My latest post at the Living a Life of Faith blog.
Archives For Tuesday, November 30, 1999
Beautiful words were spoken by my pastor during worship yesterday. His Christmas message series is titled “Responding to the Voice of God” and yesterday’s message was from Luke’s Gospel, recounting Mary’s praise that we refer to as The Magnificat. In it, Mary pours out these beautiful words to her cousin Elizabeth to explain how she is handling the miracle of God’s choosing her—a young virgin girl—to carry the Savior in her womb:
“My soul exalts the Lord, and my spirit has rejoiced in God my Savior. For He has had regard for the humble state of His bondslave; for behold, from this time on all generations will count me blessed. For the Mighty One has done great things for me; and holy is His name. And His mercy is upon generation after generation toward those who fear Him. He has done mighty deeds with His arm; He has scattered those who were proud in the thoughts of their heart. He has brought down rulers from their thrones, and has exalted those who were humble. He has filled the hungry with good things; and sent away the rich empty-handed. He has given help to Israel His servant, in remembrance of His mercy, as He spoke to our fathers, to Abraham and his descendants forever.” (Luke 1:46–55, NASB)
As my pastor spoke from this passage, he noted that Mary describes the greatness of God and His response to two sorts of people, the humble and the proud:
God has mercy for those who fear Him. He exalts the humble. He fills the hungry with good things.
But God scatters those who are proud in the thoughts of their heart. He brings down the rulers. He sends away the rich empty-handed.
As I pondered my pastor’s message this morning, his plea for us to soften our hearts toward God was echoing in my ears. The state of the heart matters greatly. It is the difference between mercy and discipline, exaltation and demotion, receiving good things and receiving nothing.
Mary’s heart was soft toward God—she revered Him and chose to trust Him, even when He turned her life upside-down. And so must we, when our lives take a turn we didn’t anticipate or request. How we respond to life, how we process the twists and turns matters because this will serve to soften us or harden us.
Soft hearts continue to fear Him when life goes crazy. Soft hearts wait for Him to exalt and redeem. Soft hearts trust in Him to satisfy the hungry growls of the soul with good things.
Years after Mary spoke these words of praise, her Son Jesus confirmed them in a sermon:
“Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy” (Matt. 5:7).
“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (Matt. 5:3).
“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied” (Matt. 5:6).
Hearts that are soft toward God, waiting for Him, trusting in Him, will surely be blessed. That’s what I want most this Christmas, for myself and for everyone I care about.
As Mike and I prepped a menu for this year’s Thanksgiving feast, we wanted to take our traditional dishes and shake them up a bit. Instead of the typical corn casserole, we’re making a chipotle-cheddar variant; sweet potato souffle will be traded in for twice baked sweet potatoes; green bean casserole is being switched out to a swiss cheese version (thanks to my sister-in-law).
It’s change. It’s only food, I know—but it’s change. When I think about the fun of sampling these new recipes, I get excited . . . but my heart is also tugged back to tradition, back to the warm familiarity of what those typical dishes represent. I find myself using such traditions as anchors for a life that is ever shifting. Traditional meals (as well as visitors, conversations, stories, and activities) build a framework upon which my memories can be hung. I know where to find them, how to categorize them, what to expect—everything is in place. The year may change, but the rest is constant, and somehow in the middle of that I find solace when I feel like life is unpredictable.
Change is both a blessing and curse. Change signals a shift for the better or the worse, for life or for death. We experience both sorts, whether we like it or not. And because I’m pain averse, I can paint change as the bad guy. Sometimes I want to shrug off the good along with the bad as a manner of self-protection. I want change to stay away from me (and my traditions and my Thanksgiving dishes, thank you very much). But then, even this very morning, I read A. W. Tozer’s commentary on change in The Knowledge of the Holy, and it reminds me that change is not always bad:
“[As] much as we may deplore the lack of stability in all earthly things, in a fallen world such as this the very ability to change is a golden treasure, a gift from God of such fabulous worth as to call for constant thanksgiving. For human beings the whole possibility of redemption lies in their ability to change. To move across from one sort of person to another is the essence of repentance: the liar becomes truthful, the thief honest, the lewd pure, the proud humble. The whole moral texture of the life is altered. The thoughts, the desires, the affections are transformed, and the man is no longer what he had been before. So radical is this change that the apostle calls the man that used to be ‘the old man’ and the man that now is ‘the new man, which is renewed in knowledge after the image of him that created him.’ “
Without the possibility of change, I would be stuck. Change is the way to hope and life, and with out it, I would have no chance of discarding my old self. I would have no chance of becoming truthful, honest, pure, humble. In Christ, change is possible and even good.
For that I am truly thankful.
