Promises, Promises

I was reading Hebrews 11 the other day.... The Hall of Faith. It struck me again, as it always seems to do, that those mentioned believed God. Most never saw the Promise fulfilled, but they believed Him for it anyway. Driving through a horrible storm last weekend, I reflected on the quickly changing circumstances of life. We really don't know what our days or our tomorrows hold. But, He does. I've rested in that reality for months now and here He has me, sitting with the truth again.

On the drive, the storm finally passed and there they were--two rainbows brilliantly displayed across the sky. I remember saying, "You keep Your promises; You keep Your promises." Tears filled my eyes as I reflected on a prayer a friend prayed over me in early June before I left for my summer assignment. Not knowing why, she asked God to fulfill the promises He had given me. Her prayer struck a deep chord and I cried. I told her, "That's so in line with what He's been asking me to trust Him with again--thank you for listening and praying that for me."

Honestly, I've allowed that 'thing' -- remembering what He wants me to remember -- to fall to the wayside this summer. He provided a storm and a double rainbow (not to mention a Journey song playing on the radio in that *very* moment-- "Don't Stop Believing'" -- it likely sounds so silly, but a dear friend of mine declared that as our theme song this spring for a number of reasons...) to remind me that I'm supposed to remember. He wants me, in the same way as those people in the Hall of Faith, to believe Him.

Why is it so hard to do?

None of those individuals were able to choose the outcome of their belief. They were simply faithful in their belief.

Period.

I'm struck by their, well, for lack of a better word, FAITH.

So here I am in Colorado waiting on Him, trying not to push the hard things away, listening, remaining hopeful, seeking to be open, and believing that He keeps His promises.

Summer Night Reflections in Colorado

Were it not for grace
I'd walk in vain

Were it not for hope
I'd think this was Home

Were it not for love
I'd stay the same

Praise God Who IS
I'm not alone

I Almost Gave In Today...

There have been subtle moments over this past week that have brought me back to the place of proof.

"Provide proof that you're worth it."

"Provide proof that you know what you're doing."

"Provide proof that you have something to offer."

"Provide proof that being where you're at in the process is enough."

"Provide proof that you're in this with them."

I feel taxed reading that list. These are the messages--in my head and in my heart. Something inside of me stirs in the reading, hearing, living of these things--weariness. Each sentence loads another baggage of burden on this back of mine that's still in route to healing. Internally, the weight crushes my hope and I loose my ability to really see under this pressure. And, I almost decided to be blinded by these fiery darts today.

Sitting in a meeting this afternoon, I felt my heart waver as the load increased. I wanted to flee. I literally imagined myself running from the room. My face fell and I could feel it happening. I felt unseen, disconnected and wondered why I was there. Then I saw it--I understood what was happening to me. I prayed.

"God, this is the me from a short while ago. I know that I'm Yours. I know that I'm loved. I know that I don't have anything to prove here. And, it doesn't matter what is seen... I know I belong to You."

I'd like to say that I felt complete freedom, but I didn't. A minute later, however, someone spoke up and brought me in to the conversation. Kindness. Grace. Mercy for the moment. Yet, it was very hard to receive. Unknowingly, almost absently, I had already maneuvered myself away; the walls came up instinctively.

And now I sit here, recognizing it. I've actually been positioned under these statements as they've been building, one upon the other, for seven days. In a way, I have bought in, but there's a gift in here to be realized... I saw it today. I understood. The scales fell. I asked for help. He provided a piece of grace. And then, with fresh eyes, looked back on the burdens of the week and 'got it'. 

I Came Home Today...

Never could I have imagined the way that this place, my current hometown, might have weaseled its way into my heart. In fact, just a couple of weeks ago, my parents reminded me of my attitude toward the place when I was newly a 'resident' (I put that in quotes given my thinking that this was only a 10-month assignment away). Dislike would be a generous way of saying what I communicated to them during that season. And, funny enough, I don't even recall what I felt or thought at the time. I was angry at the world back then.

