"Even when we’ve buried pain deep, refused to expose it, and the gnawing about wears us through, us with no hope for the fruit — there’s a Gardner and there’s a miracle and there’s redemption in the barren places."
http://www.aholyexperience.com/2011/10/why-you-need-to-keep-on-hoping/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+HolyExperience+%28Holy+Experience%29
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Echoes and Stars: Tuesday's 10: Reasons to Read Jane Austen's Novels...
Echoes and Stars: Tuesday's 10: Reasons to Read Jane Austen's Novels...: 1. C. S. Lewis Loved Her Work. Listen, would you ask C.S. Lewis, the veteran of WWI for his man card because he loved Austen? I didn...
Monday, September 26, 2011
"Cold, sick, silly."
So many things.
A restlessness--no, a frustration--with myself has been growing in me lately. It's nothing new, but it knocks me out almost every time it comes around. Leaves me staggering for a while.
This time, it's brought with it a sickening conviction of how pathetically childish I've been, particularly this year. This year, throughout which I've felt more grown up than ever before...well, I'm more mature in some respects, but more childish than ever in others. This conviction turns my self-image not into that of a little girl, sweet & pretty, but into that of a worm, grey & low & blind. It makes me cringe, and I've been cringing for a week.
I have no doubt that all this is a bump in the road that I've been placed on by my Daddy. I'm grateful for it, too--for what I know He is doing with it. As I read in what's become one of my favorite things to read now, "sometimes, ... hope's waiting is dark." And, as I find myself here, in this darkened-but-hopeful waiting, I am looking around and asking Him how best to act and work here. I try to remember to look up to Him, more than anything else.
My great desire for that extra close friend--an "anam cara," someone to talk to & lean on when I feel most vulnerable...that's found in Him, in my Daddy. He's closer than any dear sibling could ever be--so why on Earth do I keep longing more for a close "brother," when He's there for me & always has been?! I am exhausted from my ignorant pursuits of others in this respect, and so, I will return to looking up to the One Who's proven Himself through the ages & even throughout the span of my own lifetime.
My Daddy has cemented me in the knowledge of His keeping over time--He's proven Himself to me in times it sure felt like He must be somewhere else & otherwise occupied. Even when I've so often been a spoiled brat, indulging in the pleasures of my sin with my left hand, He holds my right hand, & all of me, firmly through it. So, I will look to Him! I will forget & look down or backward or to either side, too, but He brings me back. His gaze is too wondrous, too terrible, too much my perfect & complete home, for me to turn from it for too long. Amen.
(The title of this post is from the 19th chapter of Jane Eyre.)
A restlessness--no, a frustration--with myself has been growing in me lately. It's nothing new, but it knocks me out almost every time it comes around. Leaves me staggering for a while.
This time, it's brought with it a sickening conviction of how pathetically childish I've been, particularly this year. This year, throughout which I've felt more grown up than ever before...well, I'm more mature in some respects, but more childish than ever in others. This conviction turns my self-image not into that of a little girl, sweet & pretty, but into that of a worm, grey & low & blind. It makes me cringe, and I've been cringing for a week.
I have no doubt that all this is a bump in the road that I've been placed on by my Daddy. I'm grateful for it, too--for what I know He is doing with it. As I read in what's become one of my favorite things to read now, "sometimes, ... hope's waiting is dark." And, as I find myself here, in this darkened-but-hopeful waiting, I am looking around and asking Him how best to act and work here. I try to remember to look up to Him, more than anything else.
My great desire for that extra close friend--an "anam cara," someone to talk to & lean on when I feel most vulnerable...that's found in Him, in my Daddy. He's closer than any dear sibling could ever be--so why on Earth do I keep longing more for a close "brother," when He's there for me & always has been?! I am exhausted from my ignorant pursuits of others in this respect, and so, I will return to looking up to the One Who's proven Himself through the ages & even throughout the span of my own lifetime.
My Daddy has cemented me in the knowledge of His keeping over time--He's proven Himself to me in times it sure felt like He must be somewhere else & otherwise occupied. Even when I've so often been a spoiled brat, indulging in the pleasures of my sin with my left hand, He holds my right hand, & all of me, firmly through it. So, I will look to Him! I will forget & look down or backward or to either side, too, but He brings me back. His gaze is too wondrous, too terrible, too much my perfect & complete home, for me to turn from it for too long. Amen.
