and grows worse with each passing day.  In what way have you gone before me, to lead me through my physical decline?

I am your humble follower, human in every way.  Forgive me of my sins, my doubts, my grumbling and my lack of deep trust and reliance upon you.

I do not ask that you heal me of this degenerative disease.  I know that it is a reasonable companion — evidence that you have sustained and blessed me with long life so far.  But I do ask that you would use my suffering to make me more and more like Christ — fully human and yet divine, a bearer and sharer of your mercy, love and grace.  Nothing more fully embodies despair than to suffer in vain, for no purpose or gain.  Let my suffering produce transformation within my heart, spirit and soul — transformation that fills me to overflowing; an overflow of love, compassion and grace that impacts everyone around me.  Give me strength and courage to suffer well.

“You are my precious child always, regardless of your earthly age.  I will be with you.  I will walk through this with you.  I will produce the very nature of Christ within you through your pain.”

Thank you for your generous mercy and grace.  Thank you for the depth of your love for me — deeper than the deepest depth that I can imagine.  Thank you for bringing me into union with you through the vehicle of my earthly physical pain.

Amen!

 

testing

by hovering love

“Afterward, the Holy Spirit led Jesus into the lonely wilderness in order to reveal his strength against the accuser by going through the ordeal of testing.”  Matthew 4:1 (TPT)

Jesus had just spent 40 days in a desert wilderness where he’d experienced total isolation from all human interaction, food, water, creature comforts, safety, etc.  It’s not surprising when Scripture says that at the end of this time, Jesus was extremely hungry.  And if that wasn’t horrible enough, this isolation (and deprivation) was followed by Satan’s attempts to manipulate and use Jesus for his own purposes and pleasures.  He swooped in during Jesus’ vulnerable condition with three “offers” that both questioned Jesus’ identity and his ability to live up to his identity.  As he goaded Jesus towards falling into his traps, Satan’s disrespect and loathing for Jesus were apparent.  However, Jesus didn’t succumb to the goading.  He turned Satan’s yearning attempts for power into a demonstration of his own real power.  I can only imagine how jealous Satan must have felt, as well as, humiliated and furious!

My question in all of this is, “Why?”  Why was it necessary for Jesus to experience these traumas in the first place, let alone for what must have felt like an unending amount of time.  I find the answer in The Passion Translation of the above verse: “in order to reveal his strength against the accuser”.  The purpose of this testing was to reveal to Jesus the power that already dwelt within him; what it was, how it felt, and how to draw upon and use it properly and appropriately at all times.  Jesus needed to know these things before he could really begin to do the work that he’d been sent to do.  This horrible test was not only a preparation, but also a purification for his role as Messiah.  We’ve all heard that absolute power corrupts absolutely, and the man Jesus could have fallen prey to this truth just the same as the rest of us.  I have no doubt that Jesus could have zapped Satan right then and there; he may have even done so had Satan accosted him prior to experiencing this test.  Satan was (and still is) a master manipulator, and Jesus needed the knowledge and confidence that this experience would provide — knowledge and confidence in his ability to beat Satan at his games while always remaining true to himself, to his nature and to his desired purposes.  He had to know how to wield power with love.

This kind of testing is common to all of humanity.  I’ve experienced many tests of this kind — hard, dark times that felt as if they would never end.  As I look back over these times now, I can see that the answer to my question of “Why?” is no different.  Each experience has revealed more of my true nature to me, and shown me the real choices that I have before me.  I’ve been given the opportunity to observe and acknowledge the pitfalls of my faults (and neuroses) and to explore new ways of thinking, feeling, and responding to the life that I was living.  I’ve been given the time to see what needs to change in order for me to have the new life that I long to live.  I’ve also had my strengths and inward beauty revealed to me as things that I can draw upon and use to serve myself and others well.  It truly sucks that this kind of growth and refinement only seem to come as a result of leaning into and embracing times of isolation, deprivation and pain, but that does seem to be the case.  These horrible tests have always had a purpose that is good, for myself and for everyone around me, because they have moved me closer and closer to the purest form of my true self — the only self that can glorify God.

Perhaps our current pandemic situation finds you experiencing a similar time of testing.  It has been so for me.  As I continue to wait for the pandemic to end, I hear God say to me:  “Welcome this test and take it seriously.  Much change for the good can come from it, for you and for all of humanity.  Embrace this test as a friend, and trust me to bring you one step closer to all that you are meant to be in my love.”

