Category: Scripture ponderings

The Message in the Silence

This morning my daughter posted this on Facebook: Why is it that your kids don’t seem to hear you unless your yelling at them, but then they give you that pouty face that makes you feel sick for having yelled at them so they’d finally listen?! Being a parent sucks!

I will admit that my first thought was to smile, thinking of all the yelling I did when she was my strong willed always right closed minded child. We raise them to be independent and have opinions. We just don’t realize that they’re going to develop those so early and with such strength.

Reading her post got me thinking about my own childhood. My mother wasn’t a yeller. That’s not to say she couldn’t—I received my share of loud scoldings. My mother had three other weapons in her arsenal that often left me wishing she was a yeller. First, she was the master (perhaps even the inventor) of “the look.” No word needed to be spoken; message received loud and clear: cease or die. What was most amazing to me was when she used it on other kids at stores or other public places and they got the message too!

The second tool that my mother relied on was action. We knew that mom would not hesitate to use whatever was at hand or just her hand to make her point. This resulted in my brother getting konked on the head the telephone receiver when was making too much noise while she was on the phone (phone calls were typically fewer and much more important back in the day). Hair brushes, yardsticks, and those stupid paddle ball paddles—looking back I now see why she was always willing to give into that childish indulgence as we checked out at the store. You think we might have put that together better.

But the most effective tool in my mother’s parental arsenal was silence. Silence typically conveyed one of two messages, both extreme. She was either extremely disappointed or so angry that if she said anything she would have exploded. This final weapon was so powerful that it always got our attention and resulted in our praying for the silence to end.

As I am writing this, I am on the mend from a very weird and pain-filled three weeks. I progressed from swollen feet to extremely swollen feet and ankles and pain while walking to nodules all over my legs and arms and in my joints (elbows, wrists, fingers, knees, ankles toes), to fevers and shakes. I’ve had so many blood tests, I feel like a pin cushion—the very nice woman in the outpatient check-in knows me by name. I had a punch biopsy. Standing was so painful. At times I admit I just melted into tears. And I just couldn’t shake the thought: what if this is as good as it gets? I believe in healing, but I know that God doesn’t remove every infirmity.

Now, I realize that my suffering was probably very light compared to others. But it was mine and for a relatively active and healthy person this was intense and scary. Perhaps the was the worst: not knowing what was going on and not knowing how long it would continue.

Getting quiet with God this morning, thinking about my daughter’s post and my pain, I found myself thinking about the times I cried out to God these past few weeks. I began to feel like Malachai: how long, God? Silence. I wanted to be angry, to decry what seemed so unfair. But I couldn’t. Because somewhere in the silence there was a drawing…a calling…a voice…trust me.

At first I thought my pain was God “screaming” at me, me the errant, disobedient child. Punishing. Then it seemed more like a “smack” of sorts to get my attention. But each of those fell short. All my experiences with the silent messages from my mother were good for one thing for sure: they taught me to listen, listen hard, and listen long—for the answer is always there in the silence. At least it has been for me.

But like I said, I appear to be on the upswing. Maybe that’s why Job didn’t curse God when his wife suggested it. She wasn’t evil, she just ached to watch him suffer, and was suffering herself. Hope dies hard. Even if the pain I was suffering was going to be my friend for the rest of the journey, I would have adapted…somehow. And I know that God would have been with me. That was the kind of answer that Malachi got. God let the prophet know that he wasn’t going to like the answer to his question because God was going to use his enemy to bring about His purpose. It was the same message for Jeremiah (read ALL of Jeremiah 29).

I don’t know how it goes for you, but I tend to struggle with trying to fix and control. Trust doesn’t always come easy, but I usually get there. Just like when I was a child. Just like when I dealt with my own children. Sometimes learning is hard, as my daughter is finding. Parenting, too. Just ask God.

Portion Control

Psalm 16:5:
You have assigned me my portion and my cup. You have made my lot secure. (TNIV)

Lord, you alone are my inheritance, my cup of blessing. You guard all that is mine. (NLT)

My choice, is you, God, first and only and now I find I’m your choice. (The Message)


The other day my husband went to the freezer to take out some meat to thaw for dinner and he found that the door had not been shut properly and a box of popsicles had melted, spilling sticky goop onto each shelf and down the inside of the door. We both instantly knew who the culprit was that hadn’t shut the door: the grandson. In an effort to expand our trust, we have allowed him to get his own small snacks and with the recent heat, popsicles have become his favorites. Even with constant reminders, sometimes the door just doesn’t get shut tight.


