“Thoughts of God…”-

Solomon tells us in Proverbs 23:7 that, “As a man thinks in his heart, so is he.” The apostle Paul encourages us in Philippians 4:8 to think on whatever things are true and just and lovely and honorable. With hundreds, even thousands, of thoughts entering our minds each and every hour, these verses are among the greatest challenges offered to us, yet also numbered in the most vital to our well-being.

 

How easy it is to allow our thinking to become negative or fixated on difficult circumstances–how natural to let unforgiveness or bitterness creep in! If our minds focus on such things, however, our hearts and speech overflow. As the modern saying goes, “What we focus on, grows.” I have been guilty of focusing on my own circumstances and pain recently–perhaps always, and I have seen the poor fruit resulting.

 

Words from an old friend call to me, “Genuine faith does not look at itself–it looks at God. When I feel in pain, the enemy is trying to get me to look at myself and look away from my Healer. When I feel insecure, then the enemy is trying to get me to look at myself and will remind me of my failings. So instead of trying to have more faith, I will try to look to Christ–remembering all His perfection, faithfulness, and goodness…. And I am in Him.”

 

Right thinking is one of the only sure foundations for living but it seems a monumental task. So how do I get there? As my friend encourages, I must focus on my Healer instead of the challenges at my doorstep or the ache in my heart or the pain in my body. I’m often reminded of King Jehosaphat’s story in II Chronicles 23–even when the circumstances are insurmountable, gratitude, praise, and prayer are always my way out. Author and researcher Brené Brown finds that the simple daily practice of keeping a gratitude journal is one of the biggest factors in cultivating the wholehearted attitude of gratitude. Spending time in God’s Word and in worship daily mold us into the image of Christ. The little things we do every day really do make a huge difference in our overall health and happiness.

 

Yet I know that if it’s up to me, my thinking and attitudes will change by small degrees–I’m dependent on the Holy Spirit for deep heart and life transformation. Missionary Amy Carmichael wrote a beautiful poem entitled “Thoughts of God” that begins, “Think through me thoughts of God/ My Father quiet me/ Till in Thy holy presence hushed, I think Thy thoughts with Thee.” He waits for me to surrender in order to be changed, to turn my eyes continually upon Him, but regardless, one thing can never change…I am in Him.

***Photo credits to lovedoes.org

The Present Nu…

The more I journey into my adult life, the more I find that the past is something that has a strong grip on me. For better or worse, it has shaped me into the person I am today. Many memories, trained reactions, and wounds are hard to let go of. I’ve found that some are even woven into parts of my subconscious and nervous system. This way of being can in fact, be a place of exile. As author Leif Enger mentions in his novel Peace Like a River, “Exile is a country of shifting borders, hard to quit yet hard to endure, no matter your wide shoulders, no matter your toughened heart.” Though I know that it is only as I grow and learn to dwell in the present that I can embrace all that God has for me, it is quite a journey to learn how to do that. 

 

What a comfort to know that regardless of where I dwell–past, present, or future–God is with me. Psalm 46:1 states, “God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in times of trouble.” We often hear that God the Alpha and Omega, the First and the Last. I recently read a quote by William Watley that emphasizes another aspect of His character: “You are connected to somebody who is not only the Alpha and the Omega, but the Nu as well. Alpha and omega are the first and last letters of the Greek alphabet; nu is the middle letter. Thus, Jesus is not only somebody who will be with us in the beginning….He abides with us in all that is between…in the middle.” 

 

God offers us His support in each moment of our lives simply through His presence. I ask, by His mercy, that I may learn to let go of the past and abide in the present with Him. Dominican singer and songwriter Juan Luis Guerra has a song called “Tan Solo He Venido/I Have Only Come,” which speaks to the author’s desire to commune with God. In it, he speaks to wanting to walk in the park with the Lord and have a conversation, just to be with Him and worship Him and know Him more, trusting God already knows the needs and petitions of His heart. Though at times I may get discouraged with the slow speed of my growth, it’s a consolation to find this level of companionship and comfort always waiting for me.

“DO IT AGAIN…”

Though my family didn’t move to Colorado until I turned eight, having lived here thirty years this year, I consider myself very much a Colorado girl. Filled with more Fourteeners than any other state, Colorado’s high desert tundra, crystal mountain lakes, majestic sunrises and sunsets, alpenglow, and mystical mountains have “filled up my senses” countless times.