Although this does not make me want to welcome change unilaterally, I am at least willing to entertain the notion that it’s not all bad. It’s a start.
For some time now I’ve been working on a writing project about a condition I call comfort addiction. We are all prone to it, for deep within, we all face an ache—whether we can name it or not.
Our soul-aches push us to seek soothing. We sample ointments of success and belonging and power and pride and judgment. We try them one at a time; we make our own concoctions and mix them together, but to no avail. Comfort eludes us.
Like a snake oil peddler, Comfort keeps coming around, spilling a carefully crafted pitch, calling us to try again—try the latest and greatest elixir that’s sure to ease the pain. But it’s all for naught, for our aches are never healed with such fleeting treatments.
You might think the trouble is that we long for comfort. Maybe if we resolved to quit wanting comfort—help, soothing, relief, and so on—then we would forget about the ache.
That hasn’t worked for me. My futile attempts to obtain comfort have led me to seek God, and the more I seek, the more I find that comfort is a major theme of the grand narrative that God has been telling throughout history.
One of my favorite passages about true comfort is in Isaiah 40, and yesterday my pastor spoke about that chapter, reminding me once again of God’s heart toward us comfort addicts:
“Comfort, oh comfort my people,” says your God. “Speak softly and tenderly to Jerusalem, but also make it very clear that she has served her sentence, that her sin is taken care of—forgiven! She’s been punished enough and more than enough, and now it’s over and done with.”
According to this, we ache inside when we aren’t clear that our sins are taken care of, when we aren’t sure of forgiveness. True comfort eludes us because we’ve been using substitutes, mere topical treatments that only mask the pain rather than healing the root of it.
I loved the points my pastor made about Jesus being the Good News—the Gospel:
1. The Good News is comfort after pain (Isa. 40:1–5).
2. The Good News is that God shows up to clean up our mess (Isa. 40:6–11).
3. The Good News is the incomparable greatness of God (Isa. 40:12–26).
4. The Good News is that jaded skepticism is overruled—God visits us (Isa. 40:27–31).
The Good News is that God offers true comfort in answer to our brokenness, that He cleans up the mess in our hearts so we see His greatness and know His nearness.
God is no comfort peddler. He offers the real deal—real freedom from the sin that weighs us down from the inside. This is the Good News: Jesus is the balm for our souls.
Over the summer, while reading Jon Acuff’s Start: Punch Fear in the Face, I started a fear journal. This is not about my fear of bugs or missing commas. No, it’s specifically cataloging my fears about my writing life. I’ve found it helpful to write down the crazy to get it tamed by truth.
And here on Day 3 of the 21-Day Momentum Challenge, my fear journal came in handy. We are to answer this doozie of a question: What’s the one thing you’re most afraid of when it comes to giving your gifts to the world?
As I reviewed my fear journal entries and followed the steps in the Resistance Destroyer, all my fears boiled down to one thing: Rejection.
- What if I finish my book and offer it to the world and they hate it?
- What if people read it and ridicule my work, my thoughts, my words—my very heart?
- What if I mess it up?
In my fear-bound brain, rejection equals being alone. I don’t mean being alone physically—as an introvert, alone time is essential for my well-being. Rather, I fear a crumbling of relationships and support that give me a sense of belonging. The fear of rejection is working hard to protect me from my worst-case-scenario. In the process, it is limiting me from the potential of my best-case-scenario—or even my better-than-expected-case-scenario.
Working through this challenge was tough. Sort of like writer’s therapy. There were tears. Anxiety flooded my heart as I considered potential rejection. I had to name my worst fear and face it down, give it a punch.
After the fight, a slight glimmer of hope emerged that I want to stoke into flame. Cognitively, I know that even if the world hates my offering and discounts me:
- God will never leave me or forsake me (Deut. 31:6); God will not forget me (Isa. 49:15); and God is for me (Rom. 8:31)
- the love of my husband, family, and dear friends will not fade
I just need to know that I know, if you know what I mean. And I think that’s something only Jesus, the true Resistance Destroyer, could accomplish. He lovingly conquers my fears and sets my feet upon the solid ground of His unshakable love.
I wish I could say that my gift-limiting thoughts have been put to death. But fear is pesky. I will have to punch it in the face every time it rears its ugly head. Seventy times seven times, if need be.
It’s Day 2 of the 21-Day Momentum Challenge—an e-newsletter challenge I’ve joined as a commitment to pushing my Comfort Detox Project forward. The homework for Day 2 is to write a manifesto for your project. And . . . cue the hives. Although I am merely typing the words, I may as well be etching them in stone. With each letter key I press, my heart hears the plink-plink-plink of metal against rock. Writing a manifesto feels so big, so real, so weighty. gulp.
