Favored, Not Forgotten - A look at how even in our darkest places, God redeems our story.

"Long lay the world, in sin and error pining; till he appeared and the soul felt it's worth. A thrill of hope. The weary world rejoices! For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn!"

I live in the California Central Valley where much of the ground is dry and barren as we’ve weathered a long drought.  There was an earnest hope for rain as fall approached, and from this December 24^th viewpoint, we can see the drought finally breaking! Its finally raining!  I was wondering if the ground could recover from such a long dry spell, but there are tender little green things, long forgotten beneath the soil, finding their way through the top.  Little sprigs of hope serve as reminders how from the dark, quiet places….even when on the surface things look bleak and barren, life will emerge.

It reminded me of the SATURDAYS post, “Arise” from last Christmas - the one that talks about taking off our grave clothes to let the resurrected Jesus live through us.   But that's the good part of the story, kind of like when those fall rains finally came this year.  The before part of the story happens as Jesus showed up days after Lazarus died.  It didn't look so promising from that point.  Mary waited, and Martha scorned...By all accounts it was too late. Their brother was good and dead and the one person who could have done something about it passively wandered his way there.  Why did Jesus wait so long? Did He forget the urgency of the situation, or just choose to ignore it?  It seems so dismissive.

I’ve felt that way - forgotten by God.  Haven’t you?  There are times I want God to show up and make the situation better….NOW, but my prayers only seem to go as far as the ceiling then fall right back down and hit the floor.  I get weary in the wait and wonder if anything will ever change. (as mentioned in the previous post).  God's favor seems a far way off in the distance. It’s often in such vulnerable space that evil shows up, mingles with my story, dances with, doubt, shame and regret, and tries to convince me there is no way out - that things will never change, that I am (or the situation is) too broken to be made whole. But just like with Lazarus, God’s timing is different than ours, and he has something in mind far beyond what we can imagine.  

In the quiet, dark places where nothing seems to happen and our lives appear deeply submerged under the soil away from light…away from living, we can believe there is something better.  Our soul- soil, made by God, holds the seeds of long forgotten life. Lazarus comes forth.  Droughts receive the rains.  Night gives way to dawn.

For anyone out there who doesn’t know where you’re going, anyone groping in the dark, trust in God... lean on your God! – Isaiah 50:10

God isn't passive in the dark, he does some of his best work there!  Light dawned on the night a humble, betrothed Jewish woman, living under Roman occupation was visited by an angel who said, “Greetings… you who are highly favored”. Such words dispelled Mary’s terror.  Yet, her favored position didn’t look very favored at first.  It meant, misunderstanding, confusion, a change-up on her marriage plans, a marginalized reputation, a donkey ride for who knows how long …in labor!... only to be turned away during her most significant hour of need.

Then, from the darkness of the womb, the light of life comes.  Life always emerges from dark places – the soil, the tomb, the womb.  When darkness finds it deepest strength, Light shows up and breaks its hold.  Jesus waited on Lazarus because he wanted to tell the world he is coming for the places that are good and dead!  Fragile flesh showed up in a stable to change the story breath by breath.  Love is born!  And if we let it in, Living Water will break the drought and shatter the dark places of shame, disappointment, regret and resignation.  No longer must we live under their oppressive occupation! God has every intention of redeeming the stories we’ve given up on – the ones where we believe there is no way out and resign to the idea that things are what they are.  Those are places best suited for birth!  

Through the heartfelt mercies of our God, God’s Sunrise (Jesus) will break upon us. Shining on those in the darkness, those sitting in the shadow of death, then showing us the way, one foot at a time, down the path of peace – Luke 1:79

The question is will you and I take the journey?  Am I, are you, willing to "lay to rest" our life for His?  Are we willing to change our espoused plans with this world, risk our treasured things and trust that in it all, somewhere deep beneath the barren surface, God has something altogether better in mind?  If we do, we will find we were never forgotten...We were instead highly favored.

Where do you feel the need for urgent change? 
Where might God have you in waiting?
Practice sitting still before him for a few minutes, quieting your heart.  Ask God to show you his great love for you 
See if he desires to give you a vision for his purpose and ask him how you can join him in it.

Christmas, Advent....Keeping Watch - Finding a purpose in the wait...

Here it is the middle of December and I’ve put nothing about Advent or Christmas on this blog yet!  It’s been a strange season so far.  A large part of me longs for the days when my kids were little and the biggest question of the season was, “When can we open our presents?” Although I hated that question when they were younger because I never wanted Christmas to be about that.  So much feels in flux this year, and holds ambiguous waiting within it. I guess that’s exactly what ADVENT is all about. - Waiting, unsure of the how, if or when?

To appease our kids while they waited for Christmas we used things like an advent calendar which held little surprises – usually a sweet chocolate - for each day, or maybe a routine, like reading a Christmas book every night before bed.  Whatever it was, it kept the fire of anticipation stoked, refocused their gaze and reminded them that although Christmas is not here yet, it will be soon!  They were too young to really know why it was such a big deal that God showed up on the scene as a baby.  They just knew Christmas was special - goodness and love showed up for the day, and who doesn’t anticipate that?

