And so...earlier this week I found myself in a meeting that I wasn't sure I was supposed to be in. I was thinking 'OK, I've met some fun new faces and I enjoyed the teaching. I guess I'll come back next week." Then as closing comments were being made, I discovered why I was there. The person speaking even questioned the relevance of the side notes that had made my heart skip a beat. But I knew instantly because those words planted a seed of possibility in my heart. Within moments my practical self had taken over and created quite a list of ideas...thoughts of a new season to come and the steps I can take so that when that season arrives, I will be ready.
And then this morning I woke up to the beautiful sound of rain. I love a gray, rainy day...one with a quiet, somber feel. Not the blustery, thunderous ones so much, but one that invites me to sit and be still. I knew the rain that was falling outside was an indication that a cool front was coming my way and that makes me happy. Years ago I was 'colorized' as a spring/summer person meaning I should wear colors that are pastel to medium tones and lean more toward pinks than oranges in my color choices. That is where my affinity for spring/summer ends. I'm a fall/winter girl for sure. I come alive the day they FINALLY close the neighborhood pool and I can put away the beach towels and swimsuit for a few months. The day the temperatures fall below 85 is a cause for celebration in my home! So knowing that a cool front was coming, I wanted to get things cleaned up so that I could decorate for fall. As I began putting 'summer' away and seeing the layers of 'cleaning/organizing' that would need to be done in order for 'fall' to release it's reds and oranges and pumpkins and acorns, I began to get a little discouraged. I quickly ran to the kitchen to light my Yankee 'Harvest' scented candle as motivation to keep working. And that's when it clicked. Often times the Lord will use my everyday life to remind me of what He is doing in me spiritually. I was finding a way to stay motivated to clean up one mess so that I could bring things out that make my heart happy. That was exactly what He had done a few days ago as I sat in that meeting. He gave me just what I needed to know to motivate me to do the work that needs to be done before a new season in my life can begin. I am relatively certain that the season of life He is asking me to prepare for will not arrive as quickly as the cool breezes I felt tonight. I feel as though I will have a little while to nurture and care for the passion-seed as it grows into the full picture He allowed me to see. But just as the spicy scented candle motivates me to keep cleaning, knowing that my pumpkins will soon adorn my tables and acorns my mantle, He will provide for me the encouragement I need to keep moving toward the new season that is to come.
Until then I'm going to continue to be faithful in the season I'm in now, and work on what I can for the season that is to come. Oh, and tomorrow I'll finish putting summer away, drink my favorite Pumpkin Spice Latte as I decorate and happy dance myself right into fall!
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Daddy's Girls
And so…this blog was supposed to be posted just before Father’s Day. It didn’t make it. I’ve been struggling lately to move beyond the place of inspiration where one must sit still and listen for the substance that follows. I’m doing my best now, in this moment, to finish what I believe the Lord began…
Isn’t it funny how we just go about our days moving from one experience to another. We enjoy one event and endure the next. Then, without warning, your mind allows you to see how those experiences all come together to form a beautiful picture. That happened to me recently.
I had a birthday earlier this summer and my Dad surprised me by coming over to celebrate with me. He called me to throw me off, then showed up on my door step shortly after, and we chatted the afternoon away. The gift he gave me was so typical of him. You see, several weeks ago I became obsessed with the watermelon tea served at Twisted Root Burger Co. & Cowboy Chow, in Roanoke, TX. I made a comment on Facebook about wishing I had one of those crazy hard hats, with cup holders and straws on the side like you see frat boys use in the movies…only mine would be filled with watermelon tea. I have searched for and purchased several watermelon syrups trying to make the tea at home. I called Twisted Root to find out what kind of syrup they use and asked if I could purchase the tea itself. I was told “no“. So my Daddy’s gift to me was a crazy yellow hard hat with cup holders and straws AND a gallon of watermelon tea from Twisted Root!!! Yes, he is that thoughtful, persistent and determined (just ask the people at Twisted Root next time you see them).
