29 | Believe

Even when I know better, sometimes I wonder...

Why be still?

There are answers that float around my head...  I need to rest.  I need to breathe. Life is too fast.  My faith is so important.  It just feels good.

But here's the real reason, for me at least.  I believe being still is the best way for God to transform me into something more useful to this world.  

Wait.  That sounded kind of utilitarian, like I'm a measuring cup or a tire pump.

I'm not a tool.  I'm not a cog in a machine.

But I hope and pray I am a small but important peace in this amazing puzzle that is God's kingdom on earth.  A small but steady reflection of our Lord's light and grace. A small but sincere arrow, pointing up to heaven and glorifying our God.

Deidre Elzer-Lento via hccny.org

Yes, I'm a teacher.  Yes, I'm a church program assistant.  A mother.  A wife.  A sister and daughter and friend and neighbor.

But at the core, I am a child of God.

WestWillow via Etsy.com

A child.  Young.  Immature.  Growing.  At 45 I figure I'm only halfway to heaven, and God has a lot he can do through me before then.

So how do I best serve God?  How do I best prepare to please Jesus?  How do I humbly invite the Holy Spirit to stir my soul?

www.moritzfineblogdesigns.com

I believe.  And I live out my belief.  I trust in God's transformation.  I go to the well of his word and drink deep.  I pray.  I pray.  And I pray some more. Then I harvest all that God has planted in me, scoop it up in my arms, and carry it out in the world.  I scatter his bounty in my words, my actions, my hugs, and my tears.  In the little details and the big bold statements.  I become a white board for his wisdom.  A mouthpiece for his message.  

Sometimes the proof of my loving God comes out like, "How could you deal with your annoyance over your brother in a more gentle way?"  Or, "What are some ways we can compromise about this weekend's plans?" And, "I'm sorry.  I hope I didn't step on your toes.  If I did, I'll gladly back off." Sometimes it looks like sending an "I'm thinking of you" email.  Or bringing a friend a good book.  And often a ten-minute back scratch.  Even if God's love comes out as something mundane, it is meaningful. 

When I'm rushed and crazed and crowded by earthly things, I don't feel God's nudges to be his hands and feet, his words and ears.  But when I am still in his presence, my belief blossoms into ideas for blessing others.

SpoonLily via Etsy.com

I believe that this is why God has put us on this earth: To love him with our whole hearts, and to love our neighbors as ourselves.  And to live. out. that. love.

We are going to get it wrong sometimes.  We'll confuse God's coordinates and tangle his transmissions.  But it is better to try and trip up, than to ignore God's guidance. We need to be confident in God's ability to bring his plans to fruition.

framedinfaith.blogspot.com

We are going to fail sometimes.  But faith looks that possibility of failure in the face and says, "Not today.  Not if I can help it.  Not if I stand fast with my Lord."  In our moments of stillness and God-breathed focus, we can visualize the unseen, we can perceive God's implausible possibilities, as daunting as they may be.  And we are fueled to forge ahead.

These still, quiet communions with God, these moments of breathing in our belief, allow us to make a sacred space in our souls for our living Lord to dwell.  Then there is no stopping what we can do with God and for God.  We will not fall.  We will stand tall.  We will glow.  And grow.  And glorify him, the basis of our belief.

clengheartsyou.tumblr.com

Lord,

I believe in my heart, in the depths of my soul, that our sweet, still time together is the best gift you have for me.  I believe you take this quiet soaking of faith and use it to transform me.  I believe that when I invite you to sustain me, you will provide all the direction and determination I need to be your presence, right where I am planted. 

Thank you for this opportunity to be still with you today.  Thank you for inspiring me with your goodness and filling me with your love.  Thank you for blessing me with belief.

Amen

26 | Be Rooted

In my midwestern corner of the world, we are all going gaga over the fall foliage. The maples have blazed up in brilliance.  The birch have witnessed a golden glory. And even the oaks have peaked in deep auburn and chestnut hues.  Each tree is majestic in it's crowning colors.