To be honest, I don’t have much anticipation this year.  I feel caught somewhere between “Come thou long expected Jesus” and “Deck these stupid Halls with stinking Boughs of Holly” ….fa-la-la-la-la-la is about all I can come up with. 

Perhaps in the chaotic suspense I've become numb and cynical.  Its wearisome waiting for life to somehow make its grand appearance and certain things to be made right…Waiting for direction, waiting for relationships to be healed - ones that despite my best efforts remain as is. Waiting to know if my dad’s stem cell transplant will work.  Many of you, like me are waiting for things too sacred to share.  Humorously, even our car is in flux as we wait to find out if we can drive it come January, and if Volkswagen will correct their rather blatant “oops” in their diesel vehicles. 

In some form or another we all wait.  It is the human condition.   We “second-advent” wait for God to bring our stories to completion in His.  Stories that when we look too far ahead lack direction…stories that are rendered incomplete and less than perfect for the time-being, with chapters we would like changed.  These are the stories Jesus entered in first Advent when he took his first breath in a mucky trough.  They were "waiting stories" that long searched for deliverance.  Yet God purposed the wait.  He was preparing a people for himself - a people who did not know the when, if or how.  As Jesus came ‘in the fullness of time’, many could not discern his arrival.  Only a few recognized the events as sacred….they were the ones who kept watch and stayed patient in the long pause.  They were the ones whose eyes may have been weary yet they found a way to steady their gaze, open the windows of advent and taste for a moment the sweet goodness to come.   How do you and I, in the midst of sacred anticipation and chaotic distractions, wait well?

Isaiah 40:3-4 says to prepare a way for the Lord, make a straight path, every valley be raised up and every mountain made low.  There is a purpose in our waiting.  This 'already - but not yet' life is preparing a way for Jesus if we let it.  Mountains, valleys, crooked paths…these are the things that inhibit our ability to receive the arrival of God.  Pride shows up (as it did for the Pharisee) in the high places causing us to look down upon fragile flesh.  Shame finds secret refuge in the valley, mocking our sacred self of all that needs redeeming and tells us we could never be worthy.  In our waiting, we become bored and distractions turn up to divert our path. We shift our gaze and try rewriting a chapters we don't like.  But what if we stay…what if we stay long enough through the boredom and the muck to let God enter our shame and love-level our pride?  What if we let Holiness companion with us through the crooked wait and discover the long awaited gift, the present, is actually his presence…. sight comes.  A star high above appears and journeys us further up and further in to the heart of God.  Our story, swallowed up into His, is redeemed. 

So let us wait…let's crack open the door of our shame and let love in. It won't be pretty but through it God will birth beauty.  Let's listen to our heart and own its arrogance that says, "I am better", and let;s fast from entitlement…lets look for windows of goodness and love happening in the mucky ordinary…and let us ask the Lifter of our head to set our eyes to the sky to keep watch for the star... and we will journey – one step at a time – to Him.

"Meanwhile, the moment we get tired in the waiting, God's Spirit is right alongside helping us along the way.  If we don't know how or what to pray, it doesn't matter.  He does our praying got us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs, our aching groans.  He knows us far better than we know ourselves, knows our pregnant condition, and keeps us present before God.  That's why we can be so sure that every detail of our lives of love for God is worked into something good."  Rom 8:26-28

This Is the Way - Encountering hope in the storm.

This post is part of an ongoing series of journal entries beginning with "Coming Back"

July 19, 2015


As I awoke this morning it took a few minutes for the pit in my stomach to return and remind me of where I was (a Palo Alto hotel room reserved for families with cancer).  “Oh God, I don’t want to do this day.  I don’t want to do any of them.”   Never the less, up we went, getting ready for the morning.  Scott (my brother) and I sat outside on the sunny patio catching up over coffee and a pastry.  It's been a while since we've seen each other...a long while!  It was nice to be sharing sibling space on a beautiful California summer morning, but it felt like a storm was brewing inside my heart.

As we left our comfortable patio space and re-entered the building, the rigid and reflective walls of the elevator felt rather apropos.  There we stood, suspended between levels of living, waiting for the doors to open so we may carry on.  I felt so conflicted about what I saw in those reflections.  We were an incomplete portrait, missing family members and framed with shock.  I saw myself furrowed in the face.  I wish I didn't look so grouchy. There are few pictures of my Brother and I together, but there we were captured on those tiny doors - doors that were about to open into...something.  I wanted to close the doors and try a new floor.  But at every stop resided stories like ours.  Someone working hard to stay alive, while their loved-ones worked hard to find a path and keep breathing.  Everybody is nice here.  They open doors before you've reached for the handle, but the empty IV towers and lined up wheel chairs are visual reminders of why this special treatment at the hotel desk is so easy to come by. 

