Last week I read a soul-stirring devotional written by a dear friend's husband. The topic was on praying for God to give us our daily bread. He made the comparison of us receiving daily bread much like a hungry child consumes a meal -- taking big bites, scarfing it down quickly with no time to savor, eating as if she will never see food again. In my house, the chief goal of completing dinner is to get to DESSERT! Just as children can be greedy consumers, so can I. As quickly as I receive God's provision in the midst of a crazy day, I often go on to act like He won't provide for tomorrow's problems. So I worry and stir the waters of anxiety in my soul.
Part of the problem is not taking "small bites", not savoring what God gives and letting it nourish trust in my starved soul. But a bigger problem for me is not liking God's provision. I want to hurry through the unpleasant to get to dessert. Let me learn my lessons fast, so God will bring me blessing. I'm not willing to savor the ongoing process of God nourishing my soul over time. I want the quick and tasty spiritual blessings of peace and joy and love! ( Forget longsuffering, self-control and patience!)
As I was processing this devotional the other morning, God brought a phrase from Psalm 23 to mind: "You prepare a table for me in the presence of my enemies." The meaning for me was instantly clear: God is providing for me even when I feel oppressed. Oppression is my enemy and is often accompanied by Despair, Anger, Unforgiveness and Self-Pity. When difficulties mount and pain swells, I am quite sure God is not providing for me. I want my daily bread to be sweet, yummy and easy to swallow. Anything less and I question the goodness of the One offering it.
But what if daily bread sometimes comes packaged differently? What if God is actually nourishing my soul with a crazy diet of frustrated goals, relational pain and unmet longings? To be perfectly frank, what I really want is to feed myself. I would love a spiritual "meal planner" that left me inspired, motivated and more righteous. I would like a 7-point plan for following God and having victory. But I don't want to be reduced to a place of neediness and total dependence on God's provision. That feels scary and very out-of-control.
But I am suspecting that is precisely why God brings a crazy diet of dashed dreams, disappointments and pain. He is bringing me to the end of feeding myself. He is reducing me to a place of need, so to give me the spiritual food that really satisfies. He is giving me the faith of a child and feeding me with simple truthes. God is good. He can be trusted. He works ALL things to His good. Jesus loves me. Nothing can separate me from God's love.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Best Efforts
This morning I got out a recipe for soup to make for dinner tonight, made a grocery list and laid plans to cook dinner before the afternoon driving started! But my efforts at organization were once again FOILED when the recipe disappeared! A thirty minute search failed to located it! A quick google search failed to find it! Where is the black hole in my house that so many things seem to disappear into: a lone flip-flop, a book of stamps, the dog's choke collar, important papers, a textbook. . . ?!!!
The lost recipe today seems like such a metaphor for my life: good intentions -- focused effort -- thwarted outcome. I am tired of trying and feeling crossed at every turn. I want control and it continues to elude me. It happened in school today when the boys whined, complained, evaded, distracted, disrupted and teased. What I want for them is good. Why is it so hard to achieve? Why does gratitude and self-discipline seem to disappear down that black hole with my recipe?
I was so tired and defeated by 3:00, I actually did something that is normally unthinkeable in the middle of the day. I pulled out a Bible and let it fall open to the first chapter of James:
Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing
of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be
perfect and complete, lacking in nothing. (verses 2-4)
What I hate more than losing things is feeling like my best efforts don't matter. And here is James saying, "take another look at these hard things. . . they matter. . . they serve a purpose. . . . they are re-making you and bringing wholeness and hope into your life. Look at trials in the right light and you can actually be thankful for them, even joyful."
Bring it, Lord. Change my perspective. Help me embrace the black hole as an instrument in Your hand. Let me believe that in "taking away" you are working to complete me. Give me joy in the midst of hard.
(The funny thing about the lost recipe is that it forced me to make the soup from memory. I had to "wing it" and the result was surprisingly delicious. Mmmmm. . . . I think God was highlighting the message for me.)
The lost recipe today seems like such a metaphor for my life: good intentions -- focused effort -- thwarted outcome. I am tired of trying and feeling crossed at every turn. I want control and it continues to elude me. It happened in school today when the boys whined, complained, evaded, distracted, disrupted and teased. What I want for them is good. Why is it so hard to achieve? Why does gratitude and self-discipline seem to disappear down that black hole with my recipe?
I was so tired and defeated by 3:00, I actually did something that is normally unthinkeable in the middle of the day. I pulled out a Bible and let it fall open to the first chapter of James:
Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing
of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be
perfect and complete, lacking in nothing. (verses 2-4)
What I hate more than losing things is feeling like my best efforts don't matter. And here is James saying, "take another look at these hard things. . . they matter. . . they serve a purpose. . . . they are re-making you and bringing wholeness and hope into your life. Look at trials in the right light and you can actually be thankful for them, even joyful."
Bring it, Lord. Change my perspective. Help me embrace the black hole as an instrument in Your hand. Let me believe that in "taking away" you are working to complete me. Give me joy in the midst of hard.
(The funny thing about the lost recipe is that it forced me to make the soup from memory. I had to "wing it" and the result was surprisingly delicious. Mmmmm. . . . I think God was highlighting the message for me.)
Sunday, January 8, 2012
A Word for the Year
For me, a new year usually begins with fresh resolutions. I love the blank page and the newness that suggests a better year. More organization, discipline in exercise, healthy eating, reading good books: these are common themes that I can energetically rally around in January of each year.
