The Waiting Game

It's Saturday, the day of waiting. Are you observing it?

I went to my church for my prayer vigil that I signed up for and I entered expecting to find the sanctuary how we had left it Friday night: black cloth draped over the cross where a crown of thorns laid around the vertical plank of wood. Black cloth draped over the altar and podium, all reminders to us of Jesus' earthly death. I expected to sit in the front pew and look upon this blackness and meditate on what it all meant - for me, for the world.

To my surprise, however, I entered the sanctuary and color exploded into my vision. There were lilies and all sorts of flowers all over the place! There were new cloths laid out: white, brightly and maternally-hand-stitched cloths.

Part of me felt disappointed that my first view of this celebration wasn't on the actual Easter morning, but how wonderful to walk into that quiet sanctuary, to be solitary and prayerful, and be greeted by such beauty. I knelt down at the front and gazed at the flowers. I looked at the candles and realized they weren't lit. That means something, I noted to myself. Perhaps the Light of Christ will be lit, to me, only on Easter morning. Right now, the flowers were displayed, but the candles were not lit.

Still the time of waiting.

And now, a word about our Good Friday service. It was so remarkable and full of awe and mystery.

The altar was stripped, Pastor and his wife dressed in black. We first sang, "Ah, Holy Jesus," which was a familiar hymn to me which I sang with much passion.



In that hymn, the line, "I crucified thee," hit me hard in the chest.

After the Old Testament reading, we sang "Beneath the Cross of Jesus:"



Then came the Nails of Passion. This was a new part of the Good Friday service to me. By the way, this service was a Good Friday Tenebrae (Darkness) Service. 

First - Nail of Betrayal. Verses from the Book of Matthew were read telling of Judas' betrayal and then a prayer said. Then two candles were extinguished and a nail driven into a piece of wood. The sound of the hammer against the nail was a harsh reminder of the truth and reality of two thousand years ago.

Second - The Nail of Denial. Again, Matthew verses were read, telling of Peter's denial. Again, two candles snuffed out and three hits the nail.

7 year old huddled close, knowing what was to happen (we had talked to the 12 and 7 year old earlier - the 4 year old was being babysat). I held her close as the nails drove into my mind.

Then we sang "O Sacred Head, Now Wounded:"



Third - The Nail of Jealousy
Matthew read, candles extinguished, nail driven.

Fourth - The Nail of Indifference
Told of Pontius Pilate's indifference toward Jesus. Candles out, nail driven.

Five - The Nail of Mockery
The crowds yelled and shouted, mocking Jesus. Candles out, nail driven. Lights are going out now, the room gets darker.

Six - The Nail of Ridicule
Scornful words said. Darkness. Final nail driven.

We sang the beautiful song, "Were You There," which has become a definite favorite of mine.


And 7 year old started recognizing the song a little and sang the part, "tremble....tremble...tremble"and hearing her little voice sing just broke my heart and lifted it right up into the heavens. Oh, my girl. My God-loving, God-asking, God-praying girl.

Then Pastor Matt and his wife each took turns reading Jesus' last words.

Pastor read, in a heart-wrenching voice, Eloi Eloi lama sabachthani? (Father, Father, why have you forsaken me?)
Tears fell. Heart opened. Wounds opened. I saw my wounds on his body.

Bells tolled.

The Christ candle was removed.

And we said the Lord's Prayer in darkness as rain poured heavy on the roof and left in silence.

Why is Good Friday called "Good?" We all asked this in the car on the way home.

On this Saturday, I wish you a Happy Holy Saturday, day of waiting, day of wondering and hoping.

We know now that Jesus rose again. Keep that hope strong throughout your life. He would want you to.


***********************
A repost from the archives. 

The Story Table: When All You Can Do is Lay There

[note: this took many days to write, so bare with me as it is now three or four days after this event]

I'm sprawled out on the operating table right now.

I have been split completely open by mess.

Things I have neglected kept building and building; my self-care had gone shamefully mismanaged and neglected. Things were not going well.

I am not saying things are perfect now, as I lie on the table. I mean, I see that God's hands are ready to mold me. Take me apart, squish me together again, reshape me, do all kinds of things.

I see that God is doing work in me.

And it's scary.

