23 | Be(low). Be Humble.

It's Day 23 of this series: 31 Days to Be Still.  More and more, after my moments of stillness with God and with you, I wander off and roam the blogosphere.  I'm enjoying discovering other blogs participating in this challenge, to the point where exploring other series almost eclipses my own endeavor to be still.

And the more I read, the more I am humbled.  I'm discovering great writers. Amazing stories.  Soul stirring inspiration.  What on earth can I add to this online conversation that is unique?  How does my voice point people to God — to deeper relationship with God — in a way that doesn't duplicate or sadly shadow these other blogs and voices?

Humble?  Yes.  Helpful?  No.

This kind of I'm-not-worthy humility obliquely questions God's particular plan for me.  It undermines his power to work in me and through me.

Do you ever struggle with these insecurities?  This imposter syndrome of "How did I get here and when is someone going to figure out I don't belong?"

Today we're going to ditch this humble, fumbling internal monologue.  We're going to trade it for a better kind of humility.  A different kind of being low.  Not low on the totem pole, beneath other people, inferior.  This humility is being below God, in a servant stance, under his loving care and direction.  

iwilltrustinyou.org

He must increase, but I must decrease.  John 3:30

In order for God to make bigger and bolder and brighter changes in our lives, we must diminish our insecurities and our ambitions.  We must trust God to create a meaningful impact in our hearts and our lives.  We must recognize that his power and his vision are greater than our own.

lizzylee via Flickr.com

We need to admit that we don't know everything.  Like the lost and frustrated traveler on the highway of life, we need to pull over to the gas station, rest and refuel, and ask God to straighten out our course.  When we call out to God in our need for answers and directions, he can show us the mighty things we can't even begin to imagine.

asundayafternoon.com

Look at this list of imperfect heroes.  Consider what God achieved through each one of them.

We need to admit our faults, but not beat ourselves up for them.  God didn't make us perfect for a very important reason.  In our flaws, God can flow.  God takes our cracks and fissures and shines his brighter light through them.  His grace makes us whole, makes us better than we could ever be on our own.

This kind of reverential humility is the best freedom we can know.  All we need — all God needs from us — is to be still.

In this God-honoring humility, let's still our hearts and minds.  Let's slow down, breathe deep, and focus on his supreme will and way.

Lord,

You know I have a tendency to put pressure on myself, to compare myself with others, to end up feeling of inferior and insecure.  But you are never disappointed in me.  

As long as I keep my focus on you, you can take my deficiencies and use them to proclaim your proficiency.  As long as I recognize my limitations and turn to your limitless wisdom, you can show your perfect power through my imperfections.  Help me to dwell in this relaxed humility of holding you supreme.

So today I ask this: How I can help bring about your will, Lord?  I give you my stuttering voice, my laughing doubt, my inexperience and my mess.  I trust you to fill the gaps and cracks in my abilities.  

I am low.  Humble.  Flawed.  But I am not insecure.  Instead, I stand secure in knowing that you, in your power and wisdom, can lift me up to do your good work.  

When I lay myself low before you, Lord, when I release my doubts and anxieties and trust in your glory and might, that's when I can truly be still.

I need to repeat that, to print that on my heart.  When I rest below you in humble adoration, I. can. be. still.

I can wait, with patience, for you to complete a good work in me.  I can rest knowing you can take me the rest of the way.

Thank you for this reassurance, Lord, this rejuvenation that comes from humble stillness.  Thank you for taking worries and insecurities off my shoulders.  Thank you, most of all, for lifting me up from my low position with the promise of eternal life alongside you in heaven.

Amen

14 | Be Faithful

My apologies to those born after 1983.  The references in today's post to record players and old fashioned stereos will make very little sense unless you YouTube "prehistoric entertainment machines."  (Do you still YouTube?)  Consider it my invitation to get in touch with the older generation. ;') 

I don't know about you, but I typically feel pretty faithful.  Until I realize I'm not.

