22 | Be Free

Sometimes as I settle into stillness before God, I struggle to free my mind and heart and soul to be fully present with him.  I feel tied to my devotional "To Do" list.  I keep knotting up in feelings of unworthiness.  I get tangled in earthly distractions and my own inefficacy.

Questions crash the quiet. Am I doing this right?  Am I getting God's message loud and clear?  Am I praying hard enough?  Sincerely enough?  Have I spent enough time with God?  Have I said the things I need to say?  The things he wants to hear?  Questions crowd out Christ's grace-filled gift of freedom.

"Hush," God says. "Enough, already."

Shush the doubts.  Silence the insecurities.  God wants me to know I am enough.

chattingatthesky.com

I am enough because God loves me, not because of what I've done, but because of who he is.  Heavenly Father.  Creator of all that is good.  Steadfast and merciful.

It is enough that I simply rest in the stillness with God.  Our relationship doesn't hinge on what I am doing.  It is secure in what Christ has already done.

gracecamedown.com

Stand fast therefore in the liberty by which Christ has made us free, and do not be entangled again with a yoke of bondage.  Galatians 5:1

On the cross Christ set us free — free from sin, free from our unworthiness, free from having to earn our salvation.  In selfless, self-sacrificing love, Christ saved us with a one-time act that lasts for all of eternity.

That's a big gift.  Sometimes the biggest and most generous gifts are the hardest to accept.  But that's exactly what we need to do.  Because the alternative — the doubting our worthiness and questioning God's grace — entangles us and enslaves us in our old ways.  

Paul urges us to throw off that old yoke and to embrace this free gift.  "Stand fast" in our "liberty."  Be bold in our freedom.  Be free in knowing God loves us that much.  

Be free from self-doubt; embrace God-trust.

Be free from striving to earn God's love; embrace being God's love in the world.

Be free from the guilt of old sin; embrace God's forgiveness and a new life.

Be free from doing; embrace being, simply being a child of God

It's a tall order.  But God fills us with the Holy Spirit to help make it happen.

Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit who gives life has set you free from the law of sin and death!  Romans 8:1-2

If you need help in accepting this freedom in Christ, won't you join me in prayer?

Lord,

I am a creature of this earth, flawed and imperfect.  Stained and rumpled and ragamuffin-y.  For some reason I expect you to see me with human eyes.  I expect your disappointment, and I hide myself from you in shame.  I try to scrub off the dirt and deficiencies I see so clearly.  But you see me like a small child wearing the days adventures and misadventures, and you love me for what you see deep in my heart.  

I know that you invite me to be free from my slavish ways of sin and guilt, of self-doubt, of striving where you have already succeeded.  Help me to be free in your salvation.  Help me to accept your loving grace.  And help me to respond by wrapping myself in the selfless love that says, "My God is bigger and better than I can ever imagine.  My love for God is so overpowering I have to share it with everyone in my midst."  

I can't get to this place of adoration and acceptance on my own.  I need your Holy Spirit to guide me there.  And this is all the more reason I need to be still with you. To still my weak ways and embrace your grace.  To quiet my doubts so there is room for me to hear your gentle voice.

Help me to remember that you accept me totally and completely, just as I am.  Help me feel free to be myself — to be the person you created me to be — trusting that you can use my messy life to write your own special message.  Help me to freely, boldly share your message in my corner of the world.

Amen

onegirl-itjusttakesone.blogspot.com

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.

Sins Swallowed Up (and a chance to win your own Repentence Box!)

This is the second in a series of ideas for Lenten devotions and activities.  Whatever you do (or don't do) during Lent, I pray your journey to the Jesus' sacrifice on the cross is filled with the love, peace, and amazing grace of God.

Sometimes, when you are a random abstract person, you come across a great idea, seize it and hug it and love the fuzz off of it, and then — when you want to share it with the masses or at least a handful of friends — you can't find the original source for all the searching in the world and it's enough to make you scream or slay dust bunnies or cross your eyes and foam at the mouth and lay in a frumpy heap on the floor in the middle of the slaughtered dust bunnies.  Can you tell I'm in a bit of a tizzy about this?  Today this random abstract source-seeking person is me, and the English teacher in me is none too happy about potential plagiarism.  My legal-minded Mister wouldn't be happy either.  Intellectual property and all.

