Resolution

The gym was practically empty this morning.  I could use whichever machine I wanted, and my 12.5 lb free weights were right there – two sets!  Three rows of cardio equipment with only a handful of people climbing/jogging along.  Granted, it was 6:30 a.m., but normally there’s a decent-sized group.  Christmas and vacations, I guess. 

The few of us working out just shook our heads, because we all know what’s coming.  At this time next week, even early, it’s going to be a very different story.  Next week the gym will be packed full of folks fresh off Christmas feasts and New Year’s parties, all trying to keep their resolution to lose some weight in 2011. 

The ‘regulars’ will smile indulgently at the newbies wearing their cute (matching!) workout clothes, sparkling new shoes, clutching charts and carefully recording weights and reps.  They’ll drift from machine to machine, trying this one, then that.  We’ll get annoyed at someone on ‘our’ favorite treadmill, and the nicer ones will help adjust the abduct/adduct machine for the poor person stuck halfway.

So, I’m bracing myself.  At least for a few weeks.  Because, we all know they’ll start tapering off mid-month.  The fancy workout clothes will start getting frumpy, there will be injuries from doing too much too soon, stuff will come up (like staying in a nice warm bed instead of scraping off the car in the dark!)… By February most will be gone.  A few do keeping coming, usually those working out with a partner.  Selfishly, I have to say I prefer fewer people, but it’s really kind of sad.  All these great intentions and soon it’s all for nothing.

When I think about the coming year, there is a lot of exciting stuff up ahead.  I’ve got charts and plans and plenty of passion for it all.  But, will I have the stamina and perseverance to stick it out when the newness wears off?  How about when I get knocked down and hurt by disappointments?  Or, when my desire to be comfortable tempts me to stay snuggled inside instead of venturing out? 

If I think about it in terms of exercise, it’s why I'm doing it that matters.  Especially on those mornings when I’m feeling tired and wimpy, I remind myself that getting up early, pushing myself to lift more, sweating and stretching, is helping keep my body (and mind & spirit!) healthy.  And, if I skip a day or two, I know it’ll take an extra surge of willpower to start again.

Hmm… Perhaps I need to remind myself what my call to the D.R. is all about.  It’s not about staying cozy and keeping my shoes clean.  It’s not about great intentions and a fancy ministry.  It’s about living a life that matters because it’s lived in and through and with and for Jesus.  

So, today I resolve to keep my sight set on the goal, Jesus Christ, and His glory proclaimed in the world.  And, to start again and again, no matter how many times I let my vision slide.  Doing so is going to take way more strength than I have alone.  I’ll need to count on friends-in-Christ, and the power of the Holy Spirit.  Partners help here, too!

How about you?  Have you made any resolutions that you cannot accomplish all alone?  Please let me know.  I’d love lift you up to the One who can see you through!  And, I’ll make a point of encouraging the newbies next week – even those on ‘my’ stepmill!! 

The Day After

On Christmas Eve our church’s sanctuary was filled with lush, gorgeous music, bright red and white poinsettias, folks in their Christmas finery, smiles, beauty, candlelight… a wonderful welcome to the newborn King.  I spent two nights with my ‘Holiday Family’, loving friends who truly treat me like I’m one of their own.  It was a beautiful time filled with joy and love - not to mention lots (and lots!) of delicious food, great chats, and fun watching sweet little ones opening gifts!

This morning I went home and got on the computer before heading to church. I read one friend’s anguished email about her mom who had suffered a stroke, and saw another’s Facebook status of a really rough night with her special needs son.  Another friend called to give me a concerning update on her very sick husband.  Then I glanced through news stories - severe weather, bombings, religious violence and death. 

I headed to church where I helped our Facilities Manager clean up the remnants of the Christmas Eve service.  As the vacuum sucked up flecks of wax, bits of lint, and clumps of dirt, the thought that invaded my mind was, ‘Christmas is well and truly over’.

It seems inevitable that after all the expectation and anticipation, there is a huge letdown.  All the joy and good times of Christmas Day evaporate as the realities of life invade again.  And, unfortunately, it's not just Christmas.  It sometimes feels like after any really great day comes The Day After. 