Walking through the entrance of Stanford is like walking into an alternate universe.  It's the Stanford Universe.  Where hepa filters greet the weary traveler and blue scrubs with diplomas walk by in teams of five.  Sleeping family members line the couches of the waiting areas much like an airport gate at 3 am.  This is where they sleep when guest houses are full and overnight stays are beyond the budget, but no one opens the door for them here…at least not really.  Down the long corridor we walked, passing doctors, radiology labs, nursing stations until we reach the atrium, which opens up like a sanctuary amid medical chaos.  Colorful flowers and little wooden benches with plaques can go rather unappreciated until they become the only respite.  How this beauty enters the eyes and soothes the soul.  I am grateful for this garden, and that God thought to make reminders of his goodness from soil and dirt.  This "wall canvas"  doesn't cost a dime.  It doesn't matter your means; this display of attentive care is for everyone.  Feast your eyes, dear husband with three small children, or wife of 60 years, or gangster-gone-jaundice.  Let the delicate blossoms remind you there is a Gardener who attends us all.  You, we, they, matter to Him.  There isn't a tear shed that He does not notice and collect.   

I wonder how my kids are doing back home.  Are you attending to them, Lord? They will probably sleep until noon, largely insulated from this tempest, packing for their long-awaited trip.  OH God!  The trip!...We are set to leave in five short days for Slovenia.  I don’t know what to do.  This mission with the kids seemed so clear when we decided to go.  How could we have known what would come up?  How could your voice have seemed so clear when we said yes? You knew about my dad then, right?  Do I – do we – stay or do we go?  I'm not sure if knowing you had this planned from the beginning brings assurance or a deeper mistrust right now.  I want to be mad at you, but somewhere deep in the recesses of me lives a secret atrium – a “holy of hollies” – where, in your mercy, you are staying present and I am not capsized.  Albeit ever so slight and quiet, it holds as a beacon in the night.

This is no detour.  This is the path.  These are the deeper, richer things of God.

"Although the Lord has given you bread of privation and water of oppression, He, your Teacher will no longer hide himself, but your eyes will behold your Teacher. Your ears will hear a voice behind you saying, "this is the way; walk in it."  Isaiah 30:21

Abba Father! - An honest confession in the midst of the storm

It’s hard to determine how to engage this recent season of the soul.  Maybe it's best if I begin by going backwards from the last post...back to where it all started to unravel.  So bear with me as I share a few journal entries written over the summer. Hopefully it will unfold as we go along. Brackets ([... ]) will be used for clarification when needed, otherwise, these are just plain old journal entries - My hope is others will find voice in their own story through it.

July 17, 2015

The view from my "thinking spot" at Lee Abbey

“ 'Over the past two years I have participated in a study of  the life of Jesus where we seek to live in on-going awareness of him as his apprentice (I say “apprentice” because ‘disciple” seems a bit rhetoric in our current Christian culture) and participate in God's good and beautiful kingdom.  We find it by arranging our daily activity in such a way to allow for continual prayerful companionship with him on behalf of ourselves and others.  We find true freedom as we encounter him in our honest human condition and learn to "take up our mat" and walk with him, through prayer, community and scripture.  And as we do, we flounder and flourish in a grace-rhythmed dance with God.  We learn how to live lovingly with others and discover our unique role in the world for the sake of God’s greater Kingdom. Living as an apprentice of Jesus seems a formidable but lovely task.' 

[I typed those words in June, having just returned from staying at the beautiful Lee Abbey in Devon, England. They were the introduction of a larger paper that discussed in further detail the beauty of discipleship to Christ.  I was coming off a very hectic, spiritually dry season and was thankful for the respite, so the words flowed rather easily.  It seemed God was calling me into new places and I was excited!   It's funny when the soul makes space for God how the Father - Abba - finds a way to dine with the ragamuffin and make her cup full.   I was full.  Satisfied.  Ready to move into the deeper, richer things of God.]

Living with Jesus sounds so nice,  'Living in in-going awareness of him.', in 'continual prayerful companionship' Oh the words greet me like a warm blanket! I suppose it’s easy to pontificate the goodness of God when our circumstances support it.  

Photo Credit: Dru Norris

But today, here in this care-house for families with cancer? Those words seem a distant aspiration.  This has been an unusual summer and, among other things, my normally healthy dad has been diagnosed with an aggressive form of leukemia.  Clouds have come to cover the sunny coast-line of England that was so recently in view. Rain falls, and I don't know if I can trust these waters.  As I sit in this hospital waiting room, a different set of words are pouring forth:  

"I want to wake up from the dream.  Run away.  Escape. This is not the road I want.  Its not the way anyone planned it. Go away!

Please, Life!  Go back to normal!...It's strange how the day before everything changes feels just like any other day,with the same routines, same annoyances, same joys, same, same same.  But Same is different now.

How did we get here?  How did the bottom fall out so ruthlessly?  Where did Normal go?

Normal just introduced itself as doctors and nurses; as sterile rooms and beds with machines.  Normal takes blood counts and measures fevers and fatigue.

Normal is long text updates and tears held back by swallows.  It's says just enough,  never more."  

