Fresh morning sun peered into my eyes as I swung my car onto the main road in town. I cruised toward a church I had never entered, realising—as I pulled between the mustard-coloured lines to park—that I did not know where to go. I stood uncertainly, looking back and forth between the looming church and the sad-looking parish centre behind it. I made the decision to poke my head in at the parish centre, as the lovely church looked a bit too imposing to enter without someone by my side. A slip of paper on the glass door confirmed that I had chosen correctly. Skirting the infant baptism class, I veered toward a room sparsely filled with ladies of various shapes, hair colours, and backgrounds.
Walking into a group of persons is intimidating enough for me, let alone a group of grown-up women belonging to a denomination I'm unfamiliar with, all of whom I had never met in my life. Yet, I was determined to attend this morning of prayer and meditation as soon as I had heard about it. That determination walked me through the double doors and to the first table where someone caught my eye and smiled. I chatted with a woman while waiting for the tea water to boil. I introduced myself to the ladies at the table where I set my things. I probably looked like a wide-eyed protestant from a mile away, but they were all kind enough to explain things for me when I asked. I tactfully neglected to ask why women's gatherings never supply protein-rich breakfasts, hoping the fruit and assorted breads would keep my morning appetite satisfied.
Soon, we filed over to the spacious church in little knots of chattering women. My tentative, shy feeling whisked away as I stepped under those dark, wooden rafters and my nostrils caught a strong scent of incense. Dust-brown pews invited us to sit in the sunlight sifting down from high windows. I chose a spot a bit apart from the kind ladies I had shared breakfast with. Quiet and reflection are hard for me to practise in close proximity to other persons. We practised two variations of lectio divina, meditating on a passage of Scripture from Isaiah, and then on the calling of Matthew, using a Caravaggio painting. We sang a few hymns in English and in Latin. I journalled and prayed and reflected over more Scripture. We were guided through a much slower and more deliberate Mass and celebration of the Eucharist.
Over and again during the morning I was drawn to a stream of soft light pouring onto the altar floor. At first I could see lingering incense smoke illumined in that shaft. While the aroma of incense dissipated throughout our time in that hushed sanctuary, it did not leave my memory. I remembered how the light had caught the final tendrils of sweet-smelling smoke as I stepped in through that dark doorway. The beam of light had taken the invisible trail of vapour, giving it form and substance. I thought about how our prayers are to rise to the Lord as a sweet aromatic waft of incense. That is all we are, a breath of wind, a curl of blue smoke, nearly invisible—until the light rounds out our contours and gives us substance. Only the Light, Jesus Himself, makes our prayers visible, real, and dimensional. We—who are but a puff of smoke and then we are gone—He makes solid, visible creatures. He rounds out our spirits, souls, and selves by shining His light not on us, but through us. "...Blaze again like fire in every leaf", says Malcolm Guite. It is the Light shining through the smoke, through the leaf, that shows the substance of the thing pierced by the Light.
Truth is multi-façeted, like a luminous jewel. This day the truth I saw was that both our prayers and our selves are but a vapour, then they are gone. Both need the Eternal Light to shine through them to make them solid, real. Like the ever diminishing scent of incense, our prayers fade and need to be re-kindled. We must daily speak joy. We must continue to cry the mercy of God. We must bring our requests again to God...Not because He forgets, but because we do. We so quickly forget our wraith-like wreathes of praise, the persistence in our petitions, the Kindness that leads us to repentance. Our prayers either rise into the Light Himself, or they flit away into the rafters, losing substance and depth.
As I stepped out into the crisp air and noon-day sun, my eyes re-focussed from cool semi-darkness to overwhelming brightness. The sunlight that had peeked into my green eyes in the morning, now laughingly showed me the world boldly, clearly. The light revealed the depth and the contours of all around me. Light in our world only shows what is there, but I am learning that the Light Himself makes things real by shining upon them, through them. I climbed into my car and tilted her toward home, reflecting on my need for the Light to illumine and enliven me.
Do You Listen to Your Heart, or Does it Listen to You?
Have
you ever realised that Disney princess films and pop love songs have the
same mantra? Think about it, they all whisper the same line: listen to your heart. There is even a classic 80's song by that name. Some of the lines are as follows:
Sometimes you wonder if this fight is worthwhile
The precious moments are all lost in the tide, yeah
They're swept away and nothing is what it seems,
the feeling of belonging to your dreams
Listen to your heart
when he's calling for you Listen to your heart there's nothing else you can do...