Perhaps that is why when I was a kid we were never allowed to get our own treats. What we were allowed was doled out to us. Later, when we were responsible enough to close the door, we were allowed to get our own treats, but the amount and the variety was carefully controlled and monitored by our mother. Portions were rigidly adhered to: three cookies after meals; two donuts with breakfast; one small bowl of chips; or only one bowl of cereal for breakfast. The only between meal drink was water. And the clear understanding was ‘don’t ask for any more.’ I knew when I opened my sack at lunch at school that there would be a small bag of chips, a sandwich, and three cookies.


Some might have found comfort in the consistency with which we were fed. All I ever saw was what seemed like a banquet for my friends. I rebelled against this rigidity in private, eating other’s castoffs and sneaking food whenever I was able. I never interpreted the limits as love or wisdom, only as punitive, withholding and depriving. Others had more, why couldn’t I? This lack of understanding produced a distortion that unfortunately infiltrated so many areas of my life, from food to relationships to my spirituality.

At some point in my walk with the Lord, I came across Psalm 16, and found I needed to camp out on verse 5. The more I stayed there, the more I revisited and let the words penetrate deep into my heart, the more I was able to let go of the distortions that had led me into a bulimic form of existence(binging and purging, gorging and repenting). No matter what had happened when I was a child, it was and is God who assigns my portion and cup. He who created me knows what I need and he gives me exactly what I need to accomplish his purpose in my life.

As I pondered my portion for today, I was reminded of Jesus’ teaching to the disciples in what we now call The Lord’s Prayer: give us this day our daily bread. How many of my problems would cease to be problems if I would just focus on my portion and cup today? What would happen if we would acknowledge before God that we seek no more or less than what he has for us this day?

What do you need today? What do I need today? If this verse from David and Jesus’ subsequent teaching mean anything, then it isn’t up to me to decide. We typically spend a lot of time telling God what we need, and reminding him what others need as well. How would our prayers and life change if instead we prayed: “Show me what I really need so that I can be effective in all I do?”


Just as my mother knew that I didn’t need more that three cookies, God knows what this day holds and just what I will need to meet it. So I can trust and I will find that my lot is truly secure.

Rooted and Grounded

There was no moment when we outright decided that I wouldn’t have a garden this year. My husband and I just seemed to come to an unspoken agreement. As much as I have loved the smattering of offerings that have come from my meager efforts, it just hardly seems worth the cost based on my effort–or lack thereof.

I don’t find weeding therapeutic like my friends do. I have no passion for produce production. When things do grow, either I can’t eat them fast enough or the groundhog eats them before I get to them. And let’s face it: I have no desire to propagate the groundhog population by keeping them nutritionally sustained.

I’ve never been very good with plants. I have often said that I need houseplants that thrive on blatant neglect, and then the odds aren’t always in the plant’s favor. My outdoor foliage faces much the same fate. I love beautiful landscaping, but know that the only way I’ll have it is to hire it out and I just can’t afford that.


Last year a friend was thinning out the plants around her house and I inherited sedum, hostas, and day lillies. To my absolute delight they took and are growing well this summer. Someone let me know that these plants were half weeds, so they were genetically disposed to defy death. Works for me. She also gave me some black-eyed Suzies, but they did not fare as well. The place where I chose to plant them didn’t afford me enough room to get them deep enough. They were also the last plants I replanted that day and it was over 90 degrees and I was beyond exhausted. I had really hoped to have a beautiful view of a cheery patch of yellow right outside my office window.


As I thought about the failure of my flowers, I was reminded of Paul’s prayer for the Ephesians, specifically that they would be rooted and grounded in love (Ephesians 3:17).

I want that so badly.

Growing up, we moved around a lot, enough that people sometimes asked if my dad was a preacher. I never had the feeling that I belonged anywhere. When we finally did end up in a church where the youth group was close, I jumped at the first chance I had to get connected with God because that was what they had and I wanted it!

