A dear friend once gave me a card that said “Never lose your sense of wonder.” Coming from her, this encouragement carries great weight for me; it becomes an inspiration because it reflects a life grounded in both reality and wonder. Though nearing retirement and a veteran of more than her fair share of life’s challenges, she’s never lost her curiosity and amazement with life and the Lord. I came to know her as my mentor and friend when I moved to the town where I began my first long-term teaching job. She taught high school, and helped me learn to do the same. Her contagious vivacity and wit, as well as natural way of connecting and empathizing with youth, make people assume she’s twenty years younger than she actually is. She always downplays her own role in this, claiming that teaching keeps us young. Indeed, I have found this to be true, but most especially so when we as teachers are willing to be affected by all those we teach. She’s ever-willing, and because she is, her life in turn, has profoundly affected those of the students she taught.
Though we no longer teach together, I still consider her my mentor. As a teacher and a person, she is a force as awesome and resilient as nature herself. There are powerful influences in her life that have often attempted to determine and shape her reality, but she has staunchly refused to acquiesce. Though at times her circumstances have seemed challenging, she faithfully cultivates joy one day at a time, continuously searches for reasons to laugh, walks determinedly in faith and not by sight, and pursues connections that pull her into spheres of positivity. I’ve known her almost ten years now, and in that time, she’s adopted me, welcoming me into her home and family as if I were a second daughter. When I became sick with a chronic illness, she cared for me. She has seen and understood me at the times where it seemed like few others could. She has refused to let me give up or give in to negativity, most effectively by her own example. Edith Wharton, the first woman to win the Pulitzer Prize for Literature, once said something that seems to purposefully describe my friend: “One can remain alive long past the usual date of expiration, if one is unafraid of change, happy in small ways, insatiable in intellectual curiosity, and interested in big things.” My wonderful friend has lived in such a way, and therefore, remains not just alive, but ALIVE. In other words, my friend lives out God’s granting of another’s request: “I do not ask to know the reason for it all; I ask only, to know the wonder of it all” (Heschel, Abraham). May we all be continually captivated by the wonder of it all.
Author: sparrowsong
Standing on the Promises…
I’ve said this liturgy of promises to myself over & over again, most often in times of great anxiety or distress. Almost fifteen years ago, in such a time, God reminded me that I could rest assured in any situation by claiming His Word. Psalm 94:19 says: “When anxiety was great within me, your consolation, O LORD, brought joy to my soul”. As I poured out my heart to Him that evening, it was as if He began to assure me of the unfailing promises I could always hold. I found myself listing them off on my fingers, finishing with exactly enough for two full handfuls. I call them my “Finger Promises”:
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- God is w/ me, & will always be with me. (Isaiah 41:10, 43:2; Zephaniah 3:17)
- God loves me, & will always love me. (Psalm 136, Jeremiah 31:3, Romans 8:35-38)
- God is at work in my life, & He will always be at work in my life. (Psalm 121:7, Philippians 1:4, II Corinthians 2:14)
- God is in control, & I am not, for He is God, & I am not. (Psalm 135:6, Romans 8:27)
- No matter how circumstances appear, He is always at work for my good & His glory. (Isaiah 48:9, Romans 8:28-32, II Corinthians 9:8)
- He desires to give me the desires of my heart. (Psalm 16:11, Psalm 37:4)
- He has plans to prosper me, & not to harm me, to give me a future & a hope. (Jer. 29:11, Lamentations 3:31-33)
- God will not allow me to be tempted beyond what I can bear, & always lends me His strength. (I Corinthians 10:13, II Corinthians 12:9)
- The Lord’s timing & plan for my life are perfect. (Psalm 138:8, Isaiah 46:10)
- His love for me is perfect. (Isaiah 49:15-16, Romans 8:32, Galatians 4:7, I John 3:1,16)
The mere fact that I’ve never struggled to remember this list, and that each promise seems as clear to me now as it was the night they were given, seems to me a sign that God Himself wrote them on my heart. As I’ve searched the Scripture since, I’ve found multiple verses to support every single one. They assure my heart in each and every situation I face. No matter what, I’ll be okay. He hasn’t forgotten me, He never will. His love will always sustain me. His hand will never stop shaping my life to His purposes. Because of these promises I can stand and say with confidence: “I am not afraid of storms, for I am learning to sail my ship” (Louisa May Alcott). Let us continually take His promises up in our hands and hold them close, let us stand upon them as a sure foundation. He is always enough to satisfy our souls and fill our lives to overflowing.
