Those Sleepless Nights

I had a rough night last night. Well, that may be overstating things a bit. Last night, I didn’t sleep as well as I normally do. That’s more accurate.

I tossed and turned until after 1 am, then managed to wake up several more times in the night. At least I didn’t wake up one minute before my alarm is set to go off. That’s the absolute worst.

So I’m tired.

The Bible says that God grants sleep to those He loves.

I know that more than a few of you know what it’s like to go whole nights without sleeping. It can get to be a frustrating process, with you getting more and more weary and less and less able to sleep.

Maybe God has you up in the middle of the night for a reason. Maybe He’s putting something (or someone) on your mind to turn over to Him in prayer.

Pay attention to what God whispers in your ear on those sleepless nights. Maybe cease from all your tossing and turning and be still. Listen for that still, small voice that calls you Beloved.

I hope that I’ll sleep better tonight. I think I will. But in case I don’t, just know that I will likely be praying for some of you.

 

Radner Lake and Henry David Thoreau

image When was the last time you paused and stood absolutely still and silent for one minute? When was the last time you went to a place of solitude and did nothing more than listen to the quiet? I walked my favorite trail at Radnor Lake State Park again today. Even after so many times, it still feels like I’m leaving Middle Tennessee for Middle Earth. I feel like I could be Frodo Baggins out for a hike in the Shire. image When I stood still, I could hear nature all around me. Leaves rustling, birds singing, wind humming. Even myself thinking. I think God speaks loudest to me in the quiet. When I’m still and my brain isn’t racing with 9,956 tabs open at the same time. Like He did with Elijah, God often chooses to speak through a still, small voice that won’t compete with all the noise and clamor around us. image I can hear that Voice when I’m at Radnor Lake and when I’m sitting in St. Paul’s Episcopal Church or when I’m laying in bed late at night. I confess I’m still not very good at listening. I’m still too impatient and easily distracted. If I try to be still, immediately I think of something I need to do or a note I need to write. Complete stillness is so unnatural for me. For all of us.

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I need to get out more. And by out, I mean to these quiet places with no flashing neon lights or constant noise. Sometimes I think I could be like Mr. Thoreau and find myself a Walden Pond to visit for a while. Yeah, that’d be nice.

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Easter Season Liturgy Part III

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“Your light is the only light we need
as we travel through life’s mystery
Your word the only voice we hear
that still small voice that leads us
to the place where we should be
Your presence is the only company we need
as we walk this narrow road
Your fellowship the warmth we crave
to help us on our way
May the truth of Easter
The joy of Easter
And the blessings of Easter
Be with us this day and all days
AMEN”

“Almighty Father, whose dear Son, on the night before he suffered, instituted the Sacrament of his Body and Blood: Mercifully grant that we may receive it thankfully in remembrance of Jesus Christ our Lord, who in these holy mysteries gives us a pledge of eternal life; and who now lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever. Amen.”

It is Maundy Thursday, the night before Good Friday, when Jesus endured the sufferings and torture of the cross. It is on this night that He instituted the Lord’s Supper, also referred to as Communion or Eucharist.

On this night, He foreshadowed the brokenness of His own body with the bread and the pouring out of His blood with the wine. He gave the single command to “Do this in remembrance of me.

Regardless of whether you believe the elements are symbols or actually become the body and blood of Jesus, do this in remembrance of Me.

Not because you are sinless, but because you are forgiven, do this in remembrance of Me.

Not because we hope for victory, but because the victory has already been won, do this in remembrance of Me.

Come to the table, with hands open in a posture of submission, dependence, and obedience, and take these elements.

Do this in remembrance of Me.”

 

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.

Great North Star, But I’m Tired

I’m tired. When I left my temp job for the day, I was actually sore. I can’t remember the last time I was ever sore from a job, but I was today. Plus, I haven’t slept very well the last two nights.

I don’t think that will be a problem tonight.

I am reminded of the verse in Matthew where Jesus says, “Come to me, all you who labor and are weary, and I will give you rest.” It could also be rendered, “Come to me, all who work to the point of exhaustion, and I will give you rest.”

I think it can mean sleep. But more than that, it means that we cease striving so much. It means that we give up the ever-present need to always perform and to do and to acquire. It means that we are content with who we are and where we are in life.

It means that we know that ultimately it’s not up to us. God’s in control and he will take care of us. As simple as that sounds, we are a forgetful people who need reminding of the very simple and basic truths that we aren’t in control.

We need to remind ourselves that it’s alright to leave some things undone every now and then. It’s not the end of the world if every box isn’t checked on that to-do list. It’s no good accomplishing all your goals if the end result is burn-out and exhaustion. We need rest.

We need to cultivate times of quiet reflection where we can hear the still, small voice that refuses to speak over the continuous drone of our everyday lives. The voice that reminds us that we are not the sum of our possessions or our activity, but we are who God made us to be and who he calls us– beloved.

So take time tonight or some time in the morning to be still and know that God’s plans for you are good. Remember to find times of refreshment and rest and solitude.

That’s what I’m about to do.

 

And now for something completely different. . . and random . . .

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Here are some thoughts I had on the way home from the Greek Festival.

1) As I was watching the Greek dancing, a little voice in my head said, “You don’t learn to dance by watching other people dance. You learn to dance by dancing.” And every dance starts with taking that dreaded first step. You don’t learn to live by watching other people live; you learn to live by living– taking risks, learning from failure, and laughing at yourself. You don’t learn faith by reading about it or studying the meanings of the various words used for faith in the Bible, you learn by trusting (or “faith”-ing”) God. By a moment by moment declaration of surrender and trust in God.

2) As my favorite philosopher, Ferris Beuller, said, “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop every once in a while and look around, you could miss it.” If you are all about living life and warp speed, you miss all the little things that make life worth living. Take time to smell a rose or watch a mother play with her newborn or marvel at a sunrise or breath in the night air. Wherever you are, just be in the moment. Just be. Find a quiet secluded spot and listen for that Still Small Voice that spoke worlds into existence.

3) I’m borrowing this from a friend. The next time you are tempted to get aggrevated or irritated at something or someone, ask yourself one question (not “Do ya feel lucky, punk?”). Ask, “Is this something that Jesus died for?” Did Jesus die to make traffic move more smoothly, or to make the office copier operate jam-free, or to make all people nicer? Then why do those things make me angry. No, wait. They don’t make me angry. Nothing can make me do anything, but I choose to be angry. And I can choose not to be. Jesus died not for the deserving, but for the very undeserving, of which I am one. If I want to be like Jesus, I need to show grace toward the people that cut me off in traffic, the copiers that won’t copy, and the meanies of the world.

4) Remember that no matter how hard it is to love someone who has hurt you or let you down, God showed that such love is possible. True love will never, never, never, never, never, never, never, never, never give up on anyone at any time, because God never, never, never, never. . . .etc. . . . gave up on us. True love, or agape love, is impossible, but I have learned that God is really good at making the impossibles into possibilities. So love each other like your life depended on it. Love like you want to be love. Love like God has loved you. Let God love you and love through you.

As always, I believe. Help my unbelief. Make me a vessel through which You can pour out love to a world desperately in need of it. My life, whether I live one more day, or 100 more years, is in Your hands.