child

“Unless you accept God’s kingdom in the simplicity of a child, you’ll never get in.” Luke 18:17 (The Message)

If a child is going to hold tight to something, it will be to the one who cares for them: a parent, grandparent or guardian. There is only one exception, or perhaps addition, that I’ve seen to that truth: their “security” item (a blanket, stuffed animal or toy, etc.). But even then, a child usually has only one security item, not “mansions” filled with items like adults will endeavor to have. A child’s trust and security seems to be very simple and focused, for example: “my mommy and my blanket”. That’s all that’s really needed for a child to be happy and content, to feel safe and secure, and for them to rest and be at peace. Situations of extreme poverty can cause this not to be essentially true, and some parents who are currently in the trenches of raising their children may beg to differ with me as well, but as I look back over my years in those trenches, I recognize that a large part of what a child really needs is one loving, caring relationship and one treasured item. These “possessions” can provide comfort and stability for children, even when their situation is less than favorable. As I ponder this reality, I can’t help but ask myself, “What one relationship and one item can provide the same for me?”

I recognize a longing within myself for the freedom to be a simple child who lives a simple life consisting of one relationship and one item of comfort and familiarity. But living this simple lifestyle would require that I let go of the many things that I have acquired as an adult. I fear the real and imagined loss of “selling all that I have, giving to the poor and following Jesus”. How could this even be possible for me to do; after all, I have a spouse and a house filled with items and the decision to keep or dispose of these items is not up to me to make alone. Now I not only feel longing and fear, but I’m beginning to feel a bit trapped as well! Like Jesus’ disciples, I find myself wondering what must I do to be saved from my dilemma!

In the midst of my silent listening, I hear God say this to me.

Doing is a trap, a trap that you can’t escape on your own. You must have help—from others and from God—to escape the trap’s “teeth” or grip. The process of getting rid of your item-filled house must be one that you walk through with your spouse. The “community” aspect of this process is your teacher and guide—be attentive and learn from it. In your own childhood, you grew up as an only child never knowing the irritations or the joys of having and being a sibling. As an adult, you have been the mother who has raised offspring to adulthood, often marveling and being mystified by the sibling interactions that you’ve witnessed among your children—the comforting familiarities as well as the oppressive pitfalls. As I now “grow you back down” to the simplicity of a child, your life in community with your spouse (and others) gives you the opportunity to experience life as a sibling, as co-heirs with each other and with Jesus before God, the Father. This is not something that you do. It’s something that you are. Be who you are. Be my darling child who clings to my neck for dear life, not ever letting go. Cling tightly, also, to your “security blanket”: my Holy Spirit. She alone will provide you with the comforting sense of familiarity, security, love and peace that you need to face the ups and downs of life as my child. Focus your attention on my Spirit and trust in me as your “Abba” (“Daddy”), and you will be the child that you long to be. I guarantee it!”

With tears on my cheeks and from the depths of my heart, I thank you, Abba, for the privilege and joy of being your child!

 

 

 

 

still

I was recently having lunch with a friend who asked me, “How did you acquire the peace that you have? What book did you read? What spiritual discipline did you practice?” My immediate thought was, “Wow! That’s a very good question!” After several minutes of reflection, an answer entered my thoughts.

How does one acquire peace? The answer is quite simple. First, you sit quiet and still, doing nothing, for a long enough period of time that you finally begin to hear what God is saying to you about you. Then, you continue to sit quiet and still as you slowly unpack and process what God is saying to you about you. This is followed by more sitting quiet and still as you wrestle and come to terms with what God is saying to you about you. At this point, you sit quiet and still as you slowly detach from and let go of all that God is saying to you about you. More sitting quiet and still occurs as you embrace and develop an acceptance of this entire process. And then one day as you are sitting quiet and still, you begin to recognize that something is different about you (don’t be surprised if this new awareness results from having someone share that you seem different to them); that you possess a sense of peace that you’ve never had before. You can’t seem to remember how many years have passed as you sat quiet and still, doing nothing, but you are grateful for these many years just the same because of how they have developed and deepened your heart and soul. You are keenly aware that what you have “done” (as you sat quiet and still, doing nothing) has been rather hard work. Indeed, it is a Herculean task for humans to sit quiet and still, doing nothing, as they listen and unpack and process and wrestle and come to terms with and detach from and let go of and embrace and accept. This gift of peace that God has graciously and generously given to you (for it truly is a gift) has been very “hard-earned” for you. It is, in fact, the hardest-earned gift that you will ever be given and receive. In addition to giving you peace, it will also fill your mind, heart, body and soul with a deep life and love and joy. And then what do you do? You sit quiet and still, listening to hear what God is saying to you about how he wants you to express and demonstrate your gift of peace with everyone who comes across your path today . . . and everyday.

