If Thirst, Have Drink

What to say when I haven't said anything for over a month?

I feel guilty.  I feel ashamed. I feel embarrassed.

I also know that I have been attending to things that were, perhaps, more important than my blog.

God has put on my heart numerous times the fact that I have worshiped the online world. And I'm not talking about Facebook or some no-brainer web site...I'm talking about spending hours and hours reading amazing faith-filled blogs, connecting with amazing online sisters-in-Christ, researching faith-related questions, listening to Christian music, adding to my Guinness Book of World Records-Big-Christian library...

these are all good things, right?

"When one is thirsty one quenches one's thirst by drinking, not by reading books which treat of this condition" ~ Jean Pierre de Caussade

and Ann Voskamp, in "One Thousand Gifts," continues, saying,

If we are dying of thirst, passively reading books about water quenches little;

the only way to quench the parched mouth is to close the book

and dip the hand into water and bring it to the lips. 

If we thirst, we'll have to drink.

I would have to do something.

(p44)

It took a few times of being knocked on the side of the head for me to get it, but I was idolizing my desire to learn more - but not through spending time with God or reading Scripture, but by being the academic and reading those beautifully-written, what-I-term "Christian living" books and soaking up those authors' knowledge about the Christian life because...come on...I like to hear a woman a bit older than me telling me about her troubled past and how God redeemed it. 

We like success stories.

We like stories in which we can relate.

And yet...

Mary is a success story. Paul, too, don't you think? A nobody becoming a Somebody. In fact...isn't that what God's Kingdom is all about? It is our world that is so upside-down. God yearns to make us nobodies into Somebodies. 

So many people in the Bible struggled. I can relate to so many of them - they were all sinners, just like me. Why wasn't I reading the Bible for the relateable stories?

I feel God silenced me in some ways. Every time I wanted to write a blog entry, something interfered - a child needing something, Husband needing something, work, other hobbies, whatever it was, something in the past month always got in the way of me sitting down here and writing. 

I realized, after years of grumpy and sometimes anger-exploding-mornings, that I need to sit and pray before I start the day. 

I realized, after hearing the message over and over from different sources, unknown to the other, that I needed to seek God's wisdom about important things going on in my life...

and I needed to take a break from the internet. I needed to take a break from my Christian blog-perusing, even my own blog-writing. 

Then came the day (ironically, after a Christmas gift card was used on Amazon to buy fabulous Christian books) when I felt God say to me to put down every single book except for the Bible for one week. 

And I did.

I'd like to say that an epiphany came and I spent time seeped in God's Word every day for hours and have notebooks and notebooks of journaling to show for it. I'd like to say that I feel that peace which surpasses all understanding. I'd at least like to say that I feel better. 

But I can't say that. Because I don't feel better. 

My health problems worsen, marriage strain still exists, chaotic children drama still occurs daily. 

And, what is worse than that, to me: I barely even got into God's Word this week. 

I did, however, put down all other books. 

It is taking a great deal of courage to type all this down. For so long I've wanted this blog to be a place of wisdom and safety. A place where people could come and read and feel comforted and possibly even ministered to (read the newer About Me). 

But, somehow, I got it in my ego-driven little head that I had to "write pretty." Oh, I could ask the hard questions all right. And I often do ask the hard questions. But I knew that was a good thing to do. We should all be asking the hard questions, right?

But when it came down to doing the hard thing...

what was it I learned that weekend away?...

the real meaning of eucharisteo....

and I stumbled upon, while link-jumping, this old blog entry of mine...

which just about blew my mind...

and I realized that I wasn't doing what I wrote about. I was doing a lot of reading, thinking, writing, talking...but I wasn't doing. 

I wasn't obeying; I wasn't truly listening for God's wisdom; I wasn't truly sitting in God's Presence. 

I only truly wrote about it.

So as I sit here now, I feel a bit better about my blog objectives. I know I can't just write pretty anymore. If I am going to be any kind of friend, much less a mentor or disciple, I have to get down on my hands and knees and get honest with God. 