God I know you're here ...but where?  Where is your voice in the storm?  Where are the 'unforced rhythms of grace' that Matthew 11:28-30 talk about?  Where is the joy promised in the midst of sorrow? Or the peace that passes understanding?  Life with you is my investment, my bedrock, my hope! Now when it seems most vital I’m at a loss to engage it.  Rather than a 'grace-rhythmed dance with you', I’m, angry, sad, disappointed, resistant to the circumstances, and full of tantrums!  It’s been ugly…my soul-feet weren't expecting this journey and I am left breathless.

This doesn't feel like a 'Saturday', where we are simply held inside of life's pause awaiting Sunday's dawn.  This feels like Friday, where situations turn cruel.  Friday says, 'Father, if it's your will let this cup pass.'  Friday includes a garden in the night where the soul wrestles with God and sweat-blood falls into the dirt while vigilant prayers fall asleep at the tree.  Friday is a hike up a dusty hill with burdens laden and strength dwindling.  Friday bleeds at sunset.  

Oh find me in this honest human condition, find us all!  Because sometimes we weep. Sometimes we cry out  'Abba Father!  Why have you forsaken me,' ... and that's OK with you." 

Coming Back - This summer's journey of finding God in the storms. Part 1

 I’m writing this while sitting in Starbucks.  Not just any Starbucks, it’s the Starbucks – the one where I’ve gone for years.  I sit in one corner meeting with women talking about life circumstances and how God might be shaping us through them.  My dad often sits less than 20 feet away in the opposite corner having similar conversations with his coffee buddies.  The workers nicknamed their table “the office” as they occupy it every morning for hours.  Stories have been told at that table – stories about the market and economy, a spouse struggling with cancer, a home trying to be sold, and retired dreams still held close in conversation.  Every now and then, I hear their familiar belly laughs making their way to my corner.  There’s just one difference, my dad isn’t sitting there.

Today is the first day I’ve returned since July when my dad was diagnosed with leukemia.  which explains why there hasn't been much on this blog lately...but this won't be a sad post, because my dad is recovering.  It is, however, going to be an honest one.  In fact, a few of them will be.

How does it feel to walk into this sacred space?  Weird.  I forgot the doors open out and tried pushing them 3 or 4 times.  I’m sure I looked a little foolish before remembering how the doors work and how the fan announces every entrance.  At first glance I see the guys.  Do I say Hi?  Or do I just get in line and avoid the cordial hellos that may beg a report -  a report now recitable in my sleep...  Maybe I’ll just get in line.  I don’t really recognize anyone else, which surprises me.  Someone in here has the same name as my dad and I keep resisting the reflex to look over and greet the man with a "daughter's greeting". The barista asked for my name for the first time in years.   But several weeks have passed and things change, I suppose.  

It always feels strange to see how life has moved on while yours (including the ones close to you) has been blown over by a freight train and parts of your life are still laying all over the track.  I’m trying to pick up the pieces and find a focus, but feel so disconnected – so numb.  Is this normal?

Maybe I should feel happier...By all accounts, dad should not be with us today… he’s not out of the woods yet, but he is here.  He is probably wondering if that’s a good thing.  So much to adjust. So much to build back.  So many doctors – so many bills, so many private, life-altering moments that can never be explained.

As I watch the last of his buddies leave for the day, I am still sitting here in my corner, where a bitter sip can be sweetened with a shot of vanilla....where I finished a devotional on Ps 23, and remembered how God blesses us with a  cup that overflows of his love and goodness....where the barista's promise on the back of the cup is to "always make it right" If I don't love this drink.  ....but I know better than I did last June, the promise found in a bitter sip.

So, I have settled back into my corner, drinking my tea. What started out sweet in June and turned bitter by August is changing. Autumn is just days away.

...Maybe tomorrow I’ll see if dad can come.

Beautiful, Lovely Community - Dealing with the vision, the disappointment, and the possibility of lasting Christian community

photo by Kelly Hofer

Welcome one another…Forgive one another….Be faithful… Bear with…Be kind, be compassionate…Spur on toward love and good deeds…Submit…Pray… Confess…Encourage…be united...share.

Don’t slander…Don’t make up stories that hurt…Don’t provoke… Don’t envy….

…love.  These are the “One Anothers” found in scripture; mostly in the writings from Paul. They offered a vision of community - One of gracious, open, and loving friendship.  I don't know about you, but I want to be a part of such a community.  

The Climate of the One-Another Community
  

Between Jesus and Paul, these characteristics of  come up 59 times.  Which suggests that not only was it a big deal, but also that it wasn’t already happening.  The early church was still learning what it meant to be followers of "The Jesus way".  Some of the disciples/apostles didn’t always get along (Acts 11, 15; and Gal 2).  And sometimes they were exclusive and cliquish with "outsiders" (Luke 9:54). They were often too tired or distracted to pray for each other (Matt 26:36-42).  There was disunity because of gossip.  Arrogance, misunderstandings, and, long-held offences fractured this new little church.  There were marital affairs, lawsuits, and distorted sexuality which Paul addressed in several of his letters to the churches.  Fear of persecution was real.  Unity in Christ and unconditional love, sparse!  This was the community in which the “one anothers” were interjected.