There have been nights - recent nights - where I have sobbed on the laundry room floor and cried out at God, not necessarily to Him - and said, "I don't want this call! I don't want to do what you want me to do."

I've gone to the brink of suffering and almost lost my footing and let myself be swallowed.

And today I was completely split open.

Thanks to a few trusted counselors and a friend, I'm gaining some perspective bit by bit. I'm realizing how I need to care for myself. I need to put my oxygen mask on before I can care for anybody.

And let me tell you - I've let my oxygen mask hang there like a tree ornament for years now.

Oh nevermind you, I'd say to myself. It's selfish to think of yourself.

(As God whispers His command: "love others as yourself")

Nevermind you, I've repeated for twenty-plus years. You aren't worth it.

But no more. I am not letting the enemy's lies dictate my worth. I will not rely on anyone but the Lord to tell me who I am.

So I have taken an R&R evening. I have had to force my mind not to dwell on whether she did all her homework or if that electric bill sitting on the counter is going to tip us into the red. I have had to walk away from a sink full of dishes.

This is not piously said.

I say this in shame because I had to force myself to say:

I am breaking. I need help. I need saving. If I don't change something now, I will be lost forever.

Lord, save me. Stop this. I am Yours.

So although the image of me on an operating table sounds completely helpless and vulnerable, I have complete confidence in the Almighty to make me into who He wants me to be.

Why am I sharing this with the blogosphere? And who, really, reads my blog, anyway?

Reading my dear internet-sister-in-Christ, Michele-Lyn's blog entry, "What is alifesurrendered.com?" I read many of my own mission statements.

I can't keep quiet. What happens inside this heart is important. Not because I am more important than anyone else, but because I know God is doing important things in me.

I am becoming stronger not by my own efforts, but because I lean on Christ to strengthen me (Philippians 4:13).

My life will be a testimony. It already is.

God will use my story to help others. He uses all of our stories if we let Him.

Our story is His story.

That is what I desire - for my story to reveal His story.

Great Physician, here I am on Your table. I want to be molded, changed. I know I am made new by my faith  (2 Corinthians 5:17) and I also know that I will continue to struggle (John 16:33) so I ask you that you humble me enough to listen to You always. I ask that you humble me so that I may carry out the immense calling that you have for me - to serve my family and model Your love. As much as my heart beats for Daniela in her village, for Compassion International, Food for the Hungry, WorldVision, Operation Baby Rescue, and so many wonderful organizations that help the needy...my mission field is my home. The needy children are my own stepchildren who God has placed in my life. And God placed me in their lives. It goes both ways.

And Lord, I'm sorry that I was getting so overwhelmed and upset and I wiggled and strained against Your guidance. Sometimes it is so hard, Lord. Sometimes, I admit, I don't want this call.

I admit it. I am human.

I heard on Susie Larson's "Live the Promise" show (yesterday? I forget) concerning God's calling, that, if your heart resists a bit when you hear God calling you to do something, then that usually means you know that is what you ought to do.

Why? Because it's probably hard. And we have a hard time with the hard stuff. 

Lord, I wrote a few days ago - bring it on.

And oh, you did.

You did so much that I found myself split open. I know you didn't cause this immense suffering these past weeks or months, but I know now that it needed to happen. I needed to be split open to see the light - Your light.

I needed to remember where I come from, Who I come from, where I must serve, and who I must serve.

I needed to remember who I am.

I am not anything or anyone defined by my childhood friends or current friends; I am not defined by roles placed on me by family. I am Yours, first.

I seek You, Lord. I seek to love others as I...

I am learning to love myself.

That is hard to type. I still hear echoes of ugly in my head.

But You ask me to love others as I love myself.

So...in order to love others perhaps I must dare to love myself.

Perhaps I must dare to let myself be split open and lay on that operating table and release my life into Your will.

And it says - your will is that I love myself.

And others.

And You.

Lord, help me love.

Help the ugly voices turn truthful.

Help the lies dissipate into steam on the mirror which quickly fades.

This I pray.

This I put out there in the blogosphere for Your glory and in hopes that someone might come along and read my story, Your story, and decide...

to love him/herself.

And to love others.

And to love You, Lord.

I chuckle as I look down at the necklace I wear every day. The abbreviated Bible verse has not felt personal until right now.