(The title of this post is from the 19th chapter of Jane Eyre.)
Friday, August 26, 2011
Peace Over Presumption
In light of several things, I posted "Peace over presumption" the other day as my Gmail status. A good friend had this to say about it:
I've been thinking about "Peace over presumption". What a perfect phrase. It forces one to think about how we make up the false futures in our head that creates worry when, really, we don't need all that. Embrace it!
I couldn't have described it better--my friend hit the nail on the head. It's a concept that I rarely act upon, though it comes up in my conscience often enough. But, also, it reminds me to be objective, to understand that, just because all I can see is someone being inconsiderate, or mean, too reserved or even overly friendly, there is much more at work than what I see.
May we remember that we're only part--a significant part--of a gorgeous whole, & we are far from being at the center of it.
May we remember that, as the beloved Elizabeth Barrett Browning put it, "God's gifts put man's best dreams to shame." Besides, "the heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps."
Well, I just wanted to share some of these thoughts. The benediction from Brennan Manning (which I found in St Rich Mullins's biography) seems to fit well here, too:
May all your expectations be frustrated.
May all your plans be thwarted.
May all your desires be withered into nothingness, that you may experience the powerlessness and poverty of a child, and sing, dance, and trust in the love of God who is Father, Son, and Spirit. Amen.
I've been thinking about "Peace over presumption". What a perfect phrase. It forces one to think about how we make up the false futures in our head that creates worry when, really, we don't need all that. Embrace it!
I couldn't have described it better--my friend hit the nail on the head. It's a concept that I rarely act upon, though it comes up in my conscience often enough. But, also, it reminds me to be objective, to understand that, just because all I can see is someone being inconsiderate, or mean, too reserved or even overly friendly, there is much more at work than what I see.
May we remember that we're only part--a significant part--of a gorgeous whole, & we are far from being at the center of it.
May we remember that, as the beloved Elizabeth Barrett Browning put it, "God's gifts put man's best dreams to shame." Besides, "the heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps."
Well, I just wanted to share some of these thoughts. The benediction from Brennan Manning (which I found in St Rich Mullins's biography) seems to fit well here, too:
May all your expectations be frustrated.
May all your plans be thwarted.
May all your desires be withered into nothingness, that you may experience the powerlessness and poverty of a child, and sing, dance, and trust in the love of God who is Father, Son, and Spirit. Amen.
Friday, August 5, 2011
On Stillness (with a capital "S")
“In a tiny town in western North Dakota a little girl offered a gem of spiritual wisdom I find myself returning to when my life becomes too noisy and distractions overwhelm me: ‘Silence reminds me to take my soul with me wherever I go.’” (Kathleen Norris, Amazing Grace: A Vocabulary of Faith)
Not too long ago, I mentioned to a dear friend that I am beginning a journey toward "embracing Stillness". I've come to a point in my life where I've been going non-stop, filling my time with others--trying blindly to embrace community, and I've been tripping all over the place. (Community is one of the greatest things we're given, but it can also be a devastating idol.) I've even run smack into a few people, & it hurt everyone involved. So, I'm taking a step back: re-focusing, and re-discovering the practice of prayer. Not just talking to God--in spurts, throughout the day--but listening to Him, as well.
To be sure, I've a long way to go before embracing Stillness truly becomes part of my regular routine. There's so much more I want to write on this, but I'm rusty at writing. So, for now, I'll end with these three thoughts:
When I'm constantly caught up in a whirlwind of socializing, I cannot think clearly. When I cannot think clearly, the leash on my self-obsessed nature snaps, & I bound haphazardly into the lives of those around me, in an almost Edward Hyde-like manner.
When I take the time to slow down and withdraw for a moment or two, the eyes of my mind and heart have a chance to adjust from the blur of the whirlwind. Better thoughts are then thought, and better seeds are sown.
When I'm still and silent, I really am reminded to be conscious of my soul--just like the author quoted above, & the little girl who shared that wisdom with her.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)