When the skies speak

The heavens proclaim the glory of God

The skies display his craftsmanship.

Day after day they continue to speak;

night after night they make him known.

They speak without a sound or word;

their voice is never heard.

Yet their message has gone throughout the earth,

and their words to all the world.

(Psalm 19:1-4, New Living Translation)

When you’re down on yourself

When we were children, if Dad caught one of us doing something we shouldn’t have been doing, he would often frown and say “grrrrowwwllll.” He spoke gently, never raising his voice, but we knew that we had better stop what we were doing.

Now sometimes I hear the Life-giving Lion gently growl at me through the pages of Scripture. His growl is a warning, but not a fearful one. It is a warning that moves me in the direction of Life, breathing love and peace and joy over me even as he growls. Today I hear the healing growl in Romans 8:33-34.

“Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies. Who is he that condemns? Christ Jesus who died - more than that, who was raised to life - is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us.”

These verses picture God as the Judge and Jesus as the defense attorney. I am the defendant.

But far too often, I find myself stepping into the seat of the prosecutor. “That was so stupid. I can’t believe you did that!” “You’re so selfish. Lazy too. Maybe if you’d just try harder. . .” “Will you ever learn from your mistakes?” “Just look at yourself. How can God ever use someone like you?”

Not content to be the prosecutor, I even try to take the position of judge, declaring myself guilty and handing down a sentence.

Into this unruly crowd of one, the True Judge speaks, reminding me that there are enough prosecutors without taking that position myself. And there is only One qualified to judge.

The Lion’s gentle growl reminds me that the verses from Romans 8 speak not merely of the inability of others to charge or condemn me. They speak also to my tendency to step into the seat of prosecutor and judge. “Who do you think you are, to condemn yourself, when I have declared you righteous?” God alone has the right to make the final call. And, incredibly, it is God who justifies.

I could not have a better defense attorney. Since the time when he stepped down to serve the death sentence himself, he does not leave his place, a continual presence reminding the Judge, the prosecutors, and the defendant (should I care to hear), that the maximum sentence has already been served and the defendant can no longer be held liable.

“Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” (Romans 8:1)

May you, too, know the freedom of being merely the defendant, and the joy of hearing the Defense Attorney and the Judge declare you no longer guilty.

How Grace speaks into places of woundedness

This week I am grieving the loss of colleagues. Some have been wounded before. This time they paid the ultimate price as they shared in Christ’s sufferings.

Many of my friends have suffered. One lives with constant noise from eardrums damaged in a blast. Another has worked through extreme emotional trauma. Still another finds the mind struggling to meet weekly expectations as it labors and slows under the too long, too heavy years. Even Spirit-filled people have bodies of dust. Minds, too, can only labor so long under extreme burdens without being affected.

I think of each of these colleagues. And I wonder how many bear not only the physical wounds but the heavier weight of shame and frustration.

I have felt it. The shame of weakness and inability to help with daily tasks. The frustration of needing to schedule daily naps and exercise rather than being able to spontaneously respond to the needs of others. Self-accusations of wimpiness, selfishness, laziness. “Maybe if I just tried harder. . .”

Into these places of shame Grace speaks. His wounds touch ours, connecting our pain, our weakness, the rejection and hurt and dis-ease that we have experienced with his. His hands honor us, lifting us up, reminding us that it is His marks that we bear in our bodies.

Today He reminds me through Paul. This man who was beaten and imprisoned, rejected and starved of food and sleep was not ashamed of his wounds. He wore his scars boldly as honorable battle wounds.

“Finally, let no one cause me trouble, for I bear on my body the marks of Jesus.” (Galatians 6:17)

And so a word to my hurting colleagues: The weakness that haunts you, the wounds you continue to bear as a result of your service are not signs of failure. They are not shameful. They are honorable wounds, marks of courage and endurance and union with Christ in His death. By His grace, you have willingly followed Him to places where you have been injured.

Today may Grace speak freshly into the places of pain, enabling you to wear your scars confidently as marks of a fight well fought, a cross carried, a privileged participation in Christ’s sufferings for the sake of his body.

How to live freely

I feel their fingers again, fingers of resentment and tight-fistedness squeezing the life out of joy and generosity. Why do I feel I have to carefully guard every moment, every penny, every ounce of energy, when You, Abba, are such an Extravagant Giver? Do I fear that you will decide to stop being generous? All that I give  is such a small portion of what you have lavished on me. Do I think I have to hoard what You have given in case You don’t give again? But You are not fickle like my heart. It is Your very nature to give lavishly. Can I not trust You in this?

“He who did not spare His own Son, but gave Him up for us all, will He not also along with Him graciously give us all things?”

I think of the story a friend recently told me from Sleeping with Bread by Dennis Linn. People working with orphans in post World War II Germany found that even once these starved orphans were given new homes with plenty of food, they were unable to sleep, fearful that there would not be food for the following day. They could not sleep until they were given a piece of bread to hold onto while they slept. Then, reassured that there would be food for tomorrow, they slept soundly.

