And so...lately I've become more aware of how I enjoy feeling valued and appreciated. I'm not sure it's possible in today's world to have original thoughts on the topic of significance and our human struggle to obtain it. But I've shared a few of my personal perspectives with friends and they encouraged me to blog those thoughts and that made me feel important. =D So here they are:
Whether it's children on a playground choosing teams for a game of baseball or well-dressed business men spending money they don't have, to impress people they don't really like...we all want to feel important. We want to be noticed, recognized for the special things that make us unique. The truth about human nature is that no matter how recognized you become in your own little world, it will never be enough because God created us with that need. He purposefully designed our hearts so that we would look to Him for our significance. When we expect others around us to appreciate or value us enough, we will be sorely disappointed and frustrated. Think of those shape sorters for children, where they pick up a square plastic block and try to cram it into the round hole. In the eyes of our creator I bet we look similar when we set our intention on position, title, role, or associations. Only understanding God's love for and pleasure in us will fill the God shaped hole he strategically placed in our hearts. I don't see this as a 'spiritual illness' to be cured or a 'weakness' to be strengthened. It's God's design that we come to Him daily/hourly to know that we are enough. And when we get close enough to Him to hear His whispers of affirmation, our hearts are encouraged to stay close to Him...which is when the God-shaped block fits perfectly into the God-shaped hole in our hearts.
In Mark 8:27-30 the account of Peter confessing Jesus as Messiah is recorded. In their discussion Jesus asks his closest followers/friends "Who do people say I am". Their response is of course neither shocking nor accurate. NONE of the people around him were able to accurately reflect who He really was. I don't think for one second Jesus was asking that question in the same way we do, but I think the response of others is still true today. No one in your life can fully, accurately tell you all that you are now or who are meant to be. No one but Jesus.
It is likely that as you've read thus far that you agree with what I've said and maybe you have even had the picture of someone you know flash before your eyes. It is easy to identify this struggle in other people you know. But I think this conflict is a little bit like a belly button...we all have them! So before you judge the actions of a person who seems to be "showing their belly button", take a minute and examine your own heart/actions. In those moments, CHOOSE GRACE and identify their struggle as common and pray that their desire would be redirected to the ONLY one who can satisfy it. Because if you are not aware of significance being a difficulty for you currently, it may be in the future. And when grace is given, it will be returned to you!
We all know and recognize that 'the world is full of hurting-struggling people'. Many of us give unending grace to the unbelievers that we encounter daily. Perhaps we could all broaden our definition of hurting-struggling people to include church going, serving, committed believers (self included) and extend His grace to everyone. Wouldn't it be great if doing so took the shame out of this issue? So that it would be no worse than having lipstick on your teeth or forgetting to zip your pants. With grace and understanding, we appreciate those things being brought to our attention. We correct them and move on, grateful that someone cared enough to point it out. One of the best indicators that a person understands grace is when they give it to themselves, allowing for sin followed by sincere repentance and a return to walking heart to heart with the Holy Spirit.
I have a friend who encourages others in a high-pitched, Minnie Mouse type voice "Look for Jesus. He's moving. Look for Him everywhere!" I find, on those days, when that is my focus, I see Him everywhere. I see Him in the face of the father pushing his child in a swing at the park, in the sway of the trees as they bow to the wind, in the faithfulness of the sunset. When my heart is focused on looking for Him, I seem to be able to forget about who is looking at me!
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Road Construction Ahead
And so, apparently there was a huge clearance sale in my little corner of the globe on large, plastic, orange and white barrels. You know, the ones that pop up over night and force traffic that flowed freely the day you had all the time in the world to creep at a snails pace on one of those rare 'terrible, horrible, no good, very bad' days. Suddenly it seems that no major thoroughfare is without them. Medians are being constructed, roads are being widened, turn lanes are being added...all intended to make our lives easier.