But today, in our stillness, I'm not going to wax poetic on autumn leaves.  Their blaze is amazing, but temporary.  Today we are going to turn our attention to what makes this short-lived show possible.  We are going to get down to the root of the matter: the roots.

For all the beauty we see above ground, trees replicate their span and shape below ground in their network of roots.  If a tree's visible crown overshadows its root system, it becomes weak and vulnerable.

www.landscapinggallery.info

That's why today, while the whole neighborhood was out raking and mulching and piling and bagging leaves, many were also turning attention to getting the trees through the dry fall and the frozen winter.  Long trickling drinks of water nursed the underground growth of both young and mature specimens.  Thirsty trees can't be flooded quick — they need slow drips, a drink that runs deep.

Our faith lives are not so different from these towering plants.  Our outward acts of faith get the reaction.  When we serve as God's hands and feet, voice and love in the world, we reflect the amazing hues of who he is.  But these acts fall and fade away. They will be replaced with new labors, new favors.  And the cycle will repeat.  It's not our acts that sustain our faith — it's God's grace, and our belief in that grace and prayers for that grace.  It's what the Holy Spirit does quietly, invisibly beneath the surface.  And so we nurture our roots, our relationship God.  

Which, most likely, is exactly why you've stopped by today: to be still, to grow deep down into God.

When we are still, when we quiet our minds and our hearts, we make room for the seeds God sows.  We invite God to grow into our lives.  But if we get distracted in our days, if our busyness crowds out our connectedness to the Lord, the living word can't build stable roots to sustain us.

Sometimes this sneaks up on me in strange ways.  Here I am, 26 days into daily meditating and writing about being still, about nurturing our relationship with God, yet I'm feeling... well...  a bit distant from my Heavenly Father.  How can that be?

It's like the posts I've been sending forth are falling and fading into dull browns and tired tans.  It's been a glorious month of sharing God's peace and connecting with you all.  But it's been so outward and visible.  I've been focusing more on external expression than invisible, interior depth.  I'm looking forward to November. I'm needing more of the stillness where my voice is silent and God's voice is strong.

Do you ever find yourself in this place?  Your ministry might be nurturing your family, fulfilling your professional work in a faith-filled way, reaching out to your community as God's hands and feet and hugs and service.  And you find yourself loving what God is doing through you, yet drifting all the same?

Let's lift this up to our Lord.  Won't you please pray with me?

Lord,

Today I want to stretch my roots deep into your grace and peace.  Help me to focus solely on our relationship.  Be with me as I drink deep and slow from the well of your word, your will, your way.

You've given us this powerful parable of the farmer sowing his seed.

"As he was scattering the seed, some fell along the path, and the birds came and ate it up. Some fell on rocky places, where it did not have much soil. It sprang up quickly, because the soil was shallow. But when the sun came up, the plants were scorched, and they withered because they had no root...  Still other seed fell on good soil, where it produced a crop—a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown.  Matthew 13:4-8

I know that our quiet time together is that good soil.  Being still with you on a frequent basis provides rich fodder for your Holy Spirit to grow deep in my soul. Remind me to savor your word with meditation and prayer.  I want to receive the seeds of your good news with rich and welcoming soil.  I want to produce a crop of your loving kindness that feeds everyone in my midst.

I know that you can do this in me, in all who ask you to build a deep and healthy root system in their faith.  Just as Paul prayed over the Ephesians (3:16-19), I similarly pray that you might strengthen my inner being through your Spirit, so you may dwell in my heart.  And I ask that you continually remind me that I am rooted and established in your love.  I pray that you will give me the power to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is your love, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that I may be filled to the greatest possible measure with your heavenly fullness.  Lord, make this drinking up with your fullness is my biggest thirst, my most important priority, in all that I do.

spiritualinspiration.tumblr.com

I eagerly look forward to the fruit of this deep root system that continually reaches for your strength and sustenance, Lord.  When I build my life on you, you grant me strength to get through the dry spells and cold snaps, you help me to overflow with thankfulness.  You insure that I am not weak to the power of temptation or negligent in our relationship.  My roots hold me firm in your way and your will.

