Stepping Up…

After almost nine years with chronic illness and pain, I definitely have my days where I get discouraged. I’m beyond thankful I have a body that moves and can do most things for itself, but it takes hours of the day to keep it in that condition. Despite my best efforts to live in health, it often feels as if my body continues to fall apart. In II Corinthians 4:16-17, the Bible says this is no surprise! “…Therefore, we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, yet our inner self is being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary affliction is producing for us an eternal glory that is far beyond comparison.…” I love that this passage, full of the seemingly distressing news that our bodies are indeed wasting away, begins with, and “…Therefore, we do not lose heart.” This is also the chapter that tells us, “…but we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us” (II Corinthians 4:7).

 

Author Roy Lessin writes, “Everything in this world is moving in a downward direction–our bodies are a little older than they were yesterday; the parts in our cars have more wear than they had yesterday; even the earth is aging like a worn garment. In God’s kingdom, things are just the opposite for us. Everything moves in an upward direction-we go from faith to faith, from glory to glory, & from strength to strength. Our characters are being conformed to the image of Jesus, our spiritual lives mature, our love for the Lord deepens, & He becomes more precious with time. Today you can confidently say, ‘It is well with my soul…& it will be even better tomorrow.’ ”

 

As we journey through this broken world with bodies and spirits that can often feel broken as well, may we be surrounded by the love of friends and family and a company of great hosts that aid us in our voyage.

“Calling All Angels”

by the Wailin’ Jennys

Un Examen…

As a Spanish speaker, I’m very familiar with the term “un examen,” meaning an exam or test. Until recently, however, I was not familiar with the term “examen” as it was first practiced by the Ignatius of Loyola in the Fourteenth Century. The examen was a series of six questions the Jesuit priests used for reflection at the end of each day:

 

  • Where did I experience the most consolation today?
  • Where did I experience desolation?
  • What was the most life-giving encounter today?
  • What was not life-giving?
  • For what was I most grateful today?
  • For what was I least grateful?

 

I am struck by how deeply each of these questions resonates, but also by what a profound practice and ritual this is. In my own culture and life and time, it seems that I am always on the move. Like many, my to-do list is a mile long and I struggle to let go of many of the items on it each day, always pushing. In the end, I push because I feel good about myself when I have accomplished a lot, but is that truly a place of consolation, or one of desolation? A quote I read recently from Do Hyun Choe Sugi Master reflects the balance we all must find well: “Movement is what creates life. Stillness is what creates love. To be still and still moving…that is everything.”

 

So in this new year, as with every year, this is one of the intentions, “…to be still and still moving.” To do so, I must find a daily balance between joyfully completing the tasks that I must do, being with the people I love, and resting. First and foremost must come time to “Be still and know that [He] is God.” Carving out time for the type of reflection suggested by the examen would be a lovely conclusion. Max Lucado reminds us, “Next time a sunrise leaves you breathless or a sunset leaves you speechless, STOP…REMAIN THAT WAY. Say nothing as heaven whispers: ‘Do you like it? I did it just for you?’ “

The Magic of Ordinary Days…

At last, my husband and I have entered a season of normalcy, a time of settling…at last. For him, it involves the beginning of a new job and the ascent of a high learning curve. For me, it is a return to the familiar, finding once more the cadence of a place my heart knows and loves. The rituals of living consume a good portion of the day, but as I clean, work or study, prepare meals, exercise or walk the dogs, I find in each ordinary task an extraordinary richness. After being away from all this for several months, my eyes are opened to the magic and gift of this life. The consistent, quiet routine nourishes my soul.

 

In her blog entitled, “When You Need a Survival Guide for the Soul,” author Ann Voskamp writes, “Habits are the way we wear our days…. Habits are the small gears that leverage your life–and if you change your rhythms, you can change anything into a possibility. You change your life when you change how you meet Christ every day. Our rhythms become our everyday liturgy, the cadence of the hours that reorient our tired souls.”