THE road that leads to my home is a pot-hole infested, shoulder-less, two-lane, asphalt nightmare. From where I live it really is the ONLY logical way to and from the primary shopping areas. We were told 8 years ago that within 2 years it would be developed into a 5 lane concrete wonder. Perhaps they were talking 'dog years' and failed to mention that to us. So a few months ago we were thrilled when we finally began seeing signs of potential road construction. First it was the appearance of randomly placed culverts that will be burried underground to prevent flash floods. Next a tractor appeared and sat in one spot for several weeks. Tire tracks from large trucks began leaving grooves in the dry grass and then they began moving dirt. Every day I watch as I drive alongside the barreled/fenced off construction zone looking for some sign of significant progress. And while I can tell work is being done, it just seems to be happening so slowly that it's hard to picture the completed road.
One day as I bounced from one pothole to the next, straining to see some measurable difference from the day before, I heard the Holy Spirit say "Ya know, this is a great metaphor for your life right now." So I turned down my 80's dance music, curbed the serious head bobbing and said "Please, please tell me now. Is there something I should know?". He chuckled at my smart aleck Duran Duran reference and explained how there were a few areas in my life that would soon be 'under construction'. He drew parallels between the bumpy old road and some of the ways I relate to others. A few of the 'roads' that I've built have served a purpose but have, over time, become riddled with broken spots on which I've placed quick fixes that ultimately make my journey unpleasant and at times difficult to navigate. His loving words and gentleness melted my defensiveness as He shared His vision for the new 'ways' and 'lanes' He wanted to help me develop. Well constructed pathways that allowed for a smooth ride, were filled with light, and clear boundaries. As I approached a large pile of building material that had been delivered weeks ago and had not been moved, He told me there might be days when it appears that no work is being done. But that my ability to 'see progress' as I defined it, was not required for it to exist. Freshly moved dirt takes time to settle and newly poured concrete must 'set up' in order to withstand future traffic.
He reminded me that there ARE other physical roads to and from where I need to go. They make the trip longer and are not as convenient as the old, familiar road, but they are pot-hole free which is good for the alignment of my vehicle. Oh...I start to catch on... I do KNOW other relational paths to take, but they are unfamiliar and unsettling. But if I begin to take those paths, I'll be more 'aligned' and ready to roll when the construction is over. I sensed his pleasure as I opened my heart to see the beauty in the dirt and rebar and quiet tractors and seeming pile of junk that would all be used to make a way, a better way, for me to get to where I need to go.
Apparently the metaphors are endless because even as I write He's showing me new parallels. And because of that I'm learning to be grateful for all of those orange/white barrels instead of focusing on the pot-holes and getting frustrated by the inconvenience. They have become symbols of His work in my heart. Yes, there are moments that I lose perspective and grow weary, but He is faithful and provides the encouragement I need in countless ways.
And as I finish writing this I'm hearing a song in my head, no doubt placed there by Him...'Don't Stop Believing' by 'Journey'.
How appropriate! =D
THE road that leads to my home is a pot-hole infested, shoulder-less, two-lane, asphalt nightmare. From where I live it really is the ONLY logical way to and from the primary shopping areas. We were told 8 years ago that within 2 years it would be developed into a 5 lane concrete wonder. Perhaps they were talking 'dog years' and failed to mention that to us. So a few months ago we were thrilled when we finally began seeing signs of potential road construction. First it was the appearance of randomly placed culverts that will be burried underground to prevent flash floods. Next a tractor appeared and sat in one spot for several weeks. Tire tracks from large trucks began leaving grooves in the dry grass and then they began moving dirt. Every day I watch as I drive alongside the barreled/fenced off construction zone looking for some sign of significant progress. And while I can tell work is being done, it just seems to be happening so slowly that it's hard to picture the completed road.
One day as I bounced from one pothole to the next, straining to see some measurable difference from the day before, I heard the Holy Spirit say "Ya know, this is a great metaphor for your life right now." So I turned down my 80's dance music, curbed the serious head bobbing and said "Please, please tell me now. Is there something I should know?". He chuckled at my smart aleck Duran Duran reference and explained how there were a few areas in my life that would soon be 'under construction'. He drew parallels between the bumpy old road and some of the ways I relate to others. A few of the 'roads' that I've built have served a purpose but have, over time, become riddled with broken spots on which I've placed quick fixes that ultimately make my journey unpleasant and at times difficult to navigate. His loving words and gentleness melted my defensiveness as He shared His vision for the new 'ways' and 'lanes' He wanted to help me develop. Well constructed pathways that allowed for a smooth ride, were filled with light, and clear boundaries. As I approached a large pile of building material that had been delivered weeks ago and had not been moved, He told me there might be days when it appears that no work is being done. But that my ability to 'see progress' as I defined it, was not required for it to exist. Freshly moved dirt takes time to settle and newly poured concrete must 'set up' in order to withstand future traffic.
