Weirdness

Is it weird to be wide awake at 3:39am? I think it's weird. I don't work a graveyard shift. I don't have small children. I didn't have caffeine before bed. 

Jillian, awakened for the usual pregnancy pit stop, was beckoned by the light and squinting weirdly, said, "Why are you still up?" I explained how I had gone to bed, couldn't sleep and had gotten back up hoping to recapture my earlier fatigue. "Oh....(weird)." Now it's quiet again except for the whirring of a distant bedroom fan. Even the water softener that screeched into action earlier has gone back into hibernation. And here I sit prattling on and on about not sleeping.

So what is it really that keeps the brain awake when the body is aching for sleep? I should ask my son. He thinks brains are fascinating. He also gets insomnia too. *Ha* To have just typed, "He also gets insomnia too" is weird as well, and is at least some evidence of my state of sleep deprivation. 

Now, I have done my share of interceding during these late-night episodes, so I do know that they can have some redeeming value. But tonight, though I could and might do just that, I'm still thinking that it's weird. When my husband asks me tomorrow...well, later, "What time did you come to bed?" I'll explain it all again, insert the requested data, and get that look from him again that says, "You're weird." 

I am weird. This has been pretty well established through various non-scientific means and there are many credible witnesses. But I would love a world where I could be weird in normal ways, during normal business hours. I'm tired of being the Walgreen's of Weirdness.

Rest

Today there is in me this deep ache of soul, and mind, and heart. A longing for rest of every kind. A longing to mold reality into something easier. Those carefree days of childhood. But was childhood really simpler? Perhaps the parts I like to remember. Yet even there I truthfully recall such uncertainty, stifling self-consciousness, family strife, days of dark thoughts and depression. Life always has been difficult...it's just seen in fuller reality as we grow older. Now hard things happen and I ponder them, pray over them, ideally seek to respond instead of react. The Spirit of God, which throughout the years has been taking more territory of my heart, mind, and soul, has more room to reign; to bring wisdom and comfort. Though He brings rest, He also brings a yearning for the next eternal journey where there will be no more sin, sickness, or sorrow. Where life is all of rest.

But this is now and not then. Carefree moments can still abound, but more by conscious choice than un-conscious childishness. Choice is the operative word. Will I choose doubt or faith? Anxiety or rest? Bitterness or forgiveness? Laziness or love? Despair and lies or peace and promises?

As I look back over many years, I see one thing that has refused to be snuffed out - hope. Hope because I have a God and Savior, Jesus Christ who is good and loving and strong. And I write this now to remind my feeble heart that He has always been there. This is literally true in a purely theological sense, but theology also points to a God of relationship. And in this sense He has always been there for me personally. Through those bumps and bruises of childhood. The days of the teenage tortured soul. (I would seem to jest here, but those were some of the hardest times. I still have that Bible that was my life raft during high school and college. Though I was not always faithful, the Lord never let go of me.) The long nights and days of raising children - wanting desperately to always do the right thing and praying desperately for God's grace to make up for my glaring deficiencies - whether they were seven or seventeen. The seasons of wondering if I really could be a wife, wanted to be a wife, wanted to be 'his' wife. Life is real and relentless. But my God is even more real. And He relentlessly pursues me, guides me, comforts me. His love is everlasting and His faithfulness is unfailing.

So today I try and fight this soul that longs to take flight toward all kinds of earthly relief. I pause, mid list, and cry out for the voice of the One-who-spoke-the-heavens-into-place to speak again today. To me. Jesus, only You can touch the deep ache of my heart. You see me and know me. What a comfort it is to know that we have lived this very kind of day together so many times before...and You have always breathed peace and strength to that flickering pilot light of hope. And so I know that today, when I choose to run, it will be into Your arms. You are the only rest that lasts.

Accomplishment

It came to mind this morning: What good will it be if our homes are clean and in order, but our hearts are in disarray? It kind of reminds me of the scripture that talks about physical training being of some value, but training in godliness being great gain. I want to be about the most needful things, but the outward things are so much easier to accomplish.

Perhaps the crux lies in that word accomplish. Accomplish is something that I do. I see the issue. I do something about it. I choose when, and how, and where. I choose to stop when I'm tired or when I've had enough. But that deeper work of my heart will require a surrendering of all these things. Accomplishment puts the spotlight on self. Surrender glorifies God alone. Accomplishment helps me feel in control. Surrender is, well, surrender - the antithesis of control - allowing Jesus to have complete sovereignty of my circumstances, my rights, my time. Allowing Him to order my circumstances to serve His purpose - to glorify Himself and work for my good. And sometimes His glory and my good look messy and hard outwardly, and on the inside, feel like being alternately crushed and comforted over and over and over...sometimes for weeks, months, even years. But I have come to know that this inward work - His accomplishment - is the best and the sweetest. Not just sometimes, but always.

I really don't know why this is on my mind this morning. Perhaps reviewing my mental list of "things to do?" Perhaps knowing that with a daughter who could give birth at anytime,plans for the day are only plans? I have no idea what each day or moment holds these days. I never really have had, but sometimes it just looked more like I was in control. Perhaps I'm just needing to recognize in a very tangible way today that He is calling me to surrender - not just outwardly, but inwardly. And that, while I can willfully agree to this call, it is His work to accomplish. "..for it is God who works in you to will and to act according to His good purpose." Phil 2:13

I do know that whenever I allow my inward gaze to rest on the One who, while I was yet a sinner, died for me - who, though He was reviled, beaten, jeered at, and spit upon, did not defend himself, but gave Himself up so that I might be able to stand in glorious intimacy with Him, the ugliness of my sinful heart covered over, justified, the debt of punishment for my sin fully paid - I am deeply humbled. As He breathed His last breath He proclaimed, "It is finished!" He accomplished everything for me....and for you. So, "in view of God's mercy" - His incredible mercy - I do long to "offer my body as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God." This is my "spiritual act of worship." (Romans 12:1).