Jesus’ birth was heralded by the glorious chorus of angels singing “Glory to God in the highest”.  He was worshiped by shepherds and honored by Magi bringing kingly gifts.  But, as we know, Jesus’ birth was not all joy. 

Although He was ‘very God of very God’, His family had to flee, becoming refugees in Egypt to escape the vindictive wrath of Herod.  Herod, whose obsession with staying in power caused the murder of all of Bethlehem’s baby boys.  It’s not nice to talk about, is it?  It’s upsetting and awful.  As awful as the killings in Nigeria I read about this morning, the bombing in Pakistan, friends facing the illness and possible death of beloved family.

While we live in this broken world, Christmas Day is always going to be followed by The Day After.  It may sound odd, and even morbid, but I find a type of comfort in acknowledging this. Huh?!  You see, Jesus endured pain and hardship beyond anything we can comprehend – on the cross, yes, but it began long before that.  And so, through His life, as well as His death, He is able to understand our suffering.  And not just understand it, He is able to meet us and dwell with us in the midst of it.

During my quiet time this morning I read these words of promise, “The Lord Himself goes before you and will be with you; He will never leave you nor forsake you.  Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.” (Deut. 31:8)  Jesus did not come just for Christmas Day, but for all The Days After, too.  He goes ahead of us, and will never, ever leave us.  That gives me the strength and courage to keep going, no matter what may come next. 

I pray that if you are experiencing one of those Days After, you will sense the presence of the One whose birth we celebrated yesterday.  He is right there with you today, and truly will never leave you nor forsake you!

Show Me Your Glory!

Not too long ago I read a book that referred to Moses talking with God about the difficulties of leading the Israelites. (Given their tendency to whine and complain about, oh, everything, he had good reason to be concerned!)  The author pointed out that Moses didn’t ask God to make them more obedient or to miraculously improve his leadership skills.  Instead, he asked to know God better. And then Moses said, “Now show me Your glory” (Exodus 33:18)  That’s a pretty bold request, isn’t it?!

  

I don’t know about you, but when I am concerned and worried, my prayers are usually along the lines of ‘Please help me to do such-and-such’ and more often than I’d like to admit, ‘Please help so-and-so see the error of their ways’.  My first response is not, Please Father, I need to see Your glory. 

But, you know what?  I do.  I do need God to show me His glory.  His glory which spun the universe into being.  His glory in majestic mountains, the Aurora Borealis, changing leaves, intricate snowflakes.  His glory in friendship and laughter and meaningful work.  His glory in the perfect life, death and resurrection of Jesus.  His glory which has no beginning and no end.

When Moses came down from Mount Sinai his face was radiant because he had spent time in the presence of God.  Being with God did not make the Israelites any easier to lead.  It didn’t suddenly make them grateful or stop their whining.  But, Moses was different, literally aglow with God’s glory. 

What about me?  Do I ever boldly ask to see God’s glory?  Or, am I too busy telling God all the things I need Him to be doing for me?  Show me Your glory.  When I get strained and stressed, that’s what I want my cry to be.  And when God answers me, by the Holy Spirit’s power may I see it, bask in it, take time to be still and know God better through it. 

And then, oh, then, may my face be radiant.  Not of my own worthiness, but only because of God’s glory.  The glory that is returning someday with Jesus.  When God will come and make His dwelling with us.  With our perfected, unveiled faces we will behold His glory!  (Do you think we’ll glow?!)  The new Jerusalem will need no lamp nor sun because God’s glory alone will be our light.  Oh, Holy Father, show me Your glory!

The Word Became Flesh

(I wrote the first version of this a couple of years ago as I tried to get my mind around what it really meant for Jesus to leave the glories of Heaven and become human. I never did fully grasp it, which is why I 'tweak' it each year. I'm realizing our finite brains never will (at least this side of Heaven)! But, contrasting God's words to Job with Jesus' birth fills me with new joy and awe and love.  I pray it may do so for you, too!)

