Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Simplicity

"'Tis the gift to be simple, 'tis the gift to be free,
'Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be,
And when we find ourselves in the place just right,
'Twill be in the valley of love and delight."

For 16 years I lived my dream of  having a hobby farm.  I faced the learning curve of animal husbandry with childish delight as a succession of creatures--honeybees, chickens, ducks, geese, llamas, horses, goats--came under my care. 

Yesterday, as I loaded the animals into a trailer for their journey to another farm,  I let go of that dream.. It was time. The severity of last winter helped make up my mind.

That, and the arrival of grandchildren. 

Farming has been a two edged sword. It brought me closer to the movements of the earth, the seasonal changes in God's creation, new life. But this dream also separated me from my family, from their lives, their interests.

I fear I was too selfish far too long.

But He who began a good work in me is not finished. As He shapes me into the image of His Son, He is helping me let go of the lesser things to take firm hold of the greater.

"When true simplicity is gain'd,
To bow and to bend we shan't be asham'd,
To turn, turn will be our delight,
Till by turning, turning we come out right."

This is a journey away from complexity toward simplicity. A constant tuning, turning, away from my self and toward others. 

And, ultimately, toward Him.

jas sig

Monday, April 27, 2009

Surrender . . .again

Then he spoke to them all. "If anyone wants to follow in my footsteps, he must give up all right to himself, carry his cross every day and keep close behind me. For the man who wants to save his life will lose it, but the man who loses his life for my sake will save it. Luke 9:23-24 (JB Phillips New Testament)

My Dear Husband and I listened again to the Pray As You Go segment for last Thursday. It began with the song  "Surrender" that I posted here yesterday. Sitting together in reflective silence, God spoke again to our hearts.

I love it when God speaks. I think God loves it even more when I listen.

I am coming to a new understanding of what it means to take up my cross each day. The image of the cross as a burden to be shouldered is fading, being replaced instead with an image of the cross as a key.

What does this key unlock? A new life. A new life that is free from the unnecessary burdens I have carried for so long. The fear of disapproval is being replaced with the joy of being known as the beloved, the weight of striving to be perfect with the confidence that the Holy Spirit is changing what I cannot.

Christ's burden is easy. What makes the Christian life difficult is bringing too much baggage into it.  But Jesus is the ultimate gentleman. He has offered to carry it for me. There is incredible freedom in surrendering all that to Him.

Incredible freedom. 

And love.

jas sig

Saturday, April 25, 2009

Surrender

Surrender
by Karen Money

I
surrender all to You
the past, the years to come, right now
with every breath I bring to You
my hopes and fears and long discarded dreams

Take
them from my trembling hands
before I lose my nerve and change my mind
Tear
to shreds my safety net
and with it every backup plan I made

If I could only see Your face
I would never hesitate
I give my all
to You

Though
I do not see You now
I will turn my back on every doubt
and I
am going to trust that You
in Your own time will work it out

If I could only see Your face
I would never hesitate
I give my all
to You

Empty
hands bring peace of mind
Your burden is far lighter than my own
and every step I take to You
leads me ever closer still
to home
(to hear the song, click here)

Then he said to them all: "If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will save it." Luke 9:23-24 (NIV)


jas sig

Friday, April 24, 2009

The Egg and I

Yesterday I discovered a tiny robin's egg laying on the ground, all alone. I glanced into the naked branches of the apple tree overhead to locate a nest, but saw none. How did this little egg end up here? On close examination, I discovered a crack. That crack meant the potential for bird song, flight, worm finding, and spring announcing would be wasted.

How sad.

There are cracks of imperfection all about my soul. They arise from my sin nature and my resulting choices. Although Jesus has dealt with the eternal consequences, there is a lot of dealing yet to do; allowing him to root out the lies I have embraced about who I am and who He is.

But for me, probably the most difficult dealing comes in allowing others to walk with me. It is much easier for me to walk alone. As I observed my Dad's mourning of my mother's passing, I was surprised by how he welcomed friends into his grief while my own desire was to shut others out.

In the last week I have felt myself withdrawing. I shared that with my dear husband last night, and he asked me why. I couldn't give him an answer. Perhaps I didn't want to look in my heart to see what was there.

