Category: Community

“I Like Myself Best When I Am Laughing” (Zora Neale Hurston)…

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I have a friend who loves to laugh.  She prompts me and others to laugh so beautifully. An entire wall in her home is covered with signs reminding her to do it… to laugh, and to keep on laughing. Her joy and amazing sense of humor are part of her spiritual gifting, a natural inclination and  talent that she has, a reflection of the joy and mirth in God’s own heart. But of course, life has tested and tried this pure joy. Circumstances and storms have attempted to destroy the very quality that most attracts those around her to Christ. She inspires me every day in her determination to resist these attacks and, as Proverbs 31 says to laugh at the days to come, but oh yes…she still has to remind herself.

 

Isn’t laughing such a reflection of a state of happiness, innocence, and lightheartedness? What a beautiful offering  to give to the world. Along with the childlike spirit it embodies, it seems to me it is also a symbol of trust and vulnerability, when we unabashedly present our truest selves to those around us and the world, just as they are, without holding back. Zora Neale Hurston said, “I like myself best when I am laughing.” Me too.

 

Unlike the friend I mentioned, laughing is not my natural inclination; I am more serious in heart and nature. But I believe it is a habit that can be learned, that must be practiced. I must learn to cultivate and love this voice and offer it to the world, for all its worth…for the glory of all He’s worth. Today, may God bring joy to your own heart. May you sense Him shouldering your burdens, looking you in the eyes, offering the twinkle in His own, and drawing out the beautiful laugh He gave you. After all, it’s like no one else’s.

 

***Photo Credits: lovedoes.org

How Great Thou Art-

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Consider, beloved of God, all the works His hands have made. “See the stars, hear the rolling thunder: [His] power throughout the universe displayed.” We are called to live in awe of our awesome Creator. What marvel exists that has not its foundation in His power? What vista stirs our soul that has not its roots in His creativity? What exists that owes not its existence & sustenance to His hand? And…not only does His power know no limits, nor His realm know no bounds, but His love & His goodness also know no end.  

 

He is not only great, but good, & He loves…you, as if there was no one else to love. This does not mean we will escape the trouble & toil of this adventurous life; we are, in fact, assured of it by our Saviour. It calls to mind C.S. Lewis’ story The Lion, The Witch, & The Wardrobe. There is a famous scene where the youngest girl Lucy inquires of  her friend Mr. Beaver after the character of the legendary lion Aslan, the absent king of Narnia: “Safe?” said Mr. Beaver; “don’t you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you.”

 

And of this “problem of pain”, we can say with author Philip Yancey that we find comfort in a God who was willing “to take His own medicine.” The long-favored hymn How Great Thou Art says in its final verse:

And when I think, that God His Son not sparing, sent Him to die, I scarce can take it in

That on the Cross, my burdens gladly bearing, He bled & died, to take away my sin,

Then SINGS MY SOUL, my Saviour God to Thee, How Great Thou Art, How Great Thou Art.

 

So, beloved ones, let’s, take in the goodness & might of our great God, & let that soul of yours, let it SING.

***Photo Credits: Ann Voskamp

Accepting Joy…

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Part of my very part-time employment at present is working with a woman who also has a severe neurological condition, though hers is far more severe. I model a few exercises and provide a little massage and stretching; she models so much more for me. She’s been sick for most of thirty years, and has spent thirteen of those paralyzed from the waist down and regulated to a wheelchair. And yet, she always has a smile on her face. When I asked her how she was able to be so upbeat and positive, she said that she wouldn’t want the husband who’s been her caretaker all those years to have to live with a grump. This made me smile; it almost seems like a casual and lighthearted approach to coping with illness, but it is most definitely far more. Long ago, she made a very intentional choice to live in acceptance, gratitude and joy, one I’m sure she has had to make that choice over and over again, but she has. Hers is a very cultivated positivity held perfectly in tension with practical surrender, and they end result is joy.

 

She calls it grace. It reminds me of what Ann Voskamp once wrote: “Grace is like the wind. It finds us as we are, but it does not leave us as we have been. All is grace.” Grace has met her anew each day in exactly the place she is; it continually shapes and molds her into the image of God. She’s a willing vessel in the hands of a skillful potter; anyone has only to look at my friend’s radiant countenance to be awestruck by its fragile strength. She’s a former elementary teacher, a mom and wife and daughter and sister and aunt and friend. She’s a quilter and a prayer warrior and a blessing to all who know her. I’m so very thankful: in a season of struggling to accept my own challenging circumstances, or perhaps simply arriving in the place where I actually have accepted them, God has given me this beautiful example. I want to accept the joy that fills and surrounds me and say with my friend and the saints of old, as voiced by the prophet Isaiah: “And yet LORD, you are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter” (Isaiah 64:8).