I was surprised by his visit, but not that he would go to such trouble for me. That life long pattern began 45 years ago when he air conditioned our home in hot, humid, north Louisiana just days after I was brought home from the hospital and developed a heat rash. It continued on my 10th birthday when he took me to the Barn Dinner Theater to see a play called “Here Lies Jeremy Troy”. I have no idea what that play was about, but I remember the floral organza dress I wore, complete with knee socks and patten leather shoes. I remember being embarrassed and thrilled when the company of actors sang “Happy Birthday” to me. I remember being treated like a lady and deciding, right then, to never accept anything less. In high school, just before graduation, I found a card in my 1974 Maverick containing a one dollar bill and a note that said “This amount will double every day until your last day of high school“. Word spread quickly, and when the final bell rang at the end of the day, a crowd gathered around that old car to see where the cash was hidden. My guess is, he was hiding somewhere nearby to see what my response was. While I was in college, Dad came over one night to take me out for dinner to eat ‘real’ food and brought with him a beautiful pearl necklace. I could continue recounting story after story of special things he has done for me over the years…making sure I had a plate rack on my vent hood in the kitchen of our first home, ice tongs for a paper towel rack, being with me when each of our boys was born, driving my terminally ill father-in-law to Houston and hours of priceless conversation.
Later in the week, I attended a wedding and was fascinated as I watched another strong, fearless Daddy crumble because of the love he felt for his daughter. He tearfully gave away his greatest possession. At the reception, as the special dances took place following the Daddy/daughter dance, they stood to the side of the dance floor casually holding hands. She would stretch far away to talk to a friend and he held tight. Occasionally she would let go to hug someone but she always came back to his side and reached for his hand. When all the special dances were over, she threw her hands above her head and ran to the center of the dance floor to celebrate with her friends. He watched with a huge smile on his face as he shook his head, chuckled at her exuberance and reached for the hand of her mother.
It was one of those moments in time when the celebration and dance- inducing music faded into the background because my God was whispering to me as I watched them. He was reminding me that Daddy’s girls know their Dads like no one else. We have a piece of their hearts that no one else will ever have and because of that, we find it easy to believe in the unconditional love of our heavenly Father.
When my Dad ‘counted my ribs’ (tickled me) he was teaching me that my heavenly Father loves the sound of my laughter and wants me to know indescribable joy. The watermelon tea he brought me reminded me that God listens and wants to provide the simplest desires of my heart. The countless times my Dad has blessed me with a gift that I didn’t ask for, tells me that there are countless blessings in heaven for me, just waiting for me to ask for them. When my Dad drove my Father-in-law to Houston to begin cancer treatment he was showing me that my God would always take care of the big, scary things in life that seemed insurmountable to me and that the love I have for my family is nothing compared to His love for them. The hours of priceless conversation is a beautiful reminder that Jesus wants us to have special time together in which we both share what we have on our hearts.
Watching the “Father of the bride” reminded me that my heavenly Father will always be there to hold my hand, to dance with me and to watch as I celebrate life with my friends. He is always the same…dependable, strong, sure, mighty…even if I slip away for a bit, I can always return and take his hand.
Family relationships are often complicated and at times difficult. My relationship with my Dad has not been perfect, because we are not perfect. We choose to believe in each other and love each other…no matter what. No doubt there are people who do not have the kind of relationship with their Dad that I have described. The good news is that this love that covers, comforts, calms, provides, protects, forgives, and secures is equally available to all who choose to have a relationship with Jesus. All you have to do is tell Him that you want him to know Him personally. And before you know it, whether you’ve ever seen yourself this way or not, you can be a ‘Daddy’s girl’ too!
Isn’t it funny how we just go about our days moving from one experience to another. We enjoy one event and endure the next. Then, without warning, your mind allows you to see how those experiences all come together to form a beautiful picture. That happened to me recently.
I had a birthday earlier this summer and my Dad surprised me by coming over to celebrate with me. He called me to throw me off, then showed up on my door step shortly after, and we chatted the afternoon away. The gift he gave me was so typical of him. You see, several weeks ago I became obsessed with the watermelon tea served at Twisted Root Burger Co. & Cowboy Chow, in Roanoke, TX. I made a comment on Facebook about wishing I had one of those crazy hard hats, with cup holders and straws on the side like you see frat boys use in the movies…only mine would be filled with watermelon tea. I have searched for and purchased several watermelon syrups trying to make the tea at home. I called Twisted Root to find out what kind of syrup they use and asked if I could purchase the tea itself. I was told “no“. So my Daddy’s gift to me was a crazy yellow hard hat with cup holders and straws AND a gallon of watermelon tea from Twisted Root!!! Yes, he is that thoughtful, persistent and determined (just ask the people at Twisted Root next time you see them).
