What I Learned in October

Emily Freeman is a writer and an inspiring woman of faith.  She is also the soul and the brains behind her Chatting at the Sky blog, where she hosts an engaging, entertaining, and insightful linky party on a monthly basis.  The focus: what we've learned.

The teacher in me loves this.  We are never done learning.  The child of God in me loves this—taking the time to reflect on how the Holy Spirit is working in me and stretching me.  And this November, as I aim for a bigger and better gratitude attitude, I'm relishing the opportunity to lift up these learnings with praise and thanksgiving.  So, in no particular order, here's a random collection of what I learned (or relearned) last month.

1
It's dangerous to be a clumsy runner.  Tearing a hamstring hurts.  Limping home afterward does not produce my most positive prayers.  But God does not back away.

2
Injury aside, slow and steady physical therapy is a gift.  A good workout does not have to involve sweat to induce progress.  Patience, my young Padawan.  Hmmmmm.  I think this has applications beyond exercise and into spiritual stretching.

3
Shifting my mindset from blogging as competition (which left me feeling inferior and redundant) to blogging as online conversation and connection (which fills me with encouragement and insight) is something I should have done a long time ago.  Better late than never!

from ellierayne.wordpress.com, but Blondie's looked and tasted every bit as good.

4
My daughter is a better baker than I am.  I couldn't be more proud (and eager to sample)!

5
That said, I don't need to eat so much sugar.  Consuming sweets makes me feel like crap.  After a 14-day cleanse, I've learned I can live without sugar, caffeine, grains, or dairy.  In fact, I can live much better without those foods.

rotten to the core zombie costume — yikes!

6
Gone are the days of my cute little BallBoy dressing up like a sport-o or a super hero or a pirate.  He's into full-blown creepy gore.  I wonder if he's trying to get me ready to be the parent of teenagers?

7
I'm terrible at building a new habit.  Unless — I go public and have this foreboding sense of accountability hanging over me.  The answer to my sporadic daily quiet time with God?  Being still for 31 days straight, and publicly posting about it.  I love what doors this is opening in my conversations with my Heavenly Father.

8
Once I get a new habit going, I have a hard time letting it go.  Hence three updates to this blog today!



Lord, 

Thanks for all the ways you help me learn and grow.  Thanks for pointing out the positive in what first looked like setbacks, for pointing out the humor in what might otherwise seem horrible.

Amen.

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.

20 | Gentleness

I haven't been subbing a lot so far this year, so I am still looking for an early morning rhythm, a fluid routine to get me going on the days I teach.  Which means I'm quite the frantic bull in the china shop as I'm trying to get out the door.  And if anyone should try to coach me into a saner, softer place... Raaaahhhhhrrrrr!  (My poor, poor Mr.  Forgive me, Lord!  Forgive me, husband dear.)

This is just one example of the many places in my life I need some gentleness.  And so I pray...  Care to join in?

Your beauty should not come from outward adornment... Rather, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight.

1 Peter 3:3-4 (NIV)

Dear Lord,

Forgive me for racing around this morning, peevish and prickly.  Forgive me for my pinhole focus on myself, my agenda, my needs.  When I get like this, please soften my rough edges, Lord.  Please awaken my compassion.  Please spark my sensitivities.  Wash away my rudeness and fill me with your gentle spirit.

Lord, you made me a strong-willed, independent, first-born kind of gal.  I love that about myself.  And I hate it when that stubborn independence crowds out flexibility and responsiveness.  Help me to empty myself of all that I deem important in this fleeting moment.  Give me the strength to submit to your eternal perspective.  With your long and loving view comes a gentleness toward others, a willing to compromise and concede, to shave sharp corners.

Lord, you've shown me how to love myself, to pat my own back, to tune in to my talents and use them for your glory.  But keep me humble, dear Lord.  Help me to see others in their best light.  Keep my ego from coercing gentleness into a corner.  Remind me that the first shall always be last in your lasting kingdom.  Help me to be a humble servant who gently nurtures the faith and growth of your blessed children, my brothers and sisters in Christ.  