autumn

 

Atchison, KS – Version 2

My first sight of this photo makes me feel happy and alive. Autumn is here! My birthday, fabulous leaf colors, sunny yet cool days, crisp nights and mornings—all join together to make autumn my favorite season. Though autumn always signifies the end of summer (fruitfulness) and the approach of winter (dormant hibernation), autumn always seems to be brimming with life to me. As leaves change color and fall, I feel a burst of life and beauty—like a last hoorah, a party of beauty before we close our eyes for a cozy winter nap. Autumn is a time for rest from our “labors of fruitfulness” and a time to enjoy the “fruits of our labors”. It’s like a vacation or a retreat. Which reminds me, I’m going to an abbey near my home this weekend for a retreat—at time to rest, regroup, recharge and enjoy. This retreat is my birthday gift to me and I expect to find God there, too!

Pondering this photo, I become aware of how I’ve been feeling lately. As my favorite season has been approaching, my usual aches and pains, joined by the typical losses that we all experience as we age, have slowed me down and stolen my “joie de vie”. I’m not all that old, but I’m not all that young anymore either. I’ve definitely been feeling old, but this photo and what it represents to me makes me feel beautiful and alive—even as the leaves turn brown and fall off of me.

As I meditate on what God has to say to me through this photo, I hear him say . . .

“You are in the autumn of your life, and many things are changing, dying and being lost. But beauty and life are still there, because I am still there with you. You may no longer be the one “bearing fruit”, but that is good. You’ve had your turn to bear fruit; now you’re allowing me to have my turn to bear fruit in and through you. Brown, falling leaves may signify death and loss to you, but I use even your deaths and losses to spread my love abroad to all around you. Remember always—nothing is ever lost or wasted with me. My life is vibrant within you and always will be as long as you allow my life and love to flourish within you. Enjoy your retreat—I’ll see you there!”

quibble

“They were surprised and impressed—his teaching was so forthright, so confident, so authoritative, not the quibbling and quoting they were used to.”  Luke 4:32 (Message)

Quibble is rather a fun-sounding word, even if its meaning isn’t.  If all the other religious teachers in Jesus’ time “quibbled”—arguing, complaining, nitpicking over unimportant details, quoting other “authorities” to support their own points and ideas (I think today we might call that “name dropping”)—then Jesus’ approach of authenticity (speaking from what he knows to be true in his life and being) would be very refreshing indeed!  What a pleasant relief it must have been to hear Jesus teach!

Since not quibbling worked so well for Jesus, I can’t help but wonder why so many Christians today engage in it?  Nitpicking over nonessential doctrines and unimportant details only leads to division and disunity.  Arguing and complaining are simply symptoms of ego and pride, not humble self-sacrifice.  Validating your words by quoting popular or well-promoted Christian pastors and/or authors is frequently done to impress, and reveals a lack of true ownership for your own spirituality.  These words of mine may sound harsh, but are they untrue?      

Jesus knew who he was and how he was called by God.  He intentionally lived into his identity and his calling, trusting in the guidance and support that he received from the Father and the Holy Spirit.  Jesus possessed authority that had been given to him by his Father.  In addition, his authenticity regarding his true being and how he lived that out in his daily life naturally lended even more authority to his actions and teachings.  As Jesus’ followers, we have all received our own unique identity and calling from the Father.  The question is, are we choosing to waste precious time and energy quibbling or are we trusting our identity and calling in Christ and intentionally living into it?  As I ponder this question for myself, I hear Jesus say the following to me:     

“My sister and friend, I have planted my truth within you and it has grown.  There is more for you to learn, but you can be confident and authentic regarding what you have already received from me.  Your authenticity is your authority!  Claim what you do know.  Boldly proclaim it with your words and through your actions.  I have placed my authority within you—share it with me as we use it to our Father’s glory.”

Do I hear an “Amen!”?

process

process: a natural phenomenon marked by gradual changes that lead toward a particular result. (Merriam-Webster Dictionary)

Faith is a process.

When life is going the way we desire, we can find ourselves basking in the illusion that our faith is solid and true. But what happens to our faith when harsh realities of life turn our basking into wailing and shatters our illusions all to hell? I don’t know about you, but when that happens to me I tend to get rather emotional. When a person professes to place their faith and trust in a God who is always good and gracious, what do we do with our emotions at a time like that?