That said, this is NOT my idea.  And if you know where it comes from and whom I can credit, please do share and assuage my guilt.

There.  I've laid my plagiarism sin bare.  I promise to try and track sources better from here on out.  And I beg forgiveness from the originator of... The Magical Sin Swallowing Box.

Okay, that's not what it was originally called.  I'll take credit for the name.  But that's as far as I can go.

As we journey through Lent and look to Jesus' sacrifice on the cross, the biggest thing I want my kids to realize is how big, how powerful, how cleansing Jesus' loving forgiveness is.   

We are all sinners, stuck in mistakes (plagiarism and worse), lost on our own.  Jesus knows that.  He loves us in spite of that.  And that love — God's love — carried him through his darkest hours of crucifixion.  And because he gave his life for us, we get a clean slate every time we repent and return to God.  Every time.  

We get to cuddle in close to God even when we're dirty and stained and streaked with tears.  He doesn't say, "Hey, not so close to the shining white robes," or give us a scolding look.  He looks over at Jesus, they shrug their shoulders and smile at one another in knowing fashion, and then God pulls us in close and cleans away our dirty sins with a heavenly hankie: the grace of Jesus' sacrifice. 

It takes a bit of imagination and a lot of faith to trust in that forgiveness and salvation.  My kiddos — a lot of people — benefit from a visual aid to reinforce the idea.

And that's where the Magical Sin Swallowing Box comes in.

During Lent, we...

1. Write our sins on dirty gray hearts. 
2. We confess our mistakes and offer up our hurting hearts to God, asking him to forgive us and renew us as only he can.  
3. Then we slip those scraps of sin into a shoebox.  
4. As we let the paper go, we ask God to help us truly let the sin go, to erase the hurt and the guilt and the distance from God in our hearts, our heads, our souls, to help us embrace his forgiveness and grace.
5. And then we repeat.  Often.  

Forty days of sins released fills up our box.  Then on Easter morning, we open the sealed box.  And where one might expect to see dozens of gray hearts, scribbled with sin, what God gives us is this...

A box of clean, white hearts.  Clean slates.  Do-overs.  Invitations to come to him pure and clean and forgiven.  God doesn't just forgive our sins.  He forgets them.  All we have to do is repent and believe.

 
You are wondering what happened to the gray, sin-filled hearts.  This is where the magic comes in.  That shoe box has been outfitted with a hidden compartment.  The sin-filled hearts are trapped in a 1/2" deep cardboard tray glued inside the lid of the box.  Sneaky, eh?  (I am mildly afraid that this is the year my kids will figure it out.  If that happens, I'll turn it into a lesson on dimensions and measurement...)

Here's how you make the box.

1. Procure a good, old-fashioned shoe box. 
2. Measure the inside length and width of the lid.  Add 1" to both measurements (this will give you an extra 1/2" on each side to fold up and glue to the lid, making a 1/2" secret compartment).
3. Cut a rectangle of cardboard (an empty cereal box works nicely) according to your original lid measurement + 1" ( this becomes your secret compartment bottom).
   
4. Draw a line 1/2" inside each edge.
5. Cut away a 1/2" square from each corner.
6. Go over the 1/2" lines with a boning knife (or a ball point pen) to create a narrow groove which will make it easier to fold the cardboard.
7. Fold the 1/2" cardboard edges up at a 90° angle.
8. Cut a cross-shaped slit in the center of the box lid and the secret compartment bottom.  An Exacto knife or box cutter makes easy work of this step.  Make the slit about 1/8" wide, at the most.  If it's too wide, the secret compartment might be obvious.
9. Wrap the box and the lid in wrapping paper.  
10. Warm up your glue gun or get out some rubber cement or tacky glue.  You want an adhesive that will set quickly and securely.  Apply a line of glue on the inside of the lid, along the sides about 1/4" away from the top.



You can print this for free.  Wheeee!

