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

24 | Be at a Higher Altitude

You know how when someone asks you what animal you would be, if you could be any animal?  Doesn't it seem like most people fall into one of two categories?  There are the cute-fuzzy-loveable animal types who say "Golden Retreiver" or "Fuzzy Bunny" or "Itty Bitty Kitty Cat."  Then there are high-flying-give-me-freedom types, those who answer "Eagle" or "Owl" or "Turkey Vulture."  No.  Not turkey vulture.  No one ever says she wants to be a turkey vulture.

Today we are going to join those high-flying-give-me-freedom types.  We are going to rise up to a higher altitude, even though we are never going to leave the cozy position we've settled into for this quiet, still time with God.    

You are cozy, right?  Have you eased your breathing?  Are you letting the day's distractions fade away, far away into the background?  Deep inhaaaaaaale.  Gently hold that oxygen in your lungs.  Slow exhaaaaaaaaale.  And pause.

If you are sitting near a window to the wide world, look up at the sky.  (If not, you can gaze into the clouds of the picture below.)  Be in that sky, soaring up to heaven to visit our Heavenly Father.  Float on the currents until they carry you to the throne of God.  Then crawl up onto his lap and snuggle into his love and grace.  How's this for cozy?

revandy.org

Today we are going to imagine that we are physically close to God, sharing his view of the world and all that is beyond.  We are going to leave behind the errands that need to be run, the work that demands to be done, the stress and the strain that drain away our focus and our energy.  Lightened of our earthly burdens, we are floating up to heaven, leaning into our Lord.

If any worries cling to you, if any distractions try to drag you down, trust in the promise of Philippians 4:19.

517creations.blogspot.com

God will supply ALL your needs.  Anything that holds importance to God and to you— he will provide for that.  Caring for your loved ones?  Taken care of.  Making your home a safe and secure sanctuary?  All over that.  Succeeding in your work that benefits others and brightens a corner of the world?  Check.

via Pinterest

As we accept that God's got the details covered, as we gratefully acknowledge God is giving us this day's daily bread (and energy and rest and work and play — all those things that sustain and nourish us), we can fix our eyes on Jesus.  We can focus on fleshing out our faith stories that Jesus started writing when he came to dwell among us and die for us.

When our faith is our focus, when God Triumvirate is central in our scopes, we can truly soar at a higher altitude.  We can achieve a God-breathed perspective that delivers peace and everlasting joy.

spiritualinspiration.tumblr.com

This higher altitude coaxes us to measure our earthly experiences on a completely different scale.  Temporary happiness from earthly pleasures is good (I'm a firm believer that God loves ice cream and deep belly laugh) — yet joy in the Lord is infinitely more satisfying.  Terrestrial problems will continue to trouble us — but when our view of God looms large, our problems grow small in our sights.

taidyeoriginal.blogspot.com

When we are rooted in God's word and connected to God through prayer — through moments of intentional, spiritual stillness — we find the perspective, strength and resilience and to weather whatever it is that clouds our earthly atmosphere.  We find the power to soar above storm clouds and sit in God's lap, cozy and content, fueled by our faith and eager to be God's face in the world.

So before we float back down to our regular elevation, let's soak up the stillness at this higher altitude with a word of prayer.

Lord,

When I turn my eyes upon you, when I see my world from your heavenly elevation, the things of earth do grow strangely dim.  The light of your glory and grace gives me peace.  Strength.  Trust.

Thank you for this time to sit with you, to see things from your perspective.  Thank you for your standing invitation to rest and refuel in your presence.  I am grateful for the work you are doing in me through your Holy Spirit as I dedicate these moments to the practice of being still.  You have brought layers of depth and understanding to our quiet time together.  You have lifted me up higher as I have leaned into your love.

And as I rest with you, high on your love, spirits raised high, I get a stronger glimpse of how you want to use me as a road sign pointing others to heaven.  You, Creator of all, have created each one of us to do great work for you: to share your story and your glory.  Help me to hold on to that purpose and that perspective, no matter what happens at my earthly elevation.  I rest assured knowing you will guide me every step of the way.