I'll be moseying along, doing my most-days Bible reading thing, praying here and there and everywhere, working on being still with God.  I'll be saying "show me the way, Lord," and "lead me to where you need me."  Checking all those spiritual practice and faith walk-the-talk boxes.

Then a project will stall.  An event will have a low turnout.  Or responses will be less than enthusiastic.

The soundtrack in my head plays that scritcccchheekkkccchk of the record player needle scratching over the vinyl.  

And, inevitably, because I'm flawed and human and slow, I look up at God and say, "What gives?  I thought you wanted this too?  What's up with this thing that feels like failure?"

Huh.  Not a lot of faith happening there.

In fact, I think that's pretty much what God must be saying when I pull that "What gives?" routine.

So, when I'm done pouting and picking holes in my efforts and questioning the whole purpose of what I was trying to do, I take a deep breath.  I just work on being still.  I twiddle the tuner buttons until I'm back on the God channel.  I rest and wait and listen until that feeling of failure fades to something that looks a lot more like faith.

I had to do exactly that today.  We had a spiritual practices open house of sorts in our church's chapel. Two hours for people enter into the stillness and enjoy some quiet meditation, some soft and spiritual music, and a little Lectio Divina.  Aside from a most gracious and talented musician and myself, one person stopped by.  

Now I had prayed about this and Facebook-ed and emailed about this, then I talked-it-up and prayed some more and added an extra layer of prayer, with whipped cream and a cherry on top.  I was pretty sure I covered all the bases.

So why just one person in the pews?

Is it because I didn't have enough faith?  Not even a mustard seed morsel?

everyday.Godinspires.me

Maybe it's because I expected a different mountain to move.  I wasn't looking in the right place for the action and the answered prayers.  My eyes were fixed on what was seen: empty pews.

imgfave.com

What God reminded me, through remembered words from last week's conversation with a colleague, was that some results are not seen.  If one or two people show up, that might look like a disappointing turnout.  But God brought those people exactly where they needed to be, and that is complete victory.  And those other people? The ones who didn't make it?  Perhaps they were exactly where they needed to be, doing a different kind of work for God.  And maybe, most likely, new traditions need time to build and grow and blossom.

Today in our chapel we created something beautiful: hushed stillness in the midst of a busy city.  Sunlight streaming through stained glass.  Grace-filled guitar notes and a beautiful voice, lifting up lyrics of praise and prayer.  I got to pray for two hours — about worries and work and next steps for our quiet chapel time — prayers that I definitely needed to lift up and let go.  And I got to listen, really listen for God in the music and the quiet and the creaking of old floorboards — which is what I needed even more.

john-whom-Jesus-loves.tumblr.com

I figure at least 99% of God's incredible work is unseen by human eyes.  I can't begin to comprehend how he works.  And I certainly don't understand his timing. That's where faith comes in.

When we don't get the answer we want or expect, faith helps us to be still.  It helps us to switch from our expectations to God's vision, from what is seen to what is unseen.  It builds a bridge from disappointment to hope to trust.  It gives us patience to wait and to just be still as God continues his work in us and around us.

Let's pause here a moment and pray for the stillness and patience that faithfulness can provide.

chattingatthesky.com

Lord,

You are so very faithful with me.  When my own faith wavers, you lead me to be still, to find strength in you.  When I am impatient and impudent, you hear me out and lead me to deeper understanding.  When I am near-sighted, you help me to see your vision.  When I am out of ideas, you bring new ones out of the uncertainty and into focus.  When I stop my planning and turn to praying, you always provide.

via Pinterest

Help me to be faithful as I follow you.  Help me to trust in my steps as I leave my current path and seek out your better way.  I know my steps will falter.  But I know more truly that you will carry me through my clumsy stumbles and falls.  Thank you for patching the holes in my faith, for making my trust whole.

