Come Close

Find a quiet spot.  Sit for these few moments and soak in the sounds and sights here.  More than words this morning...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CHV6BjuQOZQ

Enjoy Your Breakfast

In the beginning of one powerful letter written a long time ago it is stated that God’s grace is “lavished on us with all wisdom and understanding.”  I heard it once described as akin to the way a child pours syrup over pancakes.  We start to see the idea.

This weekend I heard this passage again and afterward, in sitting with it a little more, dug into the background of the word lavish.  We know it means abundant and given without restriction.  But it also has a Latin root that means “to wash.”  As we receive God’s grace, there is apparently a cleaning and purifying that happens in the process.  God, in His pleasure--which is noted more than once in the paragraph also, would choose such a way. He does not give begrudingly.

I was also struck by the other part of the phrase...that He gives grace “with all wisdom and understanding.”  I don’t know about you, but I am much more inclined to invest where there is the likelihood that what I give will be received, appreciated, and beneficial. God, on the other hand, has so much for us that He keeps pouring and pouring without holding back.  He knows our condition and doesn’t wait until we “get it” to give the blessing.  He lets us swim in the ocean of His goodness, hoping perhaps that the gulps of it we inevitably swallow as we swim around toward other things, will affect us and increasing our appetite for more of what He is offering.  

Grace...the gift that keeps coming. We can eat our spiritual breakfast without restraint and be cleaned at the same time.  Gotta love God’s economy!  It is inexhaustible.  Sweet heavenly syrup.  A mystery to discover, a feast to explore.

Photograph from morguefile.com by cheriedurbin

Hearing

We can learn to hear the voice of God.  Don’t move too quickly from that statement.  Backup a moment and read it again.  Sit with that thought until you are in awe of the opportunity and the magnitude of what that means.  

We learn to hear well by being in the scriptures and by listening prayer and by praying with others and listening together.  It is not something that can be gained if we are driven by productivity and efficiency and by constant “doing.”  Hearing is first a “being” thing.

Technology is a wonderful gift, but seems to increasingly fill our focus, mind, eyes, and ears.  When was the last time you just sat in the quiet for more than a few minutes?   Listening is a rare gift.  Many of us don’t stop talking and/or are planning our next thoughts to speak instead of hearing what the person with us is saying.  It is not a natural thing in our culture to stop, to focus, to hear, but when we do, there is much to be gained.  

I am grateful to live in a place that offers quiet.  Part of my routine through the years has been to get up early--sometimes it was the only quiet offered me in a day. Fortunately my body is naturally geared to that clock, but I have attempted to be present and focused, and to mine what is to be discovered in the quiet.  It seems best to me start the day that way, but I don’t think quiet has to fall in that block of the day.  I would just encourage you to try to block out some time (start with 10 minutes if you aren’t used to the practice) and begin.  Tell God you’d like to begin hearing what He is wanting to speak to you.  Have a paper and pen handy.  Jot on the right side of the page anything that begins to distract you so you can re-focus but won’t forget to tend to the need later, but try not to use the 10 minutes to compile a to-do list of everything that comes to mind, which might be the case once you let your mind start to quiet.  On the left side, jot down anything you start to hear.  

Photograph from morguefile.com by Penywise

Equipped

When did we start believing we were too small to make a difference?

“God has not given us a spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.”  Remember who you are.

Photo by Audrey Hickinbotham, adapted by a friend.

The Party's On!

We seem to be more comfortable with God the judge than God the party giver.  In a courtroom things are cut and dried and we can often anticipate the outcome and are too happy to cheer at a guilty verdict.  But God the party-planner pulls out all the stops and has surprise after surprise up His holy sleeve.

Where He is he host, blind eyes can healed. Murderers and adulterers and addicts can be forgiven. And so can gossipers and over-indulgers.  People get launched into unexpected careers that they had no vision of or belief that it was possible---a fisherman gets handed the keys of a kingdom.  But equally surprising is that so do you and I.  

