23 | Be(low). Be Humble.

It's Day 23 of this series: 31 Days to Be Still.  More and more, after my moments of stillness with God and with you, I wander off and roam the blogosphere.  I'm enjoying discovering other blogs participating in this challenge, to the point where exploring other series almost eclipses my own endeavor to be still.

And the more I read, the more I am humbled.  I'm discovering great writers. Amazing stories.  Soul stirring inspiration.  What on earth can I add to this online conversation that is unique?  How does my voice point people to God — to deeper relationship with God — in a way that doesn't duplicate or sadly shadow these other blogs and voices?

Humble?  Yes.  Helpful?  No.

This kind of I'm-not-worthy humility obliquely questions God's particular plan for me.  It undermines his power to work in me and through me.

Do you ever struggle with these insecurities?  This imposter syndrome of "How did I get here and when is someone going to figure out I don't belong?"

Today we're going to ditch this humble, fumbling internal monologue.  We're going to trade it for a better kind of humility.  A different kind of being low.  Not low on the totem pole, beneath other people, inferior.  This humility is being below God, in a servant stance, under his loving care and direction.  

iwilltrustinyou.org

He must increase, but I must decrease.  John 3:30

In order for God to make bigger and bolder and brighter changes in our lives, we must diminish our insecurities and our ambitions.  We must trust God to create a meaningful impact in our hearts and our lives.  We must recognize that his power and his vision are greater than our own.

lizzylee via Flickr.com

We need to admit that we don't know everything.  Like the lost and frustrated traveler on the highway of life, we need to pull over to the gas station, rest and refuel, and ask God to straighten out our course.  When we call out to God in our need for answers and directions, he can show us the mighty things we can't even begin to imagine.

asundayafternoon.com

Look at this list of imperfect heroes.  Consider what God achieved through each one of them.

We need to admit our faults, but not beat ourselves up for them.  God didn't make us perfect for a very important reason.  In our flaws, God can flow.  God takes our cracks and fissures and shines his brighter light through them.  His grace makes us whole, makes us better than we could ever be on our own.

This kind of reverential humility is the best freedom we can know.  All we need — all God needs from us — is to be still.

In this God-honoring humility, let's still our hearts and minds.  Let's slow down, breathe deep, and focus on his supreme will and way.

Lord,

You know I have a tendency to put pressure on myself, to compare myself with others, to end up feeling of inferior and insecure.  But you are never disappointed in me.  

As long as I keep my focus on you, you can take my deficiencies and use them to proclaim your proficiency.  As long as I recognize my limitations and turn to your limitless wisdom, you can show your perfect power through my imperfections.  Help me to dwell in this relaxed humility of holding you supreme.

So today I ask this: How I can help bring about your will, Lord?  I give you my stuttering voice, my laughing doubt, my inexperience and my mess.  I trust you to fill the gaps and cracks in my abilities.  

I am low.  Humble.  Flawed.  But I am not insecure.  Instead, I stand secure in knowing that you, in your power and wisdom, can lift me up to do your good work.  

When I lay myself low before you, Lord, when I release my doubts and anxieties and trust in your glory and might, that's when I can truly be still.

I need to repeat that, to print that on my heart.  When I rest below you in humble adoration, I. can. be. still.

I can wait, with patience, for you to complete a good work in me.  I can rest knowing you can take me the rest of the way.

Thank you for this reassurance, Lord, this rejuvenation that comes from humble stillness.  Thank you for taking worries and insecurities off my shoulders.  Thank you, most of all, for lifting me up from my low position with the promise of eternal life alongside you in heaven.

Amen

24 | The Right Way to Righteousness

Dear Lord,

I keep bumping into this word, "righteousness," in my Bible reading, in my daily wanderings.  Help me to sort out what you are trying to tell me.

I have to admit, God, "righteousness" rankles me a bit because of its current connotation.  This word is used differently now.  Abused.  Righteousness has a connotation of lording personal wisdom and good works over others.  It is condescending.  Judging.

Ick.

Gracious God, I don't want to lord my goodness (what little there is of it) over others.  You are the only  Lord, the Lord of all.  And your goodness supersedes my feeble attempts!