Lord, thank you for forgiveness. Thank you for a life in You that is so rich, and hard, and wondrous, and so full of joy. Inward joy. And outward, too. You know how I love to laugh. You have accomplished all that is needful in my life and I know that, because of this, you will be faithful to complete the work that You have  begun. I pray that Your fruit will grow to bring sweetness and nourishment to others. What more could I hope to accomplish?

Frustrated With Ease

Most of us live in such relative ease. Yes, there are pressures and the ravages of sin that invade our lives. But other than illness, most of us have never had to fight for our very lives: For shelter from the elements, for our next meal or adequate clothing, for safety from people who want to kill us because we're an enemy due to culture or faith. And in all this we often only long for more ease, a better address, and more food. Fast! Now! Super-sized! We chase the latest fashions as if our "lives” depend on them, instead of just our pride. And all around the world - and in the US as well - people are fighting, and fleeing, and festering in places where they have no hope. No hope of physical safety. No hope of emotional safety. No hope of spiritual safety.

As Christians the word tells us that we have everything we need for life and godliness through our knowledge of Jesus Christ (2 Pet.1:3) Do we believe that? Even in our country most of us have such room to breath - physically, emotionally, and spiritually. But often all we want is more air for ourselves; more ease for ourselves. More, more, more! Do we let God's riches fill our every need? Really soak them in and allow them to satiate us with wonder, thankfulness, and a deep satisfaction of heart, mind, and soul? Do we let His truth define our need? Or do we surround ourselves with people and props and playthings so that we can somehow declare "I don't need you God! All these things are filling me. And, by the way, can I have more?”

In Christ we have been set free from the bondage of sin, and we are heirs with Him of all the riches of heaven. This is amazing! It is not “blah, blah, blah.” It is amazing! It is enough! It is all we need! Everything else of blessing is ‘gravy’.

Filled with this knowledge and literally filled with Your life, send us out, Lord! Let us be willing to be sent, to give ourselves away, to be broken, to be poured out. Help us to live lives that ease suffering and despair; that “preach good news to the poor…proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight to the blind (and) release the oppressed” (Luke 4:18). Let us “throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.” (Hebrew 12:1)

Lord, You promise to fill us with everything we need for body and soul. Will you also fill our hearts with love and gratitude and grace enough to overflow through our lives and our prayers upon a weary world. We need more of You. Not to hoard for ourselves as we huddle in heavenly entitlement, but to ease pain, to lift up, to breath hope into lives far and near.

Will You start with me?

My Sister...as written to LaVella Mae

This is just a few slivers of memories. I realized after I wrote it on a whim to LaVella, that I wanted to keep it, just like I want to keep my sister - forever. So I dedicate this to my beautiful sister, Michele. (10.05.09) 

"When I was little, I was Batman and my sister was Robin, even though she was just a baby. We did everything together. Dolls, Play Doh, Barbis, making fake fingernails with Elmer's glue (yes, we did). 

As we grew, she discovered that it was very easy to hide from me and scare me to death - hiding around a corner when I got up at night to go to the bathroom, sneaking up real close to my face as we lay in the dark talking, causing me terror at every turn. (Well, that's an exaggeration, but it sounded cool.) She also never let me borrow her clothes. 

But then we discovered dancing. Not ballet or anything. Just 'rockin' out!' Endless hours were spent with Three dog Night, The Doobies, The Commodores, Earth Wind and Fire...and our endless collection of 45s. Back in the 70s, we had ALL the moves. And she had the Farrah Fawcett haircut. We played softball together - cuz we could throw and hit as good as the boys, football, foos ball, and spent hours laying in the sun (cuz that's what silly girls did in the 70s). 

There’s not much else to say. She never did let me borrow her clothes without a fight. But we were and are sisters to the end. No one else would ever have rocked out to Van Halen in flannel pajamas with me and shared hopes, dreams, and secret loves in the bedroom we shared until high school. Sisters are the best. But I don’t need to tell you that. 

Have a lovely day, LaVella Mae."

Thoughts On Autumn

Autumn reminds me of our life in Christ. 

It is the season of change and anticipation...and preparing to die. With the memory of the life and victory of summer still warm, we rest and revel in the change of seasons; the refreshing coolness that hints of winter. 

Oh winter! So harsh! But also that place where our Father's faithfulness is proved; where all that must, dies. Yet death has no eternal sting for the one who is found in Christ, for He will breathe life into the muck as winter thaws - that awkward time of drab and damp. 

This is where the waiting seems eternal, yet so much is happening in the deep places of soul and soil. Can we wait for it? Will we hope for that new spring and summer yet unseen? And then, not holding too tightly, yield again to autumn?

Autumn is a time of thankfulness for blessing and bounty, and of knowing that we cannot bask in the glories of this life, these works, and these revelations forever. He is always doing a new thing. Autumn is here. We were never meant to live in perpetual summer. 

Only the seed that falls to the ground and dies bears much fruit.