Irony of Christianity…
In the movie Becoming Jane, the character of Jane Austen offers a wonderful definition of irony: “…the bringing together of two contradictory truths, but always done with a smile”. As an author, Austen is most praised for her astute observations and understanding of human character. The ability to understand the complexity of human nature must take irony into account. It is an incontestable component of life. We all have some experience with navigating its paradoxes. Those of us who find happiness have learned to do it with a smile.
This definition of irony calls to mind many things for me, but foremost among them is Christianity. We are saved sinners; we’ve been made right with God, but live out our sanctification; God’s power is made perfect in our weakness (II Corinthians 12:9); we walk in faith, and yet by sight. The season of Advent is described as “the already, and the not yet”. Jesus, our Messiah, lived a life where He was fully human, yet fully divine. The apostle Paul described the irony of the Christian life in his second letter to the young Corinthian church: “…we are hard-pressed on every side, but not crushed, perplexed, but don’t despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed….having nothing, and yet, possessing everything” (II Corinthians 4:8-10). Paul cuts to the core of the irony of Christianity in that same letter: “We have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all surpassing power is from God, and not from us….Therefore we do not lose heart: Though outwards we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day” (II Corinthians 4:7, 16). The irony of Christianity is a God who continually offers Himself to fill the needs of humanity, through broken humanity itself.
Tenderness…
Anyone who listens to a music playlist of mine comments that I must be a “hopeless romantic”. Those who know me best would say that’s true, but in a different way than it might first appear. I never thought that mine would be a temperament satisfied with anything less than a tangible romantic love, but here I am, thirty-five and still single, and content. It’s only by the grace of God I can call myself a hopeFUL romantic. Since high school, I’ve prayed that God would turn all of the desires of that naturally hopeless romantic heart towards Him. He has answered my prayer, as He always does. When I hear a love song now, most often, my first thoughts are of Him. A great favorite is the song “Love Me, Tender”.
Though the word tenderness seems to have gone out of style with Elvis, it’s a wonderful word, and so perfect a description of the character of our Lord. Its synonyms include: kindness, kindliness, kindheartedness, tenderheartedness, compassion, care, concern, sympathy, humanity, warmth, fatherliness, motherliness, gentleness, benevolence, generosity. In Lamentations 3, the prophet Jeremiah states that the “tender mercies of the Lord” are new every morning. His is the only love that is merciful in every capacity, gentle in its every dealing, compassionate in its every gaze. The words of the song capture His unfailing love, the Love that can fulfill all our dreams, and take us into its heart, filling us with everlasting joy:
Love me tender, love me sweet, never let me go,
You have made my life complete and I love you so.
Love me tender, love me sweet, all my dreams fulfilled,
For my darling, I love you and I always will.
Love me tender, love me long, take me to your heart.
For it’s there that I belong and we’ll never part.
Love me tender, love me sweet, all my dreams fulfilled,
For my darling, I love you and I always will.
Love me tender, love me dear, tell me you are mine,
I’ll be yours through all the years till the end of time.
Love me tender, love me sweet, all my dreams fulfilled,
For my darling, I love you and I always will.
Surrendering to Rest …
I’ve been called particular and highly organized by some, “persnickety” by my father. My physical therapist once commented on how strongly my body seems to like the predictable. I once joked with a counselor about how my family and friends exaggerated these tendencies by terming them as “OCD: Obsessive Compulsive Disorder”. She asked me to describe them and then remarked that she didn’t think the term was an exaggeration at all. Though I was surprised, I shouldn’t be. I like my world in order, and attempt to control what I can. It seems I can take chaos in stride until my physical environment is disorganized, but if it is, at those times, those who know me best know to keep a safe distance. Though it has its advantages, it makes finding rest challenging: it plays out most when it’s the least productive thing for me to do, like when I’m tired. Despite my stubborn resistance, rest is a habit my body demands I learn; I’m learning to let go, or at least practicing.
