Hold Fast to the Eternal

“Grant us, Lord, 
not to be anxious about earthly things, 
but to love things heavenly; 
and even now, while we are placed among things that are passing away, 
to hold fast to those that shall endure; 

through Jesus Christ our Lord, 
who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, 
one God, 
for ever and ever. 
Amen.”

That’s the worst part about anxiety. We spend so much time obsessing over so many things that won’t last so that we forget about what’s lasting and eternal. We fret over so many temporary circumstances that we lose sight of that Kingdom that lasts forever and can never be shaken.

Most of what I’ve worried about in my life didn’t matter a year later. Sometimes even a month. I can’t remember what I worried about in the past, and if I did, it seems not worth all the effort now. Why can’t I remember that when the temptation to be anxious arises?

My hope is in what will never pass away. Even the worst that can come my way is but a light and momentary affliction compared to the eternal weight of glory that awaits in heaven and seeing Jesus face to face.

Yet I still worry. We all do. It seems to be the human default setting that’s almost impossible to turn off. We’re prone to wander and to worry. It’s what we do. Jesus is prone to forgive us for worrying and to grant us peace that passes understanding if only we’ll ask for it.

Maybe memorizing that first little prayer might help to alleviate some of the anxiety. Better yet memorizing Scripture helps when the fear and worry try to sneak in. Focusing on God in prayer is always an appropriate antidote for anxiety.

Lord, forgive us for fretting. Help us to remember that what matters is what is eternal. You are eternal. Heaven is eternal. Everything else that keeps us awake at night will pass.

The Peace of Christ

“‘I give you MY peace’ John 14:27. Jesus, thank you for a peace that doesn’t just prepare us to die well, but also to live free. The peace of no condemnation and your full delight. The peace of knowing you’re working in all things for our good” (Scotty Smith).

I’m thankful that the peace of Christ isn’t based on my ideas of what peace should look and feel like.

My idea of peace is no conflict, no discomforts, no pain, no trials. If I had my way, I’d go from ease to ease, from comfort to comfort, and never grow up. Jesus’ way isn’t about making me suffer simply for the sake of suffering, but in my trials and tribulations I can 1) become more like Jesus, and 2) identify with Jesus in His own sufferings (which were way worse than mine will ever be).

Peace isn’t the absence of storms, but being sheltered in the midst of those storms. As the old song says, sometimes Jesus calms the storm, but often He comforts His child in the storm.

Peace is ultimately an inner solitude that nothing from the outside can shake, a confidence of faith that no outside crisis can kill, and a trust that says, “Even if He kills me, I will still keep trusting” (adapted from Job 13:15).

Grant us peace tonight that passes all our human understanding and guards our hearts and leads us to adoration of You, O Lord.

A Prayer for Anxiety

“Dear God, as I lay me down to sleep, relax the tension of my body; calm the restlessness of my mind; still the thoughts which worry and perplex me. Help me to rest myself and all my problems in your strong and loving arms. Let your Spirit speak to my mind and heart while I am asleep, so that, when I wake up in the morning, I may find that I have received in the night-time, light for my way; strength for my tasks; peace for my worries; forgiveness for my sins. Grant me sleep tonight, and tomorrow power to live” (Author Unknown).

Sometimes, the anxiety just won’t go away. The sad truth is that worry is the default setting for most of us. We don’t how to train ourselves on how to fret — that comes naturally. We do have to discipline and train ourselves in ways to relax and destress.

But we have the promise of the Prince of a peace that passes all understanding. We have Jesus’ invitation for all who are burdened and heavy-laden to come and find rest. We know that God’s truth is more real than anything that we think or feel.

The best news is that any anxiety is temporary but the true peace and joy that comes from God is forever. This light and momentary affliction will soon yield to an eternal weight of glory far beyond anything we endure that brings anxiety. Hope and help are on the way.

Stop the Insanity!