Amen!      

dimensions

by hovering love

“Then Jesus looked him in the eyes and said, ‘Go back home now.  I promise you, your son will live and not die.’  The man believed in his heart the words of Jesus and set off for home.”  John 4:50 (TPT)

A frantic father asks Jesus to heal his dying son.  Jesus puts him off with, “Unless you people are dazzled by a miracle, you refuse to believe.” (John 4:48)  That sounds like an incredibly harsh response to me.  Was this father truly wanting only to be titillated by a fantastic miracle, or was he desperately wanting to save his son’s life?  As a parent, I’m guessing the latter to be true.  Why would it be wrong for the father to come to Jesus for help?  I confess that I find Jesus’ initial response to be frustrating, but his second response gives the father an opportunity to reveal what faith he does or does not possess.  When Jesus assures the father that his son will live, the father chooses to take Jesus at his word and believe it.  Then he acts upon what he believes by heading home without seeing any proof that what Jesus has said is true.  To the father’s delight, he is met along the road by one of his servants telling him that his son’s illness broke the day before at the very hour that Jesus said that he would live.  Unbounded relief and joy at his son’s return to health aside, this father must also have felt the sense of satisfaction that comes from proving your faith:  to Jesus, to yourself, and to others.  This story ends by telling us that the father’s entire household also believed in Jesus as a result of the father’s retelling of his own faith journey the day before.

Sometimes we believe within our mind, but it hasn’t yet worked its way down into our heart.  Perhaps that was the case with this father – when he approached Jesus with his request, he believed in his mind that Jesus could heal his son.  Jesus’ first response may have been meant to take this man even deeper in the belief that he already possessed.  It must have worked because after looking in Jesus’ eyes and hearing Jesus’ words of assurance, the father believed in his heart as well as in his mind.  As a result, many miracles occurred that day:  the healing of the son, the deepening of the father’s faith, and the beginning of each member of his household’s believing faith in Jesus.  No wonder the father was overjoyed!

There are so many levels, so many dimensions to our faith, our life and our being.  Miracles are never one-dimensional; they are always multi-dimensional.  Don’t just look for one miracle, look for and expect multiple miracles within what appears to be just one.

I hear God say to me, “I, the LORD, am multi-dimensional, and I work in ALL dimensions at once!”

Amen!

 

 

defense

by hovering love

“I can’t do a solitary thing on my own: I listen, then I decide.  You can trust my decision because I’m not out to get my own way but only to carry out orders.” John 5:30 (The Message)

“But my purpose is not to get your vote, and not to appeal to mere human testimony.  I’m speaking to you this way so that you will be saved.” John 5:34 (The Message)

 

The religious leaders are hounding Jesus again for proof of his credentials or authority to do the things that he’s doing.  In this passage, Jesus responds with a defense of himself (John 5:17).  I’m struck by the fact that Jesus defends himself in this situation and chooses not to defend himself later at the time of his death.  I can see from Jesus’ example that there is a time to defend yourself, and there is a time to stand silent before your accusers – but what criteria distinguishes the one time from the other?  Where does this defense come from within Jesus’ heart?  What is his inner motivation?

At this specific moment in time, Jesus is defending himself in this way so that his listeners will be saved.  His defense offers them information that is meant to enable them to believe who he is and find life in him.  How often do I defend myself for the purpose of “saving others”?  The honest answer to that question is: “NEVER”.  Defensiveness is usually a behavior that has a negative connotation – and for very good reason.  But Jesus’ “defensiveness” cannot be described as being negative; it’s actually quite selfless in nature and in purpose.  His defensiveness comes from a heart of love and concern for others.  My defensiveness is always selfish, self-serving and self-preserving.  I find Jesus’ brand of defensiveness to be very impressive, indeed!

As I sit with these insights a while, I hear God instruct me regarding the criteria that I am to follow:  if I sense that God is leading me to open my mouth and speak in my own defense, then I can trust God to give me the correct words that will enhance the life of my listener; but if, however, my defense will not benefit others in any way, then I need to keep my mouth shut and leave my defense in the capable hands of God.  How else can I follow Jesus’ example?  It’s as simple as that.