I was surprised by his visit, but not that he would go to such trouble for me. That life long pattern began 45 years ago when he air conditioned our home in hot, humid, north Louisiana just days after I was brought home from the hospital and developed a heat rash. It continued on my 10th birthday when he took me to the Barn Dinner Theater to see a play called “Here Lies Jeremy Troy”. I have no idea what that play was about, but I remember the floral organza dress I wore, complete with knee socks and patten leather shoes. I remember being embarrassed and thrilled when the company of actors sang “Happy Birthday” to me. I remember being treated like a lady and deciding, right then, to never accept anything less. In high school, just before graduation, I found a card in my 1974 Maverick containing a one dollar bill and a note that said “This amount will double every day until your last day of high school“. Word spread quickly, and when the final bell rang at the end of the day, a crowd gathered around that old car to see where the cash was hidden. My guess is, he was hiding somewhere nearby to see what my response was. While I was in college, Dad came over one night to take me out for dinner to eat ‘real’ food and brought with him a beautiful pearl necklace. I could continue recounting story after story of special things he has done for me over the years…making sure I had a plate rack on my vent hood in the kitchen of our first home, ice tongs for a paper towel rack, being with me when each of our boys was born, driving my terminally ill father-in-law to Houston and hours of priceless conversation.
Later in the week, I attended a wedding and was fascinated as I watched another strong, fearless Daddy crumble because of the love he felt for his daughter. He tearfully gave away his greatest possession. At the reception, as the special dances took place following the Daddy/daughter dance, they stood to the side of the dance floor casually holding hands. She would stretch far away to talk to a friend and he held tight. Occasionally she would let go to hug someone but she always came back to his side and reached for his hand. When all the special dances were over, she threw her hands above her head and ran to the center of the dance floor to celebrate with her friends. He watched with a huge smile on his face as he shook his head, chuckled at her exuberance and reached for the hand of her mother.
It was one of those moments in time when the celebration and dance- inducing music faded into the background because my God was whispering to me as I watched them. He was reminding me that Daddy’s girls know their Dads like no one else. We have a piece of their hearts that no one else will ever have and because of that, we find it easy to believe in the unconditional love of our heavenly Father.
When my Dad ‘counted my ribs’ (tickled me) he was teaching me that my heavenly Father loves the sound of my laughter and wants me to know indescribable joy. The watermelon tea he brought me reminded me that God listens and wants to provide the simplest desires of my heart. The countless times my Dad has blessed me with a gift that I didn’t ask for, tells me that there are countless blessings in heaven for me, just waiting for me to ask for them. When my Dad drove my Father-in-law to Houston to begin cancer treatment he was showing me that my God would always take care of the big, scary things in life that seemed insurmountable to me and that the love I have for my family is nothing compared to His love for them. The hours of priceless conversation is a beautiful reminder that Jesus wants us to have special time together in which we both share what we have on our hearts.
Watching the “Father of the bride” reminded me that my heavenly Father will always be there to hold my hand, to dance with me and to watch as I celebrate life with my friends. He is always the same…dependable, strong, sure, mighty…even if I slip away for a bit, I can always return and take his hand.
Family relationships are often complicated and at times difficult. My relationship with my Dad has not been perfect, because we are not perfect. We choose to believe in each other and love each other…no matter what. No doubt there are people who do not have the kind of relationship with their Dad that I have described. The good news is that this love that covers, comforts, calms, provides, protects, forgives, and secures is equally available to all who choose to have a relationship with Jesus. All you have to do is tell Him that you want him to know Him personally. And before you know it, whether you’ve ever seen yourself this way or not, you can be a ‘Daddy’s girl’ too!
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Easter Also Has A Tree
And so, while drying my hair one morning I found myself thinking about the upcoming Holiday...Easter. Maybe it's just me, but it feels like it comes earlier each year. April is a big month of celebration at our house. My husband and first born son celebrate their birthday's on the 19th and 21st of the month and we are accustomed to celebrating Easter very near their birthday's. So for Easter to be the first weekend in April seems early to me. Quite frankly, I'm not sure I'm over all of the Christmas decorating, celebrating and clean up!