Through Jesus you show us again and again that righteousness isn't about lording judgments over others.  It's about loving others for the goodness inherent in them.

Righteousness isn't high and mighty.  It is humble.  It isn't leading by avowals of right and wrong, but leading by modest examples of your grace and forgiveness.  Righteousness doesn't point back to me, it points up to you, to the source of all that is right.  Righteousness doesn't put others down; it lifts others up. 

I like how Jesus lays it out, surprising his disciples with this paradox:

"Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all."  

Mark 9:35

Paul puts it another way...

Therefore encourage one another and build up each other, as indeed you are doing.

1 Thessalonians 5:11

This makes sense.  This feels right.  This is how we experience Christ as we walk this earth.  In giving to others we receive the greatest gift of all.  Christ and the Holy Spirit flow through us, building us up as we serve others.  God, help me to sustain others and build them up, just as you do for me.  Help me to see the right thing to do to glorify you, and to do that with humility.

Amen.

May you walk with our Living Lord today in his path of humble righteousness.  May your encouragement of others build up your spirit at the same time.

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.

2 | Adoration [ 31 Days of Prayer ]

Lord and Loving Creator, 

I am ever and always amazed at your brilliant designs. The cool of a desert canyon floor.  The music of a child's laughter.  The artistry of a foggy sunrise.  The endorphin thrill of a long run.  The warmth of a loving hug.  The infinite wisdom of your will and your way.

As I pause and focus solely on you, I am awed by your goodness.  All things are possible for you.  And of all things, you choose to love—unconditionally—flawed and feeble humankind.  You set the stars in motion, and you stop to listen to our prayers.  You know the order of all the days of all time, and you know the inner workings of each heart, mind and soul.  Of all the things you can have, you WANT to be in deep and abiding relationship with us.  Heavenly Father, I am humbled that you claim me as your child: chosen, forgiven, and loved.  Thank you.

Today I pray that I continue to see your amazing grace in all things.  Help me to share this adoration with my family, to reflect it in all I do.  May this reverence shape my day and guide my ways, to glorify you, my living, loving Lord.

Amen.

Theology of Dried Up Markers

I have had to control the urge to buy Brand New Juicy Markers no less than six times this Back-to-School season.  (Having just purchase a 50-marker pack this summer, that seemed more like a Greed than a Need.  Bummer!)  What is it about those perfect tips?  Those strong and flowing colors?  That packaged promise of new and artistic creations?

We love markers at our house.  But we also have a thing for dying and dried out markers.  It’s this kind of thing:

Retired marker cup

It's become our Enviro-Friendly, Upcycled, Repurposed Gift Giving craft of choice.

Tutorial

You need:

• About 12 to 20 dried markers
• One clean and tin can, stripped of its label
• A piece of ribbon, about 10” long
• A hot glue gun. 

1.   Glue each marker around the base.   Start by laying down a one- to two-inch horizontal bead of glue and putting two or three markers in place at a time.  It helps to keep the can on the table and make sure the marker bottom is flush with the bottom of the can.  

Note: If you are a perfectionist, God help you, and get a rubber band so you can do a dress rehearsal of how the markers will fit around the can.  That way if you have a gap at the end you can play with using markers of various sizes to fit the circumference better. 

Another Note:  If you are a math major, you could probably figure out an equation for x pens =  pi * can’s radius to determine the quantity and diameter of the pens that you will need.  But you should really put your problem solving skills to slowing the world’s climate change problem instead of extrapolating a mathematical formula for crafting… 

2.   Anyway, once you get your markers glued on, find a colorful ribbon, tie it in place over a glue got or two, and voila!  You have the perfect teacher appreciation gift. 
 
3.   If you want to earn bonus points or redeem yourself after forgetting homework and Media Center books all year, throw in a batch of pencils and a cute tag.  A+++!

All this thinking about markers and assessing our dwindling stash of dried out relics got me reflecting on the Theology of Dried Up Markers.