Sound familiar?  I’m going to venture a guess it isn’t much different from the community we see now, in the 21^st century.  The church is fractured and broken because it is made up of broken, fractured people - people who, like you and me, make mistakes, big and small, every day.  People who forget to pray their worries, but remember to gossip their concerns.  People whose pain is full but healing and forgiveness, slender.  People who feel isolated and desperately desire a close circle of friends. People who are still learning to be followers of "The Jesus way". 

The Search for Community

We long for a “one another” place, but rarely find it.  In fact most of us, after having sought it somewhere for a while, become disillusioned when our idea(l) of community is shattered.  We often move on, hoping to find a better version elsewhere.  We think we see it happening at this church or that group and we head there.  Perhaps it works for a while, but it isn't long before we are disillusioned again.  Like a pot at the end of a rainbow, healthy, robust community appears a promise always a bit out of reach. 

So what are we to do? In our efforts to find it we must first decide to BE the "One Another community ourselves.  What we long for begins with us learning to live like Jesus - gracious, open and loving...even when its hard.   It means I may need to re-arrange my life in such a way that it has room for relationships; which may require finding time for hospitality and honest conversation in lieu of sport activities, or my favorite T.V. show.  It means when a brother or sister who shares my

commitment to follow Christ comes to me with a concern about my life, I will openly and humbly listen, and courageously return the favor when needed. That's love and encouragement.  It means when I am angry or hurt by someone’s actions, I will let God do the work in me first, and I will process the situation with an appropriate few instead of seeking comfort through a prayer request that may only lead to further misunderstanding and offence.  That's forgiveness and regard for another's reputation.  It means I will confess my sins when appropriate, believing that in doing so God does a healing work in me (James).   It doesn’t mean I will do these things perfectly, in fact it’s likely I’ll get it wrong a lot of the time, but I will do them intentionally…with others who are desiring to do the same…we will “work out our salvation” and “not give up meeting together as some are in the habit of doing"…we will "spur one another on toward love and good deeds and all the more as we see the day approaching.” (Hebrews 10:24-25) 

The Messy Work of One-Another-ness

Yet even as I type these words I feel the “ideal” creeping back in.  This is hard work, because often our vision collides with reality, and because of that, sometimes we’d rather use these “one anothers” as weapons of righteous indignation.  “Doesn’t scripture say to be kind?”  Comes our hearts-cry when we’ve been hurt.   “How can they call themselves a Christian and act like that!?”  ...And sometimes people feel that way about us.

One thing is becoming soberingly clear, we cannot transport and “drop” ourselves into loving community.  It must be built.  We become the recipients of it as we put hand to trowel, lock arms and decided to stay in it together…letting Christ form us through our collective surrender to his higher ways of love.  There was no other pathway for the early church and there is no other pathway for us.
In fact, crashing up against the disillusionment of the ideal can be a grace in disguise.  It affords us the opportunity to experience our need for love in a deeper way.  It is only when we become needy for love at the deepest heart level that we can begin to consider something more - Christ’s love.  When we run out of options that we thought would satisfy us, we are more open to Christ.  It enables us to receive His love as it pours itself into our vacant longings and we become full.   Full enough to love back. After all, we love because he first loved us. (1 John 4:19)

So what do you think?
 Have you been on a search for community/friendship that continues to evade your experiences?
Are you moving from place to place to find it?  Are you looking for it in others and neglecting the role you play?

God has a vision for his church – a vision that takes form as we step into relationship with Him and others, release our ideal of it, and trust that in the messy work of “One Another-ness” we will encounter His good and beautiful life together.

Slow-Chewing Mornings - a conversation about Christian meditation

Oh, how I love your law! I meditate on it all day long. How sweet are your words to my taste,  sweeter than honey to my mouth! – Psalm 119:97,103

The other morning as I sleepily made my way to the coffee maker, for whatever reason, something smelled just like my grandparent’s kitchen did when I was growing up.  Instantly I was transported into memories of waking up in their small valley ranch home where the mornings were warm and quiet and the aroma of  instant coffee shared the air with the newly-cut alfalfa next door.  I could picture my grandpa reading the newspaper in the kitchen next to their old formica table, and grandma standing at the stove-top where eggs were usually sizzling. She was always sure to tell my brother and I to fill up our belly and clean our plate.  I loved mornings like that.  They were grace-rhythmed, slow-chewing mornings.

Isn’t it funny how one whiff of the familiar can bring a person right back to something otherwise long forgotten?  As I stood 40+ years later in my own kitchen, I remembered things like the little wooden, pig-shaped plaque that hung above my grandma’s stove with the words, “Pigs is Pigs”.  I remember many laughs around that plaque and how it never came off the wall.  I recalled one of my grandfather’s more common mantras: “Michellie, just remember you don’t have to get clean to take a bath.”  That was his way of reminding us that God’s love was unconditional and we come best when we come to him just as we are. They are words that continue to shape me, even to this day.  That kitchen was a place where we took in some of the nutrients of living. 