The greatest blessing of this root system entwined in you, Lord, is that it continually holds me up.  It reminds me that I belong to you, my heavenly Father, King eternal. The winds and storms of this world may blow, but they cannot move you.  And they can do little more than rustle my leaves and bend my branches when I am rooted in you.  Thank you for naming and claiming me as your own child, for building me up in your amazing grace.  

Amen.

godstrong.tumblr.com

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.

Summer School

School may be out, but I've learned a thing or two this summer.  For instance...

Don't stare a big hairy goal in the face.  
It's too intimidating.  Check it out one little piece at a time.  Look at the toes first, then the ankle bone, and before you know it you're at the elbow and the arm pit. (All strange, funny parts that are interesting in unexpected ways.)  That's been my approach for reading every book of the Bible (something I started long ago, but am determined to finish this year).  I'm 73% percent done, and God is teaching me so much about perseverance in the process.

via YoungCatholicWomen.com

Embrace interruptions.  
They come bearing gifts.  Like giggles and hugs.  Heart to heart talks.  Job opportunities.  Glimpses of God.  And my eight-year-old's new love of cribbage, which floods me with memories of playing cards with my grandpa.  The laundry can always wait.

from Whimsy Studios

Check your laundry hoses every five years.
When they go, they go big and they go badly.  A week ago our hot water laundry hose ruptured.  Water sprayed all over the laundry room.  Which, when you are upstairs in bed after a long summer day, sounds just like the washer tub filling.  Which, by the time you find it at 6:57 the next morning, looks like three inches of standing water in the basement.  Which, in your groggy, disbelieving, pre-coffee-stimulated brain, makes you wonder why the previous owners' moved the laundry room to the opposite side of the basement from the floor drain.  It's kind of funny how thousands of dollars of damage and a week (and counting) of inconvenience can be avoided with a $28 pair of braided hoses and five minutes of labor.  

When crisis makes you crazy, pray.
I can handle the flood, the mess, the little bits of loss.  But it's the interminable noise of the 11 industrial fans that has been pushing me over the edge.  That and some pre-menopausal hormonal hullaballoo.  
I am so glad for digital, visual reminders that God is on standby, waiting for my prayers, waiting to carry me through crazy times.

from Lee Younger

from BornToMakeAnImpact@tumblr

I am so glad I can unload my burdens on God, then reload with his saving grace, all in a few prayerful moments.  And when God answers with a neighbor coming by to swoop up two bored and whining kids... Aaaaahhhh.  He IS so very good!

Seek the silver lining.
In response to the aforementioned basement flood, I am so grateful for plastic storage tubs, for shelving units 4" off the floor, for hard wood furniture that doesn't wick up moisture, and for the opportunity to purge our collection of stuff.  We didn't lose much that truly mattered.  And we have so much that many people don't ever get to take for granted.  Running water.  A sturdy roof over our heads.  An abundance of towels.  Helpful family and friends.  The list is endless...

via CreativeTryals.blogspot.com

Thank you, God, for giving me a teachable heart.  And a dry basement.  And inspiration all around. Amen.

I'm linking up with Emily at Chatting at the Sky today.  She is one big slice of my inspiration pie.

Bombardment Ball (or It's Time to Focus the Family)

Do you ever get the sense that life is just a series of random bits and pieces pelting you and pushing you along?  I go through stretches where I just feel so... reactive.  I get stuck in knee-jerk reaction mode, dealing with one urgent need after another.  I get so mindlessly, soullessly reactive that I almost become radio-active — stressed out by the bombardment ball of life to the point of being toxic.  Just picture that for a moment. 

Not pretty.


That's why I want so badly to be pro-active, intentional, focused.  I want to be centered in Christ so when the stuff of daily life tries to push me around, my feet and my faith still stand firm.

