Tag: encouragement

stretch

by hovering love

“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

by hovering love

“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

by hovering love

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

by hovering love

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.

empathy

by hovering love

“he withdrew by boat privately to a solitary place” (Matthew 14:13)

“he had compassion on them and healed their sick” (Matthew 14:14)

Jesus had just heard the news of John the Baptist’s death, of how he was beheaded by King Herod and his head was then presented to Herod’s niece/step-daughter during the course of a wild dinner party—all done simply to enable Herod to save face before his guests. Jesus was deep in grief over the tragic and very traumatic loss of John, his relative and ministry fore-runner, and he desperately desired to spend some time alone, quietly embracing and processing his grief. But crowds of people observed his departure and followed him on foot, meeting him when his boat came ashore in a remote part of the coastline. Jesus saw the crowd of people approaching and he realized that his plan to care for himself and his grief was not going to happen, at least not at that time. His response to this situation is both stunning and awe-inspiring to me. I might have felt angry and put out, overwhelmed and empty of anything good worth giving to others in need. “How can I be expected or even asked to take care of others and their needs when all I want to do is curl up in the fetal position and lick my own wounds? It’s just too much!” might have been foremost in my thoughts at that moment. Not Jesus; he saw them coming and he “had compassion on them and healed their sick”. Some might make the excuse that Jesus was able to respond this way because he was God, possessing super-natural abilities beyond the tendencies and capabilities of humanity, but I don’t think that’s the case. “How could Jesus respond with such selflessness?” is a good question, one worth looking inside of my own heart and soul for the answer.

I believe that Jesus’ compassion for the loss and pain of others and his willingness to care for their needs came out of the depths of his own personal, present loss and pain. The source of his compassion was not their needs, but the very depth of his own need for soul care and healing. Jesus demonstrates much more than compassion. His suffering related to the reality and experience of their suffering—person to person—and the result was human empathy in action. Empathy inspired and motivated Jesus to minister to their needs; he didn’t just sympathize with their pain, he felt it as well and his heart went out to them. Jesus’ own need for care held great value—it made him truly empathetic towards the need for care in others.

What value does the pain, loss, suffering and grief that we all experience in life have? These experiences can burden our spirit and souls to the point of bitterness, despair and death if not expressed and shared with others who can extend the grace and care needed to see us through to a better end. Suffering has value and the power to produce goodness within us, if we let it. It can make us more forgiving, caring, kind, understanding, gracious, humble and brave—both for ourselves and others. It can make us more human in the very best sense and demonstration of the word.

I sense an invitation from Jesus in this story: “Don’t deny or hide from suffering, let it do its work and allow that work to be good, for your own benefit and for the benefit of others that I will lead along your path.” As I have opened up my suffering to God and the gentle care of the Holy Spirit, I have found there is always a reason and purpose in my experiences of suffering. When I have suffered, God has often led another person along my path later on who was suffering as well. The care that I received from God in my suffering could then be expressed through me to the other in need of similar care. My desire is to let suffering perform its good work within me so I’ll be open and prepared to allow God to care for others through me when the opportunity presents itself. No gift, blessing or suffering in life is for me alone—all is given and received for the purpose of being shared with others, as well. That’s what it means to be truly human.

coffee

by hovering love

“You are from below; I am from above. You are of this world; I am not of this world.” (John 8:23)

To use a metaphor, the Bible is like a beautiful letter sent by God to introduce himself and to develop a relationship with all of mankind. Repeatedly expressed within the words of this letter is the following message, “By the way, I’m at the corner coffee shop each day from 6:00am to 10:00pm. I’d love to share some conversation and/or amiable silence with you anytime throughout the day. I have special insights for you about your experience of this day and how I want to share in each moment of it with you. I would be so pleased if you spend some time with me.”