He reminded me that there ARE other physical roads to and from where I need to go. They make the trip longer and are not as convenient as the old, familiar road, but they are pot-hole free which is good for the alignment of my vehicle. Oh...I start to catch on... I do KNOW other relational paths to take, but they are unfamiliar and unsettling. But if I begin to take those paths, I'll be more 'aligned' and ready to roll when the construction is over. I sensed his pleasure as I opened my heart to see the beauty in the dirt and rebar and quiet tractors and seeming pile of junk that would all be used to make a way, a better way, for me to get to where I need to go.
Apparently the metaphors are endless because even as I write He's showing me new parallels. And because of that I'm learning to be grateful for all of those orange/white barrels instead of focusing on the pot-holes and getting frustrated by the inconvenience. They have become symbols of His work in my heart. Yes, there are moments that I lose perspective and grow weary, but He is faithful and provides the encouragement I need in countless ways.
And as I finish writing this I'm hearing a song in my head, no doubt placed there by Him...'Don't Stop Believing' by 'Journey'.
How appropriate! =D
Sunday, December 5, 2010
It's Christmas Time!
And so...it's Christmas time! A time set aside for us to reflect on the beautiful night long ago when our Savior was born to bring love, joy and peace to us. I will admit that I often see things differently than others, but I love looking for hidden messages and seeing what no one else even looks for! I blame the childhood magazine 'Highlights' for that. =D
I’m sure it was a beautiful night, clear, dark, blue skies, gold stars twinkling like diamonds in the sky, cool, crisp air filled with promise and hope. An unexplained tingle in the air for those who did not know all that was going on. You’ve seen the images of perfection portrayed on Christmas cards, paper plates, gift bags, hand painted ornaments and glazed pottery…all topped off with a sheen of angelic light.
But I’m a realist and I can’t help but wonder if on THAT night…The exact night that Jesus was born….would Mary have described it so? Let’s look at the facts: At a very young age Mary finally comes of the end of what was culturally a suspicious, ridiculed and likely hidden pregnancy and is told that Joseph, out of concern for she and the baby, does not want to leave her in Nazareth while he travels to Bethlehem for the census because the baby would most likely be born while he was away. So she travels with him at approximately 37 weeks pregnant …on a donkey…across hills, down into river valleys, for 100 miles…on a donkey…for 2-3 weeks, wearing some type of muslin that did not contain any spandex or lycra for stretching purposes or fleece for warmth... on a donkey...knocking on all the doors of inns and being led to an area fit only for smelly animals...laboring on hay with no Demerol, no epidural, no episiotomy! Compare that to today when they won’t even let you fly or drive long distances if you are beyond 30 weeks?
We know that Mary was very devout in her faith, and sincere in her love for her Lord, but she was also human and I am relatively certain that the pain of delivering a baby has not changed over time. Which leads me to wonder if she would she have described the inconvenience, discomfort and accommodations that could only be described as “one ‘star’” as “Beautiful”?
As I contemplated that question, I began to remember a few “beautiful nights” in my life. Here are two:
Ed and I were married in 1989 and moved to Houston three months after we married. Our first son was born four years later. My pregnancy with him was not remarkable in any special way. I quit my job 3 weeks before he was born to get everything ready for his arrival. I had back labor for several hours before I was given my epidural. Josiah did not respond well to the medication being administered through the epidural. I can still hear the beeping of my babies heart monitor slowing down at a frightening rate that caused everyone in the room to move in to hyper-drive. Within 4 minutes, I had been prepped for an emergency C-section and Josiah had been taken out of my belly and whisked away. I remember waiting to hear the ear-piercing cry of my newborn. Suddenly the lovely sound of life emanated from the corner of the room. Throughout the entire ordeal, I was calm, and very aware of the prayers that were being offered up on our behalf in the waiting room.