 

I’ve often wondered what it is about mountains that’s so captivating. They’re definitely a solid, seemingly immovable presence. They remind us there’s something and someone greater than us, greater than the obstacles we face each day. They invite and beckon to adventure, exploration, and challenge. They call us to see new beauty and summit the heights. And yet, as solid and unchanging as the mountains seem, Jesus tell us we can move them. “…Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you” (Matthew 17:20, NIV).

 

There are a few seasons of life that have been marked journeys of faith for me, times when God called me to believe something that seemed virtually impossible at the time. It required a long wait, a lot of growth, and an attitude of expectancy as I navigated the valleys and summited the peaks. Sometimes, the hoped-for result came. Sometimes not. Most often, the answer looked quite different than I anticipated. But always, always, God proved Himself faithful, and the greatest reward came from His presence on the journey. In reality, it wasn’t my faith that moved mountains. My Father God worked on my behalf to move them for me as I depended on Him.

 

Several things have shifted in my circumstances lately, or burst, perhaps, is a better word. So now, here I am, once again in another season of absolute need, desperate for my God to move. As many times as God’s done the impossible and shown Himself strong in my life, still, it requires more faith for me to believe He’ll do it again. I continue to allow my fear to be bigger than my faith. But as song artist Rita Springer says, “I have to believe that He sees my darkness. I have to believe that He knows my pain…. For He said that He’s forever faithful. He said He’s forever true. He said He can move mountains. He can move my mountains; He can move your mountains too. I have to believe.” Faith simultaneously transforms us and sustains us. In Isaiah, hundreds of years before Jesus came, God assures us, “…I will not forget you. See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands. Your walls…are ever before me” (Isaiah 49:16). What I face, He faces…He has engraved me on the palms of His hands. He has always been faithful…He will be again. “I believe Lord, help my unbelief” (Mark 9:24).

 

There’s a song by Elevation Worship that’s been speaking to my heart, “DO IT AGAIN.” The lyrics state:

 

“Walking around these walls

I thought by now they’d fall

But You have never failed me yet

Waiting for change to come

Knowing the battle’s won

For You have never failed me yet

 

Your promise still stands

Great is Your faithfulness, faithfulness

I’m still in Your hands

This is my confidence, You’ve never failed me yet

 

I know the night won’t last

Your Word will come to pass

My heart will sing Your praise again

Jesus, You’re still enough

Keep me within Your love

My heart will sing Your praise again

 

I’ve seen You move, come move the mountains

And I believe, I’ll see You do it again

You made a way, where there was no way

And I believe, I’ll see You do it again…”

 

Indeed. I have seen Him move mountains. And I do believe. I will see Him do it again. He has made a way where there was no way. Let’s believe we’ll see Him do it again.

“Home is Wherever I’m With You…”

In John 15:9, Jesus tells us “As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now abide in my love.”  We not only have a God who has adopted & treated us as His children and heirs, & sent His son to die that we might live as such, He also provides for us a home.  Jesus tells us to remain in that love..to abide in it…to make our dwelling place in the home of His heart.  Wherever we go, whatever our circumstances, however far we may roam…we always have a place “where we can enter and be at rest, even when all around…is a sea of trouble” (31 Days of Praise, Ruth Meyers). This home is none other than the heart of the love that surpasses all understanding, a love that relentlessly pursues us.  

 

Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros sing a very popular trendy song entitled Home Is Wherever I’m With You. To me, the lyrics have always shouted of God…the only One who can truly be our lasting place of refuge:

 

“Ah, home, let me go home

Home is wherever I’m with you.

Holy moly, me oh my

You’re the apple of my eye…

I’ve never loved one like you….

You’re my best friend

I scream it to the nothingness

There ain’t nothing that I need

Ah, home, let me go home

Home is wherever I’m with you.”

 

He also provides for our companionship; we are never left alone. Our Omnipresent God has promised: “Never will I leave you, & never will forsake you” (Deuteronomy 31:6, emphasis mine). In Romans 13:14, the Apostle Paul commands us to, “Clothe [ourselves] with the presence of the Lord Jesus Christ.” Within the heights & depths of our human experience, we may feel unseen at times regardless of who we share our lives with tangibly. He sees. He surrounds us with His Presence, unfailingly goes behind & before us. He hems us in (Psalm 139:6), lives with us, loves us, sees us, understands us. He is THE ultimate Witness to each of our journeys. As the Psalmist proclaims:

 

“You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue you know it completely, O Lord. You hem me in-behind and before….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 depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far ends 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, & the light becomes night around me. Even darkness will not hide me, the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you. For you created me in my inmost being, you knit me together in my mother’s womb.” (Psalm 139:3-5a,7-13).