Amen.

14 | Be Faithful

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

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

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

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

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

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

Huh.  Not a lot of faith happening there.

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

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

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

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

So why just one person in the pews?

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

everyday.Godinspires.me

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

imgfave.com

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

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

john-whom-Jesus-loves.tumblr.com

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

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

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

chattingatthesky.com

Lord,

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

via Pinterest

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

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

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

Amen.



More motivation for when you need faith...

Lysa TerKeurst always inspires me when I falter.

18 | The Gift of Kindness

I just spent the day subbing in the middle school I attended a long, long time ago.  I rounded a corner into the un-updated portion of the building, and 8th grade was staring me in the face.  Remember the awkwardness?  The social distress?  The nearly constant fluttering of nerves and insecurity?  I nearly had to check to see if I was wearing the "right" brand of jeans.  (Hmmmm.  I don't think I'd cut it in any clique wearing my "Tarjay Boutique" trousers.)

I can think of all kinds of spaces and places where we need to slather kindness.  Middle school is at the top of the list.  Which got me praying about this...  (Won't you join me?)

Let love of the brethren continue.  Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by this some have entertained angels without knowing it.

Hebrews 13:1-2

Dear Lord,

I'm dreaming of a world where there's a lot more kindness.  (I'm guessing you've got a dream like this, too.)  It's a world where kids don't bully to compensate for their own insecurities.  Where the label "stupid" doesn't exist.  Where drivers don't rage against the machinery of traffic.  Where colleagues don't undermine each other in the name of professional advancement.  Where siblings don't squabble incessantly.  (Can we start with my kids, please?).  Where selfishness doesn't suck the nice out of us.  (Ooops.  Scratch that request about my kids not squabbling, God.)  

It's a world where honor abounds.  Thoughtfulness thrives.  Blessings blossom.  Where we see the angel in everyone, and act accordingly.

This is the world I want my kids — all kids — to grow up in.  But am I always kind?  Hardly!  Am I succeeding in coaching my kids to constant kindness?  Not likely!  Am I equipping them to respond to meanness with resiliency and forgiveness?  Hopefully...

Lord, it's hard work, this kindness coaching.  Can you forgive may many unkind sins?  Can you give me a good example, so I can model myself on someone who has done a better job?  What'd you say?  Been there, done that?  Oh, yeah...

Jesus.

Look at all he did in three years of ministry.   Healed hundreds.  Fed thousands.  Taught slow-to-understand knuckleheads (Sorry.  Name calling.  I meant to say "disciples.")  Listened.  Forgave.  Touched.  Practiced patience.  Saved wedding parties when the wine ran dry.  Hung out with anyone and everyone, whether they were in his clique or not.  Forgave some more.  Patiently taught again... and again.  Took on all our sins.  Suffered graciously.  Conquered death.  Rose victoriously — for each and every one of our undeserving souls.  

God, you are really good at this providing examples thing. 

Is that a fair example, though?  I mean, Jesus is Jesus, and I am so, SO human.  Flawed, with a big fat "F."  I think it helped Jesus to be your kid when he was doing all that nice stuff.  The gene pool must have given him a big boost.  Guess I should just throw in the towel now.  Wait...  What's that you say?

I am a child of God, too.  Huh.  Named and claimed as one of yours in baptism.  Poured full of the Holy Spirit, if I'd just tap into that Godly grace.  

Can it really be that simple?  Well... NO.  God, I'm bound to get it wrong as much as I get it right.  But I know you have promised to be by my side as I try to walk your chosen way.  Thank you for being my Heavenly Father, for nurturing me, loving me, and forgiving me.  Thank you for showing me your kindness, even when I least deserve it.  I know in my heart you will refresh and restore me when I feel too weary to be kind to others.  You will point out the weary who need kindness when my cup is full.  Let your kindness gene be strong in me, so others see how nice it is to abide in you.