I was recently asked why I put such an emphasis on meditative prayer.  My answer will be similar to these memories.  But before I go on, a brief clarification might be helpful.  Christian Meditative Prayer always has as its foundation the Word of God and worship.  It is not a random reaching for nirvana nor is it empty.  Much like the slow-chewing mornings shared in my grandparent’s kitchen, in meditation we sit with God and chew on his word.  We let it be digested for what it is, taking in its nutrients in shared community with the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, until we are full.  It is where God’s Living Word mediates his written word.   Things otherwise long-forgotten, are recalled as the Spirit wafts what has, over time and careful thought, been made familiar. His Truth moves from mind to heart as God's love-mantra is remembered in quiet rumination...We are "filled up"... shaped by his word.

While I am genuinely surprised at the concern in our current western church culture around meditation, I understand it.  There are many spiritual cultures seeking to find deeper understandings about gods and humanity.  There are many that claim meditation as one of their primary modes of prayer, but they lack the foundation of the One True God and His written and Living word.   Scripture mentions meditation 20 times, so let’s not relinquish the term, and let's not assume it means the same in every circle.  Incorrect labeling can cause confusion and we will be tempted to reject it altogether.  It will starve the soul just like skipping those meals in my grandparents kitchen would have starved my body.  If we want to get to know God we will spend time slow-chewing with him.  We will read what he has to say, we will look close at each word, we will give it slow-chewing, prayerful time so that it becomes familiar and integrated.  

There is a video recently produced by Pandora Jewelry.  It shows children from the ages of 3-9 years old, blindfolded and guided towards a group of mothers. 

Click here for video

One by one they made their way through the group. Searching expectantly, for what would be familiar to them – hands, hair, face; each eventually found the one they knew as mom.  It was not only powerful, it was beautiful!  Those blindfolded children reminded me of seasons in my life when God seemed to disappear – The times when faith and truth are identified by what has been discovered in past nearness and carried in memory.  That is the gift cultivated through meditation - God becomes familiar.  And it happens as we search expectantly His Word, forging a God-mantra, drawing near, chewing slowly, being nourished.  So that even when all goes dark we are still finding the one we know as God.

GOOD Friday

 Jesus replied, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.  Anyone who loves their life will lose it, while anyone who hates their life in this world will keep it for eternal life.

He then began to teach them that the Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests and the teachers of the law, and that he must be killed and after three days rise again. He spoke plainly about this, and Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. But when Jesus turned and looked at his disciples, he rebuked Peter. 'Get behind me, Satan!"'He said.  'You do not have in mind the concerns of God, but merely human concerns'" - John 12:23-25

Then he called the crowd to him along with his disciples and said: “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and

follow me.  For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me and for the gospel will save it. -  Mark 8:31-33

           Today is “good” Friday.  GOOD.  I wonder if the disciples would have called it good.  I wonder if they would have called it something different, like “unjust” Friday, or “disillusioned” Friday.  Maybe “Dark” Friday would have seemed fitting.  Yet it has come to be known as “Good Friday”, and while on the surface it does not make a whole lot of sense, upon a deeper look it does.

            It is a day that proclaims God's purpose of loving and redeeming the world through the cross of Jesus Christ. It is a day that is good because God was drawing the world to himself in Christ. As seen in John's gospel, particularly, God was in control. He was not making the best of a bad situation.  He was actually working out HIS intention for the world — winning salvation for all people.  He was making a way for you and I to be with him, and not just in Heaven when we die. He was also making a way for us to be in close proximity (abide) with him now!  Right here on this dusty place called earth, God drew near through Jesus and he still draws near because of the cross and resurrection of Christ. 

            But has Good Friday become lost in the clamor of Easter?  Sometimes a chocolate egg sounds a whole lot better than a Lenten fast.  And 350,000 watts of sacred cantata vibration is much more alluring than the clash of hammer and nail upon that which we hold sacred.  Oh how often I want the resurrection without the cross.  I don’t want to suffer, and often don’t want to be reminded of it.  I don’t think I am alone.  Over the past few days many Easter ads from well-meaning churches have been smattered on Facebook and websites.  “Come to our church on Easter Sunday!  We will entertain you with flashy music, our pastor will wow you with his inspirational sermon, and our members will blow you away with their hospitality.”  …somewhere in there is a story about the crucified, resurrected Jesus. 

            I’ve sang in a fair share of Easter programs where melodically I sang resurrection words externally, all the while internally I was asking God, “Why don’t I feel resurrected?  Where’s the life-abundant you promised?”   I comforted my personal inquisition with a quick, “Oh well, maybe next year.”  But next year would come with the same empty promises.  I desperately wanted something more than I was experiencing.  I felt like a big, fat fake...and I desperately wanted real life.   

            This morning I over heard a television news story talking about life after death. (I have no idea of its contents because I’ve been typing this.) The only phrase I heard was “two people, grateful for death, now living.”  How perfect for this post!