Hmm...two weeks before Easter and I have not put out the few Easter deocrations I have collected over the years . With that thought, the switch was flipped and my mind began whirring like the blenders at Smoothie King on half price day. You see, I decorate for Christmas before I plan what sides will accompany my turkey at our Thanksgiving dinner. I am thorough in my Christmas decorating...red velvet ribbon wrapped around every 3rd stair spindle to mimic candy canes, ceramic houses sitting atop fake snow with a soft light burning inside of each, animated Joseph and Mary...babe in her arms, my favorite wood carved nativity. And let's not forget the tree...a nine foot tree that took me seven years to choose, twinkling with approximately 1600 lights...a mixture of white and multi-colored so that all family members are happy. The Funderburk family LOVES Christmas. We love celebrating the birth of our Savior and even took our gift cues from the wisemen by reasoning that if the most special baby ever born only received three gifts on His birthday, our children should not receive more.
Obviously without Christmas, Easter would not exist. Both occasions are central to our faith that sets forth the prinicples by which we live every day of our lives. Why then does our celebration of Easter pale in comparison to our Christmas celebration? It's true that the significance of the birth of Jesus has become a bit too familiar for those of us raised in the church and often times gets lost in the hustle and bustle of the season. But the death, burial & resurrection of Jesus is what secures my eternity! How can I not spend as much, if not more, time celebrating that occasion?
As the hair dryer buzzed, I remembered being in an Easter service circa 1994. I was a new mom, enjoying a rare moment of uninterrupted corporate worship. A large wooden cross was highlighted on the platform draped with a beautiful purple cloth. As we sang songs about the cross, my heart was gently stirred by the Holy Spirit. The tears streamed down my face as the words and music swelled around me...
"See from His head, His hands, His feet, sorrow and love flow mingled down. Did e'er such love and sorrow meet, or thorns compose so rich a crown?"
"I'll never know how much it cost to see my sin upon that cross."
"Oh the wonderful cross bids me come and die and find that I may truly live."
Though surrounded by 300 other people, I had a very personal life changing moment with my Lord. It was one of those quiet moments, when I felt as though the Holy Spirit was standing right in front of me and my heart was about to beat out of my chest. As we stood there, the Holy Spirit and I, He took the knowledge that I had about what Jesus did on the cross, reached into a deep place in my heart and planted it there. In response, my heart melted at the revelation that if I had been the only person in this world, He would have still gone to the cross, suffered and died just so that I could spend eternity with Him. I fell in love with Jesus in that moment. I had loved, believed and trusted Him before, but the fresh revelation of His desire for me captivated my heart in a new way. I slowly opened my eyes and soaked in the feelings and sounds of that moment while I looked at the cross in a new way.
The cross is the Easter tree. It's shape is different and it's decor far less festive than a Christmas tree. But it's beauty cannot be compared, for the son of God was it's sole decoration and on Him were placed the sins of the world. Sins of pride, anger, fear, worry, discontentment, doubt, jealousy were all paid for by His death and resurrection making it possible for us to have an all access pass to the throne room of God. Unlike most Christmas presents which are enjoyed for a little while and then forgotten, the gift of His sacrifice continues to offer us forgiveness, acceptance and freedom every minute of every day.
So this weekend, the Funderburks will begin a new Easter tradition. Similar to our Thanksgiving tree on which we place fall leaves and acorns stating the things for which we are thankful, I'm picturing an Easter tree covered with hearts, on which are written words like mercy, joy, love, forgiveness, peace, freedom, acceptance, favor. In order to take one of the hearts off of the Easter tree, we will first write on the cross, itself, what we are leaving there. I want to pass on to my children the joy of the cross and all it means for walking out this life in Christ. I want to be reminded, in a tangible way, of the inequity of the exchange that happens at the cross. I long for them, and others I care for, to fully embrace the love that was expressed in His sacrifice. I never want to forget it myself.
My prayer is that all who read this would be reminded to look fully, deeply at the cross this Easter season and in doing so fall more in love with the one who conquered it!
