The Joy of the Small

“It’s the joy of the small that can make life large, and all wonder and worship can only grow out of small and humble things” (Ann Voskamp, 1000 Gifts).

One of my favorite small things is riding in my Jeep with the sun going down and just the right music playing to set the mood. I’m a big believer that certain types of music fit certain times of the day.

One of my favorites (which I wrote a blog about previously), is the eponymous album by Eastmountainsouth, which just so happens to lend itself to driving in the car at dusk. It has a laid-back ambiance which just fits perfectly the close of a good day.

I also love the soft feeling of my pillow and blankets after a long day of work. I read this on the interwebs and thought it seemed appropriate for me: I’m good in bed; I can sleep for days. True story.

Most of all, I know that in the midst of the fears that can suddenly arise and encompass me unawares, I am always surrounded by the Abba Father whose perfect love casts out all fear. I am held by the Immanuel who is always with me, no matter how long and how far I wander.

I love that no matter how much I listen to and follow the wrong voices, I can’t lose the Father’s love for me. It is an impossibility that God in Jesus’ love for me should ever wane or grow cold. In fact, God’s perfect nature means that He can never love me less than completely with an unconditional love that I will never come close to fathoming with my finite mind.

I also think that old-school jazz, a la Red Garland and early John Coltrane, is best for listening to with headphones on in the middle of the night. But not this night. I plan on sleeping like a champ tonight.

 

A Lenten Prayer by Brennan Manning

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I just found this and it reminded me why Brennan Manning is one of my favorite writers of faith.

“In my first-ever experience of being loved for nothing I had done or could do, I moved back and forth between mild ecstasy, silent wonder, and hushed trembling. The aura might be best described as ‘bright darkness.’ The moment lingered on in a timeless now, until without warning I felt a hand grip my heart. It was abrupt and startling.

The awareness of being loved was no longer tender and comforting. The love of Christ, the crucified Son of God, took on the wild fury of a sudden spring storm. Like a dam bursting, a spasm of convulsive crying erupted from the depths of my soul. Jesus died on the cross for me.

Dear Abba,

Ten thousand things are already vying for my attention. Wait, actually make that ten thousand and one. Some of them are shallow — like what shoes I will wear today — but some of them are legitimate: lunch with a friend, a doctor’s appointment, responding to a letter. Still, they are all earthly things. So startle me, I pray. Burst into the compound of my senses and steal me away from the urgent tyrannies already seeking to keep my eyes fixed on things below. You died for me. For me. That is the one thing; nothing else compares.”

Two thoughts: 1) I must find out where  I can get this book and 2) I hope Easter Sunday doesn’t arrive to find me comfortable or complacent, taking God’s love for me for granted. I want it to shake me to my very core and radically disrupt my life. I want to be stirred out of comfortable ruts and compelled into a deeper, wilder, more passionate love for Jesus who didn’t not negotiate percentages on the cross, but gave absolutely 100% of Himself for me.

An Advent Prayer for Every Woman I Know

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Note: There will be two of these. One for all my women friends and one for all my men friends. The prayer for all the men I know will (hopefully) show up on here tomorrow.

I’m praying for you tonight on the Eve of the 2nd Sunday of Advent.

I pray God’s joy invades your hearts tomorrow as you witness the lighting of the Candle of Preparation. May you truly feel the love of your Abba for you in all its fullness and depth and height and completeness.

I’m praying you continue to revel in your femininity and that you let the love of Christ define you, not your marital status, your career, your children, your weight, your reflection in the mirror, or anything else. May you only believe the voice of the One calling you His Beloved Daughter above all the other voices (including your own) calling you a myriad of other names.

I pray you’re making your heart ready to receive the Christ Child this Christmas. With all the busyness of the season, it’s so easy to forget WHY we are buying all these gifts and celebrating with so many parties and get-togethers, but remember it’s Jesus’ birthday we’re celebrating.

I pray you can reach outside of yourself to bring comfort to the ones around you who grieve, hope to the ones around you who despair, and a cup of cold water to those around you in need of the basic necessities.

To all my single friends: may God bless you with a godly man who will sweep you off your feet and show you the true meaning of Romance, not out of a Hollywood movie or a novel but out of God’s Ultimate Love Story where He wooed His own Bride with tender words of compassion. May you find a man who will love you as Christ loves His Church.

To all my married friends: may you be reminded that while your husband and children are gifts, they are not your world. Jesus, who came to us so long ago, is the only one big enough and strong enough to be your entire world. May you see them through the eyes of Christ this year and be more than ever a conduit of His blessing to them.

May you be able to truly experience every part of Christmas this year and find the same awe and wonder that the Shepherds and Wise Men once did so very long ago. May the best gift you receive this year be a heart captivated and enthralled all over again by this Baby born in Bethlehem who grew up to be King.