A Christmas Reflection using selected verses from Job 38 & 42

Then the Lord answered Job out of the storm.

     The not-yet-born child kicks, making a visible lump on his mother’s swollen belly

Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundations?  Tell me if you understand.

     The pain begins to build. Up ahead, at last, Bethlehem.

Who marked off its dimensions?  Surely you know!

     No room. Does God know her baby is about to be born in a stable?

Who stretched a measuring line across it?

     The infinite One squeezes through a narrow channel

On what were its footings set, or who laid its cornerstone-

     No female relatives nearby. Does Joseph know how to deliver a baby?

While the morning stars sang together and all the angels shouted for joy?

     Outside angels sing, but here the only sound is a gasping young girl, straining as she gives birth.

Who shut up the sea behind doors when it burst forth from the womb,

     The Deliverer is delivered!

When I made the clouds its garment and wrapped it in thick darkness,

     The Hope of the world lies naked, slippery, sticky. 

When I fixed limits for it and set its doors and bars in place,

     The Limitless One limits Himself in skin and bone and sinew

When I said, ‘This far you may come and no farther;

     Tepid water, a carpenter’s rough hands to wash tender skin

Here is where your proud waves halt’?

     King of kings humbles Himself

Have you given orders to the morning, or shown the dawn its place

     Invincible God uses tiny lungs to draw shallow breaths

Have you journeyed to the springs of the sea or walked in the recesses of the deep?

     Boundless One, bound up in swaddling clothes

Have the gates of death been shown to you? Have you seen the gates of the shadow of death?

     Little baby, you came to be cast into the depths of Hell, all out of love for us

Have you comprehended the vast expanses of the earth? 

     In this newly born body, the One who spoke creation cannot yet form words.

What is the way to the abode of light?  And where does darkness reside?

     Eyes that gazed on the formless empty earth now blink and tear in dim stable light

Surely you know, for you were already born!  You have lived so many years!

     The Alpha and the Omega is scant minutes old

Can you raise your voice to the clouds and cover yourself with a flood of water?

     Almighty God, unable even to lift His head without support

Who endowed the heart with wisdom or gave understanding to the mind?

     The Source of all knowledge curls delicate hand around Mary’s finger.

Who provides food for the raven when its young cry out to God?       

     The Word made flesh turns to his mother and begins to nurse.

Then Job replied to the LORD… Surely I spoke of things I did not understand, things too wonderful for me to know… My ears had heard of you but now my eyes have seen you.

     Thank you, Father, for Jesus. We cannot completely understand what it meant for Him to become flesh, but we praise You for the wonder of it all. Thank you that we have not just heard of You, but through Jesus’ life, death and resurrection, we have seen You. How we long for the day we will see You face-to-face! Until then, may we faithfully proclaim Your wonderful Good News to the world.

The Stuff of Memories

I saw one of those insurance commercials yesterday morning showing a house on fire.  The voiceover said something like “Are you protected?  What if all your belongings and memories go up in smoke?”   It struck a nerve.  I was on the step-mill at the gym, and as I climbed that never-ending staircase, I pondered what the commercial was saying.  Can memories really go up in smoke?  If I don’t have the picture/postcard/t-shirt to prove it, do I no longer have the memory? 

I’ve never lost things in a fire, but I have in a flood.  In 1999 we were in North Carolina when Hurricane Floyd roared through.  The pile of ruined stuff at the side of the curb looked pitiful.  I lost things my mom had sent me.  I lost things I had saved for years.  But the memories of living with friends while our place was being fixed, playing Trivial Pursuit by vanilla-scented candles, and grilling frozen pizzas when the power went out, those still make me smile when I think of them!

I’m not saying none of it matters.  I love things with history.  I love re-reading cards and notes.   Opening up an old book is like meeting a friend again.  Baby pictures and high school journals and letters from friends all connect me to my past.  I guess what I’m wondering is, Do my things point to a memory, or are they a part of the memory itself?