Today, having been working on location for almost a month, I felt almost giddy arriving at the airport. My flight was delayed (isn't that how it should go) and my anticipation of stepping onto the soil of what I like to term my "tropical" homeland grew. How I've missed it! Not just 'it', I suppose, but them, too. I've missed my friends, my house, neighborhood, routine and even that heavy, humid air. Longing has replaced my groaning for direction and clarity--desire to be here, fully present in my life in this way. I mean, I was excited driving on the tollways for goodness sake!
 
Equipped with only a few days before I fly back to my work, I plan to soak this up and rest in the present reality that I'm loving my life these days. The funny thing is, it's so unexpected to relish it as I do, but at the same time, it seems to make perfect sense. Like most humans, I imagine that I don't really understand what it is that I need, yet here I am, living in the midst of what I need. Leaving it again will likely serve only to increase my appreciation. What a sweet, sweet gift He's given me in this life...

I'm supposed to be finishing a Field Guide right now...

At least I've made a few notes? Tucked away in my office for the summer, everyone else seems to have gone. My energy is low and the week has been long, but I'm celebrating (and it's not even Friday!). I've seen something in myself these past two weeks that I'm astounded by and gratefully embracing... I am depending on Him.

This is new for me in my work life. I have chosen to stop, to rest and to let some things go.  New eyes are seeing with fresh perspective that I do not have to carry it all, nor can I, and I take joy.

There's a certain sadness in the backdrop of my days that has nothing to do with life here and now. Even in that, I'm resting. He's showing me His love, faithfulness and kindness in that place. What's more, I am choosing to receive it.

And, in His goodness, He has entrusted me with the care of some pretty remarkable people. Both friends and colleagues, in fact. I'm savoring the moments where I realize that I'm not where I once was and those things, the yucky things, that He has brought me through have allowed me to speak to places in the lives of others that I could not have understood had it not been for the mess.

Wow.

It's the Small Things

At the end of another long, but good day that has left me with some important things to consider, I felt a pull to take a moment to engage in today's devotional from Joy & Strength (compiled by Mary W. Tileston) in spite of my weariness. This last entry of five for June 16 was the perfect, most timely reminder:

"I hope you will learn, what I am always hoping to learn, to rejoice in God continually, knowing that He is really ordering all your circumstances to the one end of making you a partaker of His own goodness, and bringing you within His own sympathy."

--Thomas Erskine--

I needed these life-giving words tonight... Badly.

Why Are We So Afraid of Being 'Found Out'?

Truly, it's scary stuff to open ourselves up to being known. What if they don't like what they see? What if they discover things about us of which we ourselves are unaware? What happens then?

Last night, Cole began a new series called, "Fully Mature"--in the opening dialogue, he talked a lot about spiritual infancy. There is a place in life to be an infant. We all start there, after all. We come into the world dependent and needy. Actually, we leave much the same (if afforded a long life). Yet, spiritually speaking, we encounter challenges if we remain in infancy. We are pre-occupied with ourselves and we lack discernment.

I'm certain that we've all injured people in our immaturity and have also been on the receiving end. No fun. In fact, quite painful, really. Thinking about this more today, I wonder, "Why do we avoid seeking to grow in maturity when we see or learn that we're hurting others in a particular area of life?" I mean, what's in it for us?

As I've been considering the need in my life to become even more vulnerable, I understand the hesitation to really go 'there'. Dealing with our pain (especially when we've completely disconnected from it) is frightening, but it's also completely necessary to our health and healing. To blame-shift the responsibility away or ignore that there is a problem will only lead to further wounding of ourselves and others. Is that a risk we're willing to take?

Cole continued to remind us last night that we must choose into vulnerability before God and people in order to grow in maturity. I like to think of this as growing in wholeness. God wants us to be whole people! Fully restored, healed, living in freedom and equipped to bring His love and His light to the lives of people around us. I want to be that kind of person... Who's with me?