Amen.

 

God’s Dreams

I think this car best fits my personality (but unfortunately not my checkbook).

I think this car best fits my personality (but unfortunately not my checkbook).

I have a little dream that probably has no basis in reality. It pops up every time I wind up in downtown Franklin. I see myself driving a little red Mini-Cooper to my little stone house with the red door and going inside to work on my next novel.

Maybe there’s a little basis of reality there. I don’t know. It sounds like good life to me.

But I also know that my dreams for myself are nothing compared to God’s dreams for me. His dreams for me are much more vast, much grander in scope, more breathtaking and awe-inspiring than mine could ever be. I’d go so far as so say that if I saw the whole of what God has for me, my little brain would probably explode and little pieces of my mind would end up all over Williamson County. It would not be pretty.

Up to now, I’ve seen only the tiniest glimpses of those dreams and been amazed. God’s dreams for me are the motivation I need to not quit and to not give up on myself or on anyone else in my life.

What are God’s dreams for you? Where do you see God leading you in the days and months and years ahead?

Imagine the grandest dreams you’ve ever had for yourself and multiply those by a thousand. Or better yet, by ten thousand. Then you’ve only begun to touch the dreams God has for you. You’ve only touched the hem of the tapestry of your life God is weaving for you at this very moment.

All I know to do is to trust God’s dreams for me and be faithful in the small details. God has never failed one-up my expectations every single time and I know the next time will definitely not be an exception.

“No one’s ever seen or heard anything like this,
Never so much as imagined anything quite like it—
What God has arranged for those who love him” (1 Corinthians 2:9).

The Art of Wonder and Awe

“Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, “Do it again”; and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, “Do it again” to the sun; and every evening, “Do it again” to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we. The repetition in Nature may not be a mere recurrence; it may be a theatrical ENCORE” (G K Chesterton).

I love watching my niece play. She can get endless delight out of the simplest things and when she finds something she likes, she wants to see it over and over and never tires of it.

I wish I were like that. Sometimes, my sin is that I am too sophisticated and expect to much. I take for granted the sun coming up every morning and going down every night. I expect new flowers to grow and bud each new spring. So little amazed me any more because I take it all for granted and expect it to happen.

But maybe I need the eternal appetite of infancy. To be astounded and amazed at little things like flowers budding or rain falling or the sun breaking through the clouds. To see my life not as a right but as a gift that I receive every single day.

The Bible says that God’s steadfast love and mercies are new every morning. Not because of necessity or duty, but because he never gets tired of showing them. For God, loving me and being merciful to me never gets old. His delight over me is renewed every single day.

I hope that in turn being loved by God and receiving those mercies doesn’t get old. I hope I am always amazed that God should love me and take care of me and give me the chance to know him and make him known. Or as a pastor put it, to be a thimble trying to hold the ocean of God’s love, which can’t help but overflow onto everyone and everything around me.

Maybe what you and I need is a little less grown-up sophistication and self-importance and a little more  childish wonder and awe. Maybe it’s time to be growing young again.

 

 

 

Thoughts on Authenticity and the New Testament Church

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I’ve been reading over Acts 2:42-47 lately and I am struck by how radically different the Early Church was from my own experience of Church. For one thing, we in the South (me included) talk about “going to church,” while the early believers talked about “being the church” and being the hands and feet of Jesus. Church for them was not a place or an event, but a shared way of life.

Where is the sense of awe? Where are the signs and wonders? By that I don’t mean crazy gibberish, but the genuine miraculous moving of God among His people. I think part of the answer is that the early believers spent so much time together. They fellowshipped and broke bread together DAILY. We do good if we see each other twice a week. They shared everything. They were willing to sacrifice of themselves to help fellow believers. They were of one mind, one purpose and had one goal– to lift up Jesus in such a way that He would draw all people to Himself.

They faced a level of persecution that we know nothing about. There was no room for casual Christianity, because to proclaim “Jesus is Lord” was to risk torture and death. I have never faced that in my life.

How do we change course? I know for me, that if I am comfortable and satisfied with the way things are, the staus quo, I will never change. Only with a holy discontent can I seek the face of God to bring the change in my life. When we are willing to take off our masks and be real, to stop talking Christianese and Sunday School answers and be brutally honest about ourselves, then we see change. Only God can initiated that in His people, but we have to want it.

Who’s with me? Who’s tired of just going to church? I see the main problem with the American Church everytime I look in the mirror.  I am the main problem. If I want to see change, I have to be the change. I must desperately want God to change me, to transform me, to live through me in the Person of His Son, Jesus, and through His Holy Spirit.

It’s time to break up our shallow ground and seek the Lord. Who’s with me?