I’ve decided I just need to plug my ears and chip away. So this is my manifesto, my beacon to guide me through the foggy stretches when moving forward feels too scary and comfort’s siren cry grows loud in my ear.
__________
My Comfort Detox Manifesto
By God’s grace and power, I will finish my first book, Comfort Detox: Kicking the Comfort Habit to Meet a World of Need. It will cost me: Sleep. Energy. Fear. Time. Nerves. Tears. Courage. But the alternative is to retreat into my comfort zone where nothing is required of me. And that breaks my heart.
By God’s grace and power, women who hear my musings will be inspired to kick their own comfort habit to be agent of comfort to meet a world of need by:
- breaking free from self-imposed borders of ease, safety, or convenience and instead seeking to live a brave life
- refusing to self-numb as a buffer from very real pain in life and instead seeking to comfort suffering hearts
- rejecting the vanity of building a self-centered life and instead seeking to be an agent of comfort to the world
I will pay the price for my sisters because freedom is worth it. God has granted me a taste, and I want a larger helping, both for myself and for the women around me. For too long I have lived life on comfort mode, making choices for my daily engagement level based on safety, ease, and convenience. It has left me very little wiggle room, just a small parcel of real estate upon which to live, move, and have my being.
It’s not quite the abundant life Jesus was offering.
Living for comfort has ruled me for far too long. God’s severe mercy is breaking me from comfort’s grip. When I explain the journey I am on to other women, they agree—comfort is an addiction for us all. A detox is needed if we are going to live for something more grand.
This work is important to me because that grand something we are called to live for is the glory of God. Comfort is smothering it, and I want God to receive all the glory He deserves. I wake up each day because God has given me His life-breath, one more day to praise Him with the gifts He’s given me. I find strength to get out of bed because Jesus is taking me on adventure each day, freeing me more and more from comfort’s grip. I get up because my story is not done yet, and I have a tale to tell.
For a woman who keeps her head in the clouds, I sure have a hard time keeping my eyes fixed on my dreams. I could blame the clouds that obstruct my view or the thin air that impairs my thinking—that’s poetic and all, but metaphors like these only describe the issue; they don’t solve it.
I need my dreams nailed down in plain view if I’m going to remember what I hope my days will add up to. So when a friend of mine mentioned she had recorded all her hopes and fears and interests and passions—and called it her Dream Map—I was all in. I took the idea to my Lodge Ladies, and they were all in. (How I love these gals.)
We took several weeks of praying and processing and then several Lodge Meetings to discuss what we wanted to include on our own Dream Maps. Then we each got creative in finding a way to represent our dreams. I needed something that would be visible at my desk—because, as I said, I’m prone to forget. I am not super crafty or artistically creative; and I don’t have a lot of supplies, so whatever I did would have to be purchased. I wandered the crafts stores a few times before pulling together an idea that would be full of words (love!) and echo my love for India (double love!). Here’s how it turned out:
The joy this canvas brings me is immense. The mehndi-inspired design, the way the words and phrases fall, the meaning behind each saying—it’s perfect. (But if marker could be erased, I would redo a few elements. Alas, it’s perfect despite the imperfections.)
Every time I get bogged down in the daily tasks of life, I need only look to my Dream Map. It reminds me that crafting a newsletter article for As Our Own is really an opportunity to free captives . . . editing a manuscript is another way of proclaiming the Gospel . . . and wrestling out another 600 words of my manuscript is how I become dangerous for the Kingdom.
Have you ever completed such a Dream Map? I’d love to hear all about it—and see it! Here’s to dreaming Kingdom-sized dreams.
OK, I confess: I’ve gone crafty. But it’s for a good cause! My friend Angel is an artist, and she is developing a community art project called The Blessing Tree. She’s inviting Christ-followers to create a leaf to add to this tree for her November show, and I wanted to make a leaf to add to the mix. You should make one too! Get your creative juices flowing and read to the end to learn about contributing to The Blessing Tree.
Now, I have minimal art supplies here, so I worked with what I had: paper and some felted letters. I’m no artist, but this is what I was pondering and praying about as I made my leaf.
*****
In the beginning, there was a tree that gave life. Adam and Eve freely ate of its fruit and benefited from its offering. There were other trees too—for food, for shade, for beauty . . . and one that was off limits. That tree was the boundary line, the marker that designate God’s rightful place to determine what should be and what shouldn’t. Adam and Eve’s desire grew for that one tree with its forbidden fruit. They ate of it, and it was death.
*****
In ages past, there was a tree that was growing tall and strong, giving shade, beauty, perhaps even food. But it was tagged and chopped down, its life cut short. The tree’s now-dying wood was needed to hold the life of a Man. He would be nailed to that dead tree, hung there to suffer for the death that sin wove into the world—dying Man on dead wood for a dead people in a dead world.
