Thank You, God!

I just wanted to use today's post to say,

As I said in yesterday's post, I did the "slow thing"-- slowing down and enjoying life; experiencing the moment, and relationships; but most of all, just being aware of God throughout my day. I gotta tell you, God can get up in my busyness any day! By the time I laid my head down at the end of the day, I had more "to-dos" crossed off my list -- Great! -- but I was at peace. No lying awake, continuing to think of things I could have done, should have done. Relaxed. Being blessed, and actually feeling that way! I spent time with Mom, spent time with friends, did some chores, took care of some nastiness with the government -- quickly (Praise God!), ran an errand, and a few other things; and I spent time with Jesus. I felt Him with me all day, and spoke to Him throughout. And best of all, I did as I wished -- I recounted all He did, rather than all I had done. So, thank You, God!

When God Gets in Your Busyness

Today I am trying something new: slowing down.

More than a year ago, my daughter's family was up for a visit. My grandson was constantly moving, constantly finding something to do. My son-in-law marveled at his perpetual activity, "He's so busy." Before I could form a single word in agreement, he added, "like his Gramma." Huh?! That has stayed with me ever since.

Just this past weekend, I was giving Scott the rundown on my plans for the day; I said, "Well, I really wanted to get ___ finished so I can sit down and relax." He finished my thought, not in quite the same way I would have, "Or so you can find something else to do." Ouch!

I love to pray, I really do. I'm just not very fond of putting away distraction long enough to do it. I want my prayer life to be more; so this is why I am listening to a series called "Prayer Prescriptions" by Dr. Michael Youssef, and this is why I was praying about my prayer life this morning.  As I prayed, the Holy Spirit took me to a very strange memory.

I used to smoke. I wasn't an Olympic smoker, like some, but I could hold my own -- especially when I was drinking. Alcohol and cigarettes just seemed to be meant for one another. I could smoke more than a pack in an evening, and not even realize it. Now, I'm pretty sure I enjoyed the first couple, but the others were consumed mechanically, without thought. Somehow, the nicotine or the ritual of holding something in my hand as I socialized, had assumed preeminence; relaxation and taste were no longer of consideration.

Now, that may not resonate with you, but God had my attention. He wasn't yet finished, though.

My eating habits came to mind. An issue a few years back left me with damaged vocal cords. Our vocal cords play an important part in protecting our lungs from the things we eat and drink. My "new normal" forced me to eat slowly and carefully so I did not aspirate. As time went on, the muscles surrounding my larynx began to compensate for all my vocal cords could no longer do, and my eating and drinking almost returned completely to what it was before -- shoveling. "Get it in; get it done." Strange thing was, I had enjoyed sitting at the table reading or listening to music and savoring my food.

And then, there was my "To Do" list. Yeah, He went there. My son-in-law's words. My husband's words. God was really in my business this morning.

Because He loves me. Because He wants all of me. Because He has promised that whatever happens when I love and follow Him will work for His glory and my good. Because an effective prayer life is a developing relationship: transparency and reverence, full disclosure and attentive listening. Because by breezing through life at warp speed, always looking for something else to do, I am not only missing out on the journey, but I am filling a void with something other than God.

I want to be able to lie down each night and thank God for all He did, not for all I got done. I want to be compulsive for God -- not lists, or food, or shopping, or sports, or any other thing. And He wants me to be compulsive for Him, every slow, thoughtful minute of His day.

Doing God's Work Just Might Be God at Work in You

"I don't have a problem doing God's work; I just have a problem dealing with it." 

My husband uttered these words to me a few years back. I knew what he meant then, and I can still remember the frustration he was feeling. Working for God is not always easy. Or clean. Or simple. Or straightforward. Or without a great deal of hidden cost. Working for God can be extremely messy.

Mark 10:17-22, records the response of a rich young king who asked Jesus what steps were necessary to inherit eternal life. Foregoing a discussion of this young man's punch list approach to faith, or his arrogance, let's skip down to verse 21, and the final "requirement" that stopped him I his tracks:

"Then Jesus, looking at him, loved him, and said to him, 'One thing you lack: Go your way, sell whatever you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, take up the cross, and follow Me.'”

The following verse reveals the sad outcome:

"But he was sad at this word, and went away sorrowful, for he had great possessions."