Lord, you've shaped me as a teacher.  Shape me as a learner, too.  Give me an open mind and heart to learning your better way.  Help me to see the teachers you place in my midst, and to welcome their wisdom, especially when I'm convinced I'm right.  Show me how I can grow in your love and in your word.

Gentle Breeze Photograph by Lyle Huisken

I thank you, Lord, for the wisdom Beth Moore imparts about gentleness as the "inward grace of the soul," a "calmness toward God in particular."  Clothe me in that gracefulness, that calm.  I want to center myself in your gentleness.  I want to lean into you, into your will and your way.  I am trying to give up fighting you in that sneaky way of boxing you into Sunday and being my own boss the rest of the week.  Be my boss, Lord, each and every day.  Lead me.  Humble me.  Teach me.  So that I may abide in you and reflect the beauty of your gentle spirit to everyone in my midst.

Amen.

I hope you get a chance to tune in to the gentle, inward grace of your soul and our Lord today.

Learning Peace

Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.

Matthew 11:29 (NIV)

Aaaaaahhhh.

Rest for our souls.  

Doesn't that sound utterly delicious?  I'm so craving rest for my soul after a whole month of crashing  into the school year.  As a family we've been coercing teaching the kids to take on a bit more responsibility for getting ready for school, practicing piano, taking care of the house.  We've been trying (desperately, unsuccessfully) to train the dog out of his digging and into a reliable, consistent response to our "come" command.  We've been adapting to increased work demands for both the Mr. and myself.  And, just for fun, I've been painting the exterior of the house.

I am worn.  I am weary.  My heart doesn't feel so gentle or humble.  My soul feels rather ragged.

That is, until I tune in to God.  When I pause my day and look to my Lord for some eternal learning, I find rest.  Sweet, glorious rest.

Did you get a chance to do that today?  I hope and pray that is the case.

We all need that peace, that dose of the heavenly to restore our humanity.  But finding a piece of time—a shred, a mere morsel—for a good dose of God... that is so terribly difficult.

I've learned that I need frequent visual reminders that point me to God.  So I wedge Bible verses in my wallet.  I cram crumbs of Corinthians on the calendar.  I tape tidbits from Timothy near the toilet (yes, it's embarrassing where a fondness for alliteration will lead me...).

This is my quest to subdue all the noise and distraction of this earthly world with God's wisdom, word, and will.

Here is a morsel for you.  Print, post, and ponder.

And as we turn to God's word, we need to give ourselves permission to pause and let his peace wash over us.

Relax.  

Breathe.  Let's release the worries of distractions of this world before we enter the Bible.

Read.  

Slowly.  A little bit at a time.  Studying one verse carefully can be more powerful than skimming a whole chapter.  Reread and let it soak in.  I  like to mull over words that resonate with me.  Sometimes I memorize bits that give me guidance for guidance and sustenance. 

Reflect.  

We all know the saying: in one ear and out the other.  With reading it's in one eye and out the other.  To make it stick, let's revisit our good study habits from our youth.  That might mean writing or thinking or talking through what we've read.  Consider a) where God is in the passage, and b) where this passage fits into our daily lives.  What is the deeper message God has for you (yes, He's talking to you personally!) in this bit of the Bible?

Respond.  

This one is hardest for me.  For years I studied the Bible like a textbook and analyzed it academically.  But I missed a ton.  Then someone encouraged me to read the Bible like a love letter from God, an invitation into a relationship.  I was floored.  God wanted to talk to me about this stuff?  He wanted to help me through it and work on it together?  What a difference it makes to pray to God about what we read in the Bible!  When we pose questions, thank God for insights, pray about how to put his words into our lives—when we do these things something wondrous occurs.  The Living Word lives in us.  It takes root in our hearts and branches out through our actions.  It bears glorious fruit.

Lord,

It seems only fitting—in this autumn season—to turn over a new leaf and harvest the fruit of your Living Word.  As we open our Bibles, let us open our minds and our hearts to your teaching and your everlasting peace.  Let us find rest for our weary souls in your word.

Aaaaaahhhhmen. 

P.S.  Looking for more Bible verses?  Check out the well VERSEd page of this blog.  Feel free to add your favorites!

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.