On March 11, 2009. Ed and I celebrated our 20th anniversary. Without my knowing, Ed had arranged for us to return to the same hotel…same room...in which we spent our honeymoon (yes, we are detail people). To say that I was surprised would be an understatement. Walking back into that room, which by the way had been re-decorated and updated, was like stepping back into time. It was emotionally over-whelming. It really was as if a movie of all of our 'beautiful nights' over the past twenty years flashed before my eyes: Get married. Move to Houston. Learn how to live with a 28 yr. old neat freak who has strong preferences for how things are done. Have one baby boy. Learn to parent with a man who was not raised like I was and defines parenting differently than I do. Oh yeah…die to my rights. Discover how hard it was to be a mom and a wife. Have another baby boy. Struggle with my sense of self worth as a stay at home mom. Die, again, to my rights. Lose my father in law to cancer. Question every thought I’ve had about God. Lay down my need to understand. Move to DFW. What? Homeschool?... But the music that played in the background as the movie raced by was not frantic like the moving pictures…it was a gentle, hushed melody of serenity.
You see Mary and I had something in common…a word from God…a promise that brought PEACE to us in the middle of situations that were at times uncomfortable and challenging.
The peace that Mary had was because of the THE word (John 1:14…word became flesh) from God she carried that gave her purpose through His promise. That sustained her through the suspicion, the 100 mile donkey trip and barnyard delivery. In Luke 1:28 we read that an angel went to her and said “Greetings, you who are highly favored? The Lord is with you.” She knew she was not alone, or experiencing difficulty outside of His plan for her life.
My promise for Josiah’s life came in the form of a written prophetic word, given to us by a close family friend. It stated very clearly that “the enemy’s attempt to snatch the seed, would not prevail and the child would grow to become a mighty Man of God”. I remember thinking those words as the organized chaos ensued around me. My God had spoken and I KNEW my child would live.
The background music that played as 20 years of 'beautiful nights' flashed by was not frantic because of the promise I had from God regarding my marriage. You see being the good pastor and wife that we were when we married, we actually went to church, on our honeymoon, on a Sunday night! We honeymooned in San Antonio and the man who had preached the night Ed got saved, was pastoring a church there. Ed thought it would be nice to see him and hear him preach again. However when we arrived, we were told that they had a special guest speaker…and we stayed??? We were told he would speak on prophecy…which to me meant a boring sermon about the end of time from the book of Revelation! My attitude began to go south at this point, because I could think of much better things to do on my honeymoon, than hear about the end of time. I remember sitting through the sermon thinking that nothing he said made any sense to me and certainly did not sound like an end time message. Then for his conclusion he said he would now demonstrate what he had been speaking about. He asked if there was a couple from LA, on their honeymoon, in the crowd. We stood up thinking we were being ‘punked’. He began to tell us things about our lives that no one in that room could have known and ultimately told us that our marriage would be the fulfillment of what our parents marriages were not. So throughout any difficult season in our marriage, I’ve held on to that promise and with it, God has seen me through.
We have peace because we have promise.
Do you have a word from God that has not been fulfilled completely? Do you have a promise from God’s Word? Here are a few promises that should bring us great peace.
Psalm 91:14-16 Those who love me, I will deliver; I will protect those who know my name. When they call to me, I will answer them; I will be with them in trouble, I will rescue them and honor them. With long life I will satisfy them, and show them my salvation.
Isaiah 43:1b-3a Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. For I am the Lord you God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.
2 Corinthians 12:9 My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness
Isaiah 54:10 (Amplified Bible) For though the mountains should depart and the hills be shaken or removed, yet My love and kindness shall not depart from you, nor shall My covenant of peace and completeness be removed, says the Lord, Who has compassion on you.
Isaiah 42:16 I will lead the blind by ways they have not known, along unfamiliar paths I will guide them, I will turn the darkness into light before them and make the rough places smooth. These are the things I will do; I will not forsake them.
The benefit of focusing on these and other promises is...