Safe, Safe, Safe

I cannot get over the goodness of God. The way He continues to speak directly to my fears, my lack of trust (in others and, this might sound strange, in myself --not belief in myself, rather a trust that I can be confident in two specific areas in life presently) and my longings is completely remarkable. Today, He led me here...

Psalm 16 continues to reinforce the message He has been telling me for months--He's got me! I'm safe!

I cannot hear it enough right now.

Psalm 16

A psalm of David.

 ¹ Keep me safe, O God,
      for I have come to you for refuge.
 ² I said to the Lord, “You are my Master!
      Every good thing I have comes from you.”
 ³ The godly people in the land
      are my true heroes!
      I take pleasure in them!
 ⁴ Troubles multiply for those who chase after other gods.
      I will not take part in their sacrifices of blood
      or even speak the names of their gods.
 ⁵ Lord, you alone are my inheritance, my cup of blessing.
      You guard all that is mine.
 ⁶ The land you have given me is a pleasant land.
      What a wonderful inheritance!
 ⁷ I will bless the Lord who guides me;
      even at night my heart instructs me.
 ⁸ I know the Lord is always with me.
      I will not be shaken, for he is right beside me.
 ⁹ No wonder my heart is glad, and I rejoice.
      My body rests in safety.
 ¹⁰ For you will not leave my soul among the dead
      or allow your holy one to rot in the grave.
 ¹¹ You will show me the way of life,
      granting me the joy of your presence
      and the pleasures of living with you forever.

(Thanks Bible Gateway for this NLT version of this Psalm!)

Beautiful by Phil Wickham

While doing fairly normal and mundane tasks this afternoon at one of my favorite non-office spots--clearing my corporate ministry expenses and cleaning out the mess that is my inbox--this song streamed across my Pandora station. I was reminded to continue to hope, persevere and look to that day (though, I don't think it's tomorrow like that one guy is saying : ) ). I cannot wait to see Him face-to-face... Sweet moments with Jesus in this not-so-ordinary day living life with Him...

If you've never heard this song, it's a must listen! Here's the live version via YouTube:



Beautiful (lyrics)
by Phil Wickham

I see Your face in every sunrise
The colors of the morning are inside Your eyes
The world awakens in the light of the day
I look up to the sky and say
You're beautiful

I see Your power in the moonlit night
Where planets are in motion and galaxies are bright
We are amazed in the light of the stars
It's all proclaiming who You are
You're beautiful, You're beautiful

I see you there hanging on a tree
You bled and then you died and then you rose again for me
Now you are sitting on Your heavenly throne
Soon we will be coming home
You're beautiful, you're beautiful

When we arrive at eternity's shore
Where death is just a memory and tears are no more
We'll enter in as the wedding bells ring
Your bride will come together and we'll sing
You're beautiful, You're beautiful, You're beautiful

I see Your face, You're beautiful, You're beautiful, You're beautiful
I see Your face, You're beautiful, You're beautiful, You're beautiful
I see Your face, I see Your face
I see Your face, You're beautiful, You're beautiful, You're beautiful

To Tell The Truth

My small group just finished our study of II Samuel tonight and I thought I'd post what I related to most about this narrative... We've been studying both I & II Samuel since August--a super rich endeavor! On to the thoughts:

There is a low-grade sadness I experience as I view the life of David in this book of the Bible. There is no doubt that he has an intimate relationship with God--David knows God. But, as we see David stepping out of God's best for him (by sending the troops off to battle without him) and the ensuing adultery with Bathsheba, plotting the murder of Uriah, her husband (once David discovers that she is pregnant with his child), death of their baby boy and the other consequences God issues for David's family life thereafter, we see a man who, in the wake of these circumstances, chooses passivity on a regular basis.