We get to set about our days bringing the party to earth.  What else would you call it when the password has been given to you and the details whispered in your ear and the invitation to bring along everyone you want?  You get to tell anyone hungry that the chef has arrived and the meal is ready and that there is a place waiting for them.  The doctor will be there, to heal everything they knew was wrong and some things that they didn’t even have on their list of ailments.  The gatekeeper will have in hand the key not only to let them in, but for the lock on their shackles and cuffs--and any attendee will be able to dance the night away, and then walk home without taking their chains back with them.  The party will have such a festive light that it will forever burn inside of them once they’ve been there, and it will be impossible for any darkness to put out its wick ever again.  

Not only that, but from now on, anyone who comes to the party will also become a proclaimer and invitation-giver themselves (for the party won’t be stopping anytime soon).  They will be able to comfort those who are in dark corners doubting if festivities exist anywhere.  They will carry around the party favors they receive every time they return to His events and fill their pockets with them to share with those who haven’t yet heard.  The take home souvenirs are not cheap paper and plastic trinkets, but the gold of the King’s treasury.  Those who carry them to share become recognizable as they proclaim good news, bring comfort to the hurting in their community, are known for their generosity, sit with those who have lost hope and tend to the small wick damp from tears until the warmth of truth dries it out a bit and love shared rekindles it.

They are known as being people of hope, not of despair, and they are rebuilders of even ancient ruins.  (Isaiah 61:1-4, Luke 4:18-21)

The party is on!  The music is playing (you’ve probably heard it on quiet nights)!  Spread the word.  It’s “come as you are.” And He’ll be delighted you are there.  

Photograph from morguefile by violetdragonfly

In Good Hands

A day at home due to a nagging headache. Enjoying the quiet of the porch and overall quiet as our power is out. Prayer time for direction and vision, reminding myself of God's utter faithfulness, ability, care, creativity. A few moments ago I glanced down and realized that the blister healing on my foot is heart shaped. A sweet reminder and confirmation that even the wounds we suffer are kissed with His love as we trust forward. I may not get the answers or clarity I long for today; He is good nonetheless.

Photo by Anita

Hold It

The word “hold” was buzzing around my mind this morning.  This weekend was a major sorting of our home, after an equally thorough sorting at momma’s over these last weeks.  Mom had acquired a lot over her 90 years.  I notice that most of us seem to fill up the spaces we have, and sometimes rent storage units for the overflow.  Just writing that sentence threatens to distract me to the topic of clutter, but I will resist that for now.

“Holding” (in my hands) was what I did with hundreds of items lately, determining their meaning, both sentimental and functional.  Would I “hold” onto them, or pass along, or destine them to the garage sale pile or the thrift store bag?  

“Holding on” to what my sister last night described as “the years before we knew there was hurting in the world” was what I desired as items brought memories to the surface and coasted me on on some smooth mental surfboard back and forth across the waves of the decades.  

On “hold” was I would have preferred...not to have to do the process of letting go of momma’s life, or of the preparation toward selling our home and the land that has nestled and inspired us, been a place we’ve welcomed people in and served from, been the touchstone place of much prayer, the strategic planning table of many projects and events, the place where a parent’s heart blended in sometimes patched stitches with cook, laundress, kisser of scraped knees, caller on and disciplinarian, and prayerful intercessor over the almost three decades of time we’ve called this bountiful place “home.”

“Hold” is what I recognize again this morning that God has done...getting a man home from war, the merging of two lives as he met and married a home-town girl, the passing of years that brought three little girls into the world, and all the twists and turns as the three of us grew up, married, and birthed children, careers, events, and good deeds as we had energy and time and vision for.  God is generous, masterful, complete in being faithful and brilliant in His unsurpassed ways of availability and creativity.  

My heart holds a summer bouquet of gratitude this morning for the abundance of it all, for the life I have lived, for the murky and turbulent waters that He has navigated me through and for the hope that has wafted through every day and called me forward to experience what has been just around the corner as His care and provision.    

Photograph from morguefile.com by svklimkin