"Seek...to reflect Him"  2 Corinthians 

So Lord, I seek You and I lay upon the story table where You mold and move me. 

That's where the big stuff happens. That's where redemption is found. 

When You're in Denial about the Hard Stuff

free wallpaper from Proverbs 31 Ministries at http://www.proverbs31.org/freebies/

Oh God, I feel it. I feel the ache and the gnaw.

I have disappointed you.

You called me and I knew I was a chosen servant

Isaiah 42 (NIV)

The Servant of the Lord

“Here is my servant, whom I uphold,
    my chosen one in whom I delight;
I will put my Spirit on him,
    and he will bring justice to the nations.
He will not shout or cry out,
    or raise his voice in the streets.
A bruised reed he will not break,
    and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out.
In faithfulness he will bring forth justice;
     he will not falter or be discouraged
till he establishes justice on earth.
    In his teaching the islands will put their hope.”

This is what God the Lord says—
the Creator of the heavens, who stretches them out,
    who spreads out the earth with all that springs from it,
    who gives breath to its people,
    and life to those who walk on it:
 “I, the Lord, have called you in righteousness;
    I will take hold of your hand.
I will keep you and will make you
    to be a covenant for the people
    and a light for the Gentiles,
 to open eyes that are blind,
    to free captives from prison
    and to release from the dungeon those who sit in darkness.

 “I am the Lord; that is my name!
    I will not yield my glory to another
    or my praise to idols.
 See, the former things have taken place,
    and new things I declare;
before they spring into being
    I announce them to you.”

**********************************

So God, I say to You now...your servant has fallen. Not fallen at Your feet during the time of trail, as we are supposed to do, but my spirit has fallen. I gave up when I was not supposed to. I let the enemy win when I could have fought more. 

For that I am sorry. 

And yet I ponder Ann Voskamp's words from today's blog

"When did I start expecting successful Christian living to be smooth sailing instead of stepping out of the boat in the middle of a storm?"

Why am I continuously surprised when trials come my way? When children misbehave or, sometimes worse, make such poor decisions that you fear for them? When spouses fight and don't understand. When you yearn for the old life yet know very well that you are right where you are supposed to be, for "a time such as this" (Esther 4:14)?

Lord, I know better. I know that there will be suffering and trouble (John 16:33) and I even know what purpose that has. 

So why do I spin and spit and sob and rot? Why do I get caught up in the I-don't-want-to's and that's-not-fair's? Why do I question - no, argue - your plan for me?

Because...

it is hard.

And we humans don't like doing the hard stuff. 

And I dared to pray that dangerous prayer: Lord, bring it on. 

I knew what my call in this season of life was. It was not what I expected nor what I particularly wanted, but I said Lord, bring it on!

As though I was the karate student in my stepson's class when they get too tired and want to quit. The instructor has instructed them to yell out, "Bring it on, sir!"

And Sir, I did say to bring it on. 

And You did. 

So why am I surprised that life is a daily struggle and has been for a while?

I know you are doing a fantastic work in each of us, yet I still squirm and wiggle, moan and complain. 

I have to do this hard stuff. I can't give up nor ask my mother to sign a note to my gym teacher excusing me from doing the high-jump because I am too anxiety-plagued. 

It's time to do the hard stuff. 

So Lord, I am sorry that this heart is prone to wander, prone to leave the Father Almighty who I love so much. I am sorry I put humans' opinions above Your own. 

I am sorry for regressing. 

Head up and eyes toward Heaven, I am ready for the day which begins tomorrow. 

Nothing extraordinary planned, just another day. However, it is a day where I can start anew. 

That's the joy of You, Lord. I mess up on the hard stuff tonight, but I know you love and forgive me; I know you recognize my repentance and love for You. I mess up on the hard stuff tonight, but I know that you give me the new day tomorrow. 

Hard stuff will continue to rain down, this I know. 

Seal my heart, Lord. Seal it to Thy courts above. 

Waiting on Waiting: Thoughts on Advent

photo credit: © Adam Gryko - Fotolia.com


I am now a little over a year old, in Christ-terms. Meaning I have been walking with the Lord - all-in - for a little over a year. I still consider myself a baby-Christian, but I have done a lot of growing in the past year. And besides, I know of a Christ who was a baby once.