But this year a dear friend suggested to me choosing a word for the year, instead of composing a list of resolutions. This word would incorporate a character quality that I would try to practice throughout the year. Mmmmm. . . . this intrigued me and I was immediately besieged with a list of characters qualities I would like to have more of: patience, gratitude, humility, etc. . . !! How to choose?!
God scooped out a space in my heart. I wanted a word that I could plant and nurture and grow. Five days later as I sat in church, God dropped the word like a seed into the soil of my heart: YIELDEDNESS. I didn't hear the word in a song or the sermon. It's not a word I use. And my spell check does note even recognize it! But in the stillness of a worship service, God pressed this word into my heart.
As God is so capable of doing, He had already been doing groundwork to prepare me. The day before was one of the last days of Christmas vacation and I had designated it to be my "workday". Mark agreed to take the kids and I planned to work on lesson plans. I was staring down a demanding January and February and desperately needed to get some advance planning accomplished. I had two places I needed to go and the rest of the day at my disposal. But these were not simply places to go; they were people to visit. Five minutes at my parents became an hour of conversation. Ten minutes with a friend became a lengthy intervention about her health challenges. No doubt, I was meant to linger at each place. But my "work time" was largely sacrificed. As I drove home, I could feel anxiety rising and God speaking, "You can trust me with this. This was my plan for you today. Trust me."
I didn't get my work done that night and the next day God spoke the word "yieldedness" to me. Immediately, I knew that this was a variation on an emerging theme in my life: radical dependency. A few years ago I finally figured out that life really was too big for me. I didn't have enough organization, enough energy or enough wisdom to "make life work". Every day was big and unpredictable and I pictured myself as a toddler holding both of her daddy's hands just to walk across the room. Life was big and I needed God to be bigger in my life.
Yieldedness means laying down my desires every day. It means offering up my "to do" list and submitting my agenda, however good, for God's agenda. Yieldedness is laying down my tendency to control people and circumstances in an attempt to keep my life manageable. Yieldedness may look impractical and inefficient and even foolish. It is not a formula, but more of a posture. Yieldedness is rooted in the belief that God's ways are better than my ways. It comes from a heart that doubts my own wisdom, but trusts God's.
Yieldedness is a tall order for this girl who loves control and competency. It's like falling out a plane day after day. But what I'm really doing is falling on my Father day after day. The fall is scary, but the landing is sure. His arms are safe, His ways are trustworthy.
The day after "the word," I opened my Bible to begin reading through Psalms. I read these words in the first Psalm: "Blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of wicked, or stand in the way of sinners or sit in the seat of mockers. But, his delight is in the law of the LORD, and on his law he meditates day and night. He is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season. . . " (v. 1-3) This was God's sweet confirmation of "the word for the year" and His encouragement that "yieldedness" is not only hard work, but a brings sweet fruit.
But this year a dear friend suggested to me choosing a word for the year, instead of composing a list of resolutions. This word would incorporate a character quality that I would try to practice throughout the year. Mmmmm. . . . this intrigued me and I was immediately besieged with a list of characters qualities I would like to have more of: patience, gratitude, humility, etc. . . !! How to choose?!
God scooped out a space in my heart. I wanted a word that I could plant and nurture and grow. Five days later as I sat in church, God dropped the word like a seed into the soil of my heart: YIELDEDNESS. I didn't hear the word in a song or the sermon. It's not a word I use. And my spell check does note even recognize it! But in the stillness of a worship service, God pressed this word into my heart.
As God is so capable of doing, He had already been doing groundwork to prepare me. The day before was one of the last days of Christmas vacation and I had designated it to be my "workday". Mark agreed to take the kids and I planned to work on lesson plans. I was staring down a demanding January and February and desperately needed to get some advance planning accomplished. I had two places I needed to go and the rest of the day at my disposal. But these were not simply places to go; they were people to visit. Five minutes at my parents became an hour of conversation. Ten minutes with a friend became a lengthy intervention about her health challenges. No doubt, I was meant to linger at each place. But my "work time" was largely sacrificed. As I drove home, I could feel anxiety rising and God speaking, "You can trust me with this. This was my plan for you today. Trust me."
I didn't get my work done that night and the next day God spoke the word "yieldedness" to me. Immediately, I knew that this was a variation on an emerging theme in my life: radical dependency. A few years ago I finally figured out that life really was too big for me. I didn't have enough organization, enough energy or enough wisdom to "make life work". Every day was big and unpredictable and I pictured myself as a toddler holding both of her daddy's hands just to walk across the room. Life was big and I needed God to be bigger in my life.
Yieldedness means laying down my desires every day. It means offering up my "to do" list and submitting my agenda, however good, for God's agenda. Yieldedness is laying down my tendency to control people and circumstances in an attempt to keep my life manageable. Yieldedness may look impractical and inefficient and even foolish. It is not a formula, but more of a posture. Yieldedness is rooted in the belief that God's ways are better than my ways. It comes from a heart that doubts my own wisdom, but trusts God's.
Yieldedness is a tall order for this girl who loves control and competency. It's like falling out a plane day after day. But what I'm really doing is falling on my Father day after day. The fall is scary, but the landing is sure. His arms are safe, His ways are trustworthy.
The day after "the word," I opened my Bible to begin reading through Psalms. I read these words in the first Psalm: "Blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of wicked, or stand in the way of sinners or sit in the seat of mockers. But, his delight is in the law of the LORD, and on his law he meditates day and night. He is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season. . . " (v. 1-3) This was God's sweet confirmation of "the word for the year" and His encouragement that "yieldedness" is not only hard work, but a brings sweet fruit.
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