The first time I read Anne of Green Gables was on a trip to Florida.  I was 10.  Mom was recovering from her first battle with breast cancer, and kind friends had given our family use of a condo and helped with plane fare.  I remember sitting in the shade, reading about Anne and her adventures.  I remember sand and waves and bright sunlight and palm trees.  I remember Mom asking what was wrong when she saw me crying as I read the chapter where Matthew dies.

If I give away my Anne books, does my memory of reading them go away, too?   

I’ve started the process of going through my stuff to set aside what I really want to keep.   Unlike 1999, this time, I have a choice.  That’s good, but it also means it’s taking more time.  I go back and forth between either getting rid of it all, or trying to keep most of it.  How much stuff do I hold onto for ‘sentimental’ reasons?  Is the solution to set some random number of books I’ll keep or boxes I’ll store?  Do I take pictures of my stuff so I can look at them after the items themselves are gone?  Okay, that’s just silly. 

Where does the ‘stuff’ end and the ‘memory’ begin?  I’m not really sure.  I know my memories are much bigger than any of the stuff.  But, I also don’t think just trashing everything is the answer.  As I work through this, I’m learning a lot about myself and what I hold dear.  I know this is a good thing, as difficult as it is.  So, like the other parts of this crazy journey I am on, I pray that God will continue to work in me, reminding me of His presence yesterday, today and forever.  No matter what I keep or sell or give away, He is truly the ‘Stuff’ of my past memories and my future ones as well.      

Planting Sticks

At our Session meeting last night, we heard papers written by our Elders-Elect. (Part of becoming an officer is researching different tenets and doctrines of the Presbyterian church.)  One of these was titled, “Bearing Fruit: Command or Promise?”  It was awesome!  The Elder-Elect said that we tend to get it backwards.  We hear Jesus say, “you will bear fruit” and we immediately start to figure out what we need to do to make that happen.  We throw our energy into ways we are going to bear bigger, shiner, more incredible fruit.

Then she read out Jesus’ words in John 15:4-5:  “Remain in Me, as I also remain in you.  No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine.  Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in Me.  I am the vine; you are the branches.  If you remain in Me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from Me you can do nothing.”

As she pointed out, the command is not to bear fruit, but to remain in Jesus.  Only through Him is fruit possible.  As a little kid, my younger brother used to plant sticks, hoping they would become trees.  We had two or three of them stuck in our flowerbed.  Here were these dead sticks right next to my mom’s petunias and impatiens.  Both were in good soil.  Both had the sun shining on them.  But, while the flowers grew, the sticks stayed stuck.  They were an eyesore, and after a while my mom would pull them out and pitch them.

Right now I am stressed and strained about many things.  My solution is to work harder, try to do more, plan and plot ways to accomplish more.  Hearing Jesus’ words last night made me realize (yet again!) that my efforts are not only wearing me out, they are useless.  Each time I go out there to bear fruit apart from Jesus, I am just putting a dead stick in the ground.

Worse yet, I am acting as if Jesus’ words do not apply to me.  As if somehow I am the exception and out of my own strength and awesomeness I am going to bear fruit apart from Him.  I dress it up fancy by telling myself I’m doing it all for Him.  It is humbling to realize that disconnected from Jesus, all my work and worry and effort is just an eyesore needing to be thrown out.

I want my life to be vibrant and colorful and alive and fruitful.  I cannot accomplish this.  After all, not only do I plant dead sticks, I am a dead stick.  So, how can it happen?  “Remain in Me.”  Jesus is the Vine.  Only in Him do I have life.  Jesus’ command is an invitation to move me into closer relationship with Him.  And out of that connection, through God’s grace alone, I will bear fruit.  That’s the promise, and what an amazing promise it is!  Dead sticks blooming to life.  Bearing not just some fruit, but ‘much fruit’.

“Remain in Me.”  Holy Spirit, only in Your power can this ugly dead branch be transformed into fruit-filled beauty.  Oh, Jesus, may I remain in You today!

Aromatic Inner Bark

I spent a good part of yesterday in my kitchen cooking homemade Indian food.  It’s one of my favorite ways to relax.  It really is!  Focusing on the complex recipes means I have to let the other things racing around my mind fade to the background or my food won’t turn out right. 