11. Slide the secret compartment into place and hold until the glue sets.
12. Once the secret compartment is in place, you can have the kiddos decorate the Swallowing Sin Box.  We just put a simple Bible verse on ours, but Easter stickers, crosses, or pictures of Jesus would all be snazzy.
13. Cut hearts from gray paper.  We do 40 hearts for each family member, enough for one a day if we're diligent and consistent.  We use a paper punch for this, which makes the heart cutting go MUCH faster.
14. In secret, well after the kids are asleep, cut out the white hearts.
15. Put the white hearts in the box and seal it.  You can break out the glue gun again for this step.  Wheeee!

And if that strikes you as too much fuss, know that there are other Repentance Box ideas out there.  Such as decorating a box, writing down sins, and then burning the notes on Easter day.  Or this... one of many inspiring ideas from Ann Voskamp at A Holy Experience.

Family Repentance Box

Much simpler.  But no hot glue guns are involved.  And I do love my hot glue gun.

How ever you encourage your family to name, claim, and surrender their sins, may you and your loved ones know that saving power of God's forgiveness and grace this Lenten season.

P.S.  
Leave a comment about this post and you will be in the running for one 4 3/4" x 7 3/8" Magical Sin Swallowing Box made by yours truly, complete with secret compartment, 160 dirty gray hearts, and 160 clean white hearts.  I will ship said box to you, the randomly chosen winner, a.s.a.p.  My posts typically average 0.03 responses, so this shouldn't be too tough.  Best of luck!

Jelly Beans and Jesus

I firmly believe that if jelly beans were around in Jesus' time, he would have adored them.

"Let all the children come to me.  I've got jelly beans and love and hope!"

He would for sure have had a jelly bean parable or two.  "The kingdom of God is like a jelly bean, smaller than any other delectable treat, but full of juicy, colorful goodness that you can't even imagine until you bite into it..."

In the absence of any official words from Jesus about jelly beans, I'm filling in the blanks with inspiration from various sources around the Internet, all starting from the original Jelly Bean Prayer by Shirley Kozak.

So, without further ado, here's a post about putting some theology into the kiddos' Easter treats with just a few easy steps.  Print something here, grab some beans at the store, find some jars in the cupboard, and you are ready to roll.

print me!

Now, I'm all for a prayer and a fistful of jelly beans.  But I like to add an extra, devotional angle to this.  Here's how the jelly bean prayer works at our house.  (If you want to join in the fun, you can click on the card images to download and print them, assuming the technology works...)

We have a big ol' jar of beans decorated with the Jelly Bean Prayer.  On the back of the prayer card is a list of Jelly Bean Activities.

Each morning the kiddos read the prayer card aloud.  Then they each pick out a jelly bean from the jar and place it in their individual jars.  The color they picked determines the Lenten activity for the day.  (They work really hard to keep a balance of colors going.  It's one area of their lives where they practice fairness with admirable consistency!)

print me, too!

Then they look for opportunities to do their Lenten "assignment" during the day.  We usually report back during dinner or before bedtime prayers.  It makes for a great platform for discussion where we saw God in our day.  It's like a Lenten "show & tell."








And because I rarely do anything the same way twice, this year I'm adding a Bible verse component.  We read a verse that relates to the line of the prayer and/or the activity.  Nothing like filling them up with some verses to go with those candy beans.

print me, three!

Wait.

This IS all about candy, right? 

When do they eat the jelly beans?

I'm so glad you asked.  Because this is one of my favorite parts of this activity.

They don't eat the candy until... wait for it...

Easter morning.  It's a delicious practice in delayed gratification.  In seeing how their faith-filled actions pile up.  In witnessing how God fills them with love and grace. They are the empty jars.  And when they tune into God, he fills them with bright and juicy goodness.

Now, I sense you are shaking your head in disbelief.  "My kids will never, ever, not in a million years WAIT to eat those beans."  Did I read your mind?  No, I don't have ESP.  (I wish!!)  I just thought that very same thing when we started this at our house.  But those darling kiddos, they surprised me.  Even my sweet-stashing daughter didn't snitch an early jelly bean.  Not one.  She even counted them all at the end to make sure she didn't miss any days.

I chalk it up as one of God's modern day miracles.  That's the way God works in us and on us.  In our weakness his power is made perfect.  In our jelly beans he shows us his love.

30 | The Gift of Grace

Better late than never.  Here it is, Prayer #30.  Thanks to dear friends who sent open, honest messages about where they are in their prayer journeys.  And thanks to all of you who've been tuning in for portions of these 31 Days.  More on that tomorrow!  Let's get to praying before the clock strikes 12 midnight!