So I read my Bible and go to church and pray through the nooks and crannies of my day.  I feel pretty rooted.  Not perfect.  But better than the alternative.

And just when I'm about to pat myself on the back and high five the Holy Spirit...

...I see what I've been missing.

Yes, that's my daughter, the ball of stress and frustration and perfectionism and anger that I have spawned.  Hardly 8:00am on a Tuesday and she's in full-throttle radioactive reactionary mode.  Her only focus is on deflecting her inner yuck onto everyone in her midst.

Help me, help me, help me, Lord.  She needs some centering, too.

It's time to renew my efforts to help my kiddos find a kinder, gentler, more grace-filled focus to soften the sharp blows from this world's projectiles.

It's time to find time — between church choir and school work, gymnastics and basketball, Girl Scouts and Boy Scouts, making dinner and folding laundry — to slow down in God's love.  To fill up with God's grace.

And the child grew and became strong; he was filled with wisdom, and the grace of God was upon him. 

Luke 2:40 (NIV)

I have no idea how I'm going to do it.  All I know is I do not want this mission to become another bombardment ball, pelting me into a state of stress.

I think I'll start by putting my daughter's Bible on her bed, with an I've-been-there letter from Mom.  I'll leave her with a verse that calms my stormy soul.  

And for my son, I think the Lego men stuffed animal entourage may be lined up along his Bible tonight, inviting him in.

Another day we might pull out the markers and paper and dress up and doodle God's word, decorating our hearts and our bedroom walls with scripture verses.

by Stephanie Ackerman @ HomegrownHospitality.typepad.com

When they scream for screen time I'll give them Seeds Family Worship videos. 

Are there Veggie Tales for tweens?  If not, could somebody please get crackin' on that? 

And we need to get back to reading the Bible together and praying together REGULARLY.  Perhaps we'll move it to a wake-up-and-face-the-day snuggle time when this mom has a little more energy.

Oh, how I wish I had this family faith corner squared away.  I wish I had a list of proven strategies to share with you.  But instead of inspiration and tangible tactics, today you get this: an invitation to journey alongside me as I work to focus my family in faith. 

What do you do to center your family in God's grace?  I'd love to hear your ideas and borrow from your experiences.

11 | FaithFULLness

"I believe; help my unbelief!"

Mark 9:24b (NIV)

Lord, 

I love you.  I am so grateful to be a child of God, forgiven and set free.  I want to trust you in all that I do, in all that I dream.  I want to live my belief in you, of you, with confidence, joy, and hope.  I want to... but sometimes... too often... I fall into unbelief.

I believe, and I don't believe as much as you deserve.  How can these opposites coexist?  Or are they are not so far apart?  Perhaps my belief and my unbelief are entwined like strands of DNA, creating a code for my faith.  Perhaps twists of unbelief underscore my need to trust you, the blessings of trusting you.  Perhaps these turns of doubt are the negative image that outlines the positive peace of abiding in you, my Rock and my Redeemer.  Lord, help my unbelief.  And use it to remind me to return to you.  For that is where I want to be: trusting in you, living out my gratitude for your grace. 

I see the bare cross, but it is not barren.  It carries our sins, forgiven and forgotten.  It bears new life in Christ.  It shapes the "t"s that bookend trust — trust in you, the God who gave up everything out of love for us.  It points to heaven, pointing to the promise of eternal relationship with you.  Lord, you have given me the gift of Christ's death and resurrection.  May my response — my thanks — be a trusting, believing walk with you, today and every day.

"Genuine faith walks steadfastly with God for the pleasure of His company not for His results."

Beth Moore, Living Beyond Yourself: Exploring the Fruit of the Spirit

Lord, your faithfulness knows no end.  Your constant presence and goodness is a comfort always.  Your unconditional love clothes the conditions of earthly living with joy and peace.  Great is your faithfulness, which makes my life full.