John 14:27 (New King James Version)
Peace I leave with you, My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid
Here’s what God’s peace looks like:
Philippians 4:7 (Amplified Bible) And God's peace shall be yours, that tranquil state of a soul assured of its salvation through Christ, and so, fearing nothing from God and being content with its earthly lot of whatever sort that is, that peace which transcends all understanding shall garrison and mount a guard over your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.
And so really, I just want to encourage you to find the beauty in your circumstance. Whether you are struggling with life right now or not. Look beyond your wealth and success or look beyond your discomfort and inconvenience BUT focus on the promises of God. Remember that it is Promise that brings Peace. Hold fast to the promises He has given. If you don’t feel like you have a promise…read your Bible. I just shared a few that are in there. If you want a more personal ‘word’ from God…ask for it! Always remember that He knows what you are feeling, and experiencing. He cares and LOVES you more than you can ever comprehend.
Oh! and Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas! =D
I’m sure it was a beautiful night, clear, dark, blue skies, gold stars twinkling like diamonds in the sky, cool, crisp air filled with promise and hope. An unexplained tingle in the air for those who did not know all that was going on. You’ve seen the images of perfection portrayed on Christmas cards, paper plates, gift bags, hand painted ornaments and glazed pottery…all topped off with a sheen of angelic light.
But I’m a realist and I can’t help but wonder if on THAT night…The exact night that Jesus was born….would Mary have described it so? Let’s look at the facts: At a very young age Mary finally comes of the end of what was culturally a suspicious, ridiculed and likely hidden pregnancy and is told that Joseph, out of concern for she and the baby, does not want to leave her in Nazareth while he travels to Bethlehem for the census because the baby would most likely be born while he was away. So she travels with him at approximately 37 weeks pregnant …on a donkey…across hills, down into river valleys, for 100 miles…on a donkey…for 2-3 weeks, wearing some type of muslin that did not contain any spandex or lycra for stretching purposes or fleece for warmth... on a donkey...knocking on all the doors of inns and being led to an area fit only for smelly animals...laboring on hay with no Demerol, no epidural, no episiotomy! Compare that to today when they won’t even let you fly or drive long distances if you are beyond 30 weeks?
We know that Mary was very devout in her faith, and sincere in her love for her Lord, but she was also human and I am relatively certain that the pain of delivering a baby has not changed over time. Which leads me to wonder if she would she have described the inconvenience, discomfort and accommodations that could only be described as “one ‘star’” as “Beautiful”?
As I contemplated that question, I began to remember a few “beautiful nights” in my life. Here are two:
Ed and I were married in 1989 and moved to Houston three months after we married. Our first son was born four years later. My pregnancy with him was not remarkable in any special way. I quit my job 3 weeks before he was born to get everything ready for his arrival. I had back labor for several hours before I was given my epidural. Josiah did not respond well to the medication being administered through the epidural. I can still hear the beeping of my babies heart monitor slowing down at a frightening rate that caused everyone in the room to move in to hyper-drive. Within 4 minutes, I had been prepped for an emergency C-section and Josiah had been taken out of my belly and whisked away. I remember waiting to hear the ear-piercing cry of my newborn. Suddenly the lovely sound of life emanated from the corner of the room. Throughout the entire ordeal, I was calm, and very aware of the prayers that were being offered up on our behalf in the waiting room.
On March 11, 2009. Ed and I celebrated our 20th anniversary. Without my knowing, Ed had arranged for us to return to the same hotel…same room...in which we spent our honeymoon (yes, we are detail people). To say that I was surprised would be an understatement. Walking back into that room, which by the way had been re-decorated and updated, was like stepping back into time. It was emotionally over-whelming. It really was as if a movie of all of our 'beautiful nights' over the past twenty years flashed before my eyes: Get married. Move to Houston. Learn how to live with a 28 yr. old neat freak who has strong preferences for how things are done. Have one baby boy. Learn to parent with a man who was not raised like I was and defines parenting differently than I do. Oh yeah…die to my rights. Discover how hard it was to be a mom and a wife. Have another baby boy. Struggle with my sense of self worth as a stay at home mom. Die, again, to my rights. Lose my father in law to cancer. Question every thought I’ve had about God. Lay down my need to understand. Move to DFW. What? Homeschool?... But the music that played in the background as the movie raced by was not frantic like the moving pictures…it was a gentle, hushed melody of serenity.