There is nothing else
you can do... Really? Are we simply trapped in the dichotomy of
listening to our hearts or listening to outside opinions? As with most
dichotomies presented to us, this one is false. We do not have to listen
to our hearts to be happy (happiness is temporary, anyway), nor do we
have to live under someone else's idea of success. When life does not go
as planned, when we feel the pressure of needing to achieve the
American dream, or we feel miserable because we have not achieved some
idea of love, success, and affluence, we absolutely should not
listen to our hearts. We should not listen to the world, or even
well-meaning Christians breathing out 'feel better' pop psychology.
What other option do we have, if we ought not listen to the world or to our hearts? We need to tell
our hearts. We need to speak Truth to our hearts and minds, even when
we feel miserable. The most oft quoted reason for unhappiness I hear
from my friends is, "I don't have a boyfriend!" Is a spouse your idea of
success? Have you made a good thing an idol? Do not wallow in the
misery of what you have not. Speak Truth to your heart, "He who finds a
wife finds a good thing," says the writer of Proverbs. Marriage is good. But if you are
not married, then singleness is your garment of glory.
I
want you to be free from the concerns of this life. An unmarried man
can spend his time doing the Lord’s work and thinking how to please him.But a married man has to think about his earthly responsibilities and how to please his wife.His
interests are divided. In the same way, a woman who is no longer
married or has never been married can be devoted to the Lord and holy in
body and in spirit. But a married woman has to think about her earthly
responsibilities and how to please her husband.I
am saying this for your benefit, not to place restrictions on you. I
want you to do whatever will help you serve the Lord best, with as few
distractions as possible.
~ St. Paul, 1 Corinthians 7
Perhaps
you are in true lament, a valid thing for Christians to do. You are not
wallowing, you are deeply lamenting the loss of a person, a dream, a
good thing, or the way your relationship with God used to be. Speak Truth
to your heart in this, too. Lamentation is not a sin, but in the midst
of grieving, remind your heart to hope. The valid lament:
For I used to go with the multitude; I went with them to the house of God, With the voice of joy and praise, With a multitude that kept a pilgrim feast.
Why are you cast down, O my soul?
And why are you disquieted within me?
The equally valid Truth spoken to the heart/soul:
Hope in God, for I shall yet praise Him For the help of His countenance.
(Psalm 42:4-5, NKJV)
We may not be yet in the place where we have hope in God, and certainly
not in a place of rejoicing. However, we must speak Truth to ourselves: hope in God, for I shall again praise Him,
as the English Standard Version words it. The Psalmist is reminding his
own heart of how he used to joyfully praise God. Yet it is no longer he
who is so full of praise that he is at the head of the people going to
God's house. Does he sit down an kick and scream? No, he tells his heart
to hope in God, for at some point in the future he will again be able
to Praise Him.
Perhaps you are in the midst of
many crises all at once. I know many persons who are in that place -
health troubles, family frustrations, financial crunches, and cars
breaking down are just part of their stress. In that place I am tempted
to say, "God, a little kindness, some ray of hope would be great right
about now. Look at all I am going through, I deserve a little help." Yet
I do not dare to believe that I deserve anything from God. All
is gift, as a friend of mine told me recently. It is true, all is gift. I
cannot win God's goodness or kindness. I cannot earn my redemption and
salvation. I do not deserve any good thing from the hand of God. All He
gives is a gift, and all I can do is to receive that gift with an open
(not grasping) hand. This I must remind my heart, when it would rather
think it was entitled to good things.
Finally, after you tell
your heart what is True, do not become myopic. Do not dwell on how right
you were and how wrong your friend was in an argument. Do not sit on
the couch feeling overwhelmed when there is laundry to do, or dishes to
wash. Speak Truth to your heart and then do something. Sometimes that
means taking a long walk -- without a friend, phone, or iPod. Sometimes it
means cleaning your house. And sometimes it means looking at the trees
and the sky, simply listening to the silence.
Do you ever have one of those weeks that is so busy it feels like two weeks in one, but when you reach the end of it you can't figure out where your time went? This week was just that sort for me.