This man might have been young, but he wasn't born yesterday. Sell? Give? Heavenly treasure? A cross, and a preacher who was admittedly homeless (Matthew 8:20)? That didn't sound very appealing, or even very wise. Of course, this man saw eternal life as just another thing to possess, like the robes, or livestock, or jewels he already had in his possession; but even if he had truly been seeking some spiritual encounter, throwing away all he had and wandering the countryside hardly sounded like the right way to do that.

But real service, real surrender to the Lord requires giving all we have -- including our will, including our way. "The Lord's work" is by definition, what He designs, what He calls us to do.

We used to drive our ten year-old car and our twenty year-old truck to the food bank where we served. We'd call one another on our outdated flip phones to discuss our dinner plans afterward; it usually involved some discussion of the scant leftovers we had sitting in our fridge, and maybe, a store brand frozen pizza. Late afternoon would arrive, and we'd leave the food bank, stopping on the way to deliver to a few clients. At our modest little row home in a modest little neighborhood, Scott would linger in the shower, his back aching from a years-old injury; I would barely make it though dinner, exhaustion from putting in a full night's work prior to serving others all day finally catching up to me.

What a wonderful feeling to be used up in such a way! That's what service is all about! Gratifying! Fulfilling! There's almost a romanticism to it! Doing the Lord's work! What a privilege.

But there was more. Some of the clients pulled up in vehicles just a couple years old. Most busied themselves waiting for their turn by playing games on their brand new smart phones. Others complained, whining about how long it was taking to get their free food. I'd schlep boxes of groceries to their cars where their able-bodied 16 year-old sons were standing about smoking cigarettes and talking on their smartphones about the latest gaming system they spent all day worshiping. And their daughters? Uggs, Juicy Couture, need I say more? When we delivered, most clients lived in better houses in better neighborhoods than the one we were going home to; and their live-in boyfriends would make some crack about having to move out now so Girlfriend wouldn't get kicked off the free food list. "Thank yous" were rare. And when I shopped throughout the week to restock food bank shelves, the head of the program told me explicitly name brand products were preferred because "clients won't take generics."

Our definition of "hunger" and our methods of "helping" in this country notwithstanding, this is what doing the Lord's work looked like for a period in our life. Don't get me wrong, there were those desperately in need and as equally grateful; but those who obviously knew how to play the system, who traveled from one giveaway to the next and called their friends to "get over here, they've got turkeys!" -- those were the folks who really made serving messy; who really made the Lord's work hard to deal with.

After many late night discussions about the program and its obvious faults, Scott and I believed God had a great love for these people, and wanted us to love them as well. They were facing a much more nefarious type of hunger, a hunger they didn't even know they had, a hunger that Jesus fully satisfies; it had more to do with what was in their hearts than what was on their plates. It is because of this we agreed to stay until God removed us in His time -- and He did. Although working for God can be messy and unromantic, it is never without purpose, and "dealing with it" can be God's way of dealing with us. And just like the rich young ruler, God had a heavenly treasure for us if we simply laid down ourselves.

Lessons for a Master from The Master

We are on Day Three of our first drama of the new year: our dog, Bishop has sliced open one of his feet. Each time he applies weight to that foot, it reverses whatever healing has begun, and his wound begins to bleed again. Because of this, our obvious goals are healing and preventing infection; so we clean it and wrap it twice a day, and do all we can to make sure he stays off of it.

Now, just a little note about Bishop: he is a momma's boy. If I walk from one room to the very next, Bishop comes with me. In caring for our home throughout the day, I must roundtrip the stairs at least seven or eight times; Bishop keeps pace with me each time. Trying to keep this faithful little shadow from standing or walking is virtually impossible; it has required the watchfulness of both Scott and I for the past few days.

This morning, as Scott headed off to work, I knew I'd be spending my day planted in one spot as much as sanity would allow -- anything to keep my little man off his feet. Turns out, that was much harder than I anticipated. In addition to my compulsion to eradicate "to-dos" from my list, Bishop is feeling a little better -- either that, or he is tiring of this new sedentary lifestyle. He has attempted to follow me from one end of the kitchen table to the next. He rises from his bed every half hour or so, just waiting for me to give him permission to leave it. And each time he has ignored my command to stay, sprinting toward what I'm certain is a complete reversal of all we've endured. I've noticed his wound does not bleed through as quickly as it has in the last couple of days.