Pictures can be seen on my Facebook page: Bethani Semon Funderburk
Hmm...two weeks before Easter and I have not put out the few Easter deocrations I have collected over the years . With that thought, the switch was flipped and my mind began whirring like the blenders at Smoothie King on half price day. You see, I decorate for Christmas before I plan what sides will accompany my turkey at our Thanksgiving dinner. I am thorough in my Christmas decorating...red velvet ribbon wrapped around every 3rd stair spindle to mimic candy canes, ceramic houses sitting atop fake snow with a soft light burning inside of each, animated Joseph and Mary...babe in her arms, my favorite wood carved nativity. And let's not forget the tree...a nine foot tree that took me seven years to choose, twinkling with approximately 1600 lights...a mixture of white and multi-colored so that all family members are happy. The Funderburk family LOVES Christmas. We love celebrating the birth of our Savior and even took our gift cues from the wisemen by reasoning that if the most special baby ever born only received three gifts on His birthday, our children should not receive more.
Obviously without Christmas, Easter would not exist. Both occasions are central to our faith that sets forth the prinicples by which we live every day of our lives. Why then does our celebration of Easter pale in comparison to our Christmas celebration? It's true that the significance of the birth of Jesus has become a bit too familiar for those of us raised in the church and often times gets lost in the hustle and bustle of the season. But the death, burial & resurrection of Jesus is what secures my eternity! How can I not spend as much, if not more, time celebrating that occasion?
As the hair dryer buzzed, I remembered being in an Easter service circa 1994. I was a new mom, enjoying a rare moment of uninterrupted corporate worship. A large wooden cross was highlighted on the platform draped with a beautiful purple cloth. As we sang songs about the cross, my heart was gently stirred by the Holy Spirit. The tears streamed down my face as the words and music swelled around me...
"See from His head, His hands, His feet, sorrow and love flow mingled down. Did e'er such love and sorrow meet, or thorns compose so rich a crown?"
"I'll never know how much it cost to see my sin upon that cross."
"Oh the wonderful cross bids me come and die and find that I may truly live."
Though surrounded by 300 other people, I had a very personal life changing moment with my Lord. It was one of those quiet moments, when I felt as though the Holy Spirit was standing right in front of me and my heart was about to beat out of my chest. As we stood there, the Holy Spirit and I, He took the knowledge that I had about what Jesus did on the cross, reached into a deep place in my heart and planted it there. In response, my heart melted at the revelation that if I had been the only person in this world, He would have still gone to the cross, suffered and died just so that I could spend eternity with Him. I fell in love with Jesus in that moment. I had loved, believed and trusted Him before, but the fresh revelation of His desire for me captivated my heart in a new way. I slowly opened my eyes and soaked in the feelings and sounds of that moment while I looked at the cross in a new way.
The cross is the Easter tree. It's shape is different and it's decor far less festive than a Christmas tree. But it's beauty cannot be compared, for the son of God was it's sole decoration and on Him were placed the sins of the world. Sins of pride, anger, fear, worry, discontentment, doubt, jealousy were all paid for by His death and resurrection making it possible for us to have an all access pass to the throne room of God. Unlike most Christmas presents which are enjoyed for a little while and then forgotten, the gift of His sacrifice continues to offer us forgiveness, acceptance and freedom every minute of every day.
So this weekend, the Funderburks will begin a new Easter tradition. Similar to our Thanksgiving tree on which we place fall leaves and acorns stating the things for which we are thankful, I'm picturing an Easter tree covered with hearts, on which are written words like mercy, joy, love, forgiveness, peace, freedom, acceptance, favor. In order to take one of the hearts off of the Easter tree, we will first write on the cross, itself, what we are leaving there. I want to pass on to my children the joy of the cross and all it means for walking out this life in Christ. I want to be reminded, in a tangible way, of the inequity of the exchange that happens at the cross. I long for them, and others I care for, to fully embrace the love that was expressed in His sacrifice. I never want to forget it myself.
My prayer is that all who read this would be reminded to look fully, deeply at the cross this Easter season and in doing so fall more in love with the one who conquered it!
Pictures can be seen on my Facebook page: Bethani Semon Funderburk
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
A Child-like Spirit
And so, my mother tells the story of me at the age of five waking up one morning shortly after I had prayed and asked Jesus to come into my heart. I ran to the front picture window, threw back the curtain and excitedly asked “Mommy, could today be the day that He comes back?” While I don’t remember that morning, as a child I was keenly aware of His presence around me and in our home.
The beauty of this story is the uninhibited expectation a child has with regard to what God’s word says. I had been taught of His love for me and seen ‘pictures’ of His return. In each of them, Jesus was standing on white puffy clouds with welcoming arms outstretched. When I was told that He could return at any time, I believed, without reservation. Matthew 18:3-4 encourages us to become like little children in order to enter into the kingdom of heaven. I think that simply means to have the spirit of a child…innocent, trusting, expectant, alive. Children see Him in the beauty of his creation, and expect to find Him as they go about their days.