In baptism, God makes us—his markers in the world—fresh and juicy receptacles of his flowing Holy Spirit.  And that is very, very good.  But if we don’t keep our caps on tight by staying connected to God and his Living Word, our ink—our ability to color our world with God’s vibrant love—will dry up.

And we do dry up.  We are human.  Flawed.  Imperfect.

But that is not the end of the story.  (Amen to THAT!)  God doesn’t toss us out when we wander away from him, distracted by earthly things, forgetting our caps under the craft table, neglecting his word and his will.

He waits.  And he works.  And more often than we realize, he brings us back to him, taking his dried out, crusty, errant children and rejuvenating us.  We might not be revived with a miraculously never-ending ink supply.  But we might be gathered in fellowship with a bunch of other flawed Christians, set into a new place with a new purpose, and lovingly shared with the world.  With a bow around us, to boot!  Talk about being born again as something better!

I don’t know about you, but sometimes I fear that being made anew in Christ means changing who I am.  That’s hard.  I like who I am.  If I change in Christ how does that change my relationships with loved ones, the joy I get from favorite pastimes, the comfort of my current life?  When I’m stuck in this thinking it helps to remember that God doesn’t replace me or completely remake me.  He takes what I am and makes it better.  He connects me to others in a new way, in a new purpose.  He works beyond my original size and shape and dreams up something far more colorful than I could ever imagine.

It’s like Ann Voskamp said in a recent webcast (I paraphrase…): As Christians we say “Yes” to who God is.  We also say “Yes” to who God says we are.  He says we are forgiven.  Renewed.  Made clean.  Made whole.  Loved unconditionally and eternally.  God says our crusty emptiness counts no more.  He says we are each a lovingly chosen receptacle for his grace.  A clay jar.  A dried up marker.  And he uses us and only he can.

This is what I take away from learning God’s lesson about the Dried Up Markers: I’ve let go of stressing over the ruts and dry spots in my faith journey.  I’ve let go of my imperfections.  I turn my eyes back to Jesus.  I revive my habits.  And I wait for God to work me into his latest and greatest craft project. 

Thanks, God, for being our Divine Creator, for making me new in you.

Amen.

P.S.  If you have any dried up markers lying around your house that you don’t plan on using, send them our way.  The glue gun and tin cans are waiting!

Attitude Shift

My Mr. has been traveling for the past week. This is not the norm for us, and it wears on the kids and me. To put it mildly, I've taken on a Mommy Dearest persona more times than I care to count. It was ugly. It pained me. It hurt my kids.

Sure, I got plenty of opportunities to model apologizing to my kids. I prayed a lot. ("Help me, help me, HELP MEEEEEEE!!!") I was humbled. But I still wish I could do it all over again, these flimsy silver linings aside. After some serious mental self-flagellation, God led me to this verse this afternoon:

Finally brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable – if anything is excellent or praiseworthy – think about such things.
Philippians 4:8

Huh. So, it's not such a good idea to dwell on my mistakes? It's better to think positively? Time for an attitude shift. I was tired of being Mommy Dearest, so I channeled June Cleaver (minus the pearls and the pumps).

Today I found a book I thought Petronella would enjoy. I read and napped with Paco. I picked up after the kids, thanking God for their laughter and play instead of grumbling about their oversights. I made chocolate chip cookies. I bounced between assisting Petronella and her buddy with their playdate adventures, and giving Paco some individualized attention. I defied my usual temptation to try and get something crossed off my to-do list. I ate a couple chocolate chip cookies. Mmmmmm.

It felt good. It wasn't all smooth sailing. Petronella had some verbal venom to spew. 
Paco  felt left out and whiney. But I stopped myself before I opened my mouth. I asked WWJD? ...thinking of both Jesus and June. I mostly stayed calm, cool and collected. I kept looking for whatever was noble, right, pure, lovely, etc. God helped me a ton. Thanks, Big Guy.

Thanks, too, to my favorite sitter, who showed up fifteen minutes early for a babysitting appointment that I totally forgot I had scheduled to give myself a break during Mr.'s absence. But instead of beating myself up for my lame brain, I just said, "Time to take more fish oil tablets!" And I thanked God for pleasant surprises.