I’m thankful God has tempered some of that enthusiasm and overwhelming neediness over the years; and worked with me through my struggles and failures. It’s all been part of the process of sinking my roots deeper into him and keeping me grounded.

As for Paul’s prayer, I believe there are some solid reasons why Paul would include the importance of rootedness and grounding. Three to be exact. (I was a preacher for 20 years…old habits die hard.) Good roots result in good growth. Jesus was pretty clear about the importance of growth. It was so important to him that in his final hours with his disciples John records a lengthy teaching on the subject (see John 15). Peter picked up on it too and clearly instructed believers to make every effort to grow–specifically in grace and knowledge. We need a solid root system to take in the proper nourishment so that keep growing, because if we’re not growing…we’re dying.


Good roots also result in stability. Not long ago there was a pop up storm in my town and several very large pines were pulled up by their roots. I was surprised, until I learned how pine trees (at least these kind) don’t have roots that go very deep. When big storms come that can’t withstand the force and are uprooted like toothpicks.

I don’t know how your life has been, but I have weathered some pretty major storms–spiritually speaking. One thing I am absolutely certain of is that I didn’t do it on my own. Sometimes I wondered if I could make it, could I stand the test? With each wonderment came the assurance that there was a power holding me fast. The times when I failed the test and the storm won, I clearly see how I neglected my roots and I was far from being well-grounded.

I sometimes wish that there was a product called Spiritual Miracle Gro that would result in instantaneous growth and fruit. Experience has taught me growth takes time. But it is definitely time wisely invested.


I shared these thoughts with a friend and he suggested a fourth reason for a good root system. He described a picture he saw once of roots of several trees. The roots were intertwined giving the trees a greater strength as they came to depend on one another. Makes me sad for the tree standing alone out in the field. Being connected is good–especially in a storm.

So how are your roots? I’m going to work on making sure mine are well connected, well fed, and in good soil. Maybe next time will consider the value of good mulching…but I’ll save that “poopy” story for another day.

Red Light Phobia

Recently at Blue Ridge Mountain Christian Writers Conference, I had the pleasure of meeting a writer whose blog posts I’ve enjoyed for quite a while.
I was sitting in the main meeting room and turned around in my chair—and there she was. I walked back to where she was sitting and knelt down beside where she was sitting. All I was able to get out was, “Hi…” and she quickly spoke my name as if we were long-time friends just catching up after too long a separation. You could have knocked me over with a feather. It was one of the highlights of the week for me.


This morning I was reading one of her recent posts (http://loristanleyroeleveld.blogspot.com/2013/05/what-does-yellow-light-mean-lesson-from.html) and it stirred a few thoughts in me. (Take a few minutes to read it…if you don’t get back here, it’s ok! We can catch up later.)

Got you thinking, didn’t it? It did me. Here’s where I went…

If we have green light fever, it is fed by our red light phobia. This thought came to me as I considered Lori’s suggestion that the cure for our busyness is to slow down–to pay more attention to the yellow lights. (Love that youtube video, by the way.) While I’ve tended to put the passengers in my car a little closer to the windshield because a light turns yellow and I’m inclined to stop, most people seem to want to speed up to “make the light.” I believe this behavior is directly related to our intense dislike for stopping. We don’t dare slow down for fear that it might result in the wasted time spent stopped.

As I pondered this, I was reminded of my dear friend, Rita. nearly 30 years ago she was going through an extremely difficult time as she watched her marriage dissolving, and along with it, all her dreams. Many people counselled her to move on, but she felt God was calling her to a faithful stance. We decided the answers we needed were in the Word. I gave her a small NIV Bible I had. She carried it with her all the time in her car. Whenever she stopped at a red light, she would pick up the Bible and start reading. For a season, God brought healing to her relationship. She became one of the strongest testimonies to me of not fearing the red lights. Sometimes we have to do more than slow down. We have to be willing to stop. Perhaps that’s what is meant by the admonition in Psalm 46:10 to “Be still and know that I am God.” I still have the Bible that Rita read, and noted in. When I find myself in “down time” situations, I pull it out to find God’s word for me.

So have you been dashing through the yellow lights, trying to get ahead or keep from falling even farther behind? Are you afraid of the down times, the red light moments where you just have to stop?

