Five Minutes of Facing Fear

I'm joining Lisa-Jo and others in a five-minute flurry of writing about a particular word.  That's my kind of assignment: short and sweet.  Of course, I've got to bend the rules a bit.  Editing and revising are discouraged, but I can't help it.  The timer went off, but I had to finish my sentence, add a link and a photo, and tweak a line or two.  It's as raw as I get.  

Inspired to chime in to Lisa-Jo's Five-Minute Friday?  Check out the button below...

Afraid

My mind is blank.  The clock ticks.  Can it be true that I have no fears?  Sure, there is the occasional worry.  Will the kids come home from school with emotions and bones intact?  Will menopause and my daughter's teenage years clash like a perfect storm?  Will the money stretch to cover our dreams?  Will my son grow out of the whining stage?  Will I get off my butt and get to the gym today??

But fears?  Are there truly none?

Lord, what is it that I am afraid of?  What fears are holding me back? 

I'm in this place of limbo.  Stay-at-home mom with kids in school.  Substitute teacher on a part time basis.  Writing, but just scratching out the borders of an undefined project.  What is my purpose?  My calling? 

Deep breath.

I'm afraid to completely expose myself to God's will.  I'm afraid to ask the question of "What next?" — or scarier yet, "What now?"

But I just read a great piece by Kimberly at A Planting of the Lord about trusting God the way dogs trust us — assuming a submissive position, and rolling onto one's back to expose the fluffy, soft underbelly... for the promise of a good rub.

The Beginnings of Submission | A Planting of the Lord

I just love it when pooches do that.  All furry smiles and licks and love and trust and giddy wiggles.

As my Mr. says, dogs only do what works.

Why am I afraid that making myself vulnerable to God won't work?

Lord, fill me with the faith to flop down, belly up, and open myself up to your call.  Help me to trust you, to follow you, loving you with all my heart and soul and strength along the way.

Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in you. Show me the way I should go, for to you I lift up my soul.

Psalm 143:8

What's next for you?  Where do you need a little more trust in God and a little less fear?

God, be my guide...

Source: jameipangilinan.tumblr.com via Liz on Pinterest

All is quiet on the bloggy front...

Inspiration pulls me elsewhere.  Organizing the house.  Clearing the clutter.  Playing, snuggling, reading with the kids.  Creating a soft landing space and place for my busy Mister.  Teaching a little.  Working out a little.  But mostly being still... with God and with myself. 

Something in the new year suggests I'm on the verge of a change, a new direction.  So I'm simply listening, which is no simple task.

God's answer has yet to arrive.  Yet there is a delicious, comforting promise in the waiting.  Does the dormancy of winter find you waiting for something?  May God fill you with patience and hope.

For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.  

Jeremiah 29:11 (NRSV)

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.