“Grown ups” must choose to find the wonder in life. As we mature and our sense of reasoning develops we tend to lose the ability to accept something simply for what it is. Our minds begin to be clouded by logic and explanation. We forget to look for Him among the four leaf clovers or shapes in clouds. We get too busy to open the windows and hear His applause in the sound of the rain. Our lives are dictated by our schedules, thoughts, emotions and appetites which are all things we are conscious of during an average day.
Our spirits are far less demanding than our emotions and schedules. We are typically not as conscious of our spirits need to be fed because it doesn’t grumble like our tummies do. Replenishing your spirit requires intention and focus, and is every bit as important. Our creator desires to communicate with every part of who we are. He loves us to read and use our minds to absorb His Word. His heart is warmed when our love for him is expressed in worship. But He is a spirit being who wants to communicate with our spirits. I believe that our spirits are communicating with the Holy Spirit at all times. We are just too busy to recognize it.
So how do we begin to pay attention to our spirits more diligently? I would like to suggest that you begin in the morning, before your feet hit the floor. As soon as you turn the alarm off, wait and focus on the thoughts you are having in that moment. You may have a song or phrase running through your mind. Ask the Lord if it is something He wants to say to you. Be aware that the words or phrases you hear may not be a scripture or words that you would think God would use to speak to you. One morning I woke up and heard these words “If I lay here. If I just lay here. Would you lie with me and just forget the world?” In that moment, I didn’t try to figure out who sang that song or where I had heard it, I just chose to hear the desire of my heavenly Father to be still with me and forget the cares of that day. On more than a few occasions I have woken up with lyrics of a love song floating through my mind. When that happens, I just assume that Jesus is singing me a love song…not a bad thought to start your day. Please note that I am not a morning person. My family will tell you that my best hours are those ending in p.m. I’m not talking about deep intimate times of meditation, just an awareness that sometimes our spirits must wait for our minds, emotions and bodies to quiet down in order to fully communicate with the Holy Spirit. It is such a comfort to know that while my body and mind are replenishing through rest, my spirit is being rejuvenated and sharing things with the Lord.
Many times we confuse the encouragement of the Holy Spirit with thoughts. You know what I’m talking about…you’re vacuuming the dog hair off the couch, or driving to your third practice for the day and you feel like you should call a friend who is going through a difficult time. I say put down the dust buster or pick up your cell phone and make the call, because that is not a thought, it’s a suggestion from the Holy Spirit. I wonder what would be so wrong if we began to believe that all of those kinds of ‘thoughts’ were actually from God himself. I find when I do this consistently throughout the day, I have more time at the end of my day and a great sense of satisfaction in having been used by God to encourage someone in need. I think of it as a tithe of my time and attention.
I began to realize how interested He is in an ongoing dialogue with me several years ago as I was driving to work. I always used that time to worship and pray. One morning I was particularly burdened by an extended family situation and was pouring out my heart’s concerns. I arrived at the parking lot, got out of my car and do not consciously remember when I quit talking to Him. At lunch time, I returned to my car. As soon as I got in the car, a phrase began to run through my head. I kept hearing the words “and so…” over and over again until I said (out loud) “and so what?” At that moment I realized that the Lord had waited for me to return to where we had last spoken and finish the story I was sharing with Him. That was over 15 years ago and I’ve never forgotten what that felt like. Almighty God, waiting for me to share with Him, things He already knew. His desire was so great for me to talk to Him that He nudged me gently to get my attention.
I would like to say that from that day on He has never lost my attention, but that’s not totally true. I do love starting my days with love songs from the Lord and I do take time to lie on the sidewalk and look at the stars. I always try to send the card or make the call and pray for friends He brings to mind as we go through the day. When I take the time to be conscious of how present He is in my life and recognize that He orchestrates all of the little “coincidences” that occur in my day, I become aware of how alive my spirit is. And on the day that He does return, I hope I’ve thrown my curtains back in anticipation and asked “Father, could today be the day?”
