Friday, March 9, 2012

February 2012

This month we again read a post from the blog, posted Jan 19, 2012.


a place for your soul to breathe
the kind of faith that can change your life
January 19, 2012
“If we are to be aware of life while we are living it, we must have the courage to relinquish our hard-earned control of ourselves.”
-Madeleine L’Engle, Walking on Water

I stare out the morning window, the outline of my tired head stares back at me, wispy hair out of place, wild. The sun isn’t up yet, only the faintest, faded line of pink lingers over the trees out back. This slow rising happens every morning, I think to myself. As I wrap my hands around my warm cup, I can’t help but rush ahead into the day. Even though the house is quiet, I’m running on the inside as if things are in full swing. My feet haven’t moved but my soul is rumbling.

Mercifully, the Lord whispers His presence with me and I’m pulled back to this minute. I consider how God called the light day and the dark night, how He spoke the days into being just one at a time. He still does it that way, evening and morning and evening again. And the days roll into one another in a watercolor line of elation and planning and laughter and frustration. Sometimes it feels like my life is a gray arrow right through the center, pushing ahead to get on with the next thing, desperately wishing I could see far off ahead.
It isn’t usually the big things that cause the most trouble and doubt. With the big things, it is so obvious I’m out of control – the diagnosis, the job insecurity, the safety and well-being of my family. Instead it’s those everyday things that are covered with my fingerprints. I try to get things I already have, things like acceptance, worth, security, love. Maybe everything we do is to get one of those needs met. Finish the list – I am important. Apologize for my messy house when the neighbor comes over – I need your acceptance. Don’t let them see my weakness – I need your approval.

We are terrified of the mystery. We want our manager hats to remain firmly on our heads, skirts smoothed, shoes shined, plans lined up in neat rows. At the least, the suggestion that we are not in control is laughable. At the worst, it is offensive. I have a degree, you know.
And so I stand there next to the window, pink sky lighting up with each moment, and consider the invisible place in me where my Spirit and God’s mingle together. I used to think that a mature faith would bring with it clear pictures, thought that as I walked with God I would see life big, wide, and spacious. But that is not what is happening, and if you expect that, it can feel like perhaps your faith is shrinking. Because instead of being lifted up on a cloud to see the big picture, instead of tilting back my head and laughing at those silly things I used to worry about, I am shrinking down into a small place, a place where I can barely see two feet in front of me, much less into next week.

Everything in me wants to fight the unveiling of the anxieties that threaten to overwhelm, push them back from showing up in my day. Christians aren’t supposed to be anxious, right?  I want to ignore the smoky unknown; it is counter-intuitive to let the anxieties rise up to the surface.
But we must let them rise up, so that we can release them into His hands. Speak the fear out loud, so that He can give words of truth. Don’t run away from those places where it seems your faith is small. Run into them, look around, be honest about how it feels as you stand there. And know we have a God who can handle it.
I put my cup on the table, breathe in deep the air of a new day, pray without words to a God who knows. I become aware of His acceptance of me, and not because I finished everything on my list. Truth can be a slow rising, making no difference at first. But as each moment weaves itself into the next, as we believe Him in the great right now, His truth becomes a strand woven into the fabric of our minutes. This moment living is sweet. This moment living reminds me of who is in control and who is not. This smallness is to be celebrated, not despised. I dare not trust myself with the next step. A mature faith says I am desperately in need of a source outside of myself. I always have been, but now I know it.

January 2012

This month we read a blog post from, posted Dec 13, 2011.

"'One of the most important lessons I have learned over the past few years is how important it is to have time and space for being with what's real in my life - to celebrate the joys, grieve the losses, shed my tears, sit with the questions, feel my anger, attend to my loneliness.'"  Ruth Haley Barton, Sacred Rhythms

"I may know the importance of holding the truth of my life in my hands, of looking at it from all angles, of seeing what is. But there is a distinct difference between knowing the importance of being with what's real and actually being brave enough to resist reaching for what I wish to be. It takes courage to sit with the reality of the questions, the desires, the sorrows and the joys and to simply let them exist on the surface in the presence of God. It takes time, a willingness to see, and the discipline to rest in the midst of it.

That's what we practice here on Tuesdays. We take this day, whatever it holds, and look for the gifts. sometimes it's easy and quick, the gifts bursting from every common meal and conversation. Other times, the gifts seem to be hiding under deep piles of dust and broken things. But it has been my experience during this practice that we generally find what we're looking for. Might you join us in looking for the gifts today?"


After reading the above post, we talked about several things:
1. what is your reality?
2. what do you want it to be?
3. fully experience the difference between #s 1 and 2, then decide what to do - how to reconcile them in your mind.

When you can't make your goal happen - when it's largely out of your control, focus on the truth of today and how to experience abundant life right now.


We also read an excerpt from the Zondervan Daily Inspiration from Dec 14, 2011.

"...I did learn some valuable lessons about unanswered prayers...  First of all, I came to the humble conclusion that our prayers are often misguided simply because we're not omniscient. I'll be the first to admit that I've drawn some prayer circles around the wrong things for the wrong reasons, and God didn't answer those prayers the way I wanted Him to!  If we were absolutely honest, we would have to admit that most of our prayers have as their main objective personal comfort rather than God's glory. If God answered those selfish prayers, they would actually short-circuit the purposes of God in our lives. We would fail to learn the lessons God is trying to teach us or cultivate the character God is trying to shape in us....  I also learned that we shouldn't seek answers as much as we should seek God. We get overanxious. We try to microwave our own answers instead of trusting God's timing. But here's an important reminder: If you seek answers you won't find them, but if you seek God, the answers will find you...."  (The Circle Maker: Praying Circles Around Your Biggest Dreams and Greatest Fears, by Mark Batterson)