I think I may have something in common with that beautiful but marred and abandoned egg. More important is the difference that sets us apart. God has not, nor will ever abandon me. He loves me and cares for me in spite of my imperfection. And he longs for that day when all will be set right within me.

As I learn to trust Him, and as I learn to trust and walk with others, that day will come. And on that day, my perfected potential, all our potential, will be transformed by the Holy Spirit, and we will take flight. Together.

I need to start practicing that together part now.

How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are! The reason the world does not know us is that it did not know him. Dear friends, now we are children of God, and what we will be has not yet been made known. But we know that when he appears,we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is. 1 John 3:1-2 (NIV)

jas sig

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Dreams

Over on the iron acres blog, I posted about Susan Boyle, the woman of  the hour on the internet.  The whole world seems to be focused on this wee Scottish woman who entered a singing contest in Glasgow. What is it about her history, her appearance, her talent, the song she chose that resonates so deeply in our hearts? I think that is an important question to ask ourselves before the glory and purity of the moment is degraded by what the world calls success.

Behind the themes of overcoming great odds, realizing a dream, and hidden beauty revealed, lies our core human desire--to be vulnerable, to be known, and to be valued.  We share a common dream of justice and grace.  Where does that come from?

I think it is a part of our spiritual dna, a distant memory of what it was like to be in the Garden, to be naked, and unafraid, to live in communion with our Creator God and be told, "you are good."  God told us we were good when he made Adam and Eve, and He reminded us again when Jesus came to earth to die for us in order to reinstate that relationship we had before the Fall.

Yes, we continue to do horrible things to each other, but that is part of our fallen dna--sin.  Sin wires us to satisfy our selfish desires at the expense of others. Our sin has programmed us to build a world based on our own conceit.  That is why God chooses the "foolish" things to confound those who are worldly wise, the "weak" things to overcome the worldy strong.

The power of God is made manifest in the weak and common things. That is what touches our core longing to get back to our home in Him.  A world of love, beauty, and relationship.  The hope, the promise of redemption.  The world God dreamed for us in creation.  The world God dreams in us as we return to Him.
jas sig

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Falling Asleep

Last night my Dear Husband and I did some babysitting for a young couple who have a darling little two year old.

We see the little guy on a regular basis and have sat with him before, but this was the first time we put him to bed. Bedtime can be very traumatic for all concerned, so I carefully followed his routine. But the darling was not at all amused, nor willing, and began to wail. My DH rose to the occasion and came swiftly to the rescue, telling little guy that he would stay right there with him until he fell asleep. That did the trick. Little guy just needed the assurance that someone was there guarding him at his most vulnerable time, as he sank into sleep.

I am reminded of my father, and his final moments. I was out of town when the nursing home called and informed me the time for farewell was approaching. I scrambled for an emergency flight, but by the time I arrived, Dad had left this world. I wondered if he was alone, or if someone watched over him and held his hand during those final moments. That question still haunts me.  Daddy saw me into this world, and I felt it my responsibility to see him into the next.

When the accusation of failure raises its ugly head, I am comforted by the knowledge that there was someone there for Daddy, Someone very loving, who took his hand, whispered words of comfort and encouragement, and helped him change out of his worn and tattered earthly body into his new heavenly one.

"The Splendor of Paradise welcomed him with arms open wide."*

Just like the little guy, and my Dad, I need reminders that someone is watching over me, too.  What a comfort to know that my Heavenly Father is there.

“I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one can snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all; no one can snatch them out of my Father's hand. I and the Father are one.”- John 10:28-30



jas sig

------------------
*"When Heaven Calls", by Nicole C. Mullen

Sunday, April 19, 2009

What Matters Most

It is curious that I would find my heart touched by something written in an investment publication. 

But I did.   

What Matters Most proves that God can be found in anything as long as I am looking for him with an open mind and an uncritical heart.  I invite you to take a look at true wealth here.

jas sig

Saturday, April 18, 2009

Silence

I've felt numb and disconnected the past few days. I couldn't put my finger on why until my dear husband and I went out on our weekly date last night. We visited about our day over gourmet cuisine at Wendy's, then sat in the car in the parking lot for awhile.

