Category: Lent

Lent Day Eight: Naive

On more than one occasion, I have been accused of being naïve, so I went and looked up the meaning.

According to dictionary.com:
1. having or showing unaffected simplicity of nature or absence of artificiality; unsophisticated; ingenuous.
2. having or showing a lack of experience, judgment, or information; credulous: She’s so naive she believes everything she reads. He has a very naive attitude toward politics.
3. having or marked by a simple, unaffectedly direct style reflecting little or no formal training or technique: valuable naive 19th-century American portrait paintings.
4. not having previously been the subject of a scientific experiment, as an animal.
I think I’m ok with that. But that wasn’t always the case.

Back in the mid-nineties, I felt led to pursue my Doctor of Ministries degree. It seemed like the logical thing to do. I applied to the denominational seminary of the church I was a part of. I completed the first seminar and was totally in love with being back in school again. I raced into the second course with all kinds of enthusiasm and anticipation. Unfortunately, I ran headlong into a professor who rigidly held to position and style of teaching. I wasn’t deep enough or reflective enough. I didn’t see things his way. He wanted to fail me. I worked hard in the course and tried to present my position and perspective. I was told that if I was hoped to advance in the process I would have to learn to “jump through the hoops” placed before me. I’m not a very good jumper, so I dropped out of the program.

I’m especially happy that my brand of naivety includes the fourth definition from the list above! But the more I think about it, the more I believe that Jesus was looking for a certain level of naiveté from his own. Do you remember when the disciples were trying to identify their own importance, and how Jesus put them in their place?

1At that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, “Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?”
2He called a little child and had him stand among them. 3And he said: “I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. 4Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. (Matthew 18:1-4, NIV)

I’d rather be simple than cynical, or arrogant. I’d rather be real than artificial (reminds me of Paul’s instruction to the Romans that their love was to be without hypocrisy). I want to be credulous. I want to be ready to believe and to trust. I especially want that kind of relationship with the creator of the universe who invites you and me to call him, “Daddy.”

Lent Day Seven: Accountability

In seminary, the first time around, I took a preaching course with Dr. Charles Munson. I was pastoring my first church and such an absolute rookie. One day in class, he made this statement: “There are no secret disciples. Either the disciple will kill the secret, or the secret will kill the disciple.”

When that quote came to mind this morning, I was thinking about confession and accountability. Yesterday I was reading my “Writer’s Digest” magazine and I came upon information regarding their spring writing contests. I thought to myself: I could do that. The longer I thought it became: I’m going to do that. I did a little more research and gave it a little more thought and then come evening I told my husband. Now I’m locked in. He won’t let me forget. And that’s exactly why I told him: he will hold my feet to the fire of accountability.

I was taught the ABC’s of faith were: accept, believe, and confess. We can do the first two privately, but the third sends us straight into accountability. Do you see that as good or bad? When I was still working as a family counselor, I worked with an agency that had several therapists with several levels of experience and licensure. There was a woman there who had “Independent” status who chaffed at the thought of supervision. She felt she was beyond that and resented someone looking over her shoulder. I was a rookie at the time so I was used to having my work scrutinized. Later, it was lack of accountability that had disastrous results.

I love the account of the disciples hanging out in the Upper Room until Pentecost. Imagine the scene. These folks had to learn how to be together. There were so many different kinds of folks. Trust was the furthest thing from their minds or experiences. Zealots, tax collectors, ex-prostitutes, and fishermen had to learn to get along. Miraculously, it worked. They were able to connect and when they did a power came on them like one this world had never seen.

What happened in that room? I think they learned to tell their story, the story of what Jesus had done for them, done in them. And they learned to listen. They talked about their dreams and what they hoped to accomplish with their lives for God and for the Kingdom. They told their secrets and became accountable to one another. And it changed the world.

What secret desires has God been wanting to unwrap and unleash in your life? Tell someone. Get accountable. Allow God to work. You may be surprised at what power you free up to blow through your life and the lives around you!

Lent Day Six: Self-Denial

My life has been in a kind of Lent mode for quite some time. I’ve been living without some indulgences due to money crunching. Living on a budget forces us to really think about what is necessary and what can wait or not even be considered.

Interestingly, I was thinking about this on my way to work. I passed the gas station where I occasionally stopped for a tasty cappuccino. Before I knew it, I was driving by McDonald’s and I’m almost positive I heard a hazelnut iced coffee screaming out my name. But I just kept driving; and thinking as I drove. As I grew up I heard of people “giving up” chocolate or pizza for Lent. This year, Church Leaders were recommending to the faithful that they give up technology (computers, internet, and texting). I had trouble then and now making the spiritual connection between the items given up and God.

Did you give up something for Lent? Why? The purpose of giving something up is to make room for something else. Just as when we fast, we forego food to focus on God. As I thought about it I was reminded of the time when the Pharisees accused Jesus of casting out the demon by the power of Beelzebub. Through the story we’re warned of the danger of simply casting out something, in that case evil, without filling it up with something of God.

When I was in college one of my dearest friends challenged me to consider self denial. She made reference to Jesus’ instruction to the disciples to deny themselves and take up their cross (Mark 8:34). While many point to the cross as burden or pain, it has also been suggested that it is about mission and purpose. Understanding this began to help me put the pieces together.