 

Let us accept Jesus’ invitation to share our respective & collective journeys with Him. “Remain in Me, & I will remain in you” (John 15:3). In celebration of this gift, we can rejoice with the cry of the disciple John: “How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are!” (I John 3:1, emphasis mine).

 

Come to the Water: Dipping Our Toes-

Almost daily, I’m struck by how fiercely independent my nature is, and simultaneously, how desperately dependent I am. Having traveled internationally and lived as a single woman into my mid-thirties, I have a stubborn independent streak. Perhaps this is true of most North-Americans. We take pride in the things we can do for ourselves, in standing on our own two feet. At the same time, there aren’t many days where I’m not running to the feet of my Lord, eager for His companionship and strength, sure in the knowledge that I can’t make it without His help. Even at my best, when I feel successful and happy and connected, I’m often crying out for the fullness of His presence.

 

I’m not sure who it was that said if God’s love is an ocean, we spend our human lives walking along the seashore, dipping our toes in the waves that roll in. Sometimes we watch from a distance, at others we wade in ankle deep, and in our bravest moments, we go out for a short swim. Few of us learn to stay completely saturated and afloat. But the presence of the ocean is constant and undeniable, and there’s always, always more. In The Rhett Walker Band’s song “Come to the River,” they encourage us, “Come to the river; Oh and lay yourself down; Let your heart be found.”

 

Despite that stubborn independent streak of mine that keeps me dipping my toes when an ocean awaits, I know that my faithful God will bring the tide in each day and that He delights to come to my rescue. Psalm 93:2 says, “The seas have lifted up, O LORD, the seas have lifted up their voice….” His love will never fail. 

 

As I listened to a song by Lauren Daigle on her new album “Look Up Child,” it brought me to tears to think of how the King of the universe is so moved by my needs, He would move the world to “Rescue” me. She sings:

 
“You are not hidden
There’s never been a moment
You were forgotten
You are not hopeless
Though you have been broken
Your innocence stolen

I hear you whisper underneath your breath
I hear your SOS
Your SOS

I will send out an army
To find You in the middle of the darkest night
It’s true, I will rescue you

There is no distance
That cannot be covered
Over and over
You’re not defenseless
I’ll be your shelter
I’ll be your armor

I hear you whisper underneath your breath
I hear your SOS, your SOS

I will send out an army
To find You in the middle of the darkest night
It’s true, I will rescue you
I will never stop marching
To reach you in the middle of the hardest fight
It’s true, I will rescue you.”

 

Psalm 94: 9, 18-19 assures us, “Does He who implanted the ear not hear? Does He who formed the eye not see?… When I said, ‘My foot is slipping, your love, O LORD, supported me. When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought joy to my soul.” For each one of us in need of rescue today, for the helpless who don’t have a voice…we are seen, we are heard, we are known. He will rescue us.

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.  

Strong Hands, New Eyes…

Oscar Wilde once said, “It takes great courage to see the world in all its tainted glory, and still to love it.” This truth often strikes me, for, on a daily basis, I am amazed by the beauty and kindness and inspirational perseverance around me. On an equally frequent level, I am confronted with woundedness, ugliness, and hypocrisy. To hold the tension of this world’s  “tainted glory” well takes great balance and skill. Whatever and whoever there may be in my own path, I am quick to judge, to praise or condemn, to choose a personal response that has the potential to fall on either end of the spectrum.

 

Whether in line at the post office or the supermarket, driving, walking in the beautiful mountain town where I live, or working, I cross paths with many I choose to ignore. How many do I encounter every day who are longing to be seen or heard or helped in some way? Most often, I choose to believe that my schedule is too busy, my hands are too small and weak. I allow my eyes to cloud over and my mind to wander back to its self-preoccupation.

 

But what if my small hands are strong enough to offer a drink to the thirsty? What if doing so is the water my own soul needs? As David Foster Wallace says in his graduation speech entitled “This Is Water,” “Sometimes the hardest and most important realities are often the hardest to talk about.” In the petty frustrations of day-to-day living with narrow-sighted vision, it is only in choosing to look around with compassion that we find our own paths enlarged.

 

Just as  Jesus did, we are called, “…to preach good news to the poor…to bind up the brokenhearted…to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor…to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve…to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair” (Isaiah 61:1b-3a). God says that “…if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry and satisfy the needs of the oppressed, then your light will rise in the darkness, and your night will become like the noonday” (Isaiah 58:10).