Working with a ninety year old woman who has been slowly slipping away due to Alzheimer’s disease has helped me develop my appreciation for the down times. Actually, I find myself enjoying life more and treasuring each moment as the gift that it is. If I were allowed the privilege of going back in time I would want to take my perspective of time with me. There are a few more stories I’d like to read to my girls. A few more walks I’d like to take with my husband and my dogs. I would sit on the porch swing and enjoy it–not giving thought to the list of things that just had to be done.

As I thought about that more relaxed pace, images of people telling me to slow down came to mind. Several of them. Seems someone was always telling me that. Too bad I was moving too fast to listen. Wish I could let them know that I get it now. And I have. I may put that Bible in my car, too. Just to remind me to be thankful for the red lights!

He’s Outside the Box


Getting ready for Bible study/translation this morning, I was again caught in the prayer of Paul for the Philippians:

14 For this reason I kneel before the Father, 15 from whom every family[a] in heaven and on earth derives its name. 16 I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, 17 so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, 18 may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, 19 and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.

20 Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, 21 to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen. (Phil. 2:14-21, NIV)


Okay, here’s my quick thoughts on this: Paul is prayer seems to give the dimensions of a box. As I pondered this, I was rudely transported back to high school geometry class–the seedbed of so many nightmares. One positive thing I did gain from that class was the encouragement to consider the multi-dimensions of things: life isn’t one dimensional, flat. Paul seems to be trying to get the Philippians to realize this same thing about God.

No sooner has he drawn them a box, then he goes on to clearly point out how God is outside the box. There is no box that can contain him. He is the God who is exceedingly abundantly about all we could ask or imagine. Wow!

When my girls were little, they could spend hours playing in empty boxes, especially empty appliance boxes. My grandchildren must have inherited the same gene. There is so much that can be done with a box. So many worlds that one can create with a little imagination.

My girls outgrew playing in boxes. The same will probably happen with the grandkids. And that’s okay. Life is meant to be lived outside the refrigerator box.


God wants us to outgrow the childish boxes we may have kept in him, too. What would happen if you let him out of the box? How would your spiritual life change if you allowed him to be bigger than you’ve imagined him to be? How deep, high, and wide is your experience of his love?


I’m going to play–live–outside the box today. I’m not sure what it will look like…but I’m willing to look. How about you?

Today!

God again set a certain day, calling it “Today.” Hebrews 4:7, NIV


I have been a procrastinator my whole life. I imagine if I checked with my mom she would tell me I was even late being born.
I wish I had a dollar for every time she would address my procrastinating with this bit of wisdom: Don’t put off ‘til tomorrow what you can do today. I remembered this as I read this passage in Hebrews.

Several times in scripture we are reminded that God’s word is today, now, this day. Our strength is being renewed day by day. The Israelites were fed manna daily in the wilderness. Jesus taught his disciples to ask for the daily bread and not worry about tomorrow because it has its own particular problems.


Just as clearly we then learn that Satan’s word is tomorrow. Moses asked when he wanted relief from the plague of frogs to which he surprisingly replied, “tomorrow.” Why wait? God can take care of it now? Makes no sense to me. So whether by procrastination, putting off until later, or worry about what tomorrow holds, Satan’s job seems to be to get us off focus of the present and presence of God in this moment right now.


As a counselor I encouraged families frustrated by negative behavior to consider that all behavior serves a purpose. This is even true of procrastination. Two primary purposes jump quickly to mind. First, we procrastinate or put off doing something in order to maintain control. I’m sure we’ve all seen how a three year old can dig in her heels in defiance. She doesn’t want to do whatever Mom wants. Even at her young age and diminutive stature she fights for some semblance of control. Sometimes it’s cute on a toddler—not so much on an adult.


The other purpose that procrastination serves is fear. I don’t do what I need to do because I’m afraid. Afraid I’ll fail. Afraid I won’t be perfect. Afraid I’ll disappoint. The way the twisted thinking goes is that if I don’t do anything then I can fail or disappoint. The problem with that is we don’t realize how often this disappoints those who are expecting us to do something. Bosses are frustrated when the job doesn’t get done. Teachers have little option but to fail us for not completing the assignment (or science fair project). And if I wait to the last minute and don’t have all I need to complete the task (whether it’s poster board or ingredients for class treats), then I can put the blame outside of myself. ..or at least try to.