 

*Photo by Ann Voskamp. 

An Iron Will: A Tribute to Georgine…

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Tomorrow is Independence Day, a celebration of what it means to know free life. The Fourth of July marks not only that for me: it is both the anniversary of a friend’s spiritual birthday in 1950, as well as that of her “home-going” sixty-four years later. She’s been gone for three years now, and it still doesn’t seem possible that’s a reality; I can hear her voice as if it were yesterday. From the day I met her when I moved to this area in 2008, she said I was a kindred spirit and adopted me as a granddaughter. She called me her “Sweet Pea”; I called her my “Mama G”. She reminded me of the grandmother I lost when I was nine years old: Mama G’s quiet strength, obdurate determination, compassionate presence and vocal faith mirrored those of my Grandma Thelma. I was instantly at home with her.

 

Mama G was an example of the faith and perseverance of the saints to all who knew her. She modeled for me how one could live well with serious illness, something she coped with admirably for almost half her life: the chronic and inflammatory autoimmune disease Lupus targeted her as a young mother. Everything she did over the next decades came at a cost, but she counted it all worthy of the price she paid. She told me often with great sincerity that she counted it a true joy to share even a small bit of the suffering that was our Lord’s, and she lived out its truth. Her best friend says she had an “iron will”. As Proverbs 27:17 says, “As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another.” She helped all her loved ones (in other words, everyone she knew) to be shaped into the mold of our Savior. In the spring of 2014, she contracted pancreatic cancer, the same disease took my Grandma Thelma’s life. They say it’s the most painful way to die: since the pancreas sits on a bundle of nerves that travel throughout the whole body, its sensations are akin to those of crucifixion. Though a nerve block relieved that pain for a while, in the end she suffered its fullness. Again, she counted it all joy and faced it with that iron will, her eyes on Jesus. A few short months later, she went Home to be with God. In life and in death, she celebrated free life that did not come without a cost; her soul at last found its final rest. 

 

I am only one who loved this precious woman of God, she was precious to many, but I remember and miss her every single day. As I face each new dawn and dusk, I hear the words to one of her favorite hymns Carolina Sandell Berg, modeling the acceptant trust with which she lived all the days of her life, Day by Day:

 

Help me then, in every tribulation,

So to trust Thy promises, O Lord,

That I lose not faith’s sweet consolation,

Offered me within Thy holy Word.

Help me, Lord, when toil and trouble meeting,

E’er to take, as from a father’s hand,

One by one, the days, the moments fleeting,

Till with Christ the Lord I stand.

Feeding on Mystery…

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In 1,000 Gifts, Ann Voskamp explains that the Hebrew word “manna” means mystery. In their wandering in the wilderness on the way to the Promised Land, the food the God of heaven and earth rained down on the Israelites was literally mystery. The sweet manna bread was given purposefully to be only sufficient for one day at a time, keeping the children of Israel continuously dependent on God to supply their each and every need day by day. No matter how many days God provided faithfully for them, they wondered with each new one if He could do it again. So it is for His children today: we are dependent on His provision each and every day. He faithfully provides for our needs, yet we are often filled with doubt that He will do it again. Our lives are full of paradoxes: glories and suffering fall on us all; rain falls on both the just and the unjust. So much is unexplained; our walk with the Lord can be nothing besides a walk of faith. We feed on mystery too.

 

In A Chance to Die, Elisabeth Elliott’s captivating biography of missionary Amy Carmichael, a letter is quoted that was sent to her by her mother. Amy had suffered a fall that caused an abnormal nerve response throughout her whole body. It left her bedridden for the rest of her life. These words encouraged Amy’s remarkable faith and  trust in the Lord that would be an example to many around the world in the coming years:

“He who hath led will lead, all through the wilderness.

He who hath fed will feed.

He who hath heard thy cry, will never close His ear.

He who hath marked Thy faintest sigh, will not forget thy tear.

He loveth always, faileth never, so rest in Him today, forever.”