Lord, switch my focus from the seen to the unseen, from the earthly measures to the heavenly motions.  Be my vision, my faith-filled vision.  Be my understanding.  Be my strength and patience and perseverance.  And when these gifts come slowly, help me to be still and wait for them to catch up with me and guide me.

For faith makes everything fall into place.  When my faith in you is strong, I have hope.  I have peace.  I have joy.  Thank you for these fruits of faith, Lord, for the fruit of your Holy Spirit.  Thank you for taking my hand, for leading me on, and for helping me stand firm in my faith.

Amen.



More motivation for when you need faith...

Lysa TerKeurst always inspires me when I falter.

9 | Be Forgiven

Do you like Jimmy John's?  I like Jimmy John's.  Here's my favorite thing about dining there.  (Ha!  I say "dining" like it's a fancy schmancy place.  But as long as I'm not cooking and cleaning, it does feel downright fancy schmancy.)

Jimmy John's has great signs.

Their signs are entertaining, educational, and great reminders about how to live a good life.  Take, for instance, this one about "proper apologies."

Wampa-One via flickr.com

I've used this three-part rule with my kiddo, my students, and even myself.  It's a little hard to read, so let me transcribe.

Proper Apologies Have Three Parts

1.  What I did was wrong.
2.  I feel badly that I hurt you.
3.  How can I make this better.

I love how this formula focuses not just on the mistake, but the ramifications and the restitution of the problem.

What does this have to do with stillness?  Good question.

I don't know about you, but sometimes when I'm having trouble being still before God, or when I'm plain old avoiding God, it's because I'm stuck on one of the three parts of apologizing for one of my many sins.  Have you ever seen a fidgety kid, caught in the act of true naughtiness, squirming to find some way out of the laser-like focus of a parent?  Yep.  It's hard to be still when we are confronted with our sin.

When I find myself shouldering a doozy of a mistake, squirming to get out from under its weight, I need to unload that shame.  I have to let it go at the foot of the cross, where Jesus died so that we might be saved from our sins.  Where God stands ready to take our mistakes, forgive them, and forget them, casting them to the opposite corner of the world.

"I, even I, am he who blots out your transgressions, for my own sake, and remembers your sins no more."  Isaiah 43:25

God not only forgives, he chooses to forget.  He removes our sins from us, placing it far, far away, “as far as the east is from the west” (Psalm 103:12).

Jesus paid for our sins once.  One-time payment with the all-time selfless, loving act of sacrifice.  We don't need to keep sacrificing, keep burdening ourselves with them. That just burdens our relationship with God.  All we need to do is offer up a proper apology.

So why do I hang on to my sins?  Why am I reluctant to embrace God's grace and forgiveness?  Why do I continue to squirm in shame? 

biblia.com

I wish I knew.  But what I do know is this: God will get me to true and lasting belief that my sins are forgiven and gone.

If I repent by 1) acknowledging my mistakes, 2) admitting to how they hurt God, others, and myself, and 3) turning back to God seeking his better way, then God promises complete and perfect forgiveness.  He clears the way for me to be made new in Christ.

So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new! 

2 Corinthians 5:17

I need signs to remind me of this, to break me out of my doubts about complete and permanent forgiveness.  So I can really let go and let God to a new thing in me.  So I created these over at canva.com and I'm using them as book marks, note paper, signs on the mirror, you name it.  If you like signs, too, feel free to click on the caption below your favorite image(s) for a link to a free printable.  You can't have too many reminders to embrace God's grace!

Fresh Start

Embrace God's Grace

Forgiven Forever!

2 Corinthians 5:17
image credit: Amy Westerman Photography

Will you please join me in this prayer of releasing our past mistakes for the forgiven stillness of the present?

Lord,  

You know the thoughts of my heart before I even voice them.  You know the sins I hang onto even though you've promised forgiveness.  