God, I am sorry that I have walked the walk but did not fully engage the way You want. I am sorry that I made other things into idols: internet, books, music, church activities. Yes, even these very "godly" things can become dangerous idols if depended upon too much. And so, Lord, I seek Your forgiveness and ask for Your wisdom and guidance as I step into the knowledge that I need to read Your Word more. I ask for Your blessing and help in fighting off the enemy - both my own apathy and the real enemy that seeks to kill and destroy. I ask You to direct my footsteps, now and always. Amen.

And so, with some heart-pounding, I joined Ann Voskamp's community over at ScriptureTyper. 

It is called "The Romans Project"  and you can click that link as well as this one from Ann's blog describing why she decided to do this. And you can also click on the badge to the right and be connected to the community to which I have made myself accountable. I just signed up and perused it. I am overwhelmed. 

I used to be so good at memorization, but in early college I had a dreadful, traumatic experience in my theatre class and because of that mess (which included my brain blanking on the script during a testing performance) I walked away from the stage and from any and all confidence in my memorization ability. So I came to this project with clammy hands, afraid to fail myself...but more afraid to fail God. 

But in my stumbling and falling, lately and always, I do know that God would rather me try and fail than not try at all. He'd rather me try to dig into His Word than keep that Bible closed. And who knows...if I stop leaning on my own understanding...who knows what things I could accomplish?

So I invite you. You who are flawed and messy. You who spend too much time watching mindless television because you feel too depressed to get off the couch. You who are a closet-theologian and think that you know just about all you need to know. You who doubt your own ability to get anything right. I invite all of you. Let's take this challenge to memorize God's Word. It is one of the most important things we can do. 

Ann Voskamp writes, 

"God gives us time. And who has time for God?" (p64, "One Thousand Gifts")

Let's make time for God. I think it is the one habit He would have us do. Don't you?

What You Find When You Peel Back the Tree

Copyright (c) <a href='http://www.123rf.com'>123RF Stock Photos</a>

The past two Christmases I've written excitably about the season, feeling inspired and touched by the meaning, the reality of it all.

The past two Christmases are the first two that I've truly known Christ.

This Christmas? There are more unexplained tears and more family-tension. More little problems and more big crises. There is more nagging and more needing-to-go-for-a-walk to get away from it all.

My blog has been quiet, waiting patiently for my return and I begin to think: who is the author - is it me? What is this blog? Who reads it?

The normal writer-doubts fill my head and tell me that I'm not good enough, that I don't write well enough. I hear the lie that I should just return to angst-ridden poetry instead of faith-filled personal writing because that, at least, got me ....

say it. Say it.

Attention. Accolades.

Shiny ornaments on my tree of success.

Oh, but I think about what I've learned in the past 2 years about God's upside-down Kingdom and I re-read what I just wrote.

The angst-ridden poetry may have gotten published widely and a few awards here and there...but the truly fulfilling writing did not come until I started this blog, until I started writing for my church newsletter, writing more intimately in my prayer journal and my regular journal, when I began my gratitude journal.

When I began the dialogue with God I became the writer I wanted to be.

Maybe not the writer that would get me accolades and awards. But the writer I know I was meant to be.

The angsty poetry had its place back then. But I am a new creation and I cannot nor should I discount the transformation within done by God.

So who is the author of this blog?

My dear friend, Michele, says on her blog that "Life's Author is God."

And I want that desperately. I want to surrender so much - all of myself - to God so that He is truly the Author of my everything.

I want God to be the author of this blog and I the mere vehicle.

I look at the metaphorical tree I have set up in front of me. I notice the ornaments are those of ingratitude, complaint, grief, sadness, depression.

I fight all those things on a daily basis, but this season has been especially hard. I read so much inspiration on my favorite blogs and I then play the comparison game. Why can't I do that? Write that? Feel that? Be that?

I don't want to feel this much grief for my mother, six years gone. Why am I feeling it so much more now?

I don't want to get this crabby on a daily morning basis.

I come home after my 40 minute drive and I am ready to go, having put the Armor of God from Ephesians 6 on, prayed in the car, told God I was ready to face the evening. And then to walk through the door to some crisis. It feels like it's every day. It just might be every day.