Dear Lord, 

I've been looking back through old prayer journals, picking up threads of ongoing prayers, weaving them into current conversations with you.  I am struck by the frequency of some topics.  Dumbstruck with how slowly I progress as I try to be a better wife, mother, friend.  Stuck in ruts of self-rebuke, of rolling in rue of things done wrong or left undone.  

Do you ever roll your eyes when I come to you feeling undone with my lack of patience, my bitter tongue, my chronic irritability?  'Cause that's what I was doing after I read the umpteenth prayer about not being my best self with my Mr. and my kiddos.  "Get over it, lady!"  I said to myself.  "No one's perfect, for crying out loud."  Myself tried to argue back, but lacking a snappy comeback or a logical retort, she flounced out of the room in a sulky snit.  She's still in her self-induced time out, trying to figure out where her better self is.  Maybe she'll come back to this prayer party when she gets her attitude in order.

So that's where I was mentally and spiritually when I sat down in the pew for worship this morning, God.  Feeling bugged at my self-criticism, feeling ready to be more charitable with myself and less self-absorbed.  Like a wall, primed and ready to grab on to a fresh new coat of paint.  And the pastor brushed this fabulous color — let's call it Grace-filled Grey — all over my soul.  It's one of those colors that feels fresh and refreshing, but somehow familiar all at once.  Lord, how I love it when I'm tuned in to you and ready to receive your message.

Grace: It's a gift, a FREE gift.  No strings attached.

The pastor's sermon was rooted in Romans 3:19-24 and Paul's reminder that the law gives us knowledge of our sins, but we are no longer slaves to sin.  (You know all this God, but be patient as I bring my 13 delightful blog friends up to speed.)  God's grace gives us the gift of forgiveness and salvation.  The key to enjoying that gift is to receive it with a whole-hearted trust in God and his saving grace.  We don't have to earn it.  We CAN'T earn it.  Good works and self-criticism and trying to scale the skyscraper of perfectionism won't get us one inch closer to heaven.  Salvation is given out of God's abiding, unending love.  Oh, Lord, that is the most beautiful gift.  Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Lord, I feel like you used today's sermon to drive a big, fat, and maybe final nail into the coffin of my self-rebuke, my hang-ups about my outbursts, the bounce back from my falls and bad bounces.  Berating myself for not being my best self is foolish.  It is that sulky, snit-ridden Myself trying to keep some control over my salvation.  There are several problems with that.  1) My track record for getting things right isn't that hot.  2) There's nothing I can do to earn salvation.  It's all in your hands, your good and giving hands.  3) What I need to be doing is a) not obsessing with how I get things wrong and b) getting out of the way so you can get to work and do your amazing grace thing all over me.

God, help me to make up the difference.  I can't do it alone.

So, Lord, please help me to trust you completely with my salvation.  Help me to see all the commandments and laws and guidelines for good Christian living as a measuring stick that identifies my human limitations and indicates where and how you can help me grow.  Help me to toss out — once and for all — that notion that the aforementioned commandments/laws/guidelines are a stick with which to beat myself.  Help me to embrace your amazing grace.  Help me to let go of the rueful bounce back of my wrongdoings, the guilt hangover that clouds my vision.  

Help me, Lord, to see myself as you see me: uniquely quirky and flawed, but so tremendously lovable and forgivable (like a puppy that keeps peeing on the floor). Help me to forgive myself as you forgive me: immediately and for always, sins completely forgiven and completely forgotten, all because my heart aches with regret and wanting to do better by my loved ones.  Help me to love myself as you love me, with permission to enjoy a fresh start and free grace just because I am a child of God.

This is how I want to live, embracing your grace, giving you room to do your amazing work in me.  Thank you God, for that precious, precious gift.

Amen.

21 | Inviting His Grace

photo by Kimba @ asoftplace.com

I've been reflecting on the Fruit of the Spirit, and seen so many instances of where I need more love, more joy and more peace, more patience, kindness, gentleness, goodness, and so so SO much more self control!  It's been nagging at me, almost dragging me down, this awareness.  But that is not what God wants.  He wants this humility to open a door for his Spirit, to create an opportunity for him to work in me.  So today I'm trying to let go of guilt and let God do his thing...