Though I am only 'part-time,' I put in nearly 40 hours at work. This gave me the chance to talk with my supervisor and a co-worker for several hours during some projects, to listen to 'A Christmas Carol' twice (two different versions), and to sing a myriad of Christmas carols (as I work by myself most of the time). I read a book in a couple of evenings; had two or three long phone conversations; went to see some fantastic Christmas lights (timed to music) with my neighbours; got to ride in my friend's classic Mustang (amazing!); organised a discussion group on Roger Scruton's 'Why Beauty Matters*'; spent an enthralling evening in the Air Force Academy Chapel listening to Handel's Messiah; and spent a lovely Saturday with my 'roommates' celebrating Christmas.
I could probably write several posts about Scruton's documentary, at least one about the Messiah (which could even overlap with Scruton's work), and probably a handful of posts about Christmas with the girls yesterday.
However, I want to write about thankfulness. I have been hounded in conversations, letters, Scripture, books read, et cetera to consider the rôle of gratitude in my daily life and character. And that is just this week!
Thankfulness ought to mark a Christian's life thoroughly. Yet I find myself too often like the Israelites, much to my chagrin, complaining and grumbling. Who am I kidding though, about what can I complain?
-- I am on the upswing from a cold and have realised how wonderful the 350+ days of the year are when my head isn't foggy, my nose doesn't run incessantly, and I can taste my food and enjoy it thoroughly.
-- After reading a book this week where one of the characters lost his legs in the war, I began to appreciate my legs and feet much more (especially since I'm on my feet for hours every day at work).
-- Upon taking a brisk walk in 12º weather this morning, I was extremely grateful for my heater, electric blanket, working stove, and mug after mug of hot tea.
-- Earlier this week our maintenance man, Anil, fixed my leaking tub faucet, and I was reminded of how grateful I am for 1) running water in my house, 2) hot water, 3) water pressure in my shower and sinks, and 4) clean water. Some countries don't have any of these things.
-- I'm also thankful that Summit employs a full-time maintenance crew. Some of whom shovelled the walks this morning, even though it is their day off.
-- I found Irish Swiss cheese (an oxymoron?), raspberries, and hummus on great sales this week, along with the things I needed for some Christmas gifts. 'Small' things like that really make my day!
-- Also, I have a job that pays my bills, yet gives me time to pursue reading, spending time with others, travelling, and my book-buying and tea-drinking habits.
-- Extravagant pleasures: my own computer and wi-fi in my home.
Yet all of these things are not even the greatest gifts I am thankful for this week. I enjoyed a couple of hours talking with my dear Oxford flatmate, Kasey; conversations with my parents and both of my sisters; and enjoyed our discussion -and the insight offered- during the reading of the Christmas story with the roommates yesterday. I also enjoyed a long letter from my friend Danielle (thank you!), and several e-mails from various friends.
I just finished reading the book of Acts this week. Often Paul had his life threatened, was beaten, stoned, nearly drowned, etc., yet in all those things (even being in prison for two years before being brought to trial!) he was full of rejoicing. He found all those things worthwhile to endure in order that the news about Jesus could be spread. I want to be like that, and I know I'm not. Yet I am thankful for the desire to change and grow. Now to walk in that way...
There is much more that I am thankful for, but I will save it for my next blog post. Until then, I leave you with a Muppet-y thankfulness!
*As a note, if you choose to watch Scruton's documentary, please be forewarned that there are many graphic and disturbing images throughout the film.
ALMIGHTY
God, Father of all mercies, we, Thine unworthy servants, do give Thee
most humble and hearty thanks for all Thy goodness and loving-kindness
to us and to all men; We bless Thee for our creation,
preservation, and all the blessings of this life; but above all, for Thine
inestimable love in the redemption of the world by our Lord Jesus Christ;
for the means of grace, and for the hope of glory.
And, we beseech Thee,
give us that due sense of all Thy mercies, that our hearts may be unfeignedly
thankful; and that we show forth Thy praise, not only with our lips, but
in our lives, by giving up our selves to Thy service, and by walking before Thee in holiness and righteousness all our days; through Jesus Christ
our Lord, to whom, with Thee and the Holy Ghost, be all honour and glory,
world without end. Amen.
We prayed this prayer during Evensong tonight. Much of the content gave me reason to pause and think, though the service swirled on around me.
"...give us that due sense of all Thy mercies, that our hearts may be unfeignedly
thankful..."