          All those Easters  I longed for life but skipped the cross.  I was compelled to protect what felt sacred – they were good things!  Health, financial security, relationships, ....  But resurrected life comes after death.  We must move through the surrender - into the unchosen sacrifices of hopes, dreams and aspirations - in order to live free.  We are not alone when we cry out in naked forsaken-ness.  The One who hung on a cross shares the sorrow and can be trusted with our pain.  We “suffer for a while but joy comes in the morning.”  A kernel of wheat must fall to the ground and die before it can serve its intended purpose and birth more life.  And it was not until I embraced the difficult pieces of my story, and laid to rest my ‘sacred-somethings’ that life started to showed up.  It has been through a path that includes disillusionment, frustration, and dark nights of the soul that has lead to a resurrection.  It often felt unjust.  Like Peter, I wanted (and sometimes still do) to rebuke Jesus for suggesting the path to real life means letting mine go.  And while I cannot drink the cup from which Christ drank (Matt 20:22), if I want to encounter his life, there is a cross involved - Jesus’ and mine.   Jesus unjustly hung on a cross for the sake of a restored relationship between God and us..   He rose again, to shatter the power of death and make right-now, real, eternal life possible.  Good Friday reminds me that life is found in “taking up my cross daily to follow him” …. Jesus’ resurrected life will lift a dead soul from the grave.  In the news caster’s words, we can be grateful for death because through it, we can now live.  

"Breate" - Christian Spiritual Contemplation

Contemplation:

1.     The action of looking thoughtfully at, or giving careful thought to, something for a period of time.

• “He made his decision after many hours of contemplation.”  "She contemplated the beauty of the meadow.”
• Synonyms: examination, inspection, observation, survey, study, scrutiny, rumination, reflection, introspection, consideration.

 Contemplation can be described as the steady gaze of the soul upon God, where we seek to be prayerfully present with Him. It is where we learn to place ourselves before God and become attentive to His voice. It is less about petitioning the throne of a distant God and more about abiding with the One who is near. (John 15)

Three Tales About Breathing;

               I remember the first time I ever stepped into a classroom to substitute teach.  I stood outside the door knowing that just beyond that point were a couple dozen second-graders full of energy and attitude.  For the next seven hours it was up to me to manage their behavior, keep them on schedule, and hopefully teach them something!  I was a nervous wreck!  How could mini people hold such power?  I took a few deep breaths to gather my thoughts and proceeded through the door. It's funny how breath becomes short when something overwhelms us...

..... As an infant, our son sometimes came down with a horrible cough that would prevent him from breathing easily.  Some called it “the croup”.  I remember one night it was especially bad and we called the doctor (who was not all that thrilled to be awakened at 1 am, but we were desperate).  His advice was to keep our son calm to help him inhale the steamy air.  It meant sitting with him in our tiny little bathroom with the shower running, holding him, and singing a song or two for comfort... while he did his best to simply breathe.  The more still he sat, the better his breathing.  Thankfully it worked.   If you've ever been with someone who is having difficulty breathing you know it can be scary and quickly become life-threatening! ...

 ....Recently my friend’s daughter was hospitalized with RSV which is a virus that affects the lungs and breathing passages. The doctor told her parents that the best way to help her recover was to show her how to inhale deeply, letting the whole lung fill up and function the way it was meant to.   Breathing is one of those thing we simply must do.  We cannot function if we do not breathe.  So where am I going with all this talk about breathing when the subject is contemplation?  Contemplation helps us recover from a breathless life.  

In a similar way to my son and our friends daughter, you and I live with spiritual viruses that infect our spiritual breathing capacity.  Life tensions rise daily in the form of a crammed schedule, an angry boss, fussy children, personal frustrations - I could go on, but surely you get the picture.  These are the joy-stealers, the life-suckers, and if we are not careful, they will eclipse our view of God entirely. Sometimes we need to let our soul "breathe".

            As a voice coach I would tell students to breathe in a similar manner as the doctors mentioned above.   It is important for a singer to avoid forced breathing where the breath is gasped, tense, and shallow.  Inhaling correctly allows the singer to bring the full expression of the phrase to life.  Quiet, thoughtful, listening prayer – contemplative prayer – is like breathing.  We pause to "breathe in" the breath of God, deep and free, which in turn allows us to bring a fuller expression of Him to others through our own holy life-song.  
It happens as we become still, intentioning our thoughts his direction, letting all the things that steal our breath to be acknowledged and surrendered to God.  This “life-breath” fills us to capacity, allowing us to function the way we were meant to function.  Joy and life are restored.  Energy come back, fresh perspectives emerge – ones that reflect the benevolent, grace-filled nature of GOD.  Yes, pausing to exhale and inhale is a good thing!