I love my Masala Dabba (Indian spice container) and 20+ whole spices.  I love taking my spice grinder and experimenting until I find the perfect chai blend.  I love the fact that a recipe tastes different if you add the cumin first, or later on, or if it’s roasted whole or ground up.  I love the way simple ingredients like lentils can be elevated into art.  (Yes, they are that good!  As a friend of mine quipped, it makes you sympathize a bit with Esau!) 

I love dropping cardamom pods, cloves and cinnamon sticks into warm oil.  The entire kitchen fills with the most incredible smell!  Ah, cinnamon!  Cinnamon fascinates me.  In savory dishes it adds a warm sweetness.  In chocolate or other sweets, it adds a kind of peppery depth.  It’s been cultivated and used for thousands of years.  It’s mentioned in the Bible as part of the sacred anointing oil for the priests. 

How did it get discovered?  Did some ancient person notice a lovely smell coming from a tree and think, That smells good enough to eat?  What did his family think when he presented his stick-filled stew?  Just try a bite Honey, really, you’re going to love it!

When I roast and grind and chop and sauté and simmer, and all the ingredients begin to be a meal, I can’t help but praise God for His creativity.  If you think about it, all food really needs to do is to give us the proper combination of nutrients, protein, calories, etc.  God didn’t ‘have to’ make it tasty, too!  He didn’t have to create the incredible variety of spices and herbs and vegetables and fruits and… well, you get the idea!!  He didn’t have to create cinnamon.  But He did! 

That gets me thinking out past my Masala Dabba.  Thinking about the other gifts our Creator God has given us which are so far over and above the necessities of simply existing.  Even in its fallen state, the whole earth is full of glimpses of God’s creativity.  He delights in beauty and variety and allows us to delight in them, too.

Thank you, Father, for Your rich blessings.  Thank you for the infinite ways Your creation declares Your glory.  Thank you for duck-billed platypuses and orchids and baby giggles and frozen waterfalls and yes, trees with aromatic inner bark. 

Servant Challenge & Martyr's Prayer

One night this summer, the teams gathered in the chapel on the S.I. base for a “Servant Challenge.”  As the rain pounded down onto the metal roof, we lifted up songs of praise to our Creator.  We spent time reading His Word, and in one-on-one prayer with our Father.  The evening was to end with Jesus’ example of serving, washing another’s feet.  I wasn’t really looking forward to that.  It seemed too intense and intimate, and definitely outside of my comfort zone!

As we moved to that part of the night, I looked up from my prayer journal and saw Heather.  Heather was (and still is!) one of ‘my girls’.  We had met, really, two years earlier, on our 2008 D.R. mission trip.  After we returned home I led a small group of high school girls (Audrey, Heather & Makenzie – love mis chicas dulces!).  They were all heading off to college so it was our final time to be together.  Instead of being weird, partnering with Heather back in the place our friendship started was a beautiful and fitting end to this part of our journey.

During this evening of serving, there was also a challenge.  A challenge to live all-out for Jesus.  In ways that would be stretching and new and take our everything.  As Jesus met me through song and the Word and prayer and foot washing, the idea of serving in the D.R. full-time stopped being a nice, abstract flirtation and started to take deep root in me. 

And then, one of the interns shared something written by a young pastor in Zimbabwe.  This pastor was martyred for his faith, and among his belongings was a moving, Holy Spirit filled prayer.  With the rain still pouring down, the interns’ voice rang out.  My heart soared, and right then I started saying Yes.  Here is what we heard:

I’m part of the fellowship of the unashamed. I have the Holy Spirit power. The die has been cast. I have stepped over the line. The decision has been made—I’m a disciple of his. I won’t look back, let up, slow down, back away, or be still. My past is redeemed, my present makes sense, my future is secure. I’m finished and done with low living, sight walking, smooth knees, colorless dreams, tamed visions, worldly talking, cheap giving, and dwarfed goals.