The beauty of this story is the uninhibited expectation a child has with regard to what God’s word says. I had been taught of His love for me and seen ‘pictures’ of His return. In each of them, Jesus was standing on white puffy clouds with welcoming arms outstretched. When I was told that He could return at any time, I believed, without reservation. Matthew 18:3-4 encourages us to become like little children in order to enter into the kingdom of heaven. I think that simply means to have the spirit of a child…innocent, trusting, expectant, alive. Children see Him in the beauty of his creation, and expect to find Him as they go about their days.
“Grown ups” must choose to find the wonder in life. As we mature and our sense of reasoning develops we tend to lose the ability to accept something simply for what it is. Our minds begin to be clouded by logic and explanation. We forget to look for Him among the four leaf clovers or shapes in clouds. We get too busy to open the windows and hear His applause in the sound of the rain. Our lives are dictated by our schedules, thoughts, emotions and appetites which are all things we are conscious of during an average day.
Our spirits are far less demanding than our emotions and schedules. We are typically not as conscious of our spirits need to be fed because it doesn’t grumble like our tummies do. Replenishing your spirit requires intention and focus, and is every bit as important. Our creator desires to communicate with every part of who we are. He loves us to read and use our minds to absorb His Word. His heart is warmed when our love for him is expressed in worship. But He is a spirit being who wants to communicate with our spirits. I believe that our spirits are communicating with the Holy Spirit at all times. We are just too busy to recognize it.
So how do we begin to pay attention to our spirits more diligently? I would like to suggest that you begin in the morning, before your feet hit the floor. As soon as you turn the alarm off, wait and focus on the thoughts you are having in that moment. You may have a song or phrase running through your mind. Ask the Lord if it is something He wants to say to you. Be aware that the words or phrases you hear may not be a scripture or words that you would think God would use to speak to you. One morning I woke up and heard these words “If I lay here. If I just lay here. Would you lie with me and just forget the world?” In that moment, I didn’t try to figure out who sang that song or where I had heard it, I just chose to hear the desire of my heavenly Father to be still with me and forget the cares of that day. On more than a few occasions I have woken up with lyrics of a love song floating through my mind. When that happens, I just assume that Jesus is singing me a love song…not a bad thought to start your day. Please note that I am not a morning person. My family will tell you that my best hours are those ending in p.m. I’m not talking about deep intimate times of meditation, just an awareness that sometimes our spirits must wait for our minds, emotions and bodies to quiet down in order to fully communicate with the Holy Spirit. It is such a comfort to know that while my body and mind are replenishing through rest, my spirit is being rejuvenated and sharing things with the Lord.
Many times we confuse the encouragement of the Holy Spirit with thoughts. You know what I’m talking about…you’re vacuuming the dog hair off the couch, or driving to your third practice for the day and you feel like you should call a friend who is going through a difficult time. I say put down the dust buster or pick up your cell phone and make the call, because that is not a thought, it’s a suggestion from the Holy Spirit. I wonder what would be so wrong if we began to believe that all of those kinds of ‘thoughts’ were actually from God himself. I find when I do this consistently throughout the day, I have more time at the end of my day and a great sense of satisfaction in having been used by God to encourage someone in need. I think of it as a tithe of my time and attention.
I began to realize how interested He is in an ongoing dialogue with me several years ago as I was driving to work. I always used that time to worship and pray. One morning I was particularly burdened by an extended family situation and was pouring out my heart’s concerns. I arrived at the parking lot, got out of my car and do not consciously remember when I quit talking to Him. At lunch time, I returned to my car. As soon as I got in the car, a phrase began to run through my head. I kept hearing the words “and so…” over and over again until I said (out loud) “and so what?” At that moment I realized that the Lord had waited for me to return to where we had last spoken and finish the story I was sharing with Him. That was over 15 years ago and I’ve never forgotten what that felt like. Almighty God, waiting for me to share with Him, things He already knew. His desire was so great for me to talk to Him that He nudged me gently to get my attention.
I would like to say that from that day on He has never lost my attention, but that’s not totally true. I do love starting my days with love songs from the Lord and I do take time to lie on the sidewalk and look at the stars. I always try to send the card or make the call and pray for friends He brings to mind as we go through the day. When I take the time to be conscious of how present He is in my life and recognize that He orchestrates all of the little “coincidences” that occur in my day, I become aware of how alive my spirit is. And on the day that He does return, I hope I’ve thrown my curtains back in anticipation and asked “Father, could today be the day?”
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