Wednesday in His Word | Transform

Welcome, Wednesday.  The midpoint of this week.  Upon its arrival, may we see progress towards our goals as well as the promise of rest from our labors.

But Wednesday is also the farthest point of time from our sacred Sunday stillness. Does the sermon still ring in our ears?  Or has the message been lost, drowned out by secular sidetracks?

I don't know about you, but by Wednesday I need a faith-filled refresher.  I need a deep dose of God's word.

And so, a new weekly installment in this part of Bloggyland appears.  Wednesday in His Word.  Stop by each week to digest Scripture slowly, savoring a passage and its portent for our daily lives.  I'll share a gem from my recent Bible reading.  Or I'll explore a verse of your choosing (just note it in the comments section on any given Wednesday).  Together we will unwrap God's message and unwind in his grace.

So if you have a week that wants to beat your down, or you want to lift up on wings like eagles, stay here a minute.  Let's read, reflect, and pray together.  Let's rest together in God's word.  Let's simply be, together, tended by our Lord.

Time to Transform

free printable from framedinfaith.blogspot.com

Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God's mercy,

Paul encourages each and every one of us to take a good, long look at God's mercy. By his love and grace, we are accepted, loved, and forgiven.  Just as we are.  Not because of who we are.  But because of whose we are.  God's children.  His kiddos. Adopted little ragamuffins, and he loves the fuzz off of us.  Like the story of the boy and his Velveteen Rabbit, God's love makes us real.  God's love makes eternity real for us.

to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God —

So, we are loved — deep and true and lasting — by our Heavenly Father.  What next? When we are loved, we can't help but reflect that love back.  And the best way to respond to God's love is to dedicate our lives on this earth to pleasing him.

This is where my mind starts to wander and worry.  Does that mean God can put me anywhere he wants?  A rural town?  An Asian village?  Antarctica?  Does that mean I'll have to give up my loved ones?  My comforts?  My life that I've carefully established?  Will I have to drop my figurative fishing nets and follow Jesus, leaving everything behind?

The more I learn about God, the less I believe those worries to hold any worth.  Let's go back to step one.  God loves us. God wants the very best for us.  He's not going to ask us to ditch our life-giving relationships, our meaningful work, or true joys and abiding passions.  He's going to use those things that are nearest and dearest to our hearts as a way for us to minister to others.

this is your true and proper worship.

Worship is more than a Sunday activity.  Yes, this communal, physical, and spiritual gathering with our brothers and sisters in Christ is key.  But it is just the beginning. True worship is filling our souls up in the sanctuary, then carrying that holiness in our bodies and out into the world.  Proper worship is finding ways — quiet and small or big and bold — to glorify God by the way we live.  It is where we use our passions and pursuits to point to our living Lord.

Do not conform to the pattern of this world,

When I think about living out my faith in ways that point others to God, I feel a bit bashful.  It feels right and comfortable in the church.  But talking to my neighbors? Shopping at the grocery store?  Collaborating at a committee meeting?  That's when the patterns of this world push me to put my faith back in the Sunday box, to keep quiet about Christ.

But if we are true to our faith, we can puncture the cultural patterns — like rushing or  shushing dissenting voices, like complaining or keeping up with the Joneses — by consistently exhibiting love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control  (Galatians 5:22-23).  Oh, yeah, that sounds easy.  NOT!  Oops.  There goes that conforming voice of this world.  Hey, Conformity, we've got news for you.  We don't have to conjure up these qualities on our own.  When we worship God, we receive the fruit of the Spirit.  When we walk alongside God, he fills us up and raises us up to more heavenly patterns.

but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.

This is where my hope grows huge.  Walking alongside God, getting filled up with the Spirit, setting my mind on those heavenly habits — these are not things I have to accomplish on my own.  God will plant new and better thoughts in my mind.  God will change my heart.  God will transform my ways.  And all for the better.  All I need to do is surrender.  Surrender my need to blend in so I can shine forth. Surrender my need to conform so I can proclaim God's grace.  Surrender my doubts and old habits so I can live, freely and truly, by Christ's example.  It's a daily practice, and one I won't perfect, but I can lean into God and trust in the process.

Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is, his good, pleasing and perfect will.

By committing to this practice of opening our minds, hearts, and lives for God's transformation, we learn what God wants for us.  We see his plan for how we can be his presence in the world.  We understand how we can please him by loving and serving others.  Our will aligns with God's will.  Our paths merge into God's higher road, and we walk alongside our Lord, experiencing the fullness of Christ.



Lord,

You are the epitome of love and mercy.  Thank you for naming and claiming me as your child, understood, accepted, and forgiven.  Help me to live my life in true worship to you, following in Christ's example of loving and serving others, of glorifying you.  And when this world pressures me to conform, help me to remember your better way.  Fill me with the fruit of the Holy Spirit.  Transform my habits and my attitude.  Show me, clearly and undeniably, your good and pleasing and perfect path.  Then give me the faith and the courage to follow it.

Amen

20 | Be Flexible

It's 1:19 a.m.  I don't typically wake up in the middle of the night and write.  But here I am.  Being flexible.

Funny how God nudges us into being sometimes.

My Mr. is in a state of stress at work.  For him, as for a lot of us, stress equals insomnia.  It doesn't take much to rouse him.  And once he's up, he's up for a good long stretch.  I'm sending up a prayer for him and his sleepless stress, and for all the insomniacs awake right now.  Peace and stillness, Lord, shower them with peace and stillness.  Gently drift them back into luxurious, rejuvenating sleep.

So here's what woke him tonight: our dog.  The third child.  The one with tons of shedding fur and the sweetest face.  For some reason, he's decided tonight is the perfect night to sleep outside.

Since I don't have to work tomorrow, er, make that today, I took over the challenge of getting the pooch back in the house.  Flexibility.  It's one of the gifts of my cobbled-together part-time professions.

And though I don't like being stirred from sleep by a restless dog or an anxious husband, tonight it has been a gift.

It's October.  Two-thirds into October.  Where I live that means frosty nights and forceful winds, a threat of snow, pulling out winter layers and piling them on over summer-thinned skin.

Not tonight.  Tonight we're enjoying the last flirtations with Indian Summer.  When I say "Indian," I say it with complete reverence for the indigenous peoples who love the land and its cycles and its surprises.  Who celebrate the last sighs of warmth before the earth goes to sleep for a long winter's nap.

So I sat on the front stoop, watching our pooch settle in the crisp oak leaves, a safe distance from my ploys to bring him inside.  I sat wondering at this nocturnal gift of warm winds, whispers from falling autumn foliage, a silent night overlooked by a sleeping world.  Sighing prayers of gratitude for the surprising gift of watching one contented dog nestle in to sleep among the scattered leaves.

Flexibility.  It takes life's surprises and stretches them into satisfaction.

Now that I've been nudged awake to celebrate this gift, now that the family pet has been persuaded to sleep indoors, lest he wake everyone again with the 5:00 a.m. arrival of the newspaper (hmmm, a digital subscription makes more and more sense), my own slumber plays hard to get.  And with a 31 Day blog challenge nipping at my heels, I write.

Flexibility.  It embraces life's opportunities and makes the most of them, with peace and gratitude, not begrudging groans.

I write this, and the irony does not escape me.  This feels out-of-body foreign.  For I have historically been the insomniac, recovered now with better diet and exercise, with gentler ways of being.  Traditionally I would be grudging and groaning against this early morning alertness.  Where does this flexibility come from?  What has forged this relaxed embrace of the uninvited nighttime interruption?

Only one answer makes sense.  This is a gift from God.  This is the Holy Spirit, getting comfortable and snuggling into my soul.  This is the moments of being still, of being me and humble before God, slowly and certainly coming to fruition.

When we rest in the Lord, the rest of life loses it's hard edges.  Grace embraces us and imbues us with resilience.  Flexibility.  It should be listed as a fruit of the Spirit.

free printable from sincerelysarad.com

I can see it fitting in, right between peace and patience.  When God grants those two gifts, we have the flexibility to take life's surprises and stretch them into satisfaction.

inspirationformoms.com

When we store up on stillness, God gives us the grace to wait on him with patience, to find peace in our places of limbo.  He brings us to a place in our faith that trusts completely, that leans in despite the limbo or the lack of immediate answers.  God grants us a flexible faith, like that of Ruth.