“Stop trying to protect, to rescue, to judge, to manage the lives around you . . remember that the lives of others are not your business. They are their business. They are God’s business . . . even your own life is not your business. It also is God’s business. Leave it to God. It is an astonishing thought. It can become a life-transforming thought . . . unclench the fists of your spirit and take it easy . . . What deadens us most to God’s presence within us, I think, is the inner dialogue that we are continuously engaged in with ourselves, the endless chatter of human thought. I suspect that there is nothing more crucial to true spiritual comfort . . . than being able from time to time to stop that chatter . . . ” (Frederick Buechner, Telling Secrets).

I suspect that this little gem of a quote will hit home with many of you as it did with me.

I quite agree that being able to still the inner dialogue and the endless chatter of human thought to recognize God’s presence and find true peace. Sometimes, that’s easier said than done.

 

Be At Rest

“God is at work. He does not slumber.
Christ intercedes. He does not fail.
The Spirit comforts. He does not forsake.
Be at rest. Be at peace.
Your name at the end of the day is Beloved” (Ann Voskamp).

You and I can be at rest and have peace, even on those Mondays when our devices aren’t working, when our circumstances don’t cooperate with our plans, and when fear and anxiety seem to have the upper hand in our thoughts.

We can rest because we know that our identity is not what we do but who we are. Or whose we are.

All the diplomas and titles and honors and rewards in the world count for nothing apart from Christ, and nothing is lost if you lose everything and still have Jesus.

That is peace. That is rest.

 

More Lucy Memories

Lost in all the hoopla about the solar eclipse, Monday, August 21, marked two months since my Lucy crossed the rainbow bridge. While I have Peanut, my lovable and playful kitten to heal my heart, I still find myself at times missing the old gal fiercely.

Tonight, I stood at the railing overlooking the stairs. I remembered how Lucy used to look up from the bottom, see me, and come running up the stairs to me. Every single time. Even when she was older and couldn’t run as well, she still willed herself to run to me, greeting me with her friendly chatter.

I remember how when I got home and found her in one of her usual napping spots, the first thing she did when she saw me was let out the hugest yawn ever. I believe it wasn’t because she found me incredibly boring but rather because she was completely relaxed and at ease with me.

I’m finding out these days that it’s possible to carry around two conflicting and completely opposite emotions at the same time. For me, it’s joy and grief, peace and longing. Sometimes, it’s hard to know where the one ends and the other begins.

It’s another reminder of the “now and not yet.” Sure, there’s good to be found here and we can have the peace of Christ, but we wait the perfect consummation of all our hopes and joys. We know that we were made for another and better world — heaven– and we have a longing and a desire that nothing earthly can satisfy.

I do wish that rainbow bridge had visiting hours. I’d go see my Lucy every chance I got. I bet she’d come running up to me and greet me with that ginormous yawn of hers. I would expect nothing less.

A Little More Heartache

I was doing just fine tonight. I’d celebrated my sister’s birthday earlier and we’d all had a grand time (except for a food allergy scare with my nephew, but even that turned out fine in the end).

Then I saw a short video of my recently deceased cat Lucy kneading the pillow next to mine, getting ready for one of her patented naps. I wanted so badly to reach through my computer screen and pull her out if only for one more night beside me. My heart still aches for moments like these that I know will never come again.

I know that you can’t short-cut the grieving process, whether it’s for a pet or for a brother or sister, husband or wife, son or daughter. It’s not a process that you ever get through, but a process where you learn to live with a new normal, like an amputee learns to live without an arm or a leg.

I’m also learning how very deep the grace of God is. I’m learning that His arms are indeed strong enough to carry and long enough to save those who feel they are drowning in sorrow and grief.

I know that faith in God doesn’t always make the road easy, but it makes it possible. I’ve learned when you’ve exhausted all your own strength and peace and joy, God becomes your strength and your peace and your joy.

Strength doesn’t mean the absence of weakness but persistence in the presence of it. Peace doesn’t mean that there’s no conflict or storms, but the knowledge that God can still calm the waves and winds of your soul. Joy doesn’t mean the absence of sorrow and pain but the ultimate belief that God can transform those griefs into gold and work even the worst possible circumstances into something far more beautiful than you could ever have dreamed.

I’m resting in the strength of God tonight. Soon, I’ll go to the shelter and bring home a cat who won’t replace my Lucy but will honor her memory with all the love that’s still left to give.