I am learning that giving thanks for the extravagant gifts helps me to rest in God’s character and know that He who is my Provider will not stop providing. He will not stop loving. I can rest, confident that the One who has provided so lavishly for today will provide for tomorrow as well.


A few of the many blessings:

long Sunday afternoon naps

the smell of frying onions

mushroom sandwiches

a bright red tank top in my size on the clearance rack

Taize songs

Regent bookstore sales

flute and violin duets

a multiethnic group of small children delightedly chasing pidgeons

a leisurely walk along the sea wall

being followed by a Canada goose

sunsets reflected in the water

Listening through Lament

We listen best in silence. But sometimes we can’t reach stillness. The noise in our own hearts is too great. The longings, the fears, the disappointments, the anger overwhelm our ability to rest. How then do we listen? In these times, we listen through lament. Then it is through our own crying out that we most clearly hear and share the pain in the heart of God.

In our culture that seeks to drown pain and reaches for pleasure at all costs, we miss hearing the somber tones in the heartbeat of God. Certainly His heart beats the bright tones of joy and the soft tones of peace and the strong tones of love. But joy is borne of sorrow, and love hurts, and the heart of God also beats the deep tones of lament.

“Rejected by His people, hounded by a hopeless sense of separation from the ones He loved the most - the Lord shared these feelings with His young shepherd king. David would lament them again and again to God, as God would lament them through David. Lament became a bridge between them. They would cross it again and again in their loneliness and find each other.” (Michael Card, A Sacred Sorrow, p. 68)

In lament, we hear and share the pain in the heart of God. The pain of separation. The longing for presence and oneness. We affirm with God that this is not how things should be. When we deny ourselves permission to lament, we cut ourselves off not only from our own hearts, and from those around us, but also from the heart of God.

As we lament our sin, declaring our inability to repair the problems in us and around us, the kingdom of God comes near. Sorrow breaks through into praise. The One who himself laments disrupted relationship draws near to comfort and restore. And we hear the Heartbeat that speaks the final Word of Love.

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.” (Matthew 5: 3-4)

The Choosing to Feel

God,
sometimes it feels so hard
it seems that all our love
all our attempts to help
are rebuffed

Sometimes I wonder
why do we even bother?

Wouldn’t it be easier
to close our eyes to the pain
to choose not to see
not to love
and thus not to feel the hurt ourselves?

• • • • •

It started well                                                                                  Gen 1
pure love
complete intimacy
perfection

delight in creating
satisfaction in the created
“It is good”                                                                                     Gen 1:31

desire                                                                                             Gen 1:26
to share the enjoyment

then . . .

loneliness as you looked for your friends?                                        Gen 3:8-9
hurt at their hiding from you. . .
at the maligning of your motives?                                                     Gen 3:2-5

grief at the so-rapid destruction of your joyfully created beauty?
anger at the Evil that had done this. . .                                              Gen 3:14
the twisting of your words. . .
the deceit?

the murder of one you loved                                                            Gen 4:4, 10
rising violence and wickedness until
only evil, evil, evil
evil thoughts, evil actions                                                                  Gen 6:5

and for you
as you watched
deeper and deeper grief
intolerable pain                                                                                Gen 6:6

the decision to extinguish                                                                  Gen 6:7
all of your ruined creation
to wipe out
the evil
and hence the pain

• • • • •

Another decision
a choice                                                                                           Gen 9:9-17
a promise

the decision to never again
so completely destroy
even ruined creation

the choice to feel
to love

the promise to continue in relationship
despite the risk of pain

• • • • •

too soon
more desperate hurt
a vying for your place                                                                       Gen 11:4

again a choice
a promise
not only to keep loving
but to bless                                                                                      Gen 12:3
all nations

All.

All those you had just scattered in punishment                                   Gen 11:6-9
and protection

• • • • •

Love
tenderness                                                                                        Is 63:15
yearning                                                                                           Jer 31:20

hurt
grief                                                                                                  Jer 3:19-20
anger                                                                                                Ps 95:10
                                                                                                        Deut 32:19
longing                                                                                              Is 30:18

rejection                                                                                            Deut 32:15-18
as time and again                                                                               Is 53:3
those you loved so passionately
those you chose
also chose . . .

a lifeless, worthless substitute                                                             Jer 2:11-13
over the living, life-giving You

Again and again
a choice
to keep feeling
keep loving
the love and the pain
inseparable

“What can I do with you?”                                                               Hos 6:4
. . . yet “How I can I give you up?”                                                   Hos 11:8

“And he could bear Israel’s misery no longer”                                   Judg 10:16
“His heart was filled with pain”                                                          Gen 6:6
“Enough!”                                                                                         2 Sam 24:16

So often seemingly too much to bear
. . . yet
. . . the choice

Again and again
judgement

but always too a reaffirmation
of the choice

to keep feeling
to keep loving
to open yourself to the certainty of more pain
more tears

Indescribable grief                                                                             Matt 26:38
desertion                                                                                           Matt 27:46
rejection                                                                                            Matt 27:22
intolerable pain                                                                                  Luke 22:44
alone in your death.