Help me to release this guilt, this shame, this clinging to the past.  Help me to embrace your grace-filled forgiveness, to feel comfortable being made shiny new and squeaky clean in your love, and to be open to the spacious room that makes in our relationship.  Where I harbor doubt and question my worth, remind me that your grace is not about what I've done or not done, but instead about your loving goodness toward me.  

I accept this free gift, no strings attached.  I cut the lingering cobwebby strands of my shame so I can walk, light and free, in your footsteps.  And I promise to hold dear the signs and reminders that I am forgiven and made new in Christ.

Amen.

6 | When Being Still is Hard

Let's be honest.  This being still stuff sounds easy.  But it's not.

Our world is wired to be on the move.  We've trained our brains to be multitaskers.  Sitting still gets a bad couch-potato rap. Being quiet sounds mousy and submissive.  No wonder making time for quiet reflection is a tough habit to build.

Let's re-frame this idea.  If you, like me, sometimes suffer from the bias that stillness is a passive, unproductive practice, take that tainted notion right out of the junk-drawer in your head and chuck in in the dumpster of limited thinking.

Did you do it?  I didn't hear the clanging ka-chunk.

There.  That's better.

club.coolamonrotary.com

Instead let's think of stillness like the pause a leopard takes before she springs into the hunt.  Like the brilliant mathematician's breath as the last pieces of the solution click into place.  Like the moment of anticipation before the surprise party explodes into existence.  Without the stillness, the conquest, the discovery, the celebration is at risk of never happening.

We need the stillness before God so he can do his deep soul-stirring in us.

Now perhaps this stillness is difficult for reasons beyond the psychological.

gogowomen.com

Perhaps you suffer from physical squirminess.  Some of my greatest moments of spiritual stillness come when I am running. The exertion and endorphins crowd out the clutter in my brain.  I can talk with God with greater freedom and focus.  Give yourself permission to find a mental and soulful place of stillness while your body is in motion.

Does silence suffocate you?  Some of us feel stifled without the stimulation of sound. Try some simple, melodic music as a soft background to your quiet time, something that will bring your thoughts back to God in an unobtrusive way.

Is your "To Do" list tugging at you?  Take a simple chore and perform it in a meditative manner.  Sometimes when I fold the laundry, I pray to God about those who wear the clothes.  I lift up our relationships and ask God to help me see where the stains are, to help me see what needs mending and refreshing.  Our physical tasks can be reminders of ways God wants to work in our lives.

When being still is hard, maybe you are trying too hard.  Try a different perspective. Try a different approach.  Try releasing the work from yourself and lifting it up to God.

winkal.com/share/religion

All we are asked to do is make the space for God to speak.  We do not have to do that perfectly or beautifully.  We do not have to get it right.  We just need to offer up the imperfect invitation for God to enter into our lives with his perfect Spirit.

But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness."  So, I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me.

2 Corinthians 12:9

Dear Lord,

Thank you for your grace.  Thank you for looking upon my difficulties being still with your understanding and forgiveness. Thank you for taking my weakness and filling it with your power and your peace.  

You know that I dearly want to be still and celebrate that you are my God.  When my brain and body and heart make it hard to slow down, to steep in your love, show me your better way.  Help me to make a sacred space for our relationship to grow, so that I may live as you intended, enjoying a life that is full and good.

Amen.



Looking for more inspiration to get through the hard parts?

Diedra Riggs writes about how God showed her he can "transform the everyday into a sacred encounter."

Everyday Tabernacles

Bonnie Gray, via Lysa TerKeurst's blog, writes "Why I'm Breaking Up with Quiet Time" and offers ways to reinvigorate the habit when being still starts to go sour.

Bonnie Gray

What do you do when Being Still is hard?  I'd love to hear your insights.

22 | Standing Firm with the Gift of Faith

Now it is God who makes both us and you stand firm in Christ.  He anointed us, set his seal of ownership on us, and put his Spirit in our hearts as a deposit, guaranteeing what is to come.