 

I too, am currently in what could be called a wilderness season; I seem to have lost the path to the Promised Land. Trials of health and loss of career have led me out of Egypt and into a new place of dependence; the path is unknown and seems illuminated only one step at a time. I feed on mystery meted out in doses sufficient for each day. But if I’m wandering in circles through desert, I’m not wandering there alone. God has provided sweet sustenance through His presence and the companionship of true friends. He has fed my soul with beauty and peace; even the prickly cacti bloom in the barren land. I’m reminded of the prayer of George VI at the dawning of a new year:

“I said to the man at the gate of the year: ‘Give me a light, that I may walk safely into the unknown.’ He said to me, ‘Go out into the darkness and put your hand into the hand of God. It shall be to you better than the light and safer than the known.”

 

And so it is, and so shall it be. We put our hands into the hands of God and feed on the manna of His mysteries. We give thanks for it, break it, share it, and we call it…grace.

The Body of Christ, Crucified…

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Church is important to me, and at least until my health became poor several years ago, I was very involved in ministry within it. Lately, however, I’ve been discovering I feel pretty apathetic towards it. I still love to worship in it, to raise my voice in song and take communion with others, to listen to messages that dig deep into the Word. To be quite honest, though, there’s something about it that can be so exhausting. The people who inhabit churches can be so broken, as we all can be. On the flip side, I’ve also been the recipient of generosity, grace and lots more love than I could ever deserve from people within churches. I’m not meaning to throw punches, and certainly have no right to cast stones; I know I can’t remain in apathy or disconnection, and that my eyes should be on God alone. It seems, however, that if there’s something to this whole faith thing, and I know that I know that there is, there should be something different about church.

 

I remember reading somewhere years ago, though I’m not sure of the source, an explanation of church that has helped me in accepting this, or at least it made it all so much more comprehensible. It explained that the Body of Christ, the Church, is still the broken body of Christ. Though often filled with wonderful and well-intentioned people, and inhabited by the Holy Spirit, the Church will not be the resurrected and perfected Body of Christ until the day our Savior returns. One day, we too, shall be like Him; for now, we are all still being sanctified. Sometimes, as when the church welcomes all into its doors and steps out into communities and preaches with actions and not just words, reaches out its hands to help those in need, we are like Him even now. Others, we are broken and bleeding and wounded…but still, the blood flows down from the Savior who died to bring all men to Him. As the band Casting Crowns said in their song “If We Are the Body”, may we continue striving to be His arms reaching, His hands healing, His words teaching, His feet going, His love showing [the world] there is a way.

 

Photo Credits, & an Interesting Article: http://www.charismanews.com/us/53715-study-thousands-of-churches-closing-every-year-but-there-is-a-silver-lining

“Prepare to Be Surprised”…

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In the movie Dan In Real Life, Dan is a dad considering what to say to his daughter as she graduates from high school & heads out into the world. As he does so, he starts to examine his own life, & how often it surprised him, or failed to meet any of his expectations.  So, why is it that we’re always asking graduates what their “plans” are? Why do we try so hard to prepare for what’s coming, when in reality, we know there is no adequate preparation? Whatever happens will probably come as pretty much…a total surprise.  While plans & dreams can be great things, our expectations of what we think our lives are supposed to look like so often constrain & disappoint us. We often hold these visions so firmly, & cling so tightly, that it makes it difficult for our hands to be open to other great things God has intended for us.

 

Corrie Ten Boom, survivor of the Holocaust & author of The Hiding Place, said it this way: “I’ve learned to hold things loosely.  I don’t like it when He has to pry them from my grip.”  Living a surrendered life is not easy, but it IS what God call us to do, & it must be done over & over again.  In his Superpower Poem, Steve Gross states: “Openness to what is can take us far. Suffering is rooted in wanting things to be different than the way they are.”  How true this is, & how grand it would be if we could live each day as small children: open to whatever the day brings, playful & joyful in the opportunities that come, ready for adventure…all simply because they’re trusting in the good things they know their parents have prepared. “It isn’t that I cling to Him, or struggle to be blessed. He simply takes my hand in His, & there I let it rest. So I dread not any pathway, dare to sail on any sea, since the handclasp of my savior makes the journey safe for me” (unknown). It’s safe, we can trust Him…so let’s consider willingly surrendering our expectations to our Lord, & live prepared…to be surprised.