I’ve definitely tried to be a marathon runner in this journey of life, pushed myself to complete exhaustion more times than I care to count. I’m learning, oh so slowly, to become a weightlifter instead. When I’m diligent and following God’s rhythms, I rest after I work, and then to re-apply myself once recharged. For better or for worse, I’m reliant on His strength every hour of every day. As a teenager, I once asked God to do whatever He had to in my life, to keep me dependent on Him. Apparently, He knew my stubborn heart would need a lot of shaping and refining. I definitely didn’t know what I was getting myself into with such a request, but still find myself grateful He faithfully granted its fulfillment. Though at times it’s been painful, it hasn’t been without great reward; I’m blessed that He has given me Himself. I rejoice to sing with Matt Maher, “Lord, I Need You”:
Lord, I come, I confess
Bowing here I find my rest
Without You I fall apart
You’re the One that guides my heart
Lord, I need You, oh, I need You
Every hour I need You
My one defense, my righteousness
Oh God, how I need You
Where sin runs deep Your grace is more
Where grace is found is where You are
And where You are, Lord, I am free
Holiness is Christ in me
I Shall Not Want…
I listened to a wonderful sermon about the classic Shepherd’s psalm, & the pastor (Chip Ingram) read the psalm differently than I had ever heard it, simply by emphasizing the personal pronouns present in almost every line.
“The Lord is MY shepherd; I shall not be in want. He makes ME lie down in green pastures; He leads ME beside still waters; He restores MY soul….”
Isn’t that so personal & powerful? The Psalm is also such a good reminder of God’s promise for provision. So, today, rest easy in the assurance that YOU will not be without: rest, restoration, guidance, safety, companionship, peace, comfort, joy, goodness mercy or love.
Faithfulness of Perseverance…
It strikes me that the saints of old are often called the faithful. The most famous example of this must be in the beloved Christmas hymn “O Come All Ye Faithful”. Those of us with even a small acquaintance with humanity know that none of us are naturally saintly nor faithful. What is it that enabled these pilgrims to be found thus, and in so doing, to become “joyful and triumphant”? What would allow us to do the same?
In the “Faith Hall of Fame” begun in Hebrews 11, those such as Abraham and Moses are referenced because they believed that God had power to do what He proclaimed, and were obedient, even unto death, despite great obstacles. It could be said they persevered in the calling God gave them regardless of the circumstances.Merriam-Webster defines perseverance as “continued effort to do or achieve something despite difficulties, failure, or opposition: the action or condition or an instance of persevering : steadfastness.” Paul wrote to Timothy, “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race” (II Timothy 4:7). I have always thought of the two statements as two different accomplishments, but maybe they are one and the same. Maybe to be faithful, we just have to run our races, not win any prizes. Maybe we simply have to stay the course.
Today, we promise to be faithful in everything from attendance to marriage, and yet so few of us are. For most, it has come to mean loyal, or steadfast in fulfilling one’s promises or obligations. If we simply dissect the building blocks of the word, it is to be full of faith, but its definition parallels that of perseverance: “loyal, constant, staunch, steadfast, resolute, firm in adherence to whatever one owes allegiance, implying unswerving adherence to a person or thing or to the oath or promise by which a tie was contracted” (Merriam-Webster). It would seem it is working in tandem with God, and taking Him at His word, that enables us to embody such constancy and unswerving devotion, and gives us the tools to persevere.
God makes us faithful, by being faithful to us. Each day, He asks us to run the course He’s set before us, and each day, He acts as our trainer and guide, as well as our fuel and our rest. I’ve found if I’ll just show up & take that first step forward, He’ll take me the rest of the way; irregardless, He shows up every day. He invites all to come, regardless of their qualifications or the training needed. The end results are in His hands, and regardless of how we place, He is “quick to mark even the simplest of efforts to please [Him]” (Tozer, A.W., The Attributes of God). He offers Himself to as the prize., and in so doing, He Himself is glorified. As we, the faithful, sing out each Christmas to THE Faithful One: “Jesus, to Thee be all glory given…..Word of the Father, now in flesh appearing…. O Come, let us adore Him….O Come, let us adore Him, Christ the Lord” (“O Come All Ye Faithful”, Wade & Reading).
The Gift of Presence…
There’s a faithfulness in presence. On the other side of my Grandma Thelma’s kitchen, and the table she always seemed to have prepared, sat Grandpa Ray in his screened back porch. No matter when we’d arrive for a visit, there he’d be in his chair, calmly smoking his pipe, ever composed and even-keeled. He never seemed caught off guard: throughout each day until supper and sunset, there he remained sentinel, regardless of what moved around him. He wasn’t an excitable man, and despite having spent his life as a barber, he wasn’t a talkative one. Even as a child, I wondered why he held himself aloof, always a bit removed even from those he loved most. I still know relatively little about his life, beyond the fact that he married my grandma when my dad was in high school, after my dad’s biological father had passed away. Grandpa Ray was the only paternal grandfather I knew, and though he never said he word, I knew he adored us. He died soon after Grandma passed, so in my mind and in that reality, he was always with her.