The local Wendy's is near a big outlet mall located on a major interstate about five minutes from our little place in the country. And there we sat, watching a pair of geese fly low over the mall toward the green field that borders it.

That is a strange combination of sights. Store upon store crammed with all sorts of stuff that vehicle upon vehicle of people move down the interstate from Canada to purchase. Just a few feet away from that stuff and the pavement is a hay field appointed with a Spring flush of green grass and patrolled by a black cat.

I confessed to my dear husband that I felt distanced from him as well as my Savior. I had no idea why. He offered an apology for being somewhat preoccupied with fatigue lately. The stresses and responsibilities of life were taking their toll. After examining some other possibilities he replied, "I wish I had something to say to help."

I reached for his hand and said, "Sometimes just sitting in silence together is enough." As my hand touched his I felt my frozen heart begin to melt. And the question came, "what if the 'problem' was a new, heightened sensitivity to how my relationship with him and with God is interconnected?"

We lived so many of our thirty-three years married, but not engaged with each other's hearts. That has changed slowly over the last four years, thanks in part to the teaching of Larry Crabb, the moving of the Spirit within each of us, and a growing awareness of how deeply we desire to truly know each other.

So, that was our conversation as we gazed upon the mall and the meadow, the shopping and the silence. Together. That black cat, my dear husband and I, and our Heavenly Father.

At a place where time and eternity met, we went away changed.

"We need to find God, and he cannot be found in noise and restlessness. God is the friend of silence. See how nature - trees, flowers, grass- grows in silence; see the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence... We need silence to be able to touch souls.” Mother Teresa


jas sig

Friday, April 17, 2009

Clutter

Every Spring my mother would remove the screens from all the windows, scrub them with a brush and comet, hose them off, then put them back up.  It was the beginning of Spring cleaning.

I feel like there is some Spring cleaning to do in my heart today.  I need to get rid of the clutter that distracts me and gathers dust.  I tend to hold onto things.  I need to learn to let go.

My journey goes through rugged territory.  I must rid myself of all but the necessities.

Lord, show me what is needful.  Give me grace to surrender all else.


Purify Me by 2nd Chapter of Acts
Living God, consuming fire
Burn the sin from my life
Make your will my desire
Take my life in your hands

Purify me with your love
'til I shine far brighter than purest gold
In your eyes.
jas sig

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Waiting

I'm sitting at my keyboard, waiting.  

Outside, the sun is shining and beginning to warm up the ground.  This morning during my walk, I noticed vapor rising from a brown garbage can as I passed by.  The sun, drawn to the dark color, was absorbing into the can and warming the cold air inside, creating steam.

As I remember that, I wait.

I wonder if, like cold air, my soul needs to be warmed by Jesus this morning.  Will I breathe out His breath to those I pass by?  Will His presence be visible as I walk with Him?

"I wait for the LORD, my soul waits, and in his word I put my hope." (Psalm 130:5, NIV)
jas sig




.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Three Little Words

Simon and Garfunkel sang, "Hello darkness, my old friend."  If we are children of the light in Christ, why are we so hesitant to give up the darkness in our hearts?

The first winter I had chickens, I kept them inside a small building to protect them from the cold and predators.  When summer came, I opened up the coop door fully expecting the birds to fly out into the big, bright, beautifully green world in search of bugs and grass seed.

But they didn't.

They were very hesitant to move beyond their 12x6 foot winter prison.  The hens stayed huddled in the opposite corner as they watched their protector, the rooster, pace slowly back and forth toward the door.  Finally, after almost an hour of wary exploration of the general area, the rooster poked his head through the opening.  His body followed slowly, and then the hens following his example marched out one by one according to their pecking order.

Freedom and light are extremely intimidating to the imprisoned, darkened soul.  That is why Jesus patiently comes to us again and again and again with his post resurrection message, "Don't be afraid."  He's gone before us and taken care of the monsters, imagined and real.  Out of unfathomable love, he who knew no sin suffered the punishment that should have been ours.

Don't be afraid.