And in all of it - (I took a weekend break a few weeks back and learned this -) I know to give thanks.

Practice Eucharisteo. Practice giving thanks during the hard times.

So maybe this Christmas, for me, won't have the jolliness past ones have had. It isn't seeped in my mother's apple cider. It doesn't sing with Barbra Streisand's unique rendition of "Jingle Bells." We haven't done a family picture this year and I haven't sent out Christmas cards (how strange) because we've just been trying to survive.

Maybe this Christmas is more about what I learned that weekend I went away to be with God. Maybe it is about giving the hard thanks.

Maybe this Christmas I will peel the leafy evergreen branches back and reveal the bare tree underneath. It isn't about presents for me this year. It's about His Presence.

Not the decorated evergreen tree

but the bare tree that became a cross where Jesus gave His life for me

picture from http://www.dayspring.com/tree_to_cross_3_christmas_ornament/

and through tears (maybe explained, maybe unexplained) and heart-pains I give the hard thanks. I turn my head up and, amidst the frightening teenage choices and the whiny kindergartener and the starting-to-get-moody-tween and the marriage bumps and doctors' shrugs, I give thanks.

I give thanks to You, Lord. I give thanks because You deserve it and so much more. I give thanks because I am thankful that I know how to give thanks. For that is truly what saves me every time, in my deepest and loneliest and scariest times: counting Your gifts. I lived so much of my life feeling lost, Lord. This Christmas, I thank you for leading me, stone by stone, footprint by footprint, year by year, to You. I am choked up when I think about how You have saved me. How You sent Jesus down as a baby born in a dirty, filthy feed trough instead of a regal chamber.  I am amazed at how You, this baby grown into God-Man, have pursued me - me! - all of my life, and still do! How you ask me to sit at Your feet. This girl who looked in the mirror and hated herself. Who saw dirt and filth. You ask me to see what You see, Lord. You are the Savior I always knew I wanted but never could understand until now. And not only do I want you, but I need You, Lord. Jesus, I need You.

It feels odd to be writing so nakedly about myself now - here - at Christmastime when I feel I ought to be writing about Jesus and His birth and the Gospels. I wrote my first year of blogging here about Joseph being a great example of a stepparent and I shared different music videos contemplating the amazing situation Mary found herself in. And an interesting blog entry from December, 2011, about the yoke Jesus asks us to take on and about Christmas expectations.

Is this December, almost-Christmas, blog entry appropriate reading for this season?

I can't answer that right now. Somehow, though, I know God works through my heart and into my fingertips. Somehow, He can write me out of this confusion.

From a bare cross, God folds out my branches until, in Him, I am a beautiful tree, ever-green with glory as I shine with all He will do through me.

I hope to write again before Christmas. I can't promise, but I will try. Until then, may you keep your eyes on Jesus this season.

And does any peeling need to happen in your life? Certainly an interesting notion...

Now, if you'd like, sit back and listen to a beautiful song I just discovered:
"Becoming" by Christine Dente

Blessings be yours...

The Realization of the Noisy Fridge

Seeped into a necessary God-sabbatical this weekend, I sit here in the quiet of a noisy refrigerator. That has been the only thing that has disturbed the past 24 hours' quiet and contemplation. I have never known 24 hours to go by with quiet, peace, reflection only disturbed by a buzzing refrigerator.

And because I rather like the lack of static right now, I am doing what I've wanted to do for years:

take a break. 

I took a break in the real world this weekend and now I'm taking a break from the online world this next week. I will not blog, facebook or twitter from tomorrow (Sunday) until the following Sunday. Due to work and other necessary obligations, I will be checking email.

I do this out of obedience to God's call to be present for my family and my own desire to have more presence for my family. 

Often, having more presence in the real world means having less presence on-line.

That is something I've been railing against, not wanting to accept in my heart, for a long time. 

But too much has happened in the past 24 hours to have me continue railing against that truth, against God's calling me to rest and find joy in the home. 

So while the writer/sharer-part of me yearns to blog pages and pages about everything God has placed on my heart this weekend and all the incredible blessings and nervous nail-biting that have resulted in deciding to take and live Ann's dare...