God is still good, so I am still good.

 

Living in the Now but Not Yet

I have several conflicting emotions at the present. My heart hurts over how my cat Lucy’s health continues to fail and she inches closer and closer to that rainbow bridge.

I’m also at peace and feeling gratitude over 17 years with her that I wouldn’t trade for the world. And yes, I’d go through all of it again (even the hardest parts) in a heartbeat.

How can you be sad to the point that you feel that at any moment you might burst into tears, yet at the same moment be filled with joy? I have no idea, but I’ve known both feelings simultaneously.

For every believer, there’s always going to be a tension between the now and the not yet, between joy and sorrow, between contentment and longing.

The fact is that we’re living in the Kingdom of God now but have yet to see its fullest consummation. Still the hope that carries us is that God will finish what He started and will make everything right and wipe away all the tears from our eyes.

I’m clinging to that hope with all my might tonight.

 

 

Make Every Effort

“Make every effort to live in peace with everyone and to be holy; without holiness no one will see the Lord. See to it that no one falls short of the grace of God and that no bitter root grows up to cause trouble and defile many” (Hebrews 12:14-15, NIV).

Living out your faith requires effort. You have to be intentional about striving for peace. We’re called to be peaceMAKERS who actively pursue peace and not those who passively accept it when it comes our way.

These days, peace means reaching across the aisle to those who think and feel (and vote) differently than you. It means learning to seek dialogue instead of demonizing anyone who disagrees with you. It means instead of always blaming “them” for what’s wrong with the world, looking in the mirror and realizing one of the biggest problems is staring back at you.

What are you doing to make your world better? How are you teaching your children to make a difference in their world? Is it teaching them to hate Republicans (or Democrats)? Or is it showing them how to learn to love your enemies and pray for those who persecute them?

I was reminded today that you might be far less eager to criticize someone’s journey if you only knew where they’ve come from or how far they’ve travelled. That was convicting.

It’s easy to bash someone’s views that run opposite to what you believe. It’s much harder (and much more rewarding) to seek common ground and understanding while loving them. It’s harder to live out the tension of loving people without condoning all of their behavior and beliefs.

Jesus died for everyone, not just for those who loved and followed Him. He died for the Pharisees and Sadducees who opposed Him at every turn. He died for the Roman soldiers who drove the nails into His hands and feet. His love led Him to forgive those who were in the very act of murdering Him.

That’s the standard of love we’re called to. That’s what we strive toward when we make every effort for peace. That’s what will ultimately conquer evil and hate.

 

Come, Lord Jesus: An Advent Prayer for 2016

“Come, long-expected Jesus. Excite in me a wonder at the wisdom and power of Your Father and ours. Receive my prayer as part of my service of the Lord who enlists me in God’s own work for justice.

Come, long-expected Jesus. Excite in me a hunger for peace: peace in the world, peace in my home, peace in myself.

Come, long-expected Jesus. Excite in me a joy responsive to the Father’s joy. I seek His will so I can serve with gladness, singing and love.

Come, long-expected Jesus. Excite in me the joy and love and peace it is right to bring to the manger of my Lord. Raise in me, too, sober reverence for the God who acted there, hearty gratitude for the life begun there, and spirited resolution to serve the Father and Son.

I pray in the name of Jesus Christ, whose advent I hail. Amen” (A Catholic Advent Prayer).

At this time of year, I’m always on the lookout for prayers and quotations that reflect the true heart of the Advent season. I found one just now.

The incarnation of Immanuel means so much more than my world getting put right. It’s about the entire world getting put right. It’s about God inviting me to be a part of the revolution that started not from a throne room and a king or a battlefield and a general but from a manger and an infant.

The question this advent: how can we show tangible love to those around us with whom we live and work and play? How can we be the visible body of Christ to those who have never seen or heard this gospel (or who have seen and heard a very distorted version of it)?

I’m praying that this Advent is about more than just me and my own serenity and fulfillment. I want it to be about more than buying and receiving presents. I want to see change in the world and I want it to start in me.