Category: Success

“Jesus, I Am Resting”…

sparrowsongLeave a comment

”Jesus, I am resting, in the joy of what Thou art. I am finding out the measure of Thy loving heart. Thou hast bid’st me gaze upon Thee, and Thy beauty fills my soul, for by Thy transforming power, Thou hast made me whole” (Pigott, Jean; “Jesus, I Am Resting”). This is the first chorus of the famed nineteenth century missionary to China, & founder of the transformative China Inland Mission group,  Hudson Taylor. In the face of grief, after losing his beloved wife, having long suffered heavy criticism and isolation, he wrote to his sister in England that these words were his greatest source of comfort. How difficult it is to be still and to rest in the sovereignty and presence of God, when He has allowed the one you most love to leave your side.

 

I’ve recently made a very personal, and yet public, decision to leave a ten-year career as a public school teacher because of my health. In so doing, I gave up any hope that my life could be easily understood by others looking in from the outside. I’ve been so blessed that there are many family and friends who understand or empathize the intensity of the process I am in, and who have offered me shelter and respite. It feels a bit like I’ve taken a giant leap off a cliff, and mercifully landed on a spacious precipice, but with the vast unknown still before me. I can’t see the next steps, the future is still completely unknown, and yet…it is here, in this place, today, that I must learn to rest. Deuteronomy 33:27 says, “The eternal God is your refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms.” They seem to echo the following verses of this great hymn, and prompt me to fix my gaze on God alone:

 

“Simply trusting Thee Lord Jesus, I behold Thee as Thou art,

and Thy love, so pure, so changeless, satisfies my heart.

Satisfies its every longing, meets, supplies, its every need.

Compasseth me round with blessings, Thine is love indeed.

Ever fix my gaze upon Thee, as I work and watch for Thee.

Resting ‘neath Thy smile Lord Jesus, earth’s dark shadows flee.

Sunshine of my Father’s glory, brightness of my Father’s face.

Keep my ever resting, trusting, Fill me with Thy grace.”

Lovers of Peace…

sparrowsongLeave a comment

“Act justly. Love mercy. Walk humbly with your God” (Micah 6:8). These are the qualities God asks us to demonstrate with our lives when He is asked by His people “What does the Lord require of us?”. This word comes in the Old Testament, an age that was under the Law. Even from then, the things God asks of us are really quite simple, but most certainly, simultaneously quite profound. In a way, they can be summed up in a code of peace. We are to have peace with God, peace with others, & peace within ourselves. If that peace exists, these qualities will be consistently demonstrated in our lives. In the New Testament, Jesus & his disciples often command us to be lovers of peace, & peace is also delineated as one of the pieces of the “armor of God”. Paul tells us to put it on every day in Ephesians 6:15: “having shod your feet with the preparation of the gospel of peace.” The Gospel simply means “good news”, & we associate this with God’s gift of salvation from our sins & darkness through the sacrifice of His Son Jesus.

 

But…there’s a piece of this armor that I’ve often missed. Not only does donning God’s armor mean we are equipped with that Word of the Gospel…it also means we must demonstrate the PEACE that news brings to our lives (The Armor of God, Priscilla Shirer). That PEACE is what speaks into the hearts & minds of those around us. It’s what equips & empowers us to live in hope & life. If we don’t demonstrate it, then we’re not “speaking” His good news to the world in action & deed. Perhaps that means we’re not truly allowing His Spirit to empower us in the moment-by-moment living. Another piece of good news, however, is that this peace is not something we can produce on our own, it is described as a fruit & byproduct of His Holy Spirit working in us (Galatians 5:22-23). After accepting His salvation, all we must do is allow His Spirit to work within us as His vessels. We must simply allow His PEACE to PERMEATE our hearts & minds & souls if we are to offer it over & over again to a broken world living without His hope & His life. I want to soak it in, and let it permeate my thoughts…and heart…and words…and relationships.

“The Wonder of It All”…

sparrowsong2 Comments

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.

Faithfulness of Perseverance…

sparrowsongLeave a comment

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…

sparrowsong1 Comment

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.