 

Spanish-speaking artists Marcela Gándara and Jesus Adrian Romero have a beautiful song entitled “Dame Tus Ojos” (“Give Me Your Eyes”). In the song, they ask God, “Give me your eyes I want to see. Give me your words, I want to speak.” The song is a petition to be filled with the Spirit of God in every step. As we become Christ’s body and His church, may we literally be His hands and feet, see with His eyes, love with His heart.

***Photo Credits: Brainy Quote

It Is Well…

The past two years of my life have seen more change than the previous ten altogether. After a long waiting season, through an unexpected breaking process, God moved in both difficult and incredible ways. He asked me to release a teaching career that had been my passion and security in adulthood. He moved me back home and placed a man in my life to love and to marry. Then, the same month of our marriage, my husband’s mother was diagnosed with stage four ovarian cancer. Within four months, she passed away. We left everything to come to Puerto Rico, see her before she passed, and manage her estate. Months later, we remain here, searching for a solution for a disabled family member she cared for.

 

The more answers we seek, the more doors close. One slight move on the board changes the whole game, perhaps for the rest of our lives. We pray for guidance, but the heavens remain silent. I believe my Father is attentively at work in ways I can’t see or understand. I trust His hand, but sometimes, the weight of the unknown feels like enough to press me into the ground and bury me there. In the midst of it all, I feel ushered into the eye of the storm where one call is certain, “Surrender.”

 

The earth quakes and the storms come, and yet…it is well with my soul. I’ve thought often of the old hymn of that title, written by Horatio Spafford after he lost his family in an ocean storm. “When peace, like a river, attendeth my way, When sorrows like sea billows roll; Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say, It is well, it is well with my soul.” Bethel Music artist Kristene DiMarco recently rewrote the song with words that pierce my soul. “So let my soul go and trust in Him. The waves and wind still know His name.”

 

It Is Well
Bethel Music (Written by Kristen DiMarco) 


Grander earth has quaked before
Moved by the sound of His voice
Seas that are shaken and stirred
Can be calmed and broken for my regard
And through it all, through it all
My eyes are on You
And through it all, through it all
It is well
And through it all, through it all
My eyes are on You
And it is well with me
And far be it from me to not believe
Even when my eyes can’t see
And this mountain that’s in front of me
Will be thrown into the midst of the sea
And through it all, through it all
My eyes are on You
And through it all, through it all
It is well
And through it all, through it all
My eyes are on You
And it is well
It is well
So let go my soul and trust in Him
The waves and wind still know His name
So let go my soul and trust in Him
The waves and wind still know His name…

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

Woven…

I think I’ve mentioned before that one of my favorite poems is called The Tapestry, by Corrie Ten Boom. One stanza reads: “My life is but a weaving, between my God and me. I cannot choose the colors, He weaveth steadily. Ofttimes He weaveth sorrow, and I in foolish pride, forget He sees the upper, and I the under side.” This is such a profound poem and life insight to me, especially as written by a woman who survived the horrors of Auschwitz, but saw her family perish there. Though, they weren’t Jews themselves, they were imprisoned for providing “a hiding place”, as her memoir is entitled, to the Jews within Holland.

 

In my own relatively peaceful and unscathed life, still I find that the majority of life is lived as this beloved author painted it, looking at the messy underside of a weaving. The tapestry may indeed be masterful, but from the limited vantagepoint of earth, the larger picture is hard to see or understand. I cry out when a pattern I’ve begun to be able to see or become attached to is suddenly disrupted, or when one color is torn to make room for another that doesn’t seem to belong. I question why so many messy threads hang down and why it’s all such mayhem. I’m ever striving for a tidier picture than the one I have, and a semblance of control. It rarely makes any sense what is happening through my lens. Believing that it’s all a part of “a grand design” takes a giant “leap of faith” most days.

 
But then, there are those moments, when the master weaver beckons to me from the other side of the tapestry, and allows me to come and take a peek at His view. Just for a moment, I see the smile on His face and the twinkle in His eye. I get to take a seat with Him as He points and gestures to the pattern He’s designed and woven. And oh my, how it takes my breath away. A chill crawls down my spine and tears fill my eyes, for I can see that all along, there really has been a plan, and He really is an artist, and every stitch has been joined with the utmost care for its ultimate great beauty and purpose. It’s all sooo beautiful, and He’s been arranging and composing it all along. He looks into my eyes with joy, and I can only look back into His with regret. I’m filled with sorrow for the many moments, or if we’re really being honest here, the lifetime of moments, I’ve filled with distrust. He knows them all, and knew them all when He designed this glorious pattern for me, and yet still, He counted me worthy to be woven into the fabric of His plan. This inclusion, this composition, this revelation…these are His gifts to me. These are the manifestations of His love for me.