 

After almost four decades, I am learning little habits that help me to enjoy life a bit more. I try to do one thing at a time. I take a deep breath and look around when I eat a meal. I drink a cold glass of ice water and listen to music as I cook. I stop what I’m doing to be fully present when someone walks in the room. I read more and watch television less. I smile when I walk. Late in her life, Laura Ingalls Wilder wrote, “I am beginning to learn that it is the sweet, simple things of life which are the real ones after all.”

 
Ann Voskamp continues, “Musicians play one right note after the next right note after the next right note. It’s not an erratic splattering of sound or a fickle, helter-skelter banging of random notes. Music has order. It is composed. The notes played are intentional, considered, and deliberate. Lives that have rhythm sing. They don’t survive — they thrive…. Consistently keep the same soul rhythms every day, and you grow deeper into Him, the One who will reweave your soul into glory.” As we play each simple note, one after another, may the melody bring peace to others, and to our own souls…may it inspire us to thrive in each ordinary day.  

A Spacious Place…

Just now I’m listening to the song of wind chimes blowing in a gentle summer breeze outside my window. Curtains rustle as the light filters in. The dogs sleep in a mix of sun and shade under a tree where apples ripen in preparation for the autumn harvest. I sit at the table with the extraordinary gift before me of a peaceful, quiet time in which to read and reflect and write. As friends begin teaching children for a new school year, a blessing we once shared, I have a whiff of nostalgia, but breath a deep sigh of relief, for I know it had become too much for my fragile body.

 

A man walks his clomping horse up the dirt road where we live in this one-of-a-kind small mountain town. Though late August, the tundra on the hills has begun to change and the evenings are cooler. I settle into the weekday morning quiet of this world and feel deep gratitude for the season of rest I’ve been granted in this beautiful and spacious place. Studies completed, new paths opened and explored, more adventures and learning await and good work will need to be done. But for now, this day, I rest and give thanks.

 

Many times this was among the things only hoped for and imagined. That being said, it is important that I remember: my Father God and loving friends generously sacrificed and gave to share this with me. Both have been oh so sweet and faithful. As Psalm 18:16-19 proclaims, “He reached down from on high and took hold of me; He drew me out of deep waters. He rescued me from my powerful enemy, from my foes, who were too strong for me. They confronted me in the day of my disaster, but the LORD was my support. He brought me out into a spacious place; He rescued me because He delighted in me.”
As author Ann Voskamp states, the act of remembering re-members us, helping rejoin the broken pieces. A dear friend reminded me today: there have been miracles…. there will be miracles. It’s good to remember. The chimes sound as the winds stir a song of praise.  

Cracks…

There really isn’t a time in my life when I don’t remember actively walking with the Lord, so one would think that as I begin my thirty-seventh year, I would pretty much have this walk down. Wrong. There are so many days when I feel distant from my Father, so many times when I clearly see my sin and flaws realized in bad behavior. This worn vessel cracks and leaks in ways that make it appear less than ideal for useful service. I hurt those I love most and fall short of God’s glory and my own ambitions every day. At times I am the judgemental older brother, at others, I know myself to be as the wandering and rebellious prodigal son.

 

As RZIM A Slice of Infinity author Jill Carattini pointed out, there’s an easily glanced over phrase in the prodigal son story, “…the prodigal ‘came to himself’ and, at this, he decides to turn back to the father…. The son is one who wakes to health and life again, having been unconscious of his true condition. Standing in a foreign field hungry and alone, the son comes to something more than a good decision. He is waking to an identity he knew in part but never fully realized. He is remembering life in his father’s house again, though for the first time.”

 

How easy it is to lose sight of our identity when we wander away from our Father’s house. How easy it is to forget who God says I am. Lauren Daigle’s recent song, “You Say” beautifully affirms that He sees me cleansed, perfected, and redeemed. He provides acceptance and belonging. No matter what condition I’m in, I can always turn back to the open and waiting arms of my loving Father God.

 

This vessel may be cracked, but may it come to itself, may it come home, and may it be of use. As the apostle Paul said in II Corinthians 5:7-9, “7 But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. 8 We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; 9 persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.”

 

Canadian poet and songwriter Leonard Cohen also summed it up well in his song “Anthem,”:
“Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.”