There are many well-meaning Christian advisers who misinform the broader Christian community about "contemplation" saying it is about emptying one's mind into nothing... and to stay far away from it all.  Well, I don't know if an empty mind is even possible! Our minds were never meant to be void. But we must be careful in this practice to consider our ability to distinguish God's voice from others, or even our own.  Richard Foster offers these check points to guage if this a practice of prayer one might be ready for. 1. "Am I becoming less afraid of being known and owned by God?" 2. "Is prayer developing in me as a welcomed discipline?" 3. is it becoming easier for me to receive constructive criticsm?" 4. "Am I learning to move beyond personal offense and freely forgive those who have wronged me?"  These are markers for growth that help us distinguish our heart posture.  There are supernatural forces at play that are not Divine that will prey upon our unsurrenered soul (1 Pet 5:8)  But as we surrender to the above, we discover the God is indeed greater than he that is in the world! ((1 John 4:4)

Sadly, following the advice to stay away from thoughtful, Christ-centered, contemplation altogether, suffocates our soul.  Christian contemplation is not about emptying our minds into nothing-ness.  (A quick dictionary search will dispel that.)  But it is about becoming still, emptying ourselves of the tensions that rise, and letting go of thoughts that eclipse God. It has as it's goal union with God (John 15:4,5,11; 17:21). Once we have let go of what clutters our mind into chaos, we can pause and take notice of whatever is pure, true, honorable, lovely, excellent or of good repute. (Phil 4:8)  God, un-eclipsed, will calm us with his presence, in his arms we will hear his song, we will remember He is God and we are not...and we will once again, breathe. (Ps 46:10).

How about you?  Does your soul feel breathless?  Is your mind cluttered? Are your actions agitated and desperate, like someone scrambling for air?

If so, stop.  Be still.  Let yourself fall into quiet contemplation before the One who loves you deeply.  Steady your gaze on Him. He is the one who gave Adam his first life-breath, and He will do the same for you.

Lost In Translation

Recently I had the opportunity to visit London.  It is one of my favorite cities. I enjoy visiting a place with such rich history, while still having the advantage of shared language.  In my opinion, that's a win-win! However not all words mean the same thing. Take for instance the word "jumper". In the USA, a jumper is a shoulder-to-thigh girl's dress, whereas in the UK a jumper is a knitted garment worn over a shirt or tee by either gender.  

Leaving from Victoria Station to 
another, I noticed this sign. Now if you are an American you will know that the word "tooting" likely has a different meaning than is meant for this sign...and that's all I am going to say about that.  

However, it causes me to think about the way a misunderstanding can arise when the language being used is not universally understood by all parties. Some of these misunderstandings are having a profound impact on Christian thought and community.   Words like meditate or contemplate seem to evoke peace in one person, while at the same time striking alarm in another.   Phrases like silence and solitude may sound attractive to one but repel someone else.  So what is my point?  These are phrases that seem to be dividing the body of Christ more than unifying it.  And frankly, I think we have more in common than we realize, but sometimes what we say gets lost in translation.

I've been asked if I practice contemplation or meditation.  And while the question does not surprise me, it is clear by the way the question is asked, that we might not share the same definition of the word, so I usually asked for clarity.  "Well, do you pray using a candle or try to empty your mind?" Usually comes their concerned response.

"I suppose sometimes I enjoy the beauty of a candle when I am thinking on Christ.  It reminds me that He is the light of the world (John 1), but I don't use a candle every time I pray.  And sometimes I ruminate on a portion of scripture and 'chew' on it a bit longer because it helps me remember his truth and make it real in me (James 1:23).

Am I searching for a stage of Nirvana in doing such things...nope.  Not one bit. Have I crossed over to Zen Buddhism? Not unless the Levites did when they were keeping the Lamp-stands lit in the Tabernacle, or unless David did when he opened up his great songs of worship with a call to 'meditate on this day and night'."   

Usually the next question is something like, "What about this whole silence and solitude thing?"  I guess after a busy or difficult day, week, month or year, silence and solitude offers a welcomed rest.  In it, we can quiet the voices that have come at us all day long, everyday. Its a chance to come away with God and just hear His voice. In that regard I enjoy being alone in silence, and I am willing to guess that many of us do, I know Jesus and the disciples did (Matt 14, Luke 6 & 9)!


But these questions are asked for good reason.  I am grateful for the inquiry because it means their meaning is not being assumed.  The fact is, these words have become confusing, and without realizing it we've inserted our own definition - drawing from it our own conclusion. We do this often, don't we? We almost can't help it. Words mean something to us and they should... but sometimes I assume I know the meaning, or the story, behind the words when in reality what I really need is a little clarification.
There was a short Youtube video that went viral not very long ago.  It showed two young children discussing whether it was "Sprinkowen or wainin'" outside.  Can I say it is absolutely adorable?!

Here's the link.

Did you watch it?  Oh I hope so!  It is just so ridiculously cute! Each child meant the same thing, but were using different words. An argument ensued, at which point near the end, one struck out and "hurt the heart" of the other.  This video has a lot to say about the way in which we might communicate and assume meaning.  It's worth some thought....sometimes we hurt the heart of another with our commendable concern, but quickened judgments.  I can only wonder if one of these cuties had asked, "What do you mean?"  if the whole problem would have been avoided, and I wonder the same thing about the church.

The next few blog posts will be dedicated to just such words...words where we may have heard, "Sprinkowen" and have no idea that what they really meant was "wainin".   So be sure to come back and take a peek to see how the discussion is going. Let's keep from getting things lost in translation.  If you have ideas or questions, an anonymous response can be added to the comment column below.  

All praise to HIM, that is God - Father, Son and Holy Spirit, who is in all things, above all things and before all things!