Dear Lord, 

As I've looked inward at the State of My Soul, the ripeness of the fruit of the Spirit in me, I've seen so many places where I fall short.  I've seen green, hard patches that need your Light, the saving grace of your Son.  

There is a temptation in this self-searching to berate myself, to get frustrated.  That is not where I want to be.  Let me simply be humbled by the gaps between my effort and your power.  Knowing that I cannot stay in step with the Spirit by my own volition, I ask you to be my guide.

I have seen my need for you, I have asked for your forgiveness.  Now help me to embrace your grace.  Help me to see myself as you see me: forgiven, clean, made new in your love.  Like the dark blue sky this early morning, free of all clouds, lit here and there by a twinkling star.  Waiting.  Bare but not barren.  Open wide to a new day, a new way.  And in the east, a rising light.  Your dawn.  Your direction.  Illuminating my soul.  Brightening my world.  Shining through the dark and chasing it away.

Help me, Lord, to see your light in me.  Sometimes I focus on my lack.  Reframe my perspective; remind me that my shortcomings are there by your inspired design.  I am not whole on my own.  You make me whole.  You fill me up.  You complement and complete.  You are my Lord, alive and active in me.

Oh, the peace that comes when I remember this!  Thank you, God.  Thank you for making me just as I am.  Thank you for coming to me in the Holy Spirit and giving me all that I need.  I set my sights on you, set my steps on your path, and eagerly anticipate today's journey by your side.

Amen.


I'm hooked on 31 Days of Rest... it's a great place for embracing God's grace.  Check it out...

16 | Inconsistent Training

Why is it so hard to give up some selfishness and gain some semblance of self control?  Do you struggle with this too?  Please pray with me...

Be imitators of God, therefore, as dearly loved children and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.

Ephesians 5:1-2

Dear Lord,

You know I'm working on self control with my dog.  [Sit.  Down.  Watch.  Leave it.  Aaaarrrgghhhh!!!!!!!!  Stop DIGGING!!!!]  And myself.  [Focus on God.  Quit the crabbies.  Breathe in peace.  Breathe out love.  Be STILL.]

And unrelatedly, or maybe not, I'm trying to recuperate from patellar tendonitis and get back into running and working out.  God, in your wisdom, this physical discipline is not a linear path, and orderly progression.  It's more like one step forward and two steps backwards, with lots of aches and added pounds in the process.  Can you give me some patience with this process?

Let's be honest.  I'm not doing a bang up job in any of these departments of self control.  God, I need your help.  I lift  these disciplinary efforts up to you.

Let's start with the dog.  There are so many passions piled into my day, and that is a blessing.  But I'm not consistent with training.  And it shows, especially in the 18" holes he's added to the yard, the garden.  Here's the sad thing: the pooch craves training.  He's glued to my side in furry puppy love and affection.  He wants my attention.  (God, give me a slice of that eager devotion for you, please.)  I'm just too scattered to spend enough time in that pursuit. 

And then there is the physical healing.  You've put great helpers in my path to recovery: my internist, an orthopedic surgeon, two physical therapists, a personal trainer, and now I've got another trainer/gifted healer lined up for a session of healing massage.  (Thank you for their gifts, for working through them toward healing.)  You've given me good health, but it's a package deal that comes with a hip that slides forward and knees that knock together and all kinds of alignment issues.  I've spent hours on the floor grimacing through postural restoration exercises.  Muscle engagement where I never knew I had muscles.  Small, excruciatingly hard movements.   So small that passersby comment: "Gee, that looks relaxing."  "Taking a break?"  Humph.  I want to break them.  In half.  (God, more patience please.  More kindness, por favor.)  Can you blame me for taking a big, neglectful break from the physical therapy routine?  Yeah, I thought you'd say that.  It's just so slow.  So hard.  The results are so hazy vague.  (Forgive me for whining.)

What I really need forgiveness for is my haphazard spiritual training.  Forgive me for prayers that wander and dissolve before Amen.  For times when I've let go and gossiped.  When I've let bitterness slip.  When I neglect the love letter of your Living Word.  When I've served up service with a side of resentment.  Forgive me for missed opportunities to pull my kids in close to talk about your unconditional love.  For focusing on my shortcomings instead of inviting your grace.  Your unconditional love is for me, too.