Am I unfeignedly thankful? Without pretence, without contrivance do I thank God for little things? The orange rosebush or purple allium along my morning walk are cause for praise. As are the sweet-scented lilacs, spicy poppies, and soft snowy dogwood petals. May their beauty cause me to bow the knee in worship to the One who is Beauty.
Often I wonder if I am truly grateful for the things most of us take for granted. I certainly appreciate hearing out of both ears clearly now, after having a blocked ear for a few weeks not long ago. And I am often thankful for running water and water pressure in my shower, having had times without both. There is a greater appreciation for a 'common' thing when I have lost that thing for a time. How sad when the separation of death causes one to realise how much they loved another!
I pondered, too, being thankful in all things - in trials, loss, suffering, and pain. I have been reading some thoughts by Amy Carmichael on her response to a great injury that befell her. The injury caused her to be bed-ridden for the last 20 years of her life. She could have been bitter. She had times of frustration. However, she chose to let God use that loss as a gain - for His glory. She trusted His goodness in all things. Miss Carmichael was able to give thanks as Paul said:
Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, in everything give thanks; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. (I Thessalonians 5:16-18)
~ ~ ~
"...and that we show forth Thy praise, not only with our lips, but
in our lives, by giving up our selves to Thy service..."
On my kitchen window I have a line, paraphrased from a prayer written in the front of my Bible. The prayer is this:
Lord, I give up all my own plans and purposes, all my own desires and
hopes, and accept Thy will for my life. I give myself, my life, my all
utterly to Thee, to be Thine forever. Fill me and seal me with Thy Holy
Spirit. Use me as Thou wilt. Send me where Thou wilt, and work out Thy
whole will in my life at any cost, now and forever.~ Betty Scott Stam
That last line is rather frightening. Am I willing for God to send me where He wilt? Am I willing to give God my life at any cost, or are some things, dreams, or persons too dear to really mean that?
The General Thanksgiving calls for much the same as Mrs. Stam's prayer: that I might show forth God's praise in my whole life, sacrificing myself to His service. Sometimes His service is pure bliss. Sometimes it is weary drudgery. Other times sacrifice is lonely or painful. Often, surrender is freeing, if we would but do it. There's the rub - am I willing to give up myself to God's service, or will I serve my flesh?
~ ~ ~
"...by walking before Thee in holiness and righteousness all our days; through Jesus Christ
our Lord..."
Holiness and Righteousness all our days... Does anyone even believe a person can be those things? Many persons in Scripture were called 'righteous' persons, and we know they were not sinless. So it seems that a 'normal' person can be righteous. Further, the Bible commands believers to be holy as God Himself is Holy; and Peter calls Christians 'holy priests'.
Note how the prayer book says this holiness and righteousness is accomplished: 'through Jesus Christ our Lord'. It is not our own goodness spoken of, or our own efforts that make us holy. It is Jesus Christ working in and through us that brings about change. This is only done when we lay down our wills (now, at any cost), and ask Him to be very present at work in us.
Are YOU unfeignedly thankful?
Is your life showing forth God's praise?
Are you allowing God to purify you with His Holiness, and to make you righteous?
The LORD has done great things for us, and we are filled with joy.
~ Psalm 126:3 (NiV)
What has the LORD done for you today that has filled you with joy?
Here is my list from the weekend:
Good Summit friends from across the country converging in Colorado
Sunset in Estes Park over jagged, snow-capped peaks across a still lake
Bouldering with awesome friends
Photo shoots
RED maple trees at Celestial Seasonings factory, and all around Boulder in general
Extreme yellow cottonwood-type trees along the river
Good chilli at Snarf's sammich shop
Fantastic conversations
Fun and hoopla@ the Stonestreet's
Laughing so hard that we cried @ Savannah's awesome stories
Really, really good food - especially avocados
Reading/Finishing Perelandra
Good hymns and service at St. George's this morning + Middle School FUSE ;)
Phone calls from good friends needing a listening ear and advice (and the same friends giving good advice and exhibiting humility)
Amazing cups of tea with cream and sugar
Liverwurst sammiches w/avocados
John Michael Talbot and Michael Card music to chill out with in the evening
Time to write letters
A heated blanket on my comfy bed, and just having a bed!
My car running like a champion through the Mountains and the Beautiful drive to/through Estes Park (and the moosen we saw in the woodsen!)