Jesus, himself, spent much time in quiet conversation alone with his Father. Even though Jesus knew the “letter” by heart, he also knew that he needed to listen to what the Father had to say to him each day, moment by moment. Jesus knew that he could not live through each day in a way that would please his Father without being fully aware and attentive to his Father’s voice throughout the day. If this is true for Jesus, how can it not also be true for Jesus’ followers? Sadly enough, this isn’t often the practice of those who claim to follow Jesus. Many Christians (myself included) focus our attention and motivations in life upon the Bible’s words alone without ever going to the coffee shop to actually meet with the Author in person and spend time in quiet, intimate dialogue with him. We work hard to familiarize ourselves with these words, scrutinizing and memorizing their locations and definitive interpretations, without allowing ourselves to become equally familiar and intimate with the One who sent these words to us in the first place.

Jesus is coming from a completely different place than I do: physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually. I am earthly and earthbound; Jesus’ living experience and perspective are far beyond my horizons. I long to know and experience Jesus’ life and perspective but my horizons are too low and small. I fear what is beyond my very limited and limiting horizons, but if that’s where Jesus lives and is taking me, then I want to go. Reading and treasuring the words of the “letter” are helpful, but I can’t share in Jesus’ life and experience if I don’t share in his practice of listening for the Father’s voice and direction each moment of each day.

So how will I go through my day today? Will I just “read the letter”, or will I intentionally meet with him for coffee and personal, intimate interaction throughout the day? How mindful and aware will I be of God’s presence with me today? Will I even hear him as he shares his loving insights and desires for me today? Will I take the time to please God by being attentive to his voice in my ear today?

I have a sense that Jesus is speaking to me now. He’s saying, “Don’t let my letter replace me as God. Respect and honor my letter, but follow me! I am the way, the truth and the life – not my letter!”

blendering

by hovering love

Psalms 34:8  “Open your mouth and taste, open your eyes and see—how good God is. Blessed are you who run to him.” (The Message)

I was chatting with a friend one morning and we came up with the idea that life is something that we “blender through”. Let me explain. Life is always throwing something new into the mix, kind of like a person who likes to indiscriminately experiment with their morning smoothie. For example, when you finally get to go on a long-awaited special vacation and while you’re there your body seems intent upon developing a sinus infection.

By the way, I like to try new things but I’m not an indiscriminate experimenter – I have a fondness for knowing that what comes out of the blender in the end will not only be edible, it will actually be tasty and definitely NOT disgustingly foul. I also don’t want anyone to throw anything into the blender without my foreknowledge and approval, only to find out later that something new has been added to the mix but I don’t know what it is. That kind of “not knowing” can be very irritating where smoothies are concerned and highly anxiety producing in other more important areas of life. However, this is what life does to us on an uncomfortably regular basis. And the best that we can do is “blender through”. But what does that look like when you’re on vacation and fighting off a sinus infection instead of having a good time?

Fortunately for me, another friend had given me some of her peppermint oil beadlets, which I had absent-mindedly stashed in my purse. She had said they were great for sinus problems and anti-bacterial in nature, so I decided to give them a try. Not only did they help to keep my sinuses clear, they also did a good job of fighting off the bacteria that was copulating madly in an effort to make me really sick. I’m not sure how many months the beadlets had been sitting in my purse, unused and forgotten. I’m just thankful they were there when I finally remembered them and was desperate enough to take the risk to give them a try. I became aware of the value of my friend’s thoughtful and generous gift, which was greatly appreciated, and I experienced her loving gesture just when I needed it most.

In addition, the fact that my body was fighting off this illness drove home the point that I was on vacation for a reason: to vacate my everyday life, relax, get some good rest and slow my pace to an amiable stroll. Because of and in spite of my illness, I had a great vacation that I thoroughly enjoyed!

Oddly enough and here again, my unwanted illness and my friend’s caring gift were two more examples of how Love hovers over my soul. Awareness of this truth can be difficult at times, especially when the swirl of the “blender” is fast and loud. But this awareness is possible if I’m paying attention and I’m willing to taste it and see it for what it is.