How do I react when I’m feeling confused and disappointed by God? Anger is a natural first reaction in times of disappointment, confusion, frustration or loss. My second emotion speaks up very quickly and often accompanies the anger—hurt. As old as I am (and I’m certainly old enough, indeed), I am still caught off guard by the things in life that elicit a reaction of anger and hurt. This pair of emotions expresses itself in the form of whining, complaining and self-justification, none of which help me (or anyone else!) in any way. It’s usually a bit of time before I get around to acknowledging that God’s ways aren’t my ways, nor are his desires and plans likely to always match up with mine (if ever). An even longer amount of time passes before I’m willing to accept and trust that God’s ways are good—even though I can’t see any of God’s good in my present situation at that moment.   Slowly, humble acceptance and contentment come as gifts as I wait to see what God is doing/will do. Humble because I come to terms with the fact that I’m not God, and I see and know very little (if anything at all). Anger is no match for humility; it cannot remain strong in the presence of a truly humbled heart. Gradually, even the hurt within me begins to diminish and heal, being transformed into contentment. Only then am I truly willing to wait—upon God’s timing, and God’s gracious plan for all involved. I guess this process is necessary to enable me to let go of whatever attachments caused me to feel confused, disappointed, angry and hurt in the first place.

Faith is a process, a never-ending process.

nothing

“So the chief priests made plans to kill Lazarus as well, for on account of him many of the Jews were going over to Jesus and putting their faith in him.” John 12:10, 11

Even though the Jewish leadership is plotting a double murder scenario (Jesus and Lazarus), their evil intent can’t stop or even dampen the overwhelming sense of awe, wonder and joy that surrounds Lazarus’ resurrection and Jesus’ entrance into Jerusalem for the Passover Festival. If there wasn’t so much joy and praise of God being expressed, this scene might resemble an out-of-control mob—but the praise and joy do prevail and energize this celebration.

My attention today turns to Lazarus. I don’t think I’ve ever noticed before that this large crowd formed for the purpose of seeing Lazarus, as well as Jesus. How humbling and exciting for him to be such a key player in this scene. Exciting because he gets to “share the stage” with someone that he worships and adores. Humbling because the reason for his being on that “stage” has absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with him! After all, the only thing that Lazarus did to bring himself to such prominence was to die and be buried for 4 days. Lazarus expended no energy at all. Jesus did all the rest, without the slightest response or cooperation on Lazarus’ part.

Sweet Lazarus! As I ponder this truth about his experience, I am reminded that the same is true of my life and being as well. Without me ever thinking a thought, feeling an emotion, speaking a word, performing an action or even being deliberate about an intention, God gives me the gift of being his daughter, and heavenly life to experience being a daughter of God in and through (even while I remain on earth)! I do nothing; indeed, there is nothing that I am capable of doing to bring this about or sustain and maintain it. It is truly all God’s doing.

Thank you, God, for your many gifts and graces to me. Just like Lazarus, may the life you give to me be attractive to others, causing them to draw near to you with open curiosity, joyous celebration, humble gratitude and heartfelt praise.

stretch

“He said this to stretch Phillip’s faith.” John 6:6 (The Message)

Jesus asks Phillip a question merely to get Phillip to think, to ponder from a faith perspective. His question is rhetorical, and its purpose is to stretch Phillip’s faith. Phillip doesn’t perceive the question as being rhetorical; he takes it quite literally and physically (after all, they are surrounded by hungry people). In response, he doesn’t stop to think or ponder or approach the question from a position of faith; he immediately moves into “fix it mode”, sees no available resources at hand and decides that a solution is impossible. It doesn’t appear that Phillip took the time or had the inclination to consider a response of faith at all. Perhaps that’s why Jesus was attempting to stretch it.

Andrew’s response to Jesus’ question is different. He listens to the question, looks around for what resources are available and he presents these small resources to Jesus, asking Jesus how these can help with such a large need. Andrew’s response is one of faith, though mixed with doubt. Like Phillip, Andrew is earthly and earthbound in his thinking and approach; he is looking for a result that will fix the problem, not a miracle that will demonstrate Jesus’ power and provision. To Andrew’s credit, he is more open to a faith response at this time than Phillip; he’s open to seeing what Jesus can do with the resources at hand—however small they may appear to be.

Both men are no doubt blown away by what Jesus does with practically nothing. Where Phillip saw only impossibility, Andrew saw an improbability, but was open to possibility. One’s mind was closed and limited; the other’s was open and limitless.