Help me to lean into your faithfulness, to learn from your faithfulness.  Shape my faith with your Holy Spirit and grace.  Be my sight when I cannot see, my strength when I cannot stand, my hope when my spirits sag.  Be my light, leading me always and shining through me for others.  Make me full in your faithfulness, in my faith in you.

Amen.

8 | The Little People in My Life

Is it Week #2 of the 31 Days series already?  Time flies when you've committed to posting daily...

It just dawned on me, dear readers/followers/lurkers, that I just throw you into these prayers.  No intro.  No set up.  No context.  Hmmm.  That's rather awwwwkward.  So sorry!

I didn't really know what I was getting into with 31 Days of Prayer.  I guess I didn't really expect anyone to follow my inexperienced blatherings in this blog.  So I've been launching into prayer straight away, pouring my heart out to God.  And it feels good.  Taking one topic a day and capturing my prayer on a screen has really forced me to focus on God, his gifts, and where I can meet him in these areas of my life.  I find these prayers roll around in my head all day.  7 | Love Song made me a better wife for a couple days.  (Sorry, honey, I guess it's wearing off a bit!)  4 | Thanksgiving framed my focus on all the little things I take for granted, but am truly grateful for.  I feel like my prayer habit is maturing—from my typical rushed prayer that pops in and out of my head faster than I can eat a Pop-Tart, to something more lasting, more influential on my behavior.  God is clearly working on me, and I am so very glad.

I humbly hope to be God's faithful servant as I write these prayers.  May his Spirit sprinkle them with words that your heart is longing to hear.  I hope these prayers are launching you into your own conversations with our Heavenly Father.  I hope your prayers are rolling around in your head the whole day long.  And I fervently, persistently pray something good and fruitful is brewing in your prayer life.

Thanks for joining me on this journey.  Your companionship has transformed this into a personal challenge to a place of fellowship and worship.  As I log on I feel myself tuning in to God and hearing his voice in your reflections on these prayers.  You are pure gift, dear readers.

And now, some solid prayer-time for guiding the little people in our lives...

Dear Lord,

You have blessed me with the wonderful children in my life.  Each day with them is pure gift.  Every time they smile, giggle, and hug, I am reminded that life is so very good.  Every time they ask curious questions I see the wonder of this world you created.  Every time they pray I am reminded how very close you are to us.  Every time they drive me crazy (and it's a short drive, as Mr. reminds me), I marvel at your unending, unconditional, unwavering love.  I pray that you will bless me with a large slice of that love today.  Help me to share it with my kids; help me to show it to my kids.  They deserve every bit of it.

God, you have shown me that parenting is an amazing journey in faith.  I have never felt more stupid, exhausted humble than during those long, sleep-deprived months with my newborns.  I have never felt more frustrated, insane uncertain then the long period of my sweet daughter slipping into an insomniac spiral, espousing fear after anxiety after fear, working up drama upon drama.  I have never felt more irate, maniacal, afraid of child protection services  challenged then when my happy boy sprouted horns, grew fangs, defied logic, hit me in the head with his shoe, and ran away from me—all while laughing with victorious glee. 

Thank you, Lord, for leading me through these and other parenting challenges.  Thanks for answered prayers, faith-filled parents who listened and gently coached, loving family who jumped in just when I needed them, and your Living Word that illuminated the darkest, most despairing days.  You never give up on my ability to help me kids through trying times, even when I want to give up.  You never give up on my kids, even when I want to give them away.  I am grateful for your constant and abiding love that shows me the better way to parent.  I am blessed that I can always, always trust in you and your wisdom.  Help me to point my kids to your eternal love.  Help me to foster a deep and resilient faith in them, so they trust in you always.

You know my current worries for my children.  I ask now that you lift them off my heart so they don't get in the way of my love for them or their need to grow into their own selves.  