Anchored in the His Harvest…

sparrowsongLeave a comment

A friend of mine was once  given a vision and a strong mental picture of harvesting. She saw a girl walking through a corn field, ripe for harvest. As the girl walked, the storm winds blew & endangered all that had grown. As she faced the storm, she carried a large anchor, & began to cast it against the wind, into the harvest field. Again & again, as the storms buffeted all that had been produced by hard labor & careful care, the girl made this choice. Again & again, she threw her anchor into the harvest.

 

It reminds me of Bebo Norman’s song entitled “All That I Have Sown”, which describes what ultimately comes of each of our lives:

 

And all that grows is our story told

As life unfolds here before

The peace we found in that broken ground

I can see them in the harvest…of all that I have sown

And when my life is done

I pray the kingdom come

And take me to Glory

It’s living inside me

It was planted like a seed

All to tell a story
It’s “all to tell a story”. The tasks given to each of us may require a hard, committed constant endeavor, and at times, can feel very lonely. We must encourage each other to take heart, and together, courageously cast out our anchors over and over again. Matthew tells us that Jesus said, “The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few. Pray therefore that the Lord will send out workers into His harvest field.” Even prayer may feel like a long labor, and trusting the season of harvest awaits us may require immense faith; we are only capable of this great work as we are filled with God’s strength. As we anchor ourselves in a harvest that is most often unseen, truly, we anchor ourselves in Him. In Him is “all our hope & stay” (On Christ the Solid Rock I Stand).

“O Joy that Seekest Me Through Pain” (George Matheson)-

sparrowsong1 Comment

One of my favorite sights in Barcelona is the artist Antoni Gaudi’s Parque Güell, where mosaic tiles cover the longest bench in the world. There’s something so beautiful about mosaics, isn’t there? They strike something within us not only for the picture they create with complementary colors, but also for the stunning revelation of patterns and colors one wouldn’t think of as naturally belonging together. They are all simply pieces of vessels and structures that have been broken and neglected, whose original purpose seemed to lie torn in worn-out pieces. They highlight the beauty of fractured things coming together to create something new, something unexpected. When this happen in my life, as in this present season of reinvention, the new and ultimate picture being made by God is often a mystery. C.S. Lewis spoke of God as being the master artist in our lives:

“Remember He is the artist and you are only the picture. You can’t see it. So quietly submit to be painted—i.e., keep fulfilling all the obvious duties of your station (you really know quite well enough what they are!), asking forgiveness for each failure and then leaving it alone. You are in the right way. Walk—don’t keep on looking at it.”

When I do catch a glimpse of God’s vision for what seemed fragmented and lost, it often takes my breath away. Submitting to His artistry, and to this mystery, ultimately seems to bring a surprising joy that can’t be ignored. Pastor and hymn writer George Matheson spoke of this too:

“O joy that seekest me through pain,

I dare not close my heart to thee.

I trace the rainbow through the rain,

And know the promise is not vain,

That morn shall tearless be.”

The Apostle Paul’s encouragement in Romans 8:28 is so comforting: “And we know in all things, God works for the good of those who love Him, of those who are called according to His purpose”. One day will see the grand design: “Then I will know, even as [we] are fully known” (I Corinthians 13:12). That day will not only hold the revealing of His artistic design, it will be the completion of all our joyous victories, manifested in all their fullness.

On Waiting…

sparrowsong2 Comments

Though most of us live our lives “on the go”, and many of us will travel far, the place we’ll spend perhaps more time in than any other is  in life’s waiting room. Even Dr. Seuss recognizes this in his classic children’s story Oh, The Places You’ll Go: “Waiting for a train to go or a bus to come, or a plan to go or the mail to come, or the rain to go or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow or waiting around for a ‘Yes’ or ‘No’, or waiting for their hair to grow. Everyone is just waiting.” It’s as if he’s pointing it out to both the child and the adult that waiting is a necessary component of any voyage.

 

Many of us feel we’ve spent a great deal of our lives waiting on God. Our petitions are many, our prayers may even be incessant, but God often seems slow to answer. One possible reason for this is God’s view of time, as the apostle Peter observes:

‘But do not forget this one thing, dear friends: With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day. The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance.’