How often do I respond to Jesus’ “stretches” as Phillip did, looking only at what mankind has to offer and seeing it as inadequate, impossible? If it appears impossible (or I’ve decided that it is), then the human tendency is to give up, don’t waste anymore time trying—from an earthly perspective, it’s the only logical, reasonable, rational response. How often do I respond like Andrew, looking for what mankind has to offer and then placing it in Jesus’ hands to see what he’ll do with it? This option may appear highly improbable but it’s also open to whatever God may do, which encourages and produces hope, imagination and expectant anticipation.

My invitation from God is quite simply: “When I “stretch” you, take the time to wait—to ponder my question from a faith perspective, and to look for where I am and what I’m doing before you respond or react. This will enable you to be more open and available to the miraculous in everyday events. There is so much that I want to show you. Let me delight you with what I can do—this can only happen if you’re already open to it.”

choices

“This sorrow is crushing my life out.” Matthew 26:38 (The Message)

“There is a part of you that is eager, ready for anything in God. But there’s another part that’s as lazy as an old dog sleeping by the fire.” Matthew 26:41 (The Message)

There are times in life when our sorrow does suck the life out of us. Deeply demanding choices are before us. We don’t want to face them; in truth, we often feel that we don’t have what is needed to face them.   However, reality teaches that escape is not an option—whether we are intentional about choosing or we force life to make choices for us by default (by doing nothing), life choices are made and life directions are taken. The question is, how will we face our choices and make the decisions that must be made?

Jesus had an excruciating decision before him. He was fully human; his life on earth was very demanding but also very rich in purpose and relationships. For three years he had enjoyed the companionship of people whom he loved dearly and invested in deeply. Now the time had come for him to leave them, first temporarily and then for a much longer time than they could ever imagine. Now he must choose whether to please himself and those he loved or God, the Father. His choice was devastatingly hard because the ramifications were very real—not just for himself and those close to him, but for many others throughout time, as well. His sorrow was so great that it drove him to his knees before God, pleading for other options and the ability to face what lay before him. Jesus, the man, needed help and the Holy Spirit was there, enabling him to move from the desire to please himself to an openness and acceptance of the truth and reality that the Father’s way was the best way (the only way) and that surrendering himself was the only true choice that he could make.

Jesus had to be moved from loving and obeying his own desires to loving and obeying the Father’s plan—for the sake of loving all creation throughout time. It was a choice of obedience, yes—he had to surrender to God, the Father’s way. But the motivation was not obedience—that was the action. The motivation was LOVE—love for the Father (with all his heart, soul, mind and strength) and love for all of mankind (loving his neighbor as himself; therefore, surrendering his life so all could live). The Trinity’s “bottom line” is always LOVE.

My own choices in life have not born the same ramifications as Jesus’, but many have been devastatingly sorrowful for me just the same. Avoiding the hard work and letting life make the choices for me can be very tempting, but it ultimately deepens my sorrow and takes me down paths where I don’t want to go. In my sorrow, I have also been driven to my knees before God, pleading for other options and for the courage and strength to face what lay before me. Each time, the Holy Spirit has gently but firmly brought me to the Father’s “bottom line”. Love is the motivation of heart that I must be open to and accepting of, that I must be willing to surrender to, if I am to make the only true choices that I can make. Life choices can be hard, but help is always available to those who ask for it.  I don’t want to face living with choices that are made apart from LOVE.

tornado

From the year 2008 through 2009 I experienced some severe “pruning” via: the loss of my mother to cancer (this involved struggling through many issues not directly related to her illness, as well as the cancer itself), the tragic loss of my brother-in-law to a car accident (leaving a wife and 3 year old son), and the painful and perplexing loss of my part-time job and relationships I had there.  This was followed by the autumn of 2009, which brought some long-standing marriage-threatening struggles with my husband to a head (struggles that did not experience resolution for several years to come).

The autumn of 2010 is when the real “darkness” began (and I thought the previous years had been hell, itself).  As I search for a way to describe my experience, the image of a tornado comes to mind, a tornado at night.  All of a sudden I found myself in a swirling force, in total darkness and completely out of control of what was happening to me.  The “tornado” had scooped me up and I was swirling in the dark, being bumped and smacked by other things (painful things) swirling in the darkness with me.  I couldn’t see what was hitting me, but it hurt each time impact occurred.  In time (what felt like forever), the swirl spit me out into the center of the tornado, where I felt like I was in suspended animation—it was dark, but quiet and calm and I realized that I was actually breathing for the first time in “forever” (the pressure of the swirl inhibited breathing).  It felt odd, surreal and uncomfortable, but I was thankful to breath.  Then, without warning, I was sucked back into the swirl. The next time the swirl spit me into the center, I gulped a deep breath and let loose with rage at God.  “What the hell are you doing to me?  What have I done to deserve this?”  Etcetera. Again I was sucked into the swirl and again I was spit into the center—always in the dark, disoriented, furious, and afraid.  “What is happening to me?  Am I going insane?  God, why don’t you answer me?  Do you even know that I’m here?”