Whether “Down in the Valley” or Standing  “Upon the Mountain of God”…

I’m in a really beautiful, beautiful season of my life right now. I have the opportunity to rest a little and chase a few dreams. I’ve fallen in love with the best man I’ve ever known, and even though there have been a few challenges for a Colorado girl pursuing a long-distance relationship with a Puerto-Rican (mostly three classes 4-5 hurricanes!), overall, I’m filled with gratitude every day for the sweetness of it all. As someone said long ago, it really is the greatest thing we’ll ever learn, just to love, and to be loved in return. This learning process is one that has given me the gift of getting to see the top of the tapestry the Lord is weaving in my life, when the previous thirty-five years have felt mostly like the underside view. In essence, my present in this present time is to stand upon the mountain of God with the one I love, looking back on the valleys we have separately crossed, as well as the deserts and hills we have independently wandered and climbed. We both look back on the last ten years of our lives, seasons that felt mysteriously dark and lonely to us both, and can now see so many ways God used them to prepare us for one another and the ministries to which we feel He is calling us. Our God is truly such a master architect and designer!

 

But, at the same time that my beloved and I are standing on top of the mountain of God, many others in my life are really hurting down in the valley. Good friends face the devastating betrayal and heartbreak of broken relationships. Another continues to desperately miss the husband she lost to illness. One is watching her uncle lose his battle against cancer, and her aunt face the prospect of losing a second husband to a terminal disease. I watch others suffer chronic pain or prolonged economic or relational difficulties. The people of Puerto Rico and México continue to suffer in the wake of shortages and hardships resulting from natural disasters. Many of the residents of Las Vegas grieve loved ones who tragically lost their lives to a mass shooting. As we all know, this world has no shortage of heartaches or joys. It is full of darkness, and it is full of light. And yet, even in the valley, we can hear the winds of promise blow, as a very old American folk song: “Down In the Valley” by Burl Ives says…

 

“Down in the valley, valley so low

Hang your head over, hear the wind blow

Hear the wind blow love, hear the wind blow

Hang your head over, hear the wind blow” (Lead Belly).

 

Whether this reaches you down in the valley today, standing upon the mountain of God,  or somewhere in between, may you hear in the wind the whisper of our Savior saying your name, and speaking of His unchanging and unfailing and unfathomably great love for you. May His voice fill your heart to overflowing; may He bring you peace. It’s funny, because all of this has been on my heart to write for so long, the title has been typed and awaiting me on my computer, and then this morning, I heard a song on the radio that was new to me, that perfectly expresses it all. I hope “Hills & Valleys”, by Tauren Wells, ministers to you, as it did to me. Wherever you are, may you know, without a doubt, you’re “safe inside [His] hand”.

 
“I’ve walked among the shadows
You wiped my tears away
And I’ve felt the pain of heartbreak
And I’ve seen the brighter days
And I’ve prayed prayers to heaven from my lowest place
And I have held the blessings
God, you give and take away
No matter what I have, Your grace is enough
No matter where I am, I’m standing in Your love
On the mountains, I will bow my life
To the one who set me there
In the valley, I will lift my eyes to the one who sees me there
When I’m standing on the mountain aft, didn’t get there on my own
When I’m walking through the valley end, no I am not alone!
You’re God of the hills and valleys!
Hills and Valleys!
God of the hills and valleys
And I am not alone!
I’ve watched my dreams get broken
In you I hope again!
No matter what I know
Know I’m safe inside Your hand.”

 

***Photo Credits: Lovedoes.org

Awakening the Senses…

Many can be brought to tears by a field full of wildflower glory and radiant color. For me, a field of grass inspires in such a way. Plain brown stalks of seeds catch a million shades of brown and gold in the sun’s soft light, and its this sight that awakens my senses like nothing else.

It’s a perfect day in mid-September. The grass is blowing in the wind, the sun is shining down, and it all takes my breath away. I see a cloudless Colorado azure sky above, and the mixed variant colors of leaves beginning to change their hues. Mostly mixes of green and yellow, they still carry the faint scent of summer life, though some have grown a crispy golden and fallen. The quaking leaves are framed by the chalky bark of their aspen parents.