I no longer need preeminence, prosperity, position, promotions, plaudits, or popularity. I don’t have to be right, first, tops, recognized, praised, regarded, or rewarded. I now live by faith, lean on his presence, walk by patience, am uplifted by prayer, and labor with power.

My face is set, my gait is fast, my goal is heaven, my road is narrow, my way is rough, my companions are few, my Guide is reliable, my mission is clear. I cannot be bought, compromised, detoured, lured away, turned back, deluded, or delayed. I will not flinch in the face of sacrifice, hesitate in the presence of the enemy, pander at the pool of popularity, or meander in the maze of mediocrity.

I won’t give up, shut up, or let up until I have stayed up, stored up, prayed up, paid up, preached up for the cause of Christ. I am a disciple of Jesus. I must keep going until he comes, give until I drop, preach until all know, and work until he stops me. And, when he comes for his own, he will have no problem recognizing me. My banner will be clear.

May my banner be clear as I serve our Savior!

Joy

Last night in our final Perspectives session (one of these days I’m going to write a post about how that amazing class has “ruined” my life!!) our speaker shared about the ways the Holy Spirit has been working – and is continuing to work! – in the world.  His stories were compelling and beautiful.  As he spoke, he would often break off into giggles at the amazing things God is doing.  That sounds childish and silly, but honestly, he giggled!

And, here’s the thing.  This is a man who has been in many, many countries in the world.  People have shared stories with him that would knock most of us down, if not cause us to literally gag, at their horror.  He has spent time with those who have plenty of reasons to hate an American Christian.  He has taught in closed countries where jumping out a back window was seriously the ‘escape plan’ if the police showed up.  This man has not been in great health, is in his 70s, but still keeps up an exhausting schedule flying all over the world to share Jesus.  His writing and speech are filled with words like Wonder, Marvel, Amazing, and Much Joy.  Much Joy.  Even his health challenges have renewed a passion to live each day in joyous service to Jesus.  Humbling?  Oh, my, yes!!

Lately, I have not been feeling joy.  I have been feeling duty and drudgery and a need to do lots of work on myself.  I firmly believe that the Holy Spirit is moving in me to confront stuff.  But, I’ve been approaching it as a task to trudge through, not as time to be in His loving presence.  As I’ve shared before, my mom had cancer while she was pregnant with me.  The doctors were not sure I would even be born.  My parents gave me a name that expressed their thankfulness to God.  What’s my middle name?  Joy.  Hmmm.

Last night was a reminder that serving our crucified, risen and returning Savior is much joy.  A joy that is not based on circumstances, but in the One who came to restore it.  Sitting listening to this man, an amazing servant of our amazing God, I saw a glimpse of what the ‘abundant life’ Jesus offers can look like.  Where no matter what’s going on, we just have to giggle because God is so very good.  So, today, I am recommitting to laughter and giggling and joy.   Not a silly, naïve happiness that ignores life.  But that deep joy which comes from having my life hid in Christ Jesus.  That’s what the world needs to see.  That’s what can cause transformation.  I want to be a part of that light, shining out in joyful abandon at the crazy wonder of it all.  Wanna join me?!

Chaos and Peace

When I find verses or quotes or song lyrics that resonate, I write or print them out and stick them up on mirrors, cupboards, walls.  My upstairs bathroom mirror and walls are packed full.  One of the songs posted is one I heard the morning I submitted my S.I. application.  I had worked on my app. for two weeks.  24 essay questions plus a resume and other info.  17 typed pages.  And now, there it sat. 

I decided to wait and do my grocery shopping before hitting ‘Send’.  As I drove, this song came on.  I’d heard it before, but this time every word was for me.  It’s called “Whatever You’re Doing” by Sanctus Real.  I won’t write all the words, but part of them say:

“Time for a milestone, time to begin again
Re-evaluate who I really am
Am I doing everything to follow Your will
Or just climbing aimlessly over these hills?
So show me what it is You want from me
I give everything, I surrender

To whatever You're doing inside of me
It feels like chaos but somehow there's peace
And though it's hard to surrender to what I can't see
I'm giving in to something Heavenly, something Heavenly “

Yes, perhaps I was just grasping for confirmation, but you gotta admit, those words are mighty fitting!  I did hit Send that day, and the adventure began!