As a woman, there is something that stirs inside of me in the face of passivity. It's not pretty. I want to take control. Welcome back to the Fall... And, from my birds eye view thousands of years after-the-fact, I find myself feeling rather angry at David for his inaction when it comes to his family from this point on in the story. He seems to give up on fighting for them.

He doesn't stand up for what's right when one of his sons, Amnon, violates his daughter, Tamar. He doesn't stand up for what's right when another son, Absalom, takes justice into his own hands, killing Amnon for the crime committed against his sister. And, initially, he doesn't even take proper action when Absalom later tries to overthrow him as king. Amazing stuff, really.

(Not to mention this passivity being passed along to Absalom who tells Tamar to keep quiet about the whole thing--"Family Business" he said...)

God promised consequences, but David also failed to live righteously before his family and ultimately the Kingdom in these instances. He failed them. Along the way, David had some friends speaking the truth into his life. I loved and appreciated their influence. They chose to say, "Hey David, you've really messed up here!" And, he listened!

He did have a teachable and tender heart. We knew there were reasons God called him a man after His own heart, right?

The thing that stands out tonight is the ability that we have to bless people through proper action or wound them through passivity. The last several months of my life have been marked by these two things. I have experienced tremendous blessing at the hand of friends who chose into action (at times prayerful action) on my behalf. I've felt fought for and loved. In another relationship arena, I've been wounded by passivity. Inaction has left me feeling like my heart is a bit of a commodity being traded to satisfy someone else's underlying need. I respond and that must feel good to others, but I feel hurt when it seems like my response, not me, is the endgame. And, at the end of the day, I feel vulnerable and used.

Another side to the passivity issue is seeing good friends standing by playing witness to some of the things that have transpired and hearing them blame-shift behavior away or fail to challenge those people in what is true and good. Sometimes, I think that hurts more. We see things happen and do nothing. Perhaps we don't know what to do, but it doesn't change the reality that we're taking a backseat to the issue at hand and no one is required to grow in the process.

Of course, this all has me thinking of the ways I choose into passivity in my own life. There are a couple areas that come to mind immediately and I am responsible before the Lord in those places. I guess the bottom line is that I want to be a person that tells the truth. I don't want to pretend. And, I hope that those who care for me will love me enough to tell me the truth when I need to hear it, too.

May this life and the way I live it bless others, not wound them further.

How Else But Through A Broken Heart...

All is Said, Now I'm Done

The rain has washed away

clusters of a thousand thoughts

revealing a spoiled care

and so,

I’m moving on

I’ve said my piece

   to myself

      quietly on car rides

        canopied by lovely trees

Prompted by the beauty of 'being'

Appreciating: I have nothing to prove

I am this

I am not another

He calls it good

Finding release in the surrender

      of hopeful glances, taps, words

           each uprooted quite simply

                   action neglected

                   my hope deferred

But now I choose health

       In place of dis-ease

Palms wide open

     postured to receive

Yet waiting in motion (I cannot shake this directive)

    Around the corner sipping coffee

    Traversing concrete blocks
    Maneuvering myself toward warm sand,
          sweet glimmering vastness of shore and sun

       taking in 

          sights

          sounds

          people

          places

    Laughing until my stomach lurches

   

All the while

living 

this 

life

in a Presence so Abundant

                                  Satisfying

                                           Protecting

                                                       Good

Lost in FRESH considerations

Encountering DELIGHTED faces

Sharing NOVEL moments

that leave me with love,

not breadcrumbs.

Sadness Crept In

Meet me in the sadness
   in this sorrow
    oh, what madness

Hold my fragile heart
  the too familiar breaking
     accompanied with aching

Speak into stark rising fears
    this longing moment
     subdue my tears

Firmly plant such wayward feet
     prone to run
      escape before I'd come undone

Bring me to Your joy and rest
     help me breathe
      embrace what You deem best

Cause this wobbly heart to settle
     slow its pace
      lean into Your strength and grace

Love me in this sadness
     a silly sorrow
      oh sweet, known madness.