For my daughter 

...who is testing our limits, please give her the strength to choose right from wrong.  Help her to seek out Jesus' example when she's not sure what to do.  Plant your good Word in her mind to guide her in times of temptation.  When she's struggling to do the right thing, write prayers on her heart, and give her patience to wait for your answers.  Above all else, make sure she knows that even when she misbehaves, you are still her accepting, loving, forgiving Heavenly Father.

For my son

...I ask that you build up his confidence.  When he feels like the little guy left out, give him the strength to find another friend or activity that gives him joy.  When his feelings are crushed and his ego is bruised, help him to know that YOU always remember and love him. And when his hurt and frustration boils over to anger, give him deep breaths and slow counts and some self control.  Help him to remember that he is a beloved child of God just as he is.  Use these hurts to make him a compassionate, faithful friend to others who are hurting.

Thank you, God, for loving my children so dearly, for watching over them so carefully.  Thank you for filling all the holes in my parenting with love and forgiveness.  Most of all, I thank you for naming and claiming my children as your own.  Bless them always with a powerful faith in your saving grace.

Amen.

Rest assured that God hears all of your prayers for the children in your lives, whether they are your sons and daughters, grandchildren, or the young people in your midst.  And thank you, for being a bright and shining example of God's love in their lives.

Could you spend a whole month praying for your children?  Check out this series:

Could you use a resource that has prayers for all kinds of parenting dilemmas?  I love this book:

Prayers from a Mom's Heart by Fern Nichols

1 | Responding to His Invitation [ 31 Days of Prayer ]

Lord, 

You patiently wait for me each day, waiting to hear my stories, my worries, my hopes.  You watch my flurry of activity, hoping for a moment of stillness so you can remind me of your deep and abiding love.  Lord, why do I forget you?  Why don't I see your invitation to prayer and meditation in the unlit candle, the empty chair, the unopened Bible?  Why do I see the dust and the dishes and "to do" lists instead?  Forgive me, God.  Please rewire my brain and rewrite my heart.  Make me an enthusiastic and frequent pray-er.

As I talk with you, Lord, keep my spirit in tune with yours.  Help me to pray your Word and seek your will.  Guide me to intercede for others who need your love and healing.  Show me how to be still... to know you are my God... and to listen for your wisdom during our prayer time.  I look forward to more time together with you, in earnest and caring conversation.  I know it will richly bless my days and my life.

Thank you and Amen.

Friends,

I invite you to pray with me for these 31 days.  I welcome you to use these posts as a starting point for your conversations with God.  May your prayers bring you moments of deep and abiding peace.  May your prayers nourish your faith and renew your spirit.  And may your prayers strengthen you in your daily walk with Christ.  Thanks for stopping by.

Liz

Introducing... 31 Days of Prayer

In my blog wanderings I keep bumping into The Nester.  She's creative, knowledgeable, and inspiring.  And she's come up with this cool "31 days" concept of blogging each day on a specific topic.  Year #1 she did it on her own.  Year #2 she invited seven friends to join her.  Now it's Year #3 and she's opened the floodgates to anyone who is interested.

And so I'm jumping in the 31 Day stream with 31 Days of Prayer.  Why?  (I've asked myself that several times in the past couple weeks.)  Because God won't let me let go of the idea.  It nudges me day and night.  And I think it will be good  to a) grow closer to God, b) revitalize my lackadaisical prayer habit, c) become a better blogger, and d) exercise my spiritual, mental, and language muscles.  

I'm curious to seeing where God takes me in relation to these goals.  I'm curious to see if I still adore The Nester after a month of daily posts (or if I admit I am not worthy of her online cleverness).  I'm curious to hear what you think of all this.  (The "comments" button is still there... just waiting for you!)

Stay tuned: Prayer #1 will be posted momentarily.  I will accumulate them on the 31 Days of PRAYER page as the month goes by.  Thanks for traveling this prayer journey with me!

Theology of Dried Up Markers

I have had to control the urge to buy Brand New Juicy Markers no less than six times this Back-to-School season.  (Having just purchase a 50-marker pack this summer, that seemed more like a Greed than a Need.  Bummer!)  What is it about those perfect tips?  Those strong and flowing colors?  That packaged promise of new and artistic creations?