I'm going to leave it at that and say:

Blessings upon your next week. May you listen to the whispering in your own spirit and heed it. May you hold your loved ones close. May new wounds heal and old ones fade. 

I would love to leave you with this blog entry from my dear blogger-friend, Michele-Lyn over at A Life Surrendered.com. It talks about margins and the need for space, the need to breathe. 

Until next Sunday, the 9th...

Sighing a long, deep Amen...

* Picture most definitely and proudly taken from Ann Voskamp's blog, A Holy Experience and in prayerful hope that it is suitable to share with you, for it does relate so very much.  

To Live a Thank You: Five Minute Fridays

It's Friday!
That means I've listened for the word that Lisa-Jo calls out and I'm writing, unedited and unbridled, for five minutes straight about that word.

Today's word is

THANK YOU.

GO....
****************************

I never had problems saying "thank you" as a child. My father and stepmother tell me now, as I call them and groan about the sense of entitlement and ingratitude in today's generation (particularly under my roof), that I probably said "thank you" a little too much. Can one do that?

I guess if it is born out of guilt. And I guess I felt guilty for getting things. Why? Did I not think I deserved them?

Was it about wanting approval and saying the "right thing?"

"Thank you" makes adults happy. It makes parents beam and say to themselves, "how nice my children look to others."

And when they don't say "thank you," parents might think, "how awful; I'm so embarrassed."

Has "thank you" become a measurement of how good we are as parents?

What if "thank you" became, to our kids, a measurement of how good we were doing as role models?

Ouch.

Husband and I are on the kids a lot about saying their "please" and "thank you"s.

And we try to say our "thank you"s as well. But how do we live the "thank you?"

Wouldn't that be...gratitude?

Oh, how circular it is. "You're welcome" is gratitude modeled to those who need to know what "thank you" looks like.

And my sometimes-ungrateful, entitled kids? If I model grace instead of react with sighed anger when they don't say "thank you," wouldn't grace feel better...and teach better? Wouldn't my consistent modeling of gratitude, even in the midst of ingratitude be the way to go?

I know I get so angry at the kids for being ungrateful because I am ashamed of my own ingratitude.

And so it is a circle.


STOP.
***************************

Smiling as this Friday's word is so fitting both because of Thanksgiving, but also because of what I received in the mail today:

One Thousand Gifts Devotional by Ann Voskamp

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. 

Reorientating

Watching this interview with favorite author, Ann Voskamp (an hour long - so worth it!)

Staying up too late soaking in the fresh breeze we are now able to feel through the screen doors which we've opened now that the heat has subsided.

I have the honor of assisting ministering at tomorrow's church service. This feeds an insatiable craving to serve on a larger level...

...and yet God still brings my gaze back to my husband and stepchildren and reminds me of my call to serve them first and foremost.

Thinking of the Sovereignty of God:

http://www.theopedia.com/Sovereignty_of_God
which, to me, means the Why's and praying for His Because's...which sometimes rest in silences

realizing, like Ann Voskamp said in her interview, my default is fear.

How I want to do all of this just right. I want to be a good wife, stepmother (I am a mother, in all practical ways), and mostly, a good and faithful child of God.

I care about and invest myself in helping the poor.

But do I show my dependence on Him for that which I lack here in my life?

At bedtime, I tell my 8 year old that God loves and takes care of her, but do I let my fear control me so that I am not showing that I believe and trust God to love and take care of me?

"I'm stumbling through it," Ann says. "It's not my default to get this right. My default is...I am fallen. And how do I intentionally reorient to the Cross, to Christ, and to Gospel again?"

So tonight, as I stumble over rocks which trip me up, rocks of my past, rocks of pain and heartache; tonight I cling to the Rock that is my Salvation and my Hope.

I pray that you are having a blessed and peaceful weekend, wherever you are.

And I am so grateful that we don't get it right all the time.

Because sometimes the sweetest thing is to be lovingly reorientated back to what matters most.

God lifts my head to Him. May He lift yours as well and bid you goodnight.