Triangle Pose & Love

In recent years I have had wise people and friends strongly encourage me to take part in the practice of yoga because somewhere along this road I travel, I have forgotten how to breathe. Leave it to me, the type-A, driven, perfectionist in remission to lose sight of a foundational necessity like breathing. The thing is, of course I breathe, but my breaths are shallow; and, the concern is that my body isn't receiving the oxygen it needs to function properly. In fact, without it, I cannot thrive. Amazing things I'm learning...

Lately, when I go to my class, I have focused my attention on what it means to trust God--to understand him as my Refuge. As I'm moving through the flow of movement, I turn my attention to how much I need him to even complete the poses, to rest in them, to find strength as I maintain the posture. One thing is for certain: it's hard. I see my need to depend upon him each and every week. The parallels to life are unending.

Last week, I realized mid-class that I was soaring through the flow. A first. I felt so grateful and strong. This week, I struggled. Maintaining my breath was challenging, I couldn't hold a bunch of poses and where strength was found last time, I found weakness this week.

When we arrived at triangle pose, I felt weary in it. I'm finding it challenging to explain the pose as I think about it so this next part might make sense... Leave it to the internet to find a photo in seconds... Here you go: Extended Triangle Pose. Anyway, while I focused on my breath and maintaining my stance, our instructor began to talk about the vulnerability of having our hearts so open to the world. I reflected on that as my whole body was turned out, exposed. She said that sometimes it is hard to choose into that vulnerability because of the risk it involves. Tears welled in my eyes.

I reflected on that with the Lord as I continued through the class. It is scary and messy to choose into love--receiving and giving--in this life. My immediate response is often to be guarded. Crossed arms, legs, and body positioned away from those I interact with regularly (ask the guys at the office--one has pointed this out to me).

BUT, if I desire to be loved (and really, to be able to offer love), I have to be open. I have to risk. And, in my weakness, I have to choose to allow Jesus to be my strength.

Beautiful Things

There's a song that I've come to love... Much of it goes like this...

"You make beautiful things

You make beautiful things out of the dust

You make beautiful things

You make beautiful things out of us"

--Gungor--

This afternoon, I pulled out my oil pastels and took time to draw and reflect on these lyrics. Here's what came out:

I've been thinking a lot these days about my strength. Mostly, I've been evaluating my belief that I lack it. While I know this is not true, I've often bought into the lie that I don't have what it takes to make it through the difficulties in my life. They have been immense in a way. Recently, a friend and I reflected on the hardships I've experienced these past few years. I feel like I've been to hell and back in specific ways relationally, emotionally, spiritually and physically. I've wondered if I would make it to the other side OR if the record player of my life would "play and repeat" adversity forever ...

God has begun to reveal, with more clarity, why he has brought me into this place of refinement through hardship. He wants to free me from those war wounds I mentioned recently. In fact, the other day, my brother put it this way, "He wants to kill the performer!" God cares so much more about my soul than he does about what I do for him.

I have to type that again...

God cares so much more about my soul than he does about what I do for him.

I've been forced to slow my pace. Most days it feels like I'm creeping along. But, the stillness has revealed this bittersweet truth: I am in deep pain. And, God has provided me with the strength to handle the process of healing. Here's how he's recently been showing this to me:

Two weeks ago, I found a card from one of my best friends. She sent it to me the first year I was in Boston... It was significant then and means so much today: "Your strength may surprise you... The rest of us already know..."

My back is healing from my car accident months ago, and as I've been challenging myself in physical therapy, I've noticed something... I'm actually achieving things that I'd given up on, watching daily as my strength returns and I regain ground I thought I lost.

Last night at church, a friend came to me during the musical worship time near the end. She said, "The Lord wants you to know that you are strong. You are stronger than you think you are..." I wept.

Today, I've chosen to step into my strength.

"You make beautiful things

You make beautiful things out of the dust

You make beautiful things

You make beautiful things out of us"

...