While I am quick to assure others of this, I’m a little more reluctant to own it for myself. That doesn’t however make it any less true. I’m working to release my fears and my insane need to control everything. My family will tell you it’s been a series of pain-filled baby steps. It’s just not natural for me to surrender, not initially anyway. I know I will get there, but it’s a process for me. Thankfully God gives the strength to work on it each day, day by day, starting Today!

Ponderings

I’m sorry.

I have been writing.

Well, rewriting, anyway.

Right after the bombing and goings on in Boston, I wrote a response to some of the hate-filled things that I saw coming from people of faith…my faith. As a person who has been forgiven much, and one whose life has been characterized by peace-making, I was deeply troubled.
God seemed to be holding me to the thoughts because I kept coming back to the themes of love and brotherly kindness, grace and forgiveness—but even with that I just didn’t feel the release to post. It was as if it needed to percolate a little while longer.

Then this week in Cleveland three young women, who have been missing a decade or more, were found and freed. All of the newscasts on every channel have been totally dedicated to covering every detail over and over and over. As with Boston, it didn’t really matter if the news was new, it seemed to be necessary to repeat it.

One of the things I quickly noticed that the coverage in Cleveland had with the news coverage of the Boston disaster was a question that was being asked often and loudly: how could this happen? Why? I began to lift my voice and found myself asking the question the prophet Habakkuk asked as well: How long, Lord? How long will you allow evil to get the upper hand?

I wish I had an answer. God was pretty clear with Habakkuk that he wasn’t going to like the answer because in Habakkuk’s case things got much worse. God allowed the Babylonians to sweep in and take the Hebrew children captive. I can’t image that message preached very well.
Recently, while translating Ephesians from the Greek with a friend, we found ourselves in a discussion about predestination. Not a place I usually like to go, because I don’t get it. On the one hand there is abundant scriptural evidence for the lavish love of God, demonstrated in grace and mercy. But there is also the story of Job, the painful experience of Naomi, the unfair treatment of Joseph’s brothers, and all the misery Paul endured while trying to grow the church of Christ. History is full of examples of persecution—some of it even coming at the hands of the Church!
I do not understand why God allows his followers to suffer. I don’t know why, if God is all knowing (and I believe he is), he wouldn’t stop someone from committing destructive acts against another person. I realize that I often learn lessons best when they are hard, when they cost me. Hard lessons don’t seem to be solved by easy answers. I’ve found in most cases the tough questions continue to hang out there defying any answer at all.

This is as close to pessimism as I come. Because when I get this close I immediately turn the other way. I’m not foolish enough to belief that it’s going to go away just because I chose not to dwell on it. Realistically, though, I know that there is very little I will ever do to rid the world of evil. That being said there are still things I can and must do:

1. I will forgive. No one has ever gained anything good by harboring an unforgiving spirit. It is a poison that kills the one who carries it. Jesus was pretty clear that with the same portion we forgive others, we will be forgiven. I choose to be extravagant because I know how much I need.

2. I will pray for my enemies. I will not allow hate to percolate in my heart. I will lift them before the throne of grace.

3. I will thank God for all the circumstances in my life. Nowhere does it state in scripture that I will understand why things happen. Faith doesn’t exempt me from suffering. Both Peter and Paul are pretty clear that there is a measure of worthiness involved when we suffer. James takes it one step further by instructing the believers to count it all joy when trials enter into their lives.

4. I will hold onto my “nevertheless” faith. When the three Hebrew servants faced the fiery furnace, they were clear with the king that their faith was still strong, and even if God did not save them from the fire, nevertheless they would hold strong. Habakkuk put it this way:

Even though the fig trees have no blossoms,
And there are no grapes on the vines;
Even though the olive crop fails,
And the fields lie empty and barren;
Even though the flocks die in the fields,
And the cattle barns are empty,
YET I will rejoice in the Lord!
I will be joyful in the God of my salvation!
The Sovereign Lord is my strength! (Habakkuk 3:17-19a)

That’s a pretty bleak picture. It’s a pretty clear “no matter what” coming from the prophet.