I think those are my second most favorite words in the Bible.  They have soothed my wounded heart when I felt my world was falling apart.  They have given me courage to go on in the midst of crushing loss. They beckon me to trust him.

And my most favorite words?  "I have loved you with an everlasting love."

Don't be afraid.  Trust him.  He may not be a safe lion, but he is good, and he loves us more than we can imagine.
jas sig

Monday, April 13, 2009

Now

On Good Friday I heard it.  The monster growl began some distance away and grew louder slowly, slowly. The huge tractors were on the roads, heading for nearby fields to break up spring soil, still in groggy winter slumber, and prepare it for the seeding and fertilizing to follow.

The weight of the machines and the sponginess of the soil around here make wet spring weather difficult for farming.  Conditions have to be just right in order to get started in the process of creating this year's crop for a timely harvest.  The Amish have more freedom with horses and wagons than the English with pneumatic tires and gasoline engines.  It is not uncommon to see big work horses in the field, pulling machinery to work the soil much earlier than our English tractors.  So much for the advantages of modern technology!

A farmer is on the timetable of the sun and rain, not necessarily the religious calendar.   If the field needs to be worked, and he conditions are right on Good Friday, if he is a spiritual soul, he communes with God in the field.

That is a lesson I must learn, to commune with God where I am in this moment.  I really have no other.  I was struck during a sermon on Hebrews 11:1 many years ago.  A friend in the ministry, a man known for Old Testament prophet-like faith and understanding of the nature of God, spoke these words out of the strength of many years of struggle and communion with his heavenly Father.  They continue to reverberate in my heart:

"Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." NIV

Now faith is the substance.  Now faith isNow faith.

Now.

There are slumbering winter fields in my heart, Lord, that need preparation for summer fruitfulness.  Roots of foolishness run deep within.  Make your furrows deeper, amend the soil.  May my heart yield a field rich in the fruit of Your Spirit.

May I learn how to enter into Your presence in my present.

Now.

"For the Present is where time touches eternity."  CS Lewis.


jas sig

Sunday, April 12, 2009

He is Risen!!!

La Pieta
Written Easter of 1969 by Jeremiah Denton, while a prisoner of war in Viet Nam

The soldiers stare, then drift away,
Young John finds nothing to say,
The veil is rent; the deed is done;
And Mary holds her only son.

His limbs grow stiff, the night grows cold,
But naught can lose that mother’s hold,
Her gentle, anguished eyes seem blind,
Who knows what thoughts run through her mind?

Perhaps she thinks of last week’s palms,
With cheering thousands off’ring alms
Or dreams of Cana on the day
She nagged him till she got her way.

Her face shows grief but not despair,
Her head though bowed has faith to spare,
For even now she could suppose
His thorns might somehow yield a rose.

Her life with Him was full of signs
That God writes straight with crooked lines.
Dark clouds can hide the rising sun,
And all seem lost, when all be won! 



I know my Redeemer livesHe is risen, indeed!
jas sig

Saturday, April 11, 2009

A Thin Place

chairMy Dear Professor and I just returned from a few days at our favorite place in this world next to Texas -- a nearby Catholic retreat center. It is a place of beauty, quiet, prayer, and calm set in the midst of a sixty plus acre wood. Truly a thin place, where the division between this world and the next is almost transparent.

I discovered that on our first retreat here 8 years ago. My dear husband had planned it, and he was divinely guided in the timing. I was an emotional wreck, physically and spiritually exhausted, and reeling from an unexpected betrayal. I could feel myself slipping into the bottomless black hole of depression on our drive down. The betrayal had shaken me to the core, and everything was up for grabs -- who God was, how He interacted with me and I with Him. All was on the table. We had never retreated before, so we weren't sure what to expect. I went to bed, managing to trust that God would wake me up if He had a better idea. Somehow, in the midst of the shambles of my life and emotions, I had enough trust to think God was still good.