UnravelledDesign via Etsy.com

Remember Ruth?  She was one of the young, widowed daughters-in-law of Naomi. When there was no logical reason to stay with her mother-in-law, no hope for a the provisions of a future marriage, since Naomi had no other living sons, she pledged to stay with this woman of God.  There was no logical reason for Ruth, a member of the Moabites who were distrusted and disliked by the Israelites, to follow her mother-in-law back to her homeland.  But follow she did, with this pledge:

Your people will be my people and your God my God.  Ruth 1:16b  

Faith led Ruth into flexibility.  Her flexibility led her into a new marriage that produced a son, then a grandson, then a great-grandson named David.  And you know where the story goes from there, all the way to Christ.

Today let's settle into stillness.  Let's follow Ruth's lead and create space for our faith to make us more flexible.

Lord,

You and I both know I like to make my own plans, to lull myself into a false sense of control.  And we both know how well that turns out: one step forward, three step backwards, and a stumble off to the side.

drivingpeace.hubpages.com

Help me to stay on track, to settle down and be still in this moment with you.  I want to trust in you completely; I want to embrace your better plans with flexibility and faith.  Show me your way, Lord.  Use me in all my imperfection to make your power known.  Stretch me in new directions and novel ways so that I can live your good news out loud and glorify your grace.

Lord, in this moment help me to be still and listen to you.  Open my mind, my heart, my ears and my eyes, so that I may understand where you want me to be more flexible.  

Blessed is the one who listens to me, watching daily at my gates, waiting beside my doors.  Proverbs 8:34

As I watch and wait for your plans to unfold, show me where I can bend a little more in my habits, in my relationships, and in my work.  In the gospels I see Christ's example of being interruptible, accessible, and approachable, even when he most desired rest and seclusion.  Help me to adopt that kind of flexibility as a means of showing your loving kindness, as a way of being your hands and feet in this world.

via Pinterest

Lord, thank you for your twofold gift of flexibility.  Thank you for showing me that when I am willing to bend low or reach out to help others, they benefit from your love and I am blessed by serving you.  And in that bending, reaching, stretching to serve, you give me the gift of resilience.  I get better at bouncing back.  I am less apt to get bent out of shape.  I am shaped by your amazing grace.  

I am grateful that I can be still with you now, Lord.  I am grateful that in this stillness, you sustain me so that I can stretch and handle life's strains later in my day.  Be my faith and my flexibility, so that I may glorify you.

Amen. 

All I Want for Christmas...

You know the song; sing along...

All I want for Christmas is my sanity, 

some peace of mind, 

God's peace in my heart. 

All I want for Christmas is the grace of God, 

all wrapped up in a humble babyyyyyyyy...

But here is what I'm getting myself into so far this Christmas season:

• Special orders (thank you God and generous customers!) that are coming together more slowly than I'd like
• Christmas concerts in triplicate (yay!  Can't wait for "Peace, Peace" and the annual tears of joy and humbled, quaking, grateful heart)
• Visions of cookies to bake + worries over when we'll make them and deliver them to neighbors and friends (yummm...)
• Gatherings and fellowship at church and away times five and counting (I've got the joy joy joy joy down in my heart!)
• Familial gatherings with loved ones and carols and big happy hugs times five and counting (does it get any better than this?)
• Crochet and sewing and knitting projects in progress (one down, three on needles, two to go)
• Christmas cards in transit, pens in waiting for personalized messages (yes, we are stubbornly holding on to this old-fashioned and increasingly rare tradition out of love and affection for our family and friends)
• One box of Christmas village decorations still waiting to adorn the piano (but the tree is up and decorated!!)
• Nerves stretched thin and "to do" lists littering the house (Aiyiyiyiyiiiii!)

I thought I'd jot all that down and get it off my chest so I can release a little yuletide anxiety.  It's going to take more than that.  Time for prayer!

Oh, Lord.