If there is one thing I know I still have a lot to learn about and lean towards it's the idea of instant gratification. Waiting. Waiting for exciting events, waiting for doomed ones; waiting for answers, waiting for results, waiting for responses, waiting for what my ego tells me I need to know and have.

And do you know what I need to be waiting for? The only thing I need to wait for?

The will of God to be done.

And do you know when a perfect time to do that is?

Advent.

And Advent it is. Now. I don't have to wait to wait. I can start my waiting now. But I'm not waiting for prayers to be answered, events, or responses. I am waiting for the celebration of Jesus' birth. I am waiting to celebrate. And in that waiting I celebrate.

I celebrate all the things that God has given me this past year that I either prayed for and received or prayed for and did not receive. For both are blessings of one sort or another. My ego cannot tell what is best for me, only the One born in the manger knows. Such a tiny creature knows how every twist and turn in my life will turn out. What a thing to behold!

God, thy will be done! I wait for Your working in my life. I wait for You. In this, my second season of Advent, where I am truly beginning to understand what waiting on You means, I wait for You to fill me with Your Holy Spirit so that I may do Your will.

Psalm 130:5-6 calls to me at this moment:

I wait for the LORD, my whole being waits,
   and in his word I put my hope.
I wait for the Lord
   more than watchmen wait for the morning,
   more than watchmen wait for the morning.

More than watchmen wait for the morning, O Lord. I wait for Your Son's birth from here on out and hope for a renewed spirit within me.

And I recall the devotional song we so often sing in church with lyrics by Keith Green:

Create in me a clean heart, oh God
And renew a right spirit within me
Create in me a clean heart, oh God
And renew a right spirit within me

Cast me not away from Thy presence, oh Lord
And take not Thy holy spirit from me
Restore unto me the joy of Thy salvation
And renew a right spirit within me

Lord, I will wait. I will wait for the answers, promises, questions...
I will wait for when it is Your time and not my own.
I will wait in this waiting season of Advent
and rejoice
as if I have received everything I could ever want
for You give
so lovingly
so overwhelmingly
that I most certainly do receive
everything
and more...


Blessings to you during this season of Advent. Experience the experience of waiting.
And perhaps...
right in the middle...
you will realize that He has been there
all along.


This blog entry was written in correlation with Charity Singleton over at Wide Open Spaces. See the Advent Writing Project here.

Hurrying through Not Hurrying: a Needful Listen

Hurry makes us hurt. Ann Voskamp, author of "One Thousand Gifts," wrote that in her book. I've talked about that book more than any other on this blog. Today, Ann was on my favorite radio program, "Live the Promise." Listen to it here. 

I felt inspired by the program to, indeed, slow down and savor the season. To bend low like the Wise Men, not climb that ladder high like American culture tells us to. I wanted to come home and

stop
sit
sing
sip

I wanted to

love
listen
lean

Instead, I walked into a house full of homework and rushing to get dinner made so this one could go to Confirmation class and then rushing and fretting because the youngest was having a meltdown over dinner and then rushing to get him calmed down enough to get the 2 younger ones to their Awana clubs.

And now I am rushing to write this blog entry because it is burning inside of me, this longing to slow down and yet I'm rushing, rushing, rushing to slow down. And yes, Heavenly Father, it is hurting.

I want to scream at myself - Haven't you learned anything? What did you listen to on the radio?

Or I just want to scream.

Husband is picking up the younger two from Awana which enables me to go to our church's 7:00 Midweek Advent Service. Ironically, that's why I'm rushing to get this blog entry done. So I can go to that. And once there? Will I rush, too? At church? Really?

Advent is about

waiting.

Waiting for the birth of Christ. Waiting for Grace. And as Ann says on the program, Grace is not just about doing good deeds so we get into Heaven. No, it's so much more than that.

To find out what Ann says, listen to that program. I want you to so very badly.
And then come back and tell me what you think of it. And remind me of what it says.

Because I think I'm going to need reminding.
A lot.

Bless you during the beginning of this Advent season, the season of waiting, of slowing down, of breathing in the breath of the child born in a tiny manger. He had so much to hurry toward, you would think. I would think. Saving people, saving the world. But He didn't hurry, did He.

No,
He didn't.