Fun hikes and lovely walks
Cold nights with clear skies and no moon; perfect for viewing the stars
My friends Joseph and Edna who always bless me with good conversation and sweet, unlooked-for gifts
Considering and mulling over the fact that at a literal point in history, God wasn't a man and that at one specific time He set aside His rightful glory and splendour to be clothed in flesh to share man's smudge and smell
Psalm 126 (check out the end after the above verse... Soooo good!)
Ah! And there is a new week ahead to gather more realisations that God has done great things for us...
I suppose it's time to refresh my blog to reflect all of the changes that are happening in my life. A map in the background is fitting. Until now my life has been charted; from here on out it will continue to be recorded in scribblings of ink. The jottings of words, the ink of photos - colours vibrant, some, shades of grey - will certainly be used to capture whatever is left of my time on this rolling sphere.
A map is apropos in other ways, as well. I'm about to make my first venture out of the country. I am glad that my first passport usage will be to England rather than some other part of the American continent.
Yes, the winds of change have blown away frustrating and confusing relationships, the routine of life, and have brought more favourable opportunities. Or perhaps I should say, the One behind the wind has done this. In the span of four days I went from, "This is my pretty chill Colorado life" to, "I'm going to Oxford!"
The story is one for fairytales or those books where you think, "Yeah, too bad that doesn't happen in real life." An anonymous donor offers to send the house-cleaning girl to Oxford. The folks in Oxford make an exception for the girl's lack of college credit. The girl is shocked (of course, who wouldn't be?). She buys a plane ticket to England. The mother of the girl has a friend who offers to purchase a computer for the girl. And then reality hits, the stacks of books grow and time shrinks. The girl has to learn how to manage time well (after many mishaps) and gets to know the Maker of the Story better in the process.
At least, that's the rough sketch. It really is a fantastic story. I wouldn't believe it... If it hadn't happened to me. The stack of books certainly is real. The plane ticket truly is purchased. The adventure has only just begun. I cannot wait to read this entry in 5 months knowing what I know then, rather than knowing what I know now.
Yet I'm glad to be here now... Glad to be in the state of awe and praise to the Author of a story so incredible it must be real life. My life. I think I shall muse on this and turn out the light on yet another wonderful day.
"Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art... It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that give value to survival. "
~ C. S. Lewis
I quote Lewis on this particular point after yet another phone call with my best friend. She has been in on her fair share of phone calls from me in her lifetime. To count such calls would be like numbering the stars or the ever changing number of hairs on our red heads.
Brittany and I have known one another for at least 11 years. That means we've seen each other through our worst moments - also known as high school. We've seen the good, the bad, and the bed-head after sleepovers. (Oy, and those wretched plaid shirts I used to sport!)
Without Brittany my understanding of the LORD would be quite different. I might miss His grace and compassion. I might not understand what Scripture means when it says "A friend loveth at all times..." or "Forgive as God in Christ forgave you."
"Friendship is an obstetric art; it draws out our richest and deepest resources; it unfolds the wings of our dreams and hidden indeterminate thoughts; it serves as a check on our judgments, tries out our new ideas, keeps up our ardor, and inflames our enthusiasm."
~ A. G. Sertillanges
There have been graduations, commissionings, Summit days, Steak and Shake hats at midnight, fireworks, book conventions, awkward statements (those would be mine, oops), hysterical laughs, bitter tears, disappointments, hopes, fears, let downs, inspirations, on-line chats for hours, and of course, those aforementioned phone calls.
Sometimes it can be easy to forget what you have until it's gone. I have discovered that too many times in my life. This time I'm thankful for what Ihave: a best friend through thick and thin.
Finally, after you tell
your heart what is True, do not become myopic. Do not dwell on how right
you were and how wrong your friend was in an argument. Do not sit on
the couch feeling overwhelmed when there is laundry to do, or dishes to
wash. Speak Truth to your heart and then do something. Sometimes that
means taking a long walk -- without a friend, phone, or iPod. Sometimes it
means cleaning your house. And sometimes it means looking at the trees
and the sky, simply listening to the silence. ALMIGHTY God, Father of all mercies, we, Thine unworthy servants, do give Thee most humble and hearty thanks for all Thy goodness and loving-kindness to us and to all men; We bless Thee for our creation, preservation, and all the blessings of this life; but above all, for Thine inestimable love in the redemption of the world by our Lord Jesus Christ; for the means of grace, and for the hope of glory.