This morning — while walking/training the dog and engaging my core/working on hip alignment/tucking in my tailbone and praying — you gave me an epiphany.  You interrupted the skittering thoughts scurrying across my brain.  "But have you embraced any of these training efforts fully?  Truly and fully?"

No. 

Oh, I am ashamed, God, for kidding myself and disgracing you.  Forgive me for my haphazard efforts, my distracted devotion.  For thinking I'm giving you my all when I'm really holding back a big fraction of my self.  Forgive me most of all for trying to do too much (Dog training and walking and physical therapy and praying all at the same time?  Really?) instead of slowing down, focusing, and letting you help.

You are constantly there for me, constantly caring.  Help me to be that constant in my devotion to you.  Help me to be that disciplined in being true to the way you want me to live.  Train my tongue, my temperament, my time management.  When the urge to abandon self control looms large, pull me in close to you and your perfect way.  That is where I want to stay.

Amen.

14 | Peace Redux, or Irritable Mom Syndrome

Yeah, it's only been two days since I posted about peace, but I clearly need more help in this area.  I am so glad our God has oodles of patience, and then some!

It happens so regularly that it's predictable. The moment I decide to do good, sin is there to trip me up. I truly delight in God's commands, but it's pretty obvious that not all of me joins in that delight. Parts of me covertly rebel, and just when I least expect it, they take charge. I've tried everything and nothing helps. I'm at the end of my rope. Is there no one who can do anything for me? Isn't that the real question? The answer, thank God, is that Jesus Christ can and does. He acted to set things right in this life of contradictions where I want to serve God with all my heart and mind, but am pulled by the influence of sin to do something totally different. 

Romans 7:22-25 (MSG)

Dear Lord,

Hi.  It's me again.  I am praying that you will set things right in me, again.  I'm asking for help embracing your peace... again.  I know I had some of your peace around here somewhere.  But I've misplaced it.  Maybe it is with my favorite pen and my son's Indiana basketball shorts (no, this Badger fan did not throw them out!) and all kinds of things that get sucked into the mysterious black hole in our house.  Regardless, I need your help.

I slept poorly last night (though I'm grateful that is a rarity over the past couple weeks).  I didn't get a walk in this morning (but I thank my Mr. for taking the pooch out so I could snooze a little longer).  A certain dog-walking-hubby commented on my focus on Sudoku instead of the rest of the paper, setting of some latent guilt for not being more current on current events (and yet, having a lively mind that can work through a puzzle — in pen no less — is a good thing).  

And that's all it took for me to slide down into Irritable Mom (and wife) Syndrome.  Hounding happy kids to stay focused on breakfast.  Growling instead of laughing at Mr.'s jokes.  Barking at the dog glued to my side all morning.

Where was Wednesday's peace?  Where was yesterday's joy?  Aaaarrgghhhhhh.  Why can't I get it right for two days in a row?

Lord, forgive me.  Wash away the sin of my crabbies.  Clear my conscience of the guilt and frustration over setbacks.  All of this is so minor, but I don't want the minor to snowball into major ickytude, and I know that's where this will head if I don't pray about it now. 

The other day I prayed for peace in my home, in our world.  Feeling relatively peaceful, I prayed to share peace with others.  Today is different.  Today I need that peace.  And I know where I can find it, God.  In you and you alone.  Help me to be still.  Help me to tune into you.  Help me to dump my junk and take up your grace.  Write peace in permanent marker all over my heart, my words, and my actions.  Please.  So that I may be pleasing to you, and to those in my midst.

I'm hearing your call to pick up the Bible.  And slow down.  And breathe in the reassuring peace of your Living Word.  Thank you, Lord, for inviting me to live in close with you.

Amen.

I pray that peace is huge in your heart today.  And if it is not, I pray you find some time with God to get it back.

12 | Instrument of Peace

Dear Lord,

Everywhere I look, I find examples of stress, tumult, violence.  We live in a world torn and weary, desperate and struggling.  We need your peace.  Please play your peace on our hearts.  Soothe our scarred souls with your sacred song.