• • • • •

“Take up your cross”                                                                         Matt 16:24
that instrument of pain

The same choice

To follow me                                                                                     John 15:12-13
you must choose to feel
the pain that comes with loving

There is no other way.                                                                       Luke 14:27
 

When you feel defective. . .

I am brought up short by the question of Psalm 139, “Do you think of yourself as God’s artwork, his masterpiece?”

All too often I criticize myself for lack of energy, for inability to respond quickly and fluently, for. . . just about anything. I see myself as defective, not “wonderfully made.”

Why, Abba?

Have I been brainwashed by the world which values physical beauty and productivity, riches and small talk and ability to think quickly and work intensely more than relationship and stillness and joy? Do I, like the world, fear limitation and equate weakness with deficiency, failing to see from the perspective of the cross?

Is there a part of me that sees myself as self-made? “Yes, life is a gift, but I have also achieved through hard work and self-discipline.” . . . And then when the results don’t match the world’s standards, do I suffer the cracking of pride, feeling ashamed because I have failed in my self-creation project?

To live in sync with who we truly are means to recognize that we are dependent on God for our very breath and are graced with many good things; it means to be grateful to the giver and attentive to the purpose for which the gifts are given. (Miroslav Volf, “Free of Charge,” p. 36)

It means to recognize that the details of each personality are hand-chosen, gently woven with ultimate wisdom and tender care into the depths of our souls.

So, on this Multitude Monday, I’m celebrating the gifts of personality, those gifts placed deep into each by loving hands.

I’m celebrating my extrovert sister who connects easily and gives extravagantly and can hold many people in her heart and make each feel special by her way of celebrating them.

I’m celebrating a friend’s clear view of concrete reality, her common sense and quick action that gets things done.

And I’m enjoying the hidden treasures of introversion, the stillness that likes space and hates rush, that treasures “richness” over “muchness,” that sees beyond what is to what might be.

God knew we need both. We need extroversion to keep us connected, to help us celebrate and feast and enjoy life’s extravagance that God pours upon us. And we need introversion to help us appreciate the depth of the hidden reality into which we’re invited, to be able to hold ideas and let them grow and develop until they are ready to be born. Each of us is a different blend of the two. And each expresses a small part of God’s nature that encompasses all.

 

All is gift. My friend’s ability to fearlessly pick up the phone and get things done is gift. My comfort with silence is gift.

There is freedom in receiving all as gift. For when all is gift, I can appreciate the beauty in myself without pride. It is nothing I have done, nothing I have earned. It is sheer gift. I discover myself free to love the beauty in someone else without comparisons. I can admire my sister’s ability to speak freely, and I can accept my own struggle to find words, recognizing that too as part of the gift, the gift that calls me to listen and think and answer from the place of stillness.

Listen. When you hear that critical voice, see if you can also hear the voice of the Father reminding you that he likes the way he made you.




Today I'm writing in community. If you would like to read other thoughts on the endless gifts, click on the button above.

At the Center of Love’s Circle

Today we welcome a new little girl.

We celebrate life’s mystery and wonder. . . Who is this tiny being? What will she love? How will she dream and dance and change her little part of the world?

I am awestruck at the thought of being entrusted with a life to love and tend and help to discover who she is. What did the Father imagine as he knit her together? What special treasures did he bury for her to discover and share? What dreams did he plant? What longings inspire?

And I wonder. . . How do you help a child delight in her beauty and uniqueness without nurturing self-centeredness?

You do it as God does: lavishly celebrating who she is. . . and then helping her see the treasure in others too.

The little girl twirls into the room, all frills in her white sundress.

“Daddy, didn’t Jesus make me beautiful?”

“Yes he did, Treasure. And precious, and wonderful and I love you so much!”

And I see the circle of Love that puts us each at the center. The Mighty God begins the celebration. It starts quietly, gently, whispering private delight. A special name. Secret thoughts just for her. The little girl is held close, quieted, renewed in his Love. She snuggles in. The singing begins, soft at first then rising, swelling, as she is lifted high, celebrated and enjoyed and cherished. She is his, a true masterpiece. She bears his mark, reflects his image in a way like no other. She is loved. Loved! By the One at the center of the universe. The dance goes on and on, drawing her deeper into Love. And as the Mighty One sets her down, she becomes part of the Circle of Love drawing others in and lifting them up to see who they are.

“Isn’t it fun to know you are beautiful? How can we help your friend know she is beautiful too?”

“My soul, bless God,

don't forget a single blessing! . . .

He crowns you with love and mercy — a paradise crown.

He wraps you in goodness — beauty eternal.

He renews your youth — you're always young in his presence.”

(Psalm 103:2-5, the Message)

Congratulations, Jon and Katie and Liam. Welcome, precious little girl.