I guess it could be about chocolate or the internet if the pursuit of those things keeps me from fulfilling my purpose. To know that, though, I believe I’m going to have to know what my mission is. Many years ago, as I began my ministry I felt directed to verse in Colossians as a guide for me as a pastor and as a person. Paul wrote: 2My purpose is that they may be encouraged in heart and united in love, so that they may have the full riches of complete understanding, in order that they may know the mystery of God, namely, Christ (Colossians 2:2).

These days, I have more time to live into what I think that verse is calling me to do and be. Each day as I reflect, I’m shone the things that I have planned that can keep me from fulfilling my purpose. If I am going to live as true follower of Christ, I’m going to have to give those things up, deny my selfish interests, and live on purpose for Christ. Personally, that’s something I have to do daily, just as Jesus invited me to do.

Do you know what your purpose, your mission is? Have you thought about what is holding you back from fulfilling your calling in Christ? Set it down and let Him fill you up!

Lent Day Five: Mindfulness

I was reading an article in a magazine about the benefits of mindfulness. Did you know:
-A study showed in 140 binge eaters mindfulness reduced binging 75%.
-Mindfulness eases anxiety by 44% and depression by 34% while increasing immunity.
-Mindfulness improves physical functioning and reduces pain.
-Mindfulness results in significant improvement in memory.
-Mindfulness strengthens relationships. (Prevention Magazine, January 2008)

Pretty impressive. Pretty good reasons to consider being mindful. What does it mean? According to dictionary.com, mindfulness is defined as: attentive, aware, or careful. I am of the opinion that this word, concept and practice, is very biblical.
Paul tells the Romans to be transformed by the renewing of their minds (12:2) and directs the Philippians to think on what is “whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy” (4:8). A quick search of “take care” brings up 117 references in the Old and New Testaments.

So it behooves us to “pay attention” in life. What have you been noticing as you race through life? What have you heard? What have you felt? There’s a current tissue commercial where a woman is going through her day with a “touch, touch, touch, touch…feel” experience. The point is we bump through life barely aware of the things we touch and that touch us. And just as the woman finally came across the best tissue and it caused her to feeeeeel something more deeply, we can come into the presence of the Almighty. Talk about feeling!

The Psalms assure us that God neither slumbers nor sleeps. David is overwhelmed by God’s attentiveness and questions in Psalm 8: who are we that you are mindful of us? Nothing happens in our lives, but God is aware. He knows when we are up all night. He knows when our job is about to phase out. He knows what the doctor just told us. He knows. And he is mindful, attentive and caring.

Today, don’t just bump mindlessly through your appointments and contacts, your shopping and banking. Yesterday, we were invited to look. Now, we are invited to be mindful of the one who is mindful of us.

Lent Day Four: Here’s Looking At You

When I worked at Curves, one of the first things we would do with new members (after we orient them to the whole program) is complete a figure analysis. Basically, we would have them mount the dreaded weight determiner and grab the tape measure to find out the sum total of their girth. Did that sound ominous? It was supposed to. The dread that most of those women feel in that moment is colossal. They had spent so much time and energy avoiding the truth, that it was a very scary and humbling task to meet it—and in the presence of another person, yet!

Perhaps you’ve never thought of it this way, but it’s very easy to not see what you don’t look at. How many of you read your food labels? Before you sign off on something, do you read all the fine print? The list could go on and on of things external, but what about things within? On the one hand, we could consider all the health signals that we’ve ignored, the doctor’s visits we’ve postponed because we didn’t want to hear what they had to say. Then there’s the stuff of spirit and emotions that we’ve opted not look at either. The AA people understand the importance of that honest self-inventory. What about relationships that we’ve ignored?

James invites us to the mirror: 22 But don’t just listen to God’s word. You must do what it says. Otherwise, you are only fooling yourselves. 23 For if you listen to the word and don’t obey, it is like glancing at your face in a mirror. 24 You see yourself, walk away, and forget what you look like. 25 But if you look carefully into the perfect law that sets you free, and if you do what it says and don’t forget what you heard, then God will bless you for doing it. (James 1:22-25)

So here’s your homework. Yes, homework. Carve out a few minutes from your very hectic schedule—that busyness is part of the problem. We stay busy to avoid having to give ourselves—and God more than a passing glance. You could sit at a table with pen and paper or you could stand in front of a full-length mirror. Do what works for you. But do this: ask God what you need to see. Ask for his forgiveness at avoiding, denying, and running. Stay long enough to hear his answers. Let him tell you how wonderful you are and how much he loves you. Then commit to giving him more than a passing glance.

Take that kind of time and you won’t forget it—or regret it.

Lent Day Three: How Long?

 

Hab. 3:2 O Lord, I have heard of your reknown, and I stand in awe, O Lord, of your work. In our own time revive it; in our own time make it known; in wrath may you remember mercy.

Many years ago, on a Saturday night, I turned to my husband and asked if he would bring a step ladder to church the next morning because I needed it for my sermon. The odd look he gave me was only momentary, he was used to my unusual requests when it came to sermons.