You see Mary and I had something in common…a word from God…a promise that brought PEACE to us in the middle of situations that were at times uncomfortable and challenging.
The peace that Mary had was because of the THE word (John 1:14…word became flesh) from God she carried that gave her purpose through His promise. That sustained her through the suspicion, the 100 mile donkey trip and barnyard delivery. In Luke 1:28 we read that an angel went to her and said “Greetings, you who are highly favored? The Lord is with you.” She knew she was not alone, or experiencing difficulty outside of His plan for her life.
My promise for Josiah’s life came in the form of a written prophetic word, given to us by a close family friend. It stated very clearly that “the enemy’s attempt to snatch the seed, would not prevail and the child would grow to become a mighty Man of God”. I remember thinking those words as the organized chaos ensued around me. My God had spoken and I KNEW my child would live.
The background music that played as 20 years of 'beautiful nights' flashed by was not frantic because of the promise I had from God regarding my marriage. You see being the good pastor and wife that we were when we married, we actually went to church, on our honeymoon, on a Sunday night! We honeymooned in San Antonio and the man who had preached the night Ed got saved, was pastoring a church there. Ed thought it would be nice to see him and hear him preach again. However when we arrived, we were told that they had a special guest speaker…and we stayed??? We were told he would speak on prophecy…which to me meant a boring sermon about the end of time from the book of Revelation! My attitude began to go south at this point, because I could think of much better things to do on my honeymoon, than hear about the end of time. I remember sitting through the sermon thinking that nothing he said made any sense to me and certainly did not sound like an end time message. Then for his conclusion he said he would now demonstrate what he had been speaking about. He asked if there was a couple from LA, on their honeymoon, in the crowd. We stood up thinking we were being ‘punked’. He began to tell us things about our lives that no one in that room could have known and ultimately told us that our marriage would be the fulfillment of what our parents marriages were not. So throughout any difficult season in our marriage, I’ve held on to that promise and with it, God has seen me through.
We have peace because we have promise.
Do you have a word from God that has not been fulfilled completely? Do you have a promise from God’s Word? Here are a few promises that should bring us great peace.
Psalm 91:14-16 Those who love me, I will deliver; I will protect those who know my name. When they call to me, I will answer them; I will be with them in trouble, I will rescue them and honor them. With long life I will satisfy them, and show them my salvation.
Isaiah 43:1b-3a Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. For I am the Lord you God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.
2 Corinthians 12:9 My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness
Isaiah 54:10 (Amplified Bible) For though the mountains should depart and the hills be shaken or removed, yet My love and kindness shall not depart from you, nor shall My covenant of peace and completeness be removed, says the Lord, Who has compassion on you.
Isaiah 42:16 I will lead the blind by ways they have not known, along unfamiliar paths I will guide them, I will turn the darkness into light before them and make the rough places smooth. These are the things I will do; I will not forsake them.
The benefit of focusing on these and other promises is...
John 14:27 (New King James Version)
Peace I leave with you, My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid
Here’s what God’s peace looks like:
Philippians 4:7 (Amplified Bible) And God's peace shall be yours, that tranquil state of a soul assured of its salvation through Christ, and so, fearing nothing from God and being content with its earthly lot of whatever sort that is, that peace which transcends all understanding shall garrison and mount a guard over your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.
And so really, I just want to encourage you to find the beauty in your circumstance. Whether you are struggling with life right now or not. Look beyond your wealth and success or look beyond your discomfort and inconvenience BUT focus on the promises of God. Remember that it is Promise that brings Peace. Hold fast to the promises He has given. If you don’t feel like you have a promise…read your Bible. I just shared a few that are in there. If you want a more personal ‘word’ from God…ask for it! Always remember that He knows what you are feeling, and experiencing. He cares and LOVES you more than you can ever comprehend.
Oh! and Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas! =D
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Seasons Change
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!
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!
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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