2 Corinthians 1:21 

Dear Lord,

My faith is a gift from you, and incredible blessing that has transformed my life.  Thank you for being faithful to me.  Thank you for the gift of your Holy Spirit, which enables me to be faithful in you.  Your guarantee of things to come brings me great joy and great peace.

This day, when dizzy swirls my head, my vision, I rest and relax in knowing I can stand firm in you.  You are my balance when life teeters.  You are my foundation with everything else slips.  Thank you for your constant presence, your continual love.

You show your love like this: anointing us with the forgiving waters of baptism, marking us clean to embark on a journey with you.  What loving touch, that sign of the cross that touches gentle, touches deep.  I feel your touch today, on my head, in my heart.  I am still, slow and present, against all odds.  Thank you for your tender touch that creates pause, that soothes what gnaws deep and haunting.  

You own us.  Not like we own stuff, expensive things of here and now that become obsolete trash tomorrow.  No.  You own your own forever.  Obsolete is not an issue.  You remake us, redeem us, reclaim us from the trash of today.  Lord, your permanent protection, your powerful parenthood gives me a peaceful place to rest.  I am grateful.

And then this gift of your Spirit.  This deposit, worth more than gold.  This guarantee of eternity with you.  I am not worthy.  But I am giddy with your gift.  Thank you for delighting in me, flawed yet faith-full, and for bringing me in close to your love.  

Amen

Good Enough?

I’m a perfectionist.  Not necessarily by choice, but by hard wiring.  Fancying myself as a DIY kind of gal, I’m trying to jigger those wires and fix the circuitry overload.  But it is a slow process.

Recently I saw something that echoed old arguments in my head and reframed my perfectionist perspective.

It was a classic God Nudge.  I almost missed the message.  It just looked so nice and clean in The Nester’s collection of 31 days blog topics.  My favorite colors.  Witty font.  And I skimmed on.

Then… whoa.  It sunk in.  And it’s been tickling my brain ever since.

Imperfection can be charming? 

Ergo: perfection… not so much?

Hmmmm.

We’re in the Parade of Homes season.  Every conversation seems to meander to some perfect and palatial house that someone has recently seen.  And the cluster of curious onlookers murmurs about how perfect the décor was, how stunning the lighting was, how gorgeous the color scheme was.

But no one really wants to live there. 

We want homes that embrace us with a forgiving patina of comfy couches and scuffed floors and a personality that screams (sometimes too insistently): "We live and love and create and dream here!" 

It’s hard to cultivate patina from perfection.  It requires age… oxidation… exposure to life’s rougher elements.  And the result is a stirring beauty that tells a story.

This is something I need to remember.   This is want I want to rewire in my brain, rewrite my internal soundtrack with…  Because I struggle with this inner voice that says: “Great is great.  Good is good.  Good enough, well, that’s just settling for mediocrity.”  I’ve given up on Great.  But I do want to be the Good Wife, the Good Mom, the Good and Faithful Child of God.  I am slowly figuring out, however, that if I achieve Good, then where is the need for God?  If I can be good on my own, then I forget the gift of his Grace.

Good enough is good enough for my Mr. and my kids, my friends and my family.  They don’t want flawless.  They want me here and now, available in this moment, not preoccupied with perfection. 

And God wants me here and now, as I am, flaws and all, because He is going to fill my gaps with his love and forgiveness and make me whole. He embraces my imperfections, because his power is made perfect in my weakness (2 Corinthians 12:9).  I need to be okay with being good enough so I can be open to God’s saving grace which is more than enough.  My picture doesn’t have to be perfect, because his frame, in the form of a rough-hewn cross, is bigger and brighter and better than anything I can ever dream to be.

Lord, help us to embrace our flaws and your forgiveness.  Help us to accept imperfection and weakness as an invitation for your grace and your power.  And please, please, please strengthen our spirit and quiet our minds when the perfectionist drive tries to worm its way into our wiring.  Amen.