*****
In eternity, there will be a tree that gives life. Every month this tree will bear another crop of fruit, and its leaves will bring healing to the nations. It will grow along the banks of a mighty river that will flow from a glorious throne. The Man who once died on a dead tree will sit there, alive, giving light to everyone. We will eat of it, and it will be life.
*****
Until eternity, I look up at the trees in this fallen world. A faint echo of the first trees reaches my ears—the trees that gave life and food and shade and beauty. Remember the beauty that God intended, they whisper. Yes, God meant for this world to provide for His creatures.
But the trees I see also echo the second tree, the one that died to bear a dying Man. Leaves fall, branches go barren, limbs snap, bark sloughs off, disease hits. So it is with humans, for we have all eaten of the forbidden fruit trying to determine what should and shouldn’t be.
And so I hope in the promise for the third tree, the tree that is already growing in eternity, waiting for time to catch up to it. One day, we will see this tree, in all its glory. We will taste its sweet fruit, we will be healed by its leaves, we will bask in its beauty, we will play under its branches—for death will be no more.
And it will be pure joy.
*****
Leaves can be made out of any material (fabric, felt, beads, paper, cloth, etc.)—just keep them approximately 4” x 6” in size. Pray a blessing over them, for all who will see them at the show. Then send your leaf to her as soon as you can so she has time to attach them before the show. Read more at the event page.
How I love to get books in the mail!
After being away for two months this summer, we had quite the mail stack to sort through. Most of it was typical—bills, newsletters, magazines, and the like. But then there was this from Moody Publishers*, containing Confessions of a Boy-Crazy Girl by Paula Hendricks. So fun!!
Paula and I met a few years ago—she works for Revive Our Hearts/True Woman, an organization I’ve done some writing for. It’s been great to hear her first-book highs and lows over the past year! Seeing this book in print made me smile, not only because of the delightful design but also because I know how much Paula poured into it.
Upon reading it, I am even more impressed by Paula’s heart. She is candid and forthright, giving her heart for the good of many. Excerpts from her journals mark each chapter, inviting us to know her inner-life. If I still had my journals from way-back-when, I do believe the words would match! Oddly, some of her references DO match references I have in my writing project . . . which is not for boy-crazy girls—whew!—but rather for comfort-addicted gals. Perhaps, great minds think alike? Or we at least read the same books . . .
Anyhow, Paula’s book is about dating and boys, but it isn’t only about dating and boys. It’s also about something Paula dubs soul neediness—something we all have, no matter our age or relational status in life. With gentle precision, Paula cuts through the ways we seek to get our deepest soul needs met apart from Christ. She has achieved that tricky balance of being engaging while being deep theologically, leading the reader through journal application exercises that touch on:
- yielding to Jesus
- seeking God as our perfect Father
- learning to protect your own heart
- taming your thought life
- obsessing over fairy tales
Although I did not work through the exercises, I found them to be the sort I would want to ponder and discuss if I were leading a group of gals through the material. The structure and application questions would make this perfect for a small group.
In short, I thoroughly enjoyed this book. Paula is an engaging writer—I could hear her voice in every line and it read like a conversation with a dear friend sharing her heartache and triumphs. But even more so, this is a dear friend sharing how she has seen God’s loving hand in her love life.
Learn more about Paula here, and get a copy of her book for all the young gals in your life . . . the young and the young at heart!
*Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from Moody Publishers. While it was sent to me without charge, there was no obligation for me to write a review nor did I receive compensation for doing so. I just really like Paula and loved her first book!
Let’s be honest: Life can be plain crazy. We do our best to navigate relationships and responsibilities, deadlines and errands, moving and sleeping, trying to stay healthy and hopeful in the middle of it all. And the thing is, we don’t know what’s coming, what our days will hold, what part of all that is going to go wonky at which moment. Even after the wonkiness settles, I can usually make sense out of it about 10 percent of the time. Maybe.
My inability to understand the whys and hows of life press me to find reason and hope beyond the madness I see in me, in life, and in the world. Knowing that my story and the stories of those I love are part of a grand narrative, one that is being written day after day, gives me cause to rest and hope and love and keep on.
I want to understand this grand narrative and its author more and more. And I thought some of you gals might want to do the same? This is your invite to join me on Tuesdays for a seven-week study using The Story Guide (Primer Edition). It’s the latest resource developed by Spread Truth for knowing, living, and sharing God’s story, which is what makes my story worthwhile.
All are welcome for evenings of discussion, food, and fellowship. Let me know if you want to come! I would love to learn more with you about knowing, living, and sharing the God’s grand narrative.
The Story Guide Women’s Small Group
Tuesdays, 7:00–8:30 p.m., at my house
intro September 17 / first lesson September 24
book fee $15
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