Staying - When we stay in the valley and become honest with God something remarkable happens

The last SATURDAYS post talked about God redeeming even the darkest parts of our story.  I love that idea...God turning despair into hope, Night into day, dark into light. But often the idea is a lot easier than the execution.  How do these dark-wait-days become redeemed?  How can we practically find God in them?  Have you asked these questions?  I know I have!  
    

Perhaps it begins when we stop trying to turn on the light ourselves.  Of course it's only natural to look for light in dark places.  When my dad got sick I wanted to find ways to alleviate the pain and shock of it all.  No one with any appetite for life initially enters a difficult season by saying, "Oh yeah baby!  Bring it on...the more desolate the better!"  Nope...  We initially want out!  But skipping across the top of pain does not allow us to be present with it; and only as we become present with it that we will find healing.


While I believe that to be true, often I need to learn how to do it.  In the case with my dad, the only thing I really knew was that I didn’t like it.  I wanted things to go back to the way they were.  I dreaded the journey ahead for him, my mom, for everybody.  So, secretly in my heart, I tried to find a light switch to turn on.  I wanted to illuminate this path and find something better, but there was no light switch.  (Now, before anyone corrects me, don’t worry, I already know Jesus is the light of life...I don't need a reminder) Since I could not find a way to illuminate that path, I groped for a door and looked for a way out, but every door opened to the same reality.  I was so frustrated and overwhelmed.  But God had a plan, He still does.  And one of the gifts of such sacred darkness is that there is no escape.  

To find the light of Christ we must be willing to journey the dark, solemn places of our soul that rise up and question the goodness of God.  Job did that and he wasn't scolded, he was actually reminded of God.  Perhaps some would say, we shouldn’t question God’s goodness, or that we should trust him more.  Well, that’s a good idea and when you meet someone who has that figured out, let me know.   I have tried bringing my “should” or “shouldn’t” self to God.  It doesn’t work very well, because it isn’t my real-self.  I don’t need God to love the person I should be, I need him to love the person I AM.  Nothing discloses the real-me more than moments of desolation.  

I suppose that’s why raw honesty works best...at least it does for me.  In that hotel room near Stanford sometime around 3 am I could cry out, “God, I don’t like this!  I’m overwhelmed with sadness and disappointment.   I don’t trust you to be good right now because the pain and shock I feel eclipses much of what I’ve learned about you....or at least what I've come to believe. If you are who you say you are, please come and meet me here.” …And he did, and he brought his goodness with him.  Like Job, I wasn't scolded in his presence, I was reminded.
So I asked God to open my eyes to what was real and to see His goodness in it.  As I came across a garden at Stanford I was reminded there is a Gardener that grows beautiful things from dirt that holds seeds; and the soil bed of our hearts are being prepared, all the time, for sacred work and beauty.  Walking through the many waiting areas God gave me eyes to see past the medicine and notice the sleepy sojourners in waiting rooms, unforgotten by the One who is high above it all.  He's the one who remembers our waiting condition and keeps us present before the Father even when  we can't do so ourselves (Rom 8, Isa 55:8-9).  He collects our tears and carries our sorrows (Ph 56:8).  He does it while we work out our disappointments with Him, with our story and with ourselves.  

It takes time to make room for such soul-space.  Silence and solitude are key.  In them, the many screams from this crazy roller-coaster can be silenced. His still small voice finds an echo that carries its way to the canyons of our dismay.  And while we wait in the basin of darkness, we learn to die.  We loosen our grip on what we must have, who we must be, the things we must accomplish, and we simply begin to rest in who we are and what we’ve been given.  We become present with ourselves and, if we invite him, Jesus shows up too.  The sinner dines with Holiness and in the power of God’s loving presence, we are changed. 

I am slowly learning to let the Light of Life love me in honest visitations.  This, after all, is our inheritance.  Let us receive it with…joy.

Become silent for a moment. Stay quiet long enough to notice what's rumbling in your heart and mind?   
What honest plea might you have for God? 
Practice trusting Him by voicing that plea before him.  Set your 'should' and 'shouldn't' aside and  dare to speak what rises up.
Let the Light of Life love you in the darkness and hold you present before Himself. 

Hear Him say, "Oh beloved, show me your face, let me hear your voice.  For your voice is sweet and your face is lovely.  There's nothing in your story that I have not seen and remembered."   

More later….

Faith-Borrowing

Yesterday I was on a walk and noticed a park with newly planted trees; each with their own set of stakes to keep them growing straight until they are rooted enough on their own to weather wind and rain...It reminded of me of a time several years ago when one of our kids encountered their own type of storm and reached a point where their circumstances collided with their faith.  Up until then, everything about God seemed to coincide with their experiences.  And really, their circumstances had not yet been out of their control; which meant, “I make a good choice and good comes of it.  I make a bad choice and bad comes of it.”  This was one of those seasons where making a seemingly good choice brought unexpected pain and disappointment and their faith needed stakes.

I remember walking with my child on the beach as they poured out their heart with little reserve or consolation.  It takes so few words for a parent to discern the meaning behind their child’s eyes, or understand the phrase that silently follows their sigh. 

 
At the end of our walk I said, “I know this is painful.  And I also know there is nothing I can do to fix it.  I know suggesting it will all work out for the good is useless right now - even though it’s true. But your dad and I have lived many more years than you and it has given us the chance to see God work.  We have more stories to look back upon and recall His faithfulness, even when God did not seem faithful at the time.  You are just beginning that journey.  Don't spend your energies conjuring up faith for stories that have yet to be told.   Rest in ours while God builds them in you.  I guess what I'm trying to say is that I want to loan you my faith. Where you have none right now, borrow mine.  You can use as much as you want and claim it as your own until you have what you need.  It’s OK if you don’t or can’t believe God right now. I will believe on your behalf.  I will hold your story present before God, believing for you.  Borrow my stories until you have your own.  Borrow my faith until you find yours.”