 

An Instrument of Your Peace

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace;
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master,
grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood, as to understand;
to be loved, as to love;
for it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.

Amen.

Francis of Assisi

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace today.  When sibling squabble, help me to lead them back to love.  When bullies torment, help me to build bridges of understanding.  When stress strangles, give me words of comfort and hope.  When anger boils over, show me how to put out the fire and pull pardon out of the ashes.

In all those areas I do not reach in my daily doings, I pray for your peace.  In our inner cities burdened with poverty, violence, drugs, despair.  In our struggling schools battling apathy, unfunded mandates, and increasingly diverse needs that outweigh ever-diminishing resources.  In war-torn countries.  In regions that don't respect everyone's civil rights.  In homes violated by domestic violence.  In hearts ravaged by mental illness.  In hospitals that cannot heal every hurt.

Oh, Lord, these cries for peace overwhelm me.  There is too much pain in this world.  Help me to remember that I can make a difference — a small but important difference — by embracing your peace and sharing it with those in my midst.  Help me to soothe my small corner of the world with your serenity.  Make your peace in me be contagious, catching on and calming those around me.  May these ripples of your redemption radiate and reach and relax so many stressed-out souls.  Breath by slow breath, pardon by pardon, hope by hope, prayer by prayer, may your peace conquer all.

Amen.

May the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.

Philippians 4:7 (AKJV)

Where did you find peace today?  Embrace God's serene grace, and pass it on.

3 | Confession [ 31 Days of Prayer ]

Confession + repentance = starting the U-turn back to God

Dear and Compassionate Lord,

Confession is hard.  I know I need to move beyond sweeping generalities and examine the nitty gritty of my flawed behavior, or my stained heart.  I know I need to see my sin clearly so I can leave it behind and turn back to you.

Here goes:

Forgive me for the many times each day that I neglect my relationship with you.  the prayers that wander off into mental "to do" lists.  The abandoned Bible Study reading.  The postponed quiet time.  The rushed or neglected prayers with my kids.  Ugh.  There is a hole in my heart as I recognize these missed opportunities to snuggle into your love.  Thank you for repeatedly forgiving these sins and continuing your patient presence in my life.

Forgive me for being crabby and irritable with my husband.  He deserves better.  Help me to overlook minor nuisancees, or better yet, to see them as reminders of his unique and charming personality.  (Empty Equal packets left on the counter = reminders of his sweetness that is never artificial.)  Help me to keep my sense of humor with him, not a list of pet peeves.  Help me to have a grateful heart for his love, not a list of grudges.  And remind me to plant a big, loving, romantic kiss on him at least once a day.

Forgive me for being impatient with my kids.  They are so young.  They do try their best.  I'm so sorry for all the times I fail to recognize their need to dawdle explore the nooks and crannies of their days.  I'm sorry for all the times I fail to recognize the warning signs of their stress or hurt and label their behavior as immature and self-absorbed tantrums.  I'm doubly sorry for all the times I get stuck in my thoughts or "to do" list when they need me to be available, interrupt-able, and present in the moment with them.  I'm triply sorry for the nasty-yelling-angry-psycho-mom that sneaks out when I'm at my wits end.  That hole in my heart is leaking ugly shame now...  And yet you forgive, you plug, you heal and cleanse.  Thank you for forgiving my many parenting mistakes, and for showing me your wondrous example of unconditional love.

There is more, Lord, so much more.  Neglected friendships, unanswered emails, ignoring the dog, avoiding a chatty acquaintance because I'm just not in the mood, illogical rantings in a highway traffic jam.  And that was just yesterday.  You see it all.  You know all my faults.  And you love me anyway.  

Thank you for your forgiveness and unconditional love.  Help me to see when I start to slip into sin.  Give me the strength to turn back to you.  Most of all, help me to accept your forgiveness.  Help me to embrace your grace.  Show me how to leave my sins at the foot of the cross, so you can cleanse my stained soul and direct me to your better path.  Show me how to be the child of God that you see in me.

That hole in my heart is shrinking quickly now, as I rest in your love.  Thank you for the healing touch of your forgiveness.

Amen.

If we make it our habit to confess our sins, in his faithful righteousness he forgives us for those sins and cleanses us from all unrighteousness.  

1 John 1:9 (ISV)