Today, eight years later, I realize that when the tornado first scooped me up I was at the bottom of the funnel where the space inside the swirl is extremely small, tight and cramped.  My times in the quiet center were short because the space was small and in close proximity to the force of the swirl—thus, sucking me back into the swirl quickly after I’d been spit into the center.  Time seemed to move at a glacial speed, but looking back I can sense that God was slowly moving me upward in the funnel.  The base was close, intense and very dark.  As I moved upward, the center seemed less constrained as the diameter of the funnel grew larger.  It was still dark and I still raged, but somehow it seemed more spacious.

At some point (I don’t know when), I stopped fighting the process.  I could almost see humor in my condition—how could I ever have believed that I could have any control over myself, or life?  “What the f@*# am I doing . . . fighting God?  As if that makes any sense at all!  Ok, God, I still don’t like what’s happening but it’s not like I’m going to beat you or even try—so . . . this is your mess, you do what you want with it!  You fix it!”

The swirl/center alternations continued, but my times in the center seemed ever so slightly longer and the dark didn’t seem as dark.  In what felt like a thousand years, I noticed that I could dimly discern the sizes and shapes of what swirled about with me.  Surprise, surprise—these things that had been hitting and hurting me were my own idols and attachments, my own issues, my false self!  They were swirling with me and I was helpless to let them go or hurl them from the tornado.  Back in the center, deep sighs came with the realization that God, Himself, would have to take care of them, because I couldn’t.  Like my attachments, I was simply “along for the ride”.

Slowly, my times in the center became times of acknowledgment and repentance.  The attachments remained in the swirl, but I was a bit better able to see and recognize them.  The swirl and the center continued to become less dark—there was light without being light, if that makes sense.  Or maybe God was just giving me better “night vision”. Whatever it was, it was God—not me—who was responsible.

There were moments in the center that lasted for months—blissful times of sweet, tender love from God.  Then, back into the swirl—but, being further up in the funnel causes the swirl to move more slowly and less intensely than at the base, and the dark doesn’t seem to be as noticeable or bothersome.

The swirl still isn’t pleasant or comfortable, but I’m more accepting and aware of the blessings it contains.  There is a contentment and peace that comes from knowing that God has chosen to put me in the Heaven-BoundTornado of His Love—his crazy, over-the-top love. How could the tornado ever have caused me pain, fear and rage?  It is because his love is fierce and terrifying, and it always will be.  His love will not be defeated or denied—ever.  I will remain in the tornado as long as he desires me to be here.  I marvel at his amazing, uncompromising love and devotion to me, to make me all that he intended for me to be since the beginning of time—one with him.  Thank you, Abba, for your crazy, over-the-top love for me.  Make me to be crazy, over-the-top in love with you, too.

As for my attachments, I have learned a few things from the tornado.  They feel quite big, but they are really quite small.  They may go all the way back to my time in my mother’s womb (even beyond, perhaps), but they aren’t who I am and they don’t define me. They don’t need to frustrate or defeat me, either.  If I see them as friends, they can help me to a deeper surrender and trust in God.  But they must be kept in their proper place—in Satan’s hands they are weapons of destruction, but in the Holy Spirit’s hands they are tools of instruction, redemption and transformation.

 

 

branches

Tree tops

moving to and fro together,

like laughing friends at a party or a bar . . . .

movement produced by the passing winds.

 

Tree tops

a community of branches laughing in the breeze;

sometimes chuckling,

sometimes a huge guffaw . . . .

moving together in all forms in between.

 

“You are a branch and I am The Vine;

           come,

                      laugh,

                                  move and live with Me!

                                                                      All My branches . . . . Come!!”

 

Sometimes the wind is so strong that the branches break;

they laughingly move and sway no longer, now they hang . . . . limp.

We don’t know why the wind does that; we only know that it does.

But brokenness doesn’t always bring death;

new leaves form,

even on broken ends.

Life and laughter begins again.

 

I have felt so broken, in so very many ways.

Show me the new leaves You are forming within me.

Cause them to grow,

and to move,

and to laugh,

and to live . . . . with You.