Funny thing about this brain God has given me, I found a few lessons in all of that:

Lesson #1: Problem areas require extra care.
The nature and location of Bishop's injury requires us to be extra vigilant that it might heal quickly and completely. We all have those things in life that really push our buttons. Things that may reach deeply into our past or former experiences, things we have found difficult to release, things that cripple us or cause us to really lose our minds. Those are the things that require extra care.

Matthew 17 gives the account of Jesus' disciples, approached one day by a man seeking healing for his demon-tormented son. The disciples were unable to cast this demon out. Jesus explained to them, this was not your run-of-the-mill issue; this one required special measures, prayer and fasting. Problem areas require extra care.

Lesson #2: Helping others can be God's way of dealing with us.
I marvel at the way Bishop is constantly moving. Lately, I have not been able to consider that without this voice of conviction that sears my lips closed: "Bishop follows you everywhere," it whispers. Oops.

Recently, God has, by His grace, had His finger on my busyness. My busyness causes me to ignore the many ways He wants to speak to me and the things He wants to teach me. My busyness causes me to put my relationships on the back burner. Sitting these last couple of days, and forcing Bishop to stay quiet has been a constant reminder to me of what God wants to do. Helping one anxious little dog has been God's way of dealing with me.

Lesson #3: A few seconds of foolishness can put our healing at risk.
Bishop appears to be feeling more like his old self. And that could be his downfall. By behaving as if he is uninjured or no longer in need of help, by acting according to his instincts, he can set the healing process back, or even cause further damage.

As Christians, we are to be a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable unto God (Romans 12:1). But we can never be that in our own strength; we have to give Him our problem areas, the diseased and damaged parts of our lives, and allow Him, by His grace, to sanctify us and make us whole. That's not always easy to do. Sometimes our old nature fights against the work God is doing; and sometimes our old nature tells us that we are good, tells us it won't matter if we skip worship just this once, tells us we've come so far we deserve a break. A few seconds of foolishness can alter all God wants to do in us.

Bishop will be fine. He will be trotting faithfully at my heels once again, listening for my voice, going wherever I go, never taking his eyes off of me.

There's a lesson in that for all of us.

Hyde and Seek

We are obsessed by "Before and After," and our obsession begins at the most basic of levels: Before, as children, we were incapable of feeding ourselves; now -- after -- we have jobs, choose our own foods, cook them, and maybe even feed others who require our help. "Before and After" signifies progress, improvement. But, what is it in us that needs to mark milestones, celebrate achievements, or strive for certain things?

We were made to search. For bigger. For better. The pinnacle, the apex, the culmination of all pursuits.

I disliked having to memorize the Westminster catechism in middle school, now I wish I remembered more than I do. But the one that sticks with me is Westminster catechism #1:

"What is man's chief end? Man's chief end is to glorify God and to enjoy Him forever."

The purpose of all human life is to seek to bring glory to God and revel in who He is, forever. Not exactly a static condition if you think about the attempt. Malachi 3:10, throws down the gauntlet:

"'Bring all the tithes into the storehouse,
That there may be food in My house,
And try Me now in this,'
Says the Lord of hosts,
'If I will not open for you the windows of heaven
And pour out for you such blessing
That there will not be room enough to receive it.'"

Or enough time to enjoy it. Or enough words in your vocabulary to express your appreciation.

It's not easy to like greedy, unappreciative people, or troublemakers who lie and cheat just to get ahead. Who doesn't revile "users" and "Scrooges," and rats who put their own interests above law or love? Most of us root for the underdog, and we like people who are humble and kind to those who are weak. But I have discovered, those two, apparently opposite types of people are more alike than meets the eye. They are both doing what they were born to do: search.

More money; more charity. More me; more Jesus. "More" is not the enemy. It's the "what" that causes issues. In all of our seeking, in all of our straining toward milestones, it's more important we are making progress toward the right prize. The Apostle Paul, in Philippians 3:14, says:

"I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus."

He strives for more -- the upward call. A calling that is progressive, a calling that is taking him to a higher level. A calling that does not leave him where he was before, but makes him a better person, a more grateful person, a more giving person, a more forgiving person, a more humble person. A calling that attempts to bring glory to God and to enjoy every opportunity. That is movement and improvement as we were meant to experience it.

There will always be a "Before" and an "After," but how different they appear may just depend in what you pursue.