Implicit Trust

“If a man will resign himself in implicit trust to the Lord Jesus, he will find that He leads the wayfaring soul into the green pastures and beside the still waters, so that even when he goes hrough the dark valley of the shadow of some staggering episode, he will fear no evil. Nothing in life or death, time or eternity, can stagger a soul from the certainty of the Way, for one moment” (Oswald Chambers, Run Today’s Race).

That’s what I want — implicit trust in Jesus, no matter what. Lately, I find that my faith comes and goes like the ocean tides advancing and retreating, rising and ebbing. One moment, I am calm and collected and the next I am inwardly freaking out. Too often, my faith is too tied in to my emotions.

But the true saint of God has a steady faith. Or at least he or she is moving toward one. The hindrance to the necessary resignation of the soul to the ways of the Lord is the illusion of control that we cling to. The more I think I somehow can help God out or speed up His timeline, the more inclined I am to fret and worry.

I still love Corrie ten Boom’s imagery of staying on the train that’s going through a dark tunnel. Of course, you don’t leap off the train in the middle of the tunnel. You sit still and trust the engineer. But in the midst of life’s dark passages, it’s easy to want to go AWOL on God. But what’s the alternative? Lostness and the dark?

Lord, grow my faith. Help me to take my tiny mustard seed faith and put it in Your hands so that I can rest in Your promises and plans for me. Help me to know with my whole being that You are still working all things together for my good. Amen.

Just Breathe

Sometimes, those moments of anxiety can be overwhelming. You know the feeling. You’re cruising down the interstate or sitting at your desk at work and suddenly, all those worries come crashing down on you. There may not be any logical reason for any of it, but you still find yourself fearful and anxious.

Just breathe.

Remember that today you will face nothing that Jesus hasn’t already overcome. Nothing will come up against you that He hasn’t already defeated on the cross.

He will work out all things for your good. It may not always look like you imagined it would, but in the end, it works out for not just the good but for the best.

Sometimes, you can say a prayer while you’re breathing in and out to calm yourself. I don’t mean a lengthy theological narrative, but a short one-sentence prayer. Maybe even a one- or two-word prayer along the lines of “Thank you” or “Help me.”

Or you can try this prayer I learned from one of Brennan Manning’s books.

When you breathe in, you can say, “Abba Father,” and when you breathe out you can say, “I belong to you,” until it becomes a kind of mantra. Say the words slowly and deliberately as if savoring and meditating on each one.

Repeat as often as necessary or until the meaning of the words finally begins to sink in and fear and anxiety loses their power over you.

It also helps to find a quiet, calm space to be alone for a bit. You may not be able to find a perfectly silent and still atmosphere, but you can find somewhere where you can hear yourself think.

Remember, God is with you. There’s nothing you will face that He can’t get you through. Absolutely nothing.

The end.

17 Days In

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I reported to you earlier that I had decided to give up not only Facebook, but all forms of social media this year for Lent. Obviously excluding WordPress.

It’s been 17 days (by my count) out of 46. So far, so good. I haven’t missed social media like I thought I would. In fact, most of the time, I don’t really even think about it much.

I’ve used my newfound free time in catching up on my reading and movie watching. On the book front, I’m currently reading Anne of the Islands (the third book of the Anne of Green Gables series– don’t judge) as well as diligently reading through The Voice translation of the Bible (I’m up to Isaiah 23).

Recently, I re-watched all the Harry Potter movies and remembered why I liked them so much the first time. Also, I was astounded all over again at how many incredible well-known actors they enlisted for these film adaptations of children’s books.

I find myself less anxious and more calm without social media. I do miss seeing what my friends post, but I also don’t miss checking to see who commented on my own posts (a bad habit that I still sometimes struggle with).

I’m still praying for more discipline and more willingness to create space and silence for God to speak to me. I’m praying for the ability to quiet my own mind and listen to that Still Small Voice that will never compete with my own noise.

That’s all I have for now. I’ll keep you posted for the remaining 29 days of Lent.

On a Night Like This

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It was a perfect night. You couldn’t ask for better weather. It was cool, almost fall-ish, with a barely perceptible breeze stirring the remainders of summer scents and sending them wafting through the air.

I and my community group went to a friend’s house where we baked pizzas in an outdoor brick oven. That part was fabulous. Yeah, it beat DiGiornio’s, at least in this pizza fan’s opinion.

I even put together my own pizza, with dough, sauce, cheese, and pepperonis. Ok, I’m no Wolfgang Puck, but it was both fun and stimulating to create something with my own two hands. Especially something I got to eat later.

I loved seeing friends old and new and having good conversations. I love even more being in a place in my life where I’m comfortable in my own skin and not always feeling like I have to prove my worth to anybody.

Normally, you don’t see change and growth in your own life on a daily basis. It’s only when you are able to look back over six months or a year that you really see the fingerprints of God all over your life.

I see where I am more confident, calmer, and at peace with myself, others, and God. I am better at waiting, more patient, more understanding. I am much better at finding those moments of eucharisteo in my life and living out of a sense of joy and gratitude.

The only thing I would have added is maybe a hammock. I could see myself falling asleep, cradled by the night and hearing God singing with delight over me.

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So, life is still good, God is still great, and I am still blessed.

Jesus Is Your Peace

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This is just a reminder for those weary and worn ragamuffins who occasionally stray from the road and get lost in the dark from time to time. There’s always a Voice calling your name to lead you back. And the name of that Voice is the Prince of Peace.

When you’re tired and you can’t sleep, Jesus is your peace.

When the one you really like prefers someone else over you, Jesus is your peace.

When your spouse wakes up one morning and decides he or she doesn’t love you anymore and doesn’t want to be married to you anymore, Jesus is your peace.

When a friend whom you trusted hurts you and the wound goes deeper than pain, Jesus is your peace.

When your good intentions get maligned and people ascribe you malicious motives, Jesus is your peace.

When you have a week of Mondays at work and nothing seems to go right, Jesus is your peace.

When you’ve been out of work for months and begin to wonder if you even have anything worth offering to anybody, Jesus is your peace.

When you’re bending over a sick loved one and your only prayers are tears, Jesus is your peace.

When your child hovers between life and death and you are powerless to help, Jesus is your peace

Through whatever storms or calm, joy or sorrow, victory or defeat, gain or loss, Jesus has been, is, and will always be your peace.

Amen.