I feel a strong breeze touch my skin, rustling the hairs of my bare arms. It’s a bit of an unusual characteristic, but I love wind. Its power captivates, fascinates, and even comforts me, probably one many reasons autumn is my favorite season. I hear the river meander by, low and peaceful.

Days like today bring the taste of remembrance of all things good. Without setting any conscious intention, my chin lifts, my breathing deepens, my step finds a spring, and my eyes gain a sparkle. I came to this moment without agenda or expectation, but it met me, awakening my senses with its presence.

 There is None Like You:

One of my favorite worship songs has long been Hillsong United’s  There is None Like You.  I love to sing to the LORD:

 

There is none like You.

No one else can touch my heart like You do,

I can search for all eternity Lord

And find, there is none like You.

 

Your mercy flows like a river wide,

And healing comes from Your hand.

Suffering children are safe in Your arms,

There is none like You.

 

There is none like You, ( There is none like You, Lord)

There is none like You.

 

Once, as I was struggling deeply over the rejection of others, & sensing my own absolute worthiness to even sing this praise to my Holy God, He whispered to my heart: “Beloved, don’t you know I feel just the same way about you? I died so that would you know…so let me now sing this over you.” Desperately humbled & healed in the undeserved revelation of His grace., tears streamed down my face as He sang His song…this song… over me. For Him, there is no one else like me.  He made us all with special purposes, & fitted us all to sing His praises as only we can.  
Though the world rejects you, He never will. As He promised through His prophet Isaiah: “Can a mother forget the baby at her breast, & have no compassion on the child she has born? I tell you, though she may forget, I WILL NOT FORGET YOU.  See, I have ENGRAVED YOU on the PALMS OF MY HANDS. Your walls are ever before me” (Isaiah 49:15-16). He waits to sing over YOU: “My beloved, ‘there is none like you.  NO ONE ELSE can touch MY heart like you do.  I could search for all eternity long, & find, there is none like you.’ ”  This is just as God spoke through Isaiah in chapter 43, verse 4: “Since YOU are precious & honored in my sight, & because I love you, I will give men in exchange for you, & people in exchange for your life.”

 

***Photo Credits: Ann Voskamp***

An Iron Will: A Tribute to Georgine…

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.

Day By Day: Practicing His Presence (Brother Lawrence)…

Mindfulness is one of the buzzwords of our generation.  It’s ironic, considering that same generation is involved in such an incredible quantity & variety of things, at such a frenzied pace, that it seems we’re rarely mindful or truly present. Perhaps, however, that is an indicator of our hearts’ longings to be still, intentionally quiet enough to take in all we’re experiencing…at peace. There is much to be said for how our lives can be enriched by focusing on one thing at a time: this is the true meaning of meditation.

 

My own lessons in this practice have come not from any new or New-Age philosophies, but through the writings & lessons of Brother Lawrence, a Christian monk who lived hundreds of years ago. Frustrated with his own attitude of disgust towards the menial tasks that occupied much of the monks’ time, he decided that he would turn every action & moment into an opportunity for praise & prayer. In his journal writings collected in the book Practicing the Presence of God, he describes how using tasks like washing dishes in o prayerful worship & conversations with God transformed his thinking & life experience. As he continued this habit over many years, he became more & more aware of how real & personal God was…& IS…& always will be. He grew to know more & more of the goodness & heart of our God, & described God as real enough to take hold of his hand. Brother Lawrence’s experience is reminiscent of Isaiah voicing God’s promise in Isaiah 41:10 & 13:

 

“So do not fear, for I am with you, do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand….For I am the LORD, your God, who takes hold of your right hand & says to you, ‘Do not fear, I will help you.’ ”

 

The Creator & Sustainer & Savior of the universe is always there, with us every step we take. He calls for us to seek His face always. As Peter exhorts & encourages us: “Draw near to God, & He will draw near to you.” We must intentionally pursue His presence, continually making it our habit to call our attention back to Him, & responding to the guidance of His Spirit.