Jesus was looking for that same faith in his disciples. At the very end of his time with them before the crucifixion, he looked at them and said: “I have told you all this so that you may have peace in me. Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33, NLT)

Peace will not be found in this world. It only brings turmoil and trouble. Real peace can only be found in Jesus and the knowledge that he invites to a life that will go beyond this world.

I don’t feel like I solved any great mystery here. I’m still troubled by the quick judging and slow forgiving. But I feel more grounded. I am reminded what I need to hold onto, and what I am to let go—to give to God. And perhaps that will be enough. For now…it is.

20/20 Vision

In the first four chapters of Deuteronomy we find the account of the people of Israel poised at the edge of the Promised Land and their resulting fear. Several times Moses reminds them that God had promised them the land so they should act on the promise. The people lacked the faith to do so. Instead they asked Moses to send some scouts in to the land and come back to report what they saw. The plan seemed to make sense to Moses because he figured that the report would remind them of what they stood to gain and reinforce the need to act on the promise and take the land.

Reading about the tension that was rising between Moses and the people reminded what a difference perspective can make. Moses seemed incredulous that the people were so reluctant to move forward when God, the God of the universe, the God who had parted the Red Sea and cared for their every need in the wilderness, would fail to come through for them now. The people were equally mystified in Moses’ obvious lack of understanding regarding the impossibility of the situation. Sure, the land looked good, but the giants loomed that much larger. The two perspectives couldn’t be more diametrically opposed.

The whole thing sounded like the old proverb that you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him drink. God can lead you to his promise, but he can’t make you believe it. The people were looking at the situation through the lenses of “what is” and it resulted in great fear. Moses was looking at the situation and seeing the great potential that awaited them.

What happens when you look at what is going on around you? When you consider the circumstances where you find yourself are you overwhelmed by what you see, or hope for what can be? In terms of MBTI, are you more of an intuitive or sensate? Are fixated on what you can draw from you situation with your senses, or do you find yourself stuck on the potentialities? Certainly we need balance in the two dimensions, but we will always more naturally lean to one response or the other.

So what about God? My first thought was that He must be a strong iNtuitive. After all, the grand quote about God is that with Him “all things are possible.” That, in fact, we can do all things through Christ (God incarnate) who strengthens us. Talk about potential!
But what about those of us who were born in Missouri? You know us, we are the descendants of Thomas: we need to see it to believe it. God created us with our wiring as it is, so there must value to be a sensory oriented person, one who makes decisions based on what ‘is’ not the illusive “what might be.” Here’s what I think. I believe that God created both ends of the spectrum not only so that we would balance each other, but so that we could be more balanced individually. One is no more valuable or “right” than the other. While understanding our personality is helpful to getting a handle on our behavior, it seems to me it would best to understand God better. We need to learn to take Him at His word, that we can trust Him to come through on His promises.

Here’s what I suggest you do if you find you’re coming up a little short in the trust department, if the task God is asking you to face seems full of giants. Flip to the end of the book. It’s okay. God won’t mind. When you read the end you find that we win. Now turn back to Romans, and catch how Paul describes your position: In all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. (Romans 8:37, NRSV) Oh, and here’s the one I really love. Find 2 Chronicles 20:20. Ezra leads up to this great verse by telling the people in verse 15: Do not fear or be dismayed at this great multitude; for the battle is not yours but God’s. Then he reinforces this with verse 17: The battle is not for you to fight; take your position, stand still, and see the victory of the Lord on your behalf. Then the 20;20 moment comes the next day when they get up and go out to battle, he tells them: Listen to me, O Judah and inhabitants of Jerusalem! Believe in the Lord your God and you will be able to stand firm. Believe in his prophets, and you will succeed.

Our dependence on God results in 20:20 vision. So whether you more naturally get focused on what is right in front of you or you jump into all the potentiality of the moment, your vision will be perfect when you trust God and take him at His word. That’s the response that makes the most sense, because if you read on in Deuteronomy you’ll find that it really didn’t go very well for those who gave into their fears. For them it was back out into the wilderness and they never were able to experience the blessings of the Promised Land. And all the possibilities of that kind of experience make me want to be sure I’m holding onto God’s perspective. How about you?