We love markers at our house.  But we also have a thing for dying and dried out markers.  It’s this kind of thing:

Retired marker cup

It's become our Enviro-Friendly, Upcycled, Repurposed Gift Giving craft of choice.

Tutorial

You need:

• About 12 to 20 dried markers
• One clean and tin can, stripped of its label
• A piece of ribbon, about 10” long
• A hot glue gun. 

1.   Glue each marker around the base.   Start by laying down a one- to two-inch horizontal bead of glue and putting two or three markers in place at a time.  It helps to keep the can on the table and make sure the marker bottom is flush with the bottom of the can.  

Note: If you are a perfectionist, God help you, and get a rubber band so you can do a dress rehearsal of how the markers will fit around the can.  That way if you have a gap at the end you can play with using markers of various sizes to fit the circumference better. 

Another Note:  If you are a math major, you could probably figure out an equation for x pens =  pi * can’s radius to determine the quantity and diameter of the pens that you will need.  But you should really put your problem solving skills to slowing the world’s climate change problem instead of extrapolating a mathematical formula for crafting… 

2.   Anyway, once you get your markers glued on, find a colorful ribbon, tie it in place over a glue got or two, and voila!  You have the perfect teacher appreciation gift. 
 
3.   If you want to earn bonus points or redeem yourself after forgetting homework and Media Center books all year, throw in a batch of pencils and a cute tag.  A+++!

All this thinking about markers and assessing our dwindling stash of dried out relics got me reflecting on the Theology of Dried Up Markers.

In baptism, God makes us—his markers in the world—fresh and juicy receptacles of his flowing Holy Spirit.  And that is very, very good.  But if we don’t keep our caps on tight by staying connected to God and his Living Word, our ink—our ability to color our world with God’s vibrant love—will dry up.

And we do dry up.  We are human.  Flawed.  Imperfect.

But that is not the end of the story.  (Amen to THAT!)  God doesn’t toss us out when we wander away from him, distracted by earthly things, forgetting our caps under the craft table, neglecting his word and his will.

He waits.  And he works.  And more often than we realize, he brings us back to him, taking his dried out, crusty, errant children and rejuvenating us.  We might not be revived with a miraculously never-ending ink supply.  But we might be gathered in fellowship with a bunch of other flawed Christians, set into a new place with a new purpose, and lovingly shared with the world.  With a bow around us, to boot!  Talk about being born again as something better!

I don’t know about you, but sometimes I fear that being made anew in Christ means changing who I am.  That’s hard.  I like who I am.  If I change in Christ how does that change my relationships with loved ones, the joy I get from favorite pastimes, the comfort of my current life?  When I’m stuck in this thinking it helps to remember that God doesn’t replace me or completely remake me.  He takes what I am and makes it better.  He connects me to others in a new way, in a new purpose.  He works beyond my original size and shape and dreams up something far more colorful than I could ever imagine.

It’s like Ann Voskamp said in a recent webcast (I paraphrase…): As Christians we say “Yes” to who God is.  We also say “Yes” to who God says we are.  He says we are forgiven.  Renewed.  Made clean.  Made whole.  Loved unconditionally and eternally.  God says our crusty emptiness counts no more.  He says we are each a lovingly chosen receptacle for his grace.  A clay jar.  A dried up marker.  And he uses us and only he can.

This is what I take away from learning God’s lesson about the Dried Up Markers: I’ve let go of stressing over the ruts and dry spots in my faith journey.  I’ve let go of my imperfections.  I turn my eyes back to Jesus.  I revive my habits.  And I wait for God to work me into his latest and greatest craft project. 

Thanks, God, for being our Divine Creator, for making me new in you.

Amen.

P.S.  If you have any dried up markers lying around your house that you don’t plan on using, send them our way.  The glue gun and tin cans are waiting!