I was preaching from Habakkuk, the part where he went up into his prayer tower and asked God, “How long?” I used the ladder as my prayer tower and I asked God, “How long?”

I don’t always need a tower, or a ladder to ask that of God. Lately, each time I drive by a gas station I ask. I’ve found myself asking as my heart is breaking over the strained relationship between father and daughter. I ask as I listen to my friend tell me of her heartache over her very ill and aging parent. How long, God? How long will this go on? How long must I endure this? How long do they have to suffer? How long will they remain stubborn and separated? How long? How long?

I have never really understood the timing of God. I know that He is neither early or late. Mary and Martha probably didn’t think that when they finally saw Jesus show up four days after Lazarus had died. Four days. Really Jesus? Is that how much you cared? You couldn’t have come sooner? Can’t you hear their questions? Perhaps you’ve asked questions like they did.

Jesus is unphased by their questioning. That gives me hope. Jesus didn’t scold them. Maybe that means, like Mary and Martha, like Habakkuk, it’s okay for me to ask all my “how longs” as well. Maybe in the asking I’ll come to the place where Habakkuk arrived. He had seen God work and knew that the plan was happening according to God’s timing, and that timing was just right.

I have never been any good at waiting. I get impatient. I want it now, whatever the latest “it” might be. What I have learned, painfully at times, is that right now is not always the best time, and what I want is not always God’s best for me. One look through the Old Testament should convince me of that. Just look at all the tragic stories that come from rushing God’s timing and plan.

So maybe this Lenten season is the time to wait. Don’t make any major purchases, or any long term commitments. Instead of giving into our spontaneity and compulsive nature, we should seek to get in tune with God’s timing. Afterall, according to Habakkuk, it’s a pretty awesome thing!

Lent Day Two: A Servant’s Heart

Philippians 2:7 …he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant…

Would you serve on the building committee? Would you serve at the funeral luncheon? How many times have you been asked to serve? But have you ever thought about what it means to be a servant?

I’m a well educated woman. I do have three masters degrees and thousands of hours of training beyond them. I have many years of experience in my fields, and even some pretty significant recognition. But as the Apostle Paul describes his own pedigree, it’s all pretty much dung compared to knowing Christ. And I would add, and serving Him.

Currently I spend most of my days tending to the needs of an eighty-eight year old woman with dementia. I also care for her cats, her dog, her house, and I feed the birds. Then I come home and pretend to take care of my own house before my six year old grandson comes over and destroys it again. I color, draw, play games inside and out, feed, supervise bathing, and feed some more. I take my own dogs out to potty and for an occasional walk. I sing in the choir at church and I teach whenever I’m able. I give friends rides. I pray and I pray and I pray.  And to the complete surprise of many of my friends, I absolutely love my life.

As I took the dogs out this morning for their after breakfast potty break, I was soaking in the crispness of the air and the beauty of the sun peeking though the clouds. It felt so good to be right there in that moment. And as I closed my eyes to imprint the beauty in my mind, I felt that niggle that comes from the Spirit. Reminding me how many years ago I had knelt at an altar and prayed that God would give me a servant’s heart. At the time I was living a very arrogant Christian life: pious on the outside and self-reliant and self-serving on the inside. Oddly, I don’t think I wanted things to change as much as I wanted God to keep blessing the productive and successful way life was going. Perhaps that’s true on the surface, but something much deeper was working in me.

Through a series of very poor choices and a boat-load of self-reliance, I found my life looking a bit like Humpty Dumpty after the fall: broken into irreparable pieces. I could no longer rely on my pedigree. I had no experience of how to “be” or “do” life as it was coming at me. I was at the end of my rope and the knot was coming loose and the strands were raveling. Yet even there I found God’s grace.

Many people have commented that I’m not the same person I was ten years ago. Most of their comments come because I’m less the extroverted cheerleader and more comfortable with taking the introverted sideline role. The role of a servant.

I believe that God’s answer to my request for a servant’s heart involved the remaking of my heart and the reshaping of my mind. One of my favorite stories is that of a man who wants to be a monk, so he joins a monastery At this monastery there is no talking except once a year when the monks can say two words. The first year the new monk chose to say, “Bed hard.” The second year after tolerating a year of slop and gruel at mealtime chose to say, “Food bad.” The third year after suffering with a rash from his burlapesque robe he shared, “Clothes itch.” After that he was called into the head monk’s office where he was asked to leave. He asked why and was told that it was because of his attitude: all he did was complain.

Things have been getting progressively worse for my lady and I know that in the not too distant future I will need to secure new employment. That’s not easy for me, or anyone in this economy. I look in the paper and online for jobs, and I find myself praying and weeping. I want another job where I can serve. The old Tina would have been looking for some position in management or leadership. God would have to be very clear in His leadership back into that arena. My heart has been so tenderized, I’m not sure I could survive in that world any more. I’m not sure I want to.

I don’t know where this transformation will take me. What I do know is that I have an excellent model to follow; I won’t be complaining about serving; and the God who has brought me to this place will go with me wherever He leads. 

How about you?  How will you serve along this journey to the cross?