Reflecting:
-Are you struggling with a difficult situation? Are the Giants closing in?
-What promises are you clinging to? What promises do you need to find to hold on?
-You may not feel like a winner right now, but keep reminding yourself that the battle is God’s and he sees you as more than a conqueror!

Wondering and Wandering: Ah, Gentleness

“Compassion is expressed in gentleness. When I think of the persons I know who model for me the depths of the spiritual life, I am struck by their gentleness. Their eyes communicate the residue of soitary battles with angels, the costs of caring for others, the deaths of ambition and ego, and the peace that comes from having very little left to lose in this life. They are gentle because they have learned the hard way that personal survival is not the point. Their caring is gentle because their self-aggrandizement is no longer at stake. There is nothing in it for them. Their vulnerability has ben stretched to clear-eyed sensitivity to others and truly selfless love.” From Healing of Purpose by John E. Biersdorf

The older I get the more I treasure the “gentle” people around me. They are like the softness of a cashmere blanket wrapped around us, warming us with soft caresses. I sat and soaked in that image for a moment and then went back and read the quote…not an adequate image. But isn’t that just like us? We want to the softness without the process.

Right now there’s a Dick’s Sporting Goods commercial that left me needing a tissue the first time I saw it:

This of course reminded me of one of my favorite tidbits of literature: The Wisdom of the Skinhorse (“The Velveteen Rabbit” by Margery Williams)
“What is REAL?” asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. “Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?”

“Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse. “It’s a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.”

“Does it hurt?” asked the Rabbit.

“Sometimes,” said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. “When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.”

“Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,” he asked, “or bit by bit?”

“It doesn’t happen all at once,” said the Skin Horse. “You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”

This proces and transformation are not something that we have to hunt for and try to accomplish all willy-nilly. Someone has offered to walk us through it, to teach us, to be with us all along the way:
Are you tired? Worn our? Burned out on religion? Come to me Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show
you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me–watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I
won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly. Matthew 11:28-30 The Message

Jesus, the One we preparing to meet this holy season, the One who came as Immanuel (God to be with us), invites us to journey with him, to learn from him for he is gentle and humble of heart. Nothing much more humbling than the helplessness of a baby. Helplessness at any stage we might find ourselves.

Where does gentleness come from? From learning we don’t have all the answers, that we can’t do this on our own, and from learning to wrap our brain around how okay it is to be dependent.

We’ve already considered your IQ (imitation quotient), so now I’m wondering: how’s your GQ, your gentleness quotient?

Wondering and Wandering: Dis-couraged?

5 Why am I discouraged? Why is my heart so sad? I will put my hope in God! I will praise him again—my Savior and my God! Psalm 42:5

The words to the old gospel song ask: Why should I be discouraged? Why should the shadows come? …When Jesus is my portion, a constant friend is he. His eye is on the sparrow, and I know he watches me. I sing because I’m happy. I sing because I’m free. For his eye is on the sparrow, and I know he watches me.

When I went to the online concordance to read what the scriptures had to say about discouragement, I was surprised by what I found. The majority of references to discourage were preceded by the phrase, “don’t be afraid.” Fear and discouragement are linked. Now I’m imagining that there are as many reasons to be discouraged as there are to be afraid. They will differ with the individual and their makeup. And I guess the connection makes sense when you consider that to be dis-couraged is to be without courage.

I also read Psalm 42 with a whole new perspective. Read verse 5 above. Read it quickly. Do not camp out at the end of the second question. That’s our tendency, isn’t it? We pitch our tent somewhere between Discouragement Village and Sadness City. But it seems to me that the writer of the Psalm wants to us to reconsider our pausing at that point. There’s no camping, no pity-me party, none of it! There is the resoluteness of the hymn writer: How can I be discouraged when Jesus is my portion? How can I be sad when my hope is in the God whose eye is ever on me, on you?

Perhaps this year has held changes that have felt way more than you could bear. Huge losses. Intense heartache. It may have seemed like you were swimming in a sea of why questions. The Psalmist doesn’t seem to wait for an answer for his why questions, he just automatically moves to hope and praise for his Savior and his God. Is it time to stop paddling in that same old pool? Is it time to surrender your ‘why’ and find hope and praise?

Maybe you want to sing along