Amen.

May God's kindness brighten your corner of the world today, and may you radiate his kind light to others.

P.S.  Even though October is more than half over (how'd that happen?), you can still jump in on 1000 Acts of Kindness.  Check it out...

17 | Patient Perseverance

How is your patience-o-meter these days? Lately I've had more days in the red zone than I'd like to admit.  Care to join me in a prayer for patience?

Dear Lord,

You know I am a patient person when it comes to some things.  Tutoring and teaching.  Sewing and crafting.  Gardening.  You know I am not so patient when it comes to other things.  Coaching my own kids through homework hurdles.  Traffic.  Grocery check out lines.  Healing.  

I know you want me to be patient.  In all things.  Not begrudgingly, but with your loving patience.

God, one question:  are you the one who circulated the rumor that has been rolling around for a few centuries?  You know the one.  Good things come to those who wait.

Really?  Isn't technology pushing this kind of thinking into an archaic past?  In these days of instant messaging and constant contact, there is a cultural contagion of immediate gratification.  I certainly have been infected.  (When are you going to get off the computer, darling hubby?  I've got to check my emails right now!)  How gross.  Lord, insert your forgiveness here, please.

Okay, the relatively mature side of me recognizes that good things do happen to those who wait.  If I slow down and appreciate, I can count a few...

• Gazpacho chills on a hot summer day.
• Tempers calm.
• Bone marrow donors are discovered.
• Coffee brews.  Tea steeps.
• Tulips thaw, emerge, and bloom.
• Prayers get answered.
• God works wonders.

Thanks, Lord, for these slow blessings that force a patient wait.  Thanks especially for coffee in the morning, and the rich aroma that tickles my nose awake while I wake.  Thanks for that moment of pause and potency as I pour the first mug.  When I know that hot, steamy, strong and roasty caffeine is coming.  I know all will be right. 

Okay, God.  I know that the wait for a cup of coffee is not a very long exercise patience, even for this not-a-morning-mama.  But I want to have that same kind of caffeine-happy, hopeful, assured patience with the big stuff.  The limbo stuff that makes me loopy.  The hard stuff that hurts my heart.  The slow stuff that my soul suffers.  Because that is when something really good happens in the wait.  And that something is you.

If I can wait — calm and patient, positive and trusting — I know my faith will grow.  If I can release control and put my whole trust in you, you will make the waiting easier.  If I can step aside and let you work — in your time, your way — I can witness your wonders.  Lord, please form in me this calm and confident character, steeped in your strength.

And when that kind of patience seems too unattainable, remind me of your patience.  In your loving mercy, you wait for me.  To learn (so slow).  To grow (millimeter by millimeter).  To see in myself what you see in me (glimpse by hazy glimpse).  You wait and forgive, forgive and wait, and love the whole while through with your truly amazing grace. 

I'm going to hang on to your patient love when frustrated impatience tries to drag me down.  When the healing is too slow, the results too hard to see.  When the map for life's crossroads seems smeared and torn.  When the going gets tough.  Help me to endure the rough patches.  Help me to persevere.  To pursue through the severe.  Yes, that's it.  God, please give me the strength to pursue YOU through severe trials.

So do not throw away your confidence; it will be richly rewarded.  You need to persevere so that when you have done the will of God, you will receive what he has promised.

Hebrews 10:35-36 (NIV)

When I get anxious about the wait, I'm going to try and catch myself before I throw my crumpled confidence away.  I'm going to smooth it out, and read between the lines, focusing on your reward: peace, grace, walking with you into eternity. 

{ looky!  a free printable... for YOU!  from me! }

That is a blessed promise worth waiting for.  I'm going to frame it and focus on it until your answers come through loud and clear, which they always do, in your perfect timing.  Thank you, God, for your promise, for your answers.

Amen.

May you have the patience to wait for God's answers to the trials in your life, today and every day.