This same passage points out that though God may require us to be patient, we are the true beneficiaries of patience. Through waiting and hoping, we learn not just to lay our requests before the Father, but also to converse with Him, learning to trust that He will always faithfully respond, and always answer in a way that yields “the best possible results, for the most possible people, at the best possible time” (Chip Ingram). Eugene Peterson once summarized, “Waiting does not diminish us, any more than waiting diminishes a pregnant mother. We are enlarged in the waiting. We, of course, don’t see what is enlarging us. But the longer we wait, the larger we become, and the more joyful our expectancy.”

Living in a House Called “Enough”…

sparrowsongLeave a comment

From the day of my birth until today, there isn’t one I have survived without grace. Despite my doubts and regrets, that grace has always been enough. My needs have been met, and often in ways I could never have envisioned. It’s as if someone saw my future, and stockpiled exactly the provisions I would need along the way. Someone did. As unchanging as I may be, God never wavers. Worry hasn’t changed one bit of His gracious provision. Considering the reality of His providence and provenance, why is it I spend most of life ruminating over thoughts full of worry? Will there be sufficient companionship, happiness, or strength, or time, or wisdom? Though His grace has always proved sufficient, it seems I’m always fretting He won’t be enough.
Often I think God is asking me about that very thing: Just when will all He’s given fill my bottomless well? Just when will I let Him be enough?  He’s never ever failed me. If fear, as someone said, is a result of imagining the future without God in it, then why, oh why, am I so afraid? I want to learn to dwell in a land called enough…to live in it and make my home there. I’m determined to learn to give to others from that place of enough, knowing in the depths of my soul there’s an inexhaustible supply. To find that place, I must choose to make it my destination, to gratefully acknowledge each grace, to constantly hear the voice that beckons over any calm or storm: “I am enough. I will be enough.” As Cheryl Strayed said, I too proclaim: “Fear to a great extent, is born of a story we tell ourselves, and so I choose to tell myself a different story.”

“Bread & Roses”…

sparrowsongLeave a comment

The early 1900’s saw many labor strikes in America in the effort to attain better working conditions, particularly in industrial manufacturing. It was perfectly common for men, women and children to spend their lives working ten-twelve hour days, seven days a week. In textile mills of the day, as well as the carpet factories of places such as India today, children are especially prized as laborers for their small hands and ability to work the looms. One of the most famous strikes took place in Lawrence, Massachusetts in 1912. Working conditions were deplorable, and citizens of fifty-two different nations were living within a nine-mile radius of the mill. When the mill randomly cut the weekly pay by thirty-two cents, somewhere around 30,000 workers protested for over nine weeks, using the opportunity for their union to fight for a reduction in the work hours for women and children from twelve to ten hours daily (http://www.history.com/news/the-strike-that-shook-america-100-years-ago). The mill staunchly refused any compromise, and the battle raged on. It came to be known as one that shook America, and most famously, as the “Bread and Roses” strike, for the song the payless workers would sing as they came to protest each day (James Oppenheim).

As we go marching, marching

In the beauty of the day

A million darkened kitchens

A thousand mill lofts grey

Are touched with all the radiance

That a sudden sun discloses

For the people hear us singing

Bread and roses, bread and roses

As we go marching, marching

We battle too for men

For they are women’s children

And we mother them again

Our lives shall not be sweated

From birth until life closes

Hearts starve as well as bodies

Give us bread, but give us roses

It’s words always give me chills. It wasn’t until the U.S. federal government became involved that the union demands were met, but the victory was for many workers yet to come, and it served to awaken America’s social consciousness. This song is so essential historically, but also so meaning to me personally. It touches on the need for beauty in our lives. Work is a blessing in so many ways, and can bring a sense of purpose and connection. We must also cultivate our awareness and attention to the beauty in our lives. There’s always more present than we can conceive, always enough to feed our souls. “Our lives will not be sweated from birth until life closes. Hearts starve as well as bodies; give us bread, but give us roses.”