Though I never understood his cautious engagement with life and people, I think it was through him that I first learned that presence itself is a gift. Grandpa Ray was an observer of the quiet and beauty around him, enjoying his vantage point of the lane through the apple orchard and the bluff of southwestern Wisconsin. More than that, he regarded relationships and life with acceptance and wisdom. On the rare occasion where he would choose to comment, it was clear he’d been paying attention all along, and his voice was respected. “[His] good opinion [was] rarely bestowed, and therefore more worth the earning” (Austen, Jane. Pride & Prejudice). Though he was a man of few words, on the rare occasion he was out of the house, it felt rather empty without him. By the time I knew him, and perhaps before, he’d realized he could do little to control life, little he could understand of it. Still, he faithfully offered his attendance, and stood beside us all; his was the faithful gift of presence.
The Inevitability of Hope: Esperanza…
In her beautiful novel Gilead, Marilynne Robinson’s protagonist astutely notes, “We are never out of light, we just turn around in it.” David said it too in the 139th Psalm:
“Where can I go from your spirit, where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there. If I make my bed in the depth, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast. If I say, ‘Surely the darkness will hide me, and the light become night around me’, even the darkness will not be dark to you, the night will shine as the day, for darkness is as light to you.”
Such statements would seem to describe our existence on earth. We cannot escape the light and love and presence of God, and yet we dwell in the valley of the shadow, where we cannot yet fully enter in. Though I cannot escape His love, I am also unable to avoid waiting for its full realization. To be able to enter fully into the presence of peace one day is our hope; hope is essential to life. I remember feeling caught off guard once as I read Paul’s observations on hope in Romans 5:3-5:
“Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because suffering produces perseverance, and perseverance, character, and character, hope; and hope does not disappoint us, because God has filled us with His love by the power of His Holy Spirit.”
I was in my early 20’s, and processing several years of experiences that had been traumatic for various reasons. The passage struck me because I felt jaded, and in my cynicism, had begun to assume hope could only be the product of naivité, something generally found at the outset of experience, but not at its end. This verse asserts the opposite: Hope comes as the fruit of suffering, perseverance and character; if hope is founded on the true love of God, it cannot lead to disappointment. As Paul says later in Romans, the eighth chapter, “Nothing can separate us from the love of God.”
It encourages me to think that though there are times I might not always feel hopeful, I can trust that it is still a possibility of whatever process I am in. In Spanish, the verb for “to hope” is the exact same as both the verbs for “to wait” and “to expect”. Though in English, the terms are nuanced, when viewed as they are understood in Spanish, it seems true we cannot separate them. “Who hopes for what he already sees? But if we hope for what we cannot see, we wait for it patiently” (Romans 8:25). Paul also felt the terms and their practices were inseparable. Esperanza: hope and expectation, inextricably intertwined. If waiting is unavoidable, perhaps too, expecting and hoping are inevitable: “We are never out of light, we just turn around in it.”
Offering the Cup of Salvation…
The Psalmist echoes what I would imagine Bartimaeus sang in praise:
“I love the LORD, for He heard my voice; He heard my cry for mercy. Because He turned His ear to me, I will call on Him as long as I live….Then I called on the name of the LORD: ‘O LORD< save me!…our God is full of compassion…when I was in great need, He saved me….For You, O LORD, have delivered my soul from death, my eyes from tears, my feet from stumbling, that I may walk before the LORD in the land of the living…” (Psalm 116).
“How can I repay the LORD for all His goodness to me? I will lift up the cup of salvation, and call upon the Name of the LORD.” This is the response our Messiah, our promised and long-expected One desires from us. When we are granted our freedom, our sight, may we have eyes to see those around us living in darkness. When our thirst is satisfied by His rivers, may we lift His cup to the thirsty.
Doing this work with Jesus will not only bless others, but as Mother Teresa says, it will make us happy too. “If we pray the work…if we do it TO Jesus…if we do it FOR Jesus…THAT is what makes us CONTENT.”