This week I used the lyrics as I prayed.  Yes, I’ve passed a milestone, but there is much to do here where I am right now.  I tend always to be looking to the future.  I want to live in the present, even as I am planning for my move.  I want to be surrendering to God’s will for the here and now.

As I’ve shared in earlier posts, I am sensing God inviting me to do some important soul work with Him.  One of the lines of the song says, “There’s a wave that’s crashing over me and all I can do is surrender”.  I don’t like swimming in the ocean. Growing up I tried to dive through waves and instead wound up pulled under and tossed around until I really thought I was drowning.  If I had stopped fighting so hard and just let the water carry me, I probably wouldn’t have been washing sand away for days after! 

So, the image of crashing waves is enough to make my chest feel tight.  Crashing waves, chaos, not being able to see what’s happening.  That's kind of what I'm feeling these days, and it does't always feel good.  As odd as it sounds, surrendering and giving up is really hard work!  But, I know I can only experience God's peace by doing just that; surrendering and giving up control to Him. 

I’m discovering this is not a one-time thing.  My ‘flesh’ keeps reminding me of my hang-ups, brokenness, sin and short-comings.  But, God is at work in me.  I know this.  He is not finished.  In the Spirit’s power I am going to trust that one day I will be able to say “It feels like chaos but somehow there’s peace”.  Until that day, each day, I’m praying I continue 'striving' to 'cease striving', and allow God to do whatever He is doing inside of me.   

The Dragon and The Lion

I shared with a friend today that I’m in a season of being stripped bare of everything I cling to.  I feel the Holy Spirit at work in ways I’ve not experienced before.  I’m not sure if it’s stuff He needs me to work through relating to my move to the D.R., or if it’s something else entirely.  All I know is, it’s kind of freaking me out, and here’s why:

There’s that scene in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader (not a movie plug, I promise!!) where Eustace (as a dragon) meets the great lion Aslan.  Aslan invites Eustace to remove his scaly dragon skin.  Eustace happily scratches away one layer, and it feels marvelous.  But looking down, he notices he’s still covered in scales.  This happens again… and then again, and Eustace sees that all his work trying to remove the skin has been “no good”.  

Finally Aslan tells him that he will have to “undress” Eustace.  Eustace tells Edmund later: “The very first tear he made was so deep that I thought it had gone right into my heart.  And when he began pulling the skin off, it hurt worse than anything I’ve ever felt.” 

I’ve been scratching away little bits of stuff in my life, but it’s all been ‘no good’.  I’m beginning to realize that what’s needed is not a gentle buffing, but a firm, strong ripping away.  I hear Jesus inviting me to allow Him to ‘undress’ me.  Only He can remove all these layers that I’ve built up.  But, I’m scared that the tear will go right into my heart.  Right into what I have held onto and hidden so long.  In fact, I’m pretty sure this process is going to hurt worse than when I first started growing those thick, hard, protective layers. 

Eustace says that even though he was afraid of Aslan’s claws, he was “pretty nearly desperate now”.  I’m starting to feel that way.  Between my thorn, confronting unfinished grief with my mom’s death and my divorce, and this whole process of ending one chapter and preparing for another, my life is feeling kind of pretty nearly out of my control.  You know, perhaps that is why the Spirit is moving in me and all of this is happening.  To bring me to a place of desperation which only Jesus can heal. 

In the end Eustace is left pink and smooth and tender, a boy once again.  He bathes in a fountain, and while the water smarts at first, it’s only for a moment, and then it becomes “delicious”.  Am I willing to go through the pain to get to that delicious moment of being renewed? 

And once again, I find myself on familiar ground - Do I trust God enough to lead me through this?  Do I trust Him enough to tear away whatever it is that is keeping me held captive in this scaly shell?  Do I trust that He is working, not in spite of the pain, but in it?  Holy Spirit, outside of You, I cannot trust.  Teach me to trust, teach me to surrender, teach me the joy of delicious renewal in You!