Up until that night with my child I had not considered lending my faith to someone.  This was one of those moments when God showed up and dispensed His wisdom when I had none.  Since then, however, I've given the idea considerable thought.  Can someone actually borrow another’s faith?  Or was it just a lapse in judgment that caused me to say those words to my child? 

I recall a more personal experience when I struggled deeply over  something.  A friend came by and simply shared how she too had a similar struggle and it would pass -The days would get better.  Oh how I hung on those words. I didn't have the capacity to see beyond the immediate, but she could.

Faith Borrowing….

Here’s what Roman’s 8 has to say…”Meanwhile, the moment we get tired in the waiting, God’s Spirit is right alongside helping us along. If we don’t know how or what to pray, it doesn't matter. He does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs, our aching groans. He knows us far better than we know ourselves, knows our [ expectant,wearied and waiting] condition, and keeps us present before God. That’s why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good."

In the way I offered my child my faith back then, and the way I borrowed my friends, God offers to His children something similar.   We can go limp and rest in His stories.  We can sigh and trust that the Holy Spirit will translate our breath into meaningful words before the Father.   We can borrow His stories in others until we have our own.   After all isn't that why we are surrounded by "such a great cloud of witnesses"?  Doesn't it help us "press on towards the goal" ?  Heb 12:1

So I am borrowing Mary’s faith as she sat at Jesus’ feet, abandoned to Him.

I am borrowing Esther’s faith as she waited for God to “right” the story and accomplish his purposes.

I am borrowing Peter’s faith while He stood at the fire with the resurrected Christ and reignited what had been snuffed out.

I am borrowing Joshua and Caleb’s faith as they saw giants in the land and believed against all odds that God would fight the battle.

I guess those trees in the park reminded me that sometimes we just need a little...

...Faith-Borrowing.

Soul-Flavors

Meanwhile, the moment we get tired in the waiting, God’s Spirit is right alongside helping us along. If we don’t know how or what to pray, it doesn’t matter. He does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs, our aching groans. He knows us far better than we know ourselves, knows our [waiting] condition, and keeps us present before God. That’s why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good.- Rom 8
...A continuation from the previous blogs beginning with Burned Out...

Well, we are almost finished with the series about the inward soul journey - woo hoo!!  Just a few more entries :)  Here we go...

The other day I visited a winery and tasted a new wine being introduced.  The flavor was amazing!  The woman went on to explain how the wine had been aged for eighteen months in new oak barrels.  Once wine initially ferments it typically gets placed in barrels to age.   It is there that the wait begins. This pause in production allows the wine to be removed from all other influences besides the barrel itself, causing the flavors from the wood of the barrel to be infused into the wine. ...That was it! I could actually taste the flavor of new wood on the wine I was tasting.  It was fresh, dynamic and wonderfully unique. 

           But let's go back to the idea of barreling... In this stage of the soul journey, like wine in a sealed barrel, I felt somewhat removed from many surrounding influences.  As if I was in the story, but watching it from a distance. I wanted to break through into various conversations and social settings but just couldn’t.  It felt more fitting to connect in smaller, more intimate ways but even then, the sense of being "known and understood" was rare; as was my ability to be fully present with others. God had introduced a grand "wait" and it was a strange abyss - so quiet and still. I no longer wanted false-fires.  There was a growing courage to let my “should/sensational-self” pass away and I felt indifferent toward things I once clung to for meaning.  It’s weird when what used to drive you goes away, because then, for a while, nothing drives you. The juices and sediment that had come from the recent crushing were purged for now and my “soul- juices” had been “barreled” allowing for my heart and mind to abandon itself to God's movement in the process...maybe that was the benefit of losing my drive and feeling so removed from others.

Indifference allowed for the questioning of sacred things and the dance of ambiguity.  In it, God initially seemed distant and silent but along the edges of this holy space I bumped up against His presence.  Old ideas that had formed broken images in my heart and mind were rewritten as they encountered God’s truth and love. His life infused itself ever-so-slowly into mine, like flavors of oak being drawn from the edges of a barrel.  This wait was changing me.  It wasn't one bit passive! Instead fiercely active.  Sue Monk Kidd likened her journey to that of a caterpillar and butterfly in her book When the Heart Waits.  In it, she states, “A creature can separate from an old way of existence, enter a time of metamorphosis, and emerge to a new level of life."

In this story, God, the wine-maker became the barrel as well; much like a caterpillar’s cocoon.  As we sit in dark-stillness with Him, He actively infuses our unfinished soul with the rich oak flavors of His love, joy, and peace. Those are the ingredients that make us fresh, dynamic, and wonderfully unique!  They are the things that make us real.  It takes a significant amount of time for wine to become aged and reach desired flavors.  It takes a long time for “soul-wine” too, but like that barrel, God surrounds us - even when we don’t know it.  Sometimes the path seems pointless as it becomes profoundly dark and God feels a chasm away. Yet, just when we think the darkness is too much, that's when we turn around and find that indeed, it isn’t darkness at all! …Instead, God has come so incredibly near that His hovering has cast it's shadow over us.  We are lost not in darkness... but held in His presence, which will one day bring forth incredible light!

So wait....Actively, wait.  Let the questions come and ambiguity rise.  God will surround you…He will infuse you with rich flavors of himself as you sit in the shadow of his accompaniment and emerge into a new level of life, the real-Christ-life intended for you will be found with all it's fullness and joy.

"Now glory be to God, who by his mighty power at work within us is able to do far more than we would ever dare to ask or even dream of—infinitely beyond our highest prayers, desires, thoughts, or hopes."  Eph. 3:20