Lordy, Lordy, Lordy.  Are you laughing at me yet?  How I always say I'm going to do less to make Christmas more in my heart?  And here I am, as busy and frantic as ever?  What a fool I am.  A foolish Christmas fool. 

Here's the only explanation I have: I am nutty in love with Christmas, and not just the trimmings and trappings and carols and cookies.  I am totally gaga over your gift: a little babe, born in a rustic stable, laid in a lowly manger.  Humble.  Vulnerable.  Coming to the world not in a burst of pomp and circumstance, just wrapped in love and miracle and hope.  Not for the leaders and the elite and the intelligentsia, but for everyone.  Every one of us.  Coming not to wield political power or military might, but to forgive, to love, to save.  Not for an earthly kingdom, rich and royal, but for a heavenly home, doors wide open to every believer.

It makes no sense.  You, God Almighty, coming into the world as a poor but perfect human, to walk with us and live with us and love us no matter what.  There is no other story — no other truth — that moves my heart and builds my faith like this one.

So forgive me for spinning crazy on Christmas.  Slow me down and center me, so that I can thoughtfully, meaningfully share this good gift of yours with my loved ones.  When I get nutty, nestle me in your peace.  When I'm going giddy gonzo, rest me in your grace.  When the words of the world — the "I should"s and "I need to"s and "Aiiiiyiyiyiiiii!"s — cloud my brain, clear my thoughts with your living Word.

These verses, in particular, give my heart a place to rest this Advent Season.  Thank you for putting them right in front of my eyes and writing them on my heart.

Amen.

For the grace of God has appeared that offers salvation to all people.  It teaches us to say “No” to ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright and godly lives in this present age, while we wait for the blessed hope—the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ, who gave himself for us to redeem us from all wickedness and to purify for himself a people that are his very own, eager to do what is good. 

Titus 2:11-14

God's grace

It is a free gift, no strings attached.

offers salvation 

He saves us, redeems us, fills our wholes and makes us holy.

to all people

He comes for every one of us, no matter how battered, how badly behaving, how ignored or endangered.

teaches us to say "No" to worldly passions

This includes the hustle and bustle and buying and busy-ing of contemporary Christmas.

It is time for self control!

to live self-controlled, upright and godly lives in this present age

Christmas is not for me to control or orchestrate; it is God's and God's alone.  My role is that of self-control, to limit what crowds out God so that come Christmas Eve there is plenty of room in the inn of my heart for the Christ child to reside and renew my soul.

while we wait

If I fill up my time and space with Christmas activity, am I really waiting?  I need some moments of stillness and silence, moments of empty before Christ fills, as only he can.

the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ

This captures Christmas for me — God appears on Earth, here with us, in human form as Jesus Christ.

who gave himself for us

And here we look to Easter, the second part of God's gift.  His presence among us on Earth is eclipsed only by his death and resurrection for us so we can abide eternally with God in Heaven.

to redeem us from all wickedness 

He saves us from all our faults and imperfections.  We can't do it, but he can, and he wants to, and he does.  Every day.

to purify for himself a people that are his own, eager to do what is good 

So, God, keep filling me with this eagerness, and provide me with the discernment to see the good that I should do and avoid the nice-but-not-necessary that clutters my Christmas heart.  Help me to respond to your good glory by glorifying you with good works... today and every day.  Again, 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...

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...

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.

15 | Working for Goodness' Sake

 Photo: Alfred Eisenstaedt

Time & Life Pictures/Getty Images

Jan 01, 1959

TGIF!  (Yeah, I'm cheating a little by posting twice today and getting a jump start on Saturday.)  The end of the work week.  The start of an indulgent weekend, which for this lady means a sewing bonanza with my sister and our friend while Mr. and the kiddos are out of town.  Wheeeeee!  (See why I wanted to work ahead?  More time to sew and socialize!  Yippeeeeee!!!)

As we unwind from our typical weekday work, let's pray about the wondrous work God has in mind for us.

We are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.

Ephesians 2:10

Lord, you have put me here on earth, in this family, in this corner of the world, to do some good.  I trust in your plan, though I don't see it clearly.