This particular center celebrates the Liturgy of the Hours, a Catholic tradition of setting aside seven times within a day's span to recite parts of the Psalms, read a passage from the Old or New Testament, and read short prayers according to the calendar of the church year. (This all takes place within a matter of 15 minutes.) It was the bell signaling call to prayer that awakened me, and the times of prayer that gave me structure when I had none. Mysteriously, the particular Psalm readings for those first days spoke directly to my wounded heart and, combined with the beauty and serenity of the building, began my healing. I shed many a tear on my dear husband's shoulder and cried out many a question to my heavenly Father before those three days were ended. The healing was not complete when we left, but I had the strength to take baby steps, and with the love of my husband and my Savior began a road to recovery.

In the intervening years, we have attempted to come back at least twice a year, and each time if only for a brief moment, the veil seems to part. This time I found a deeper meaning in the events we celebrate at Easter time. I was studying in the library loft and overheard a priest leading a catechism class. Afterward, I asked for his text. It was an anonymous sermon from the early church on supposed events surrounding the resurrection of Christ, and for me, an evangelical protestant, serves as a wonderful meditation on the depth of what Christ accomplished on the cross.

"A MEDITATION FOR HOLY SATURDAY

Something strange is happening - there is a great silence on earth today, a great silence and stillness. The whole earth keeps silence because the King is asleep. The earth trembled and is still because God has fallen asleep in the flesh and He has raised up all who have slept ever since the world began. God has died in the flesh and hell trembles with fear.

He has gone to search for our first parent, as for a lost sheep. Greatly desiring to visit those who live in darkness and in the shadow of death, He has gone to free from sorrow the captives Adam and Eve, He who is both God and the son of Eve. The Lord approached them bearing the cross, the weapon that had won Him the victory. At the sight of Him, Adam, the first man He had created, struck his breast in terror and cried out to everyone: 'My Lord be with you all'. Christ answered him: 'And with your spirit'. He took him by the hand and raised him up, saying: 'Awake, O sleeper, and rise from the dead, and Christ will give you light'.

'I am your God, who for your sake have become your son. Out of love for you and for your descendants I now by My own authority command all who are held in bondage to come forth, all who are in darkness to be enlightened, all who are sleeping to arise. I order you, O sleeper, to awake. I did not create you to be held a prisoner in hell. Rise from the dead, for I am the life of the dead. Rise up, work of my hands, you who were created in My image. Rise, let us leave this place, for you are in Me and I am in you; together we form only one person and we cannot be separated. For your sake I, your God, became your son; I, the Lord, took the form of a slave; I, whose home is above the heavens, descended to the earth and beneath the earth. For your sake, for the sake of man, I became like a man without help, free among the dead. For the sake of you, who left a garden, I was betrayed to the Jews in a garden, and I was crucified in a garden.

'See on My face the spittle I received in order to restore to you the life I once breathed into you. See there the marks of the blows I received in order to refashion your warped nature in My image. On My back see the marks of the scourging I endured to remove the burden of sin that weighs upon your back. See My hands, nailed firmly to a tree, for you who once wickedly stretched out your hand to a tree.

'I slept on the cross and a sword pierced My side for you who slept in paradise and brought forth Eve from your side. My side has healed the pain in yours. My sleep will rouse you from your sleep in hell. The sword that pierced Me has sheathed the sword that was turned against you.

'Rise, let us leave this place. The enemy led you out of the earthly paradise. I will not restore you to that paradise, but I will enthrone you in heaven. I forbade you the tree that was only a symbol of life, but see, I who am life itself am now one with you."

jas sig

Friday, April 10, 2009

His Victory, Our Hope

"Who can stay awake in this night of God? Who will not be
as if paralyzed by it? Christ's struggle was with God.
This was his real agony. He overcame it through his
self-surrender. That was his victory, and our hope."
--Jurgen Moltmann

I watched "The Passion of the Christ" again last night. I see something new with every viewing. What struck me this time was the image of the procession to Golgotha. As Jesus stumbled under the load of the cross (and our sin), Simon of Cyrene was called out from the crowd of onlookers to give assistance. The screenwriters added to the story a piece of dialogue. Simon said to a struggling Jesus, "you are almost there."

Although that is a piece of fiction, I believe it has eternal weight. This weekend while on a prayer retreat I watched as our great Redeemer approached my dear husband in the midst of his own struggle with self surrender.

With the power that comes only from experience, Christ whispered, "You are almost there".

Christ's victory became our hope.

jas sig