Learning

Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice.  And the God of peace will be with you.

Philippians 4:9 (NIV)

I don't know about you, but September borders on being a season of overload and chaos for me.  Starting up a new school year, adjusting to new systems, juggling all the details—my head doesn't seem to stop spinning until October.  

This September I'm trying to learn to lean on God.  Really learn.  Fully lean.  With my actions as well as my mind and my heart.  This might be the toughest lesson.  Ever.  

With all that competes for our attention and energy, how do we stay focused as seekers of Christ?  How do YOU remember to "turn your eyes upon Jesus" and "look full in his wonderful face"?  Please share your daily reminders of framing your life with faith.  Share how you keep your eyes on God's great prize.  (See that little "comment" link below?  Don't be bashful!)

Because that's the view I really want.  Everything earthly looks more radiant and promising through the lens of God's love and forgiveness.  And when I have that view, I am able to reflect God's grace to my loved ones, even when the routines are rugged and the calendar feels chaotic and the tick tick tick of the clock sounds more like a time bomb.

The daily grind is so temporary, so hardly worth our worry.  So today I choose the better part, leaning on and loving my God and Father.  

Lord,

Make me teachable.  Open my heart and mind to your divine, all-knowing transformation, for I know it will bring me closer to you and your glory.  Scrub away the stain of my sin, God.  Cleanse my soul with your love and forgiveness.  Train me to seek you first and always.

Amen.

Rocks and Hard Places

The earthquake devastation in Haiti is heavy on my heart today. The pictures in the newspaper, the eyewitnesses' accounts on the radio... The human pain and suffering, the infrastructure's obliteration... And this is only a very slim sampling of the disaster. My prayers go out to the victims and survivors and all their loved ones. My prayers also go out to the countries and leaders who can – who must – help the Haitian residents get back on their feet and rebuild a better, more peaceful and more prosperous existence.

This is one of those hard places for faith. Questions haunt us, questions like "How can God let this happen?" and "Why does God let human suffering – from poverty or hunger or earthquakes or all of the above – exist?" The answers are there, too. "God didn't do this." "God is with us in suffering." Cerebrally I believe, but my heart and soul are aching for a quicker fix. So I stare at the Bible verse I stuck on my bathroom mirror this week:

Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know the testing of your faith develops perseverance.  

James 1:2-3

And I think of the more secular corollary: What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Then I try to purge my doubt and cynicism in prayer.

God, bring the people of Haiti closer to you. Hold them gently and lovingly in your hands. Fill them with clean water, good food, hope, and so much faith. Surround them with safe dwelling places, with helpful people, and with all your love. Help us all to see your powerful, compassionate presence at work in response to this crisis. Help us to have faith in you and your ways. Help us to rejoice in your eternal salvation and to be patient and steadfast when it seems so very far away.  Amen.

But this isn't where I thought I was going with this post at all. I thought I was going to explore the idea of rocks. Jesus, the rock. Putting first things first – as in filling a jar with rocks first and the sand can still be poured in after, but it never works the other way around. You get the idea.

I was all excited about my brainstorm to put a Bible verse in my electronic calendar each week in the form of a Sunday morning appointment. First things first. Focusing on my Rock and my Redeemer. Surely this would help me keep God and his Word in my focus throughout the day and week. Small thing. Good habit. A bit to tidy and trite for God's taste.

So God blows my perspective wide open today with the news about Haiti. I weep and utter thanks for my beautiful family and our safety. I realize that having God in my heart and my family around me are all that really matter. I don't need a Bible verse in my calendar to remind me that. I need an aware and compassionate heart, one that remembers that today is a gift, tomorrow is uncertain, but eternity in heaven is given by God's unconditional grace and love. That promise, I know, is rock solid.

And as for that brainstorm that I was feeling so spiffy about... I'm still going to stick with the Bible verse in the electronic calendar, but when I look at them I'll also be thinking of Haiti and God's loving presence in every hard place.