God, this world is littered with messages, ads, bulletins...  I'm trying to tune into your channel, to focus on your message.  Grant me your benevolent perspective.  Help me to see the needs of others before I see my own.  Show me how I can administer to the needs of others — how I can be your hands, your heart, your words.  I want to empty myself of my limitations and mistakes, and open myself to being a reflection of your peace, joy, and love.  But I cannot do this on my own.  Lead me with your Spirit, and show me the good works I can do to glorify you today.

I'm slowly realizing that your good works aren't always BIG works, but little things done with your super-sized love.  

Sometimes the works you have prepared for me seem menial, mundane.  Tending the home fires, the dishes, the laundry.  I am trying abandon my habit of doing these things in a grumbling, resentful fashion.  When I am in faithful frame of mind I count the blessings of active, creative children as witnessed in grass-stained jeans and paint-splattered shirts.  I praise you for the bounty of good food we eat as I scrape dishes and scrub pans.  I pray as I vacuum and dust and declutter, grateful for the comfortable home you have entrusted to us.

Sometimes the works you have in mind for me look and sound more like interruptions.  A daughter who NEEDS!!!!! some fabric scraps for her latest creation (and a little Mom Time & Attention in the crafty corner).  A son whose angry meltdown is a cry for some snuggly love that he's afraid he might be outgrowing.  A friend whose phone call is more than a social check in, but a plea for a accepting, listening ear.  Help me to see these interruptions as your nudge to do loving work in my family and among my friends.

Sometimes the works you have planned for me seem big, intimidating, even scary.  Like your call to pray publicly for 31 Days.  Your direction pointing me to teach in an inner-city school for six years. And then your redirection for me to be a stay-at-home mom.  Each time you supply the means and the encouragement right along with the mission.  I hear you in the positive comments from new and old friends who check out this blog.  I hear you in the mentors you have wisely placed along every daunting journey.  I hear you in my friends' nodding-bobble-head commiseration of I-too-understand-the-dark-and-frustrating-days-of-motherhood.

Thank you for the good works you have prepared for me to do.  I feel blessed that you have created a specific plan for me to share your light and your love in my corner of the world.  And I am grateful for all the help you provide along the way.  Make me an enthusiastic and successful executor of your good works.

Amen.

"We have not been saved by our works—we have been saved for His works!"

Beth Moore, Living Beyond Yourself

I hope you delight in doing God's good work today!

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.

13 | Spilling Joy

This week I'm digging into the fruit of the spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control (Galatians 5:22-23).  I need reminders — lots of reminders — to embrace the spirit's gifts and let them guide my outlook and my behavior.  Please join me in these prayers...

These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full.

John 15:11

Dear Lord,

I woke this morning to furry puppy love, a sprinkling of stars, and soft, fleecy cloud fingers stretching from the southern sky.  You poured joy into my I'm-not-a-morning-person walk.  And when I thought I was content all the way up to my eyeballs, I rounded a corner to — gasp — gaze upon a full and glowing pearl of a morning moon.  You filled me to overflowing.

Lord, help me to always be on the lookout for your gift of joy.  Help me to see it in the small and insignificant routines.  Help me to discover it in the unexpected.  Help me to turn setbacks inside out and find your joy woven in the detours and downturns of my days.  In the dastardly digging dog, muddy up to his armpits... a silly, licky, laughing bath.  In a frustrated homework session with my growing-up girl... an opportunity to embrace and celebrate confusion in route to learning.  In driving forgotten (!!) shoes to school... catching my son laughing, confident, social and comfortable in his classroom.

Lord, I choose your joy over depression, over foul frustration, over dark and stormy skies.  Some days it is the tougher choice.  Some days my grasp on your goodness slips.  Help me to be disciplined in a grateful attitude, a humble heart, a mind set on your righteous will and your perfect way.  Help me to trust in your goodness, which often looks so different from good fortune by earthly standards.  And when I grab hold of your joy, help me to magnify it.  Show me opportunities to share it with others.  Grant me opportunities to spill this joy and glorify you.

Amen.

May you be surprised by joy in unexpected places today.  And may it spill forth from you onto all those lucky people in your midst.

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.

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.