A friend gave me a daily devotional a couple months back, and I recently picked it up and have been loving the beautiful words and daily Scripture readings. This verse really spoke to me this week:
Psalm 27:4 The Message
I'm asking God for one thing,
only one thing:
To live with him in his house
my whole life long.
I'll contemplate his beauty;
I'll study at his feet.
The imagery of living with God in His house is so poetic. Can you picture it? Coming downstairs in the morning to see God sitting at the kitchen table, drinking a glass of orange juice, gathering around a HUGE rich wooden table laden with good things to eat, each member pitching in to help with the household chores. Idyllic, peaceful, harmonious... in today's near 100 degree heat and being 37 weeks pregnant, it seems pretty perfect.
Now. I'm well aware this is probably not what the psalmist had in mind when penning this psalm. Written in the Jewish context, this likely was a reference to the Temple, where God's people gathered to worship Him. Today, the church usually reads this verse as an encouragement to desire to remain in God's presence, despite our physical location of being at work, home, church, wherever. But go with me a minute.
In a household, there are rules (guidelines, whatever you want to call them). Some spoken, some not. We abide with other members of the household, each playing a role, doing our part. In our humanity, it's messy. We don't always get it right. Actually ,we often get it wrong. But there is a certain way of doing things, of approaching things, that is expected. There is a culture to our home.
As I consider my longing to live with God in His house, am I being mindful of His rules? His guidelines, the "culture" of that household? Isn't this what I mean when I say I am trying to live a Christian life - abide by His precepts, His desires for me, His ways and purposes? It's not so different from being part of a household. The household (body) of Christ.
One of the pieces to being part of God's household is looking at life and my circumstances with a God-perspective. A few months back I took part in a women's Bible study, and one of the huge things that really convicted me was the necessity of looking at the world with God tinted lenses. Using His Truth to filter our experiences through. I am not talking about evaluating science through a biblical worldview. This is not the age-old-I'm-so-done-with-it-God-did-it-somehow-and-who-cares-how argument of creation versus evolution. I am talking about the day in day out grit of life. When we face things that are hard, even devastating and crushing, we need to see it through God's Truth. And when we face things that are beautiful and rich and satisfying, we still need to see it through God's Truth.
Welcoming a new baby into a home while my husband seeks a new job to better support his family, while receiving rejection letter after rejection letter, all the while pretty much hating his current workplace? Uncertain of how my own maternity leave with end, seeing roadblocks instead of options? I feel pretty desperate some days. But I cling to the hope that with God tinted lenses, this is an opportunity for us to see Him provide in His ways, His timing, for His purposes. He is GOOD. HE IS ALWAYS GOOD. Does this mean it will work out like we expect and hope? No. But He is good.
The death of a beloved Grandpa, father, father-in-law? Terrible. Maybe even with God tinted lenses it is terrible, after all, we weren't really created to endure death, death is the result of the fall. But with God-tinted lenses, it has also been an opportunity to love and grow closer to a Grandma, mother, mother-in-law. It has been an opportunity to serve, and be served, by a lovely woman who has much to teach and share.
How about something wildly thrilling, like the beauty of good friends and community? A chance for us to enjoy good company? Yes, absolutely. But with God-tinted lenses, it's also a chance to invite others who need this same fellowship, who need people to live life with them, who don't have people to call on.
Too bad I can't buy God-tinted lenses at the store. It's hard. I struggle to orient myself correctly to view the minutes and hours of my day with this in mind. It's a daily prayer, to wake up remembering that I am a member of God's household, living in His home, abiding in His ways.
Studying at His feet.
Thursday, August 16, 2012
Friday, August 3, 2012
a glimpse of the Father's heart
Luke 15: 20-24
The younger son got up and started back to his father. But when he was still a long way off, his father saw him and felt sorry for him. He ran to his son and hugged and kissed him. The son said, “Father, I have sinned against God in heaven and against you. I am no longer good enough to be called your son.” But his father said to the servants, “Hurry and bring the best clothes and put them on him. Give him a ring for his finger and sandals for his feet. Get the best calf and prepare it, so we can eat and celebrate. This son of mine was dead, but has now come back to life. He was lost and has now been found.”
And they began to celebrate.
This afternoon I stood in the driveway and waved good-bye to my 2 1/2 year old and husband. A camping trip was just not something this 35 weeks pregnant mommy could do, so it's a daddy-daughter weekend trip, with me joining just for the day on Saturday. I haven't had a weekend to myself like this in at least 3 years, and while I've been anticipating the freedom, and leisure, the sleeping in (oh, the sleeping in!), my heart caught in my throat as I watched them drive away, praying safety and protection, joy and good memories over them.
I missed the bright presence of my daughter almost immediately, and was glad to have things I wanted to do that took me out of the house for the first part of the day. It's too big and empty without them here, something is so obviously missing.
How must the Father's heart break when His children turn away?
No wonder the father in Luke 15 saw his lost son returning home, even while he was still a long way off. He'd never stopped waiting, hoping, praying, anticipating the joyous return of his child.
Whether we wander for years or our hearts stray only momentarily, God the Father is just waiting to celebrate our return to His embrace.
Sunday, July 29, 2012
when God shows up
If you've been in church for any number of years, I imagine you've experienced some Sunday worship services that send your heart soaring with love and thankfulness. I also imagine that you have sat through plenty of services where instead of focusing on the words of the songs, the depth of the sermon, you're planning the schedule for the week, worrying over various big or small life circumstances, or, let's be honest, catching up on facebook. Don't deny it - I've been there.
Today was one of those Sundays where my mind was prone to wandering. I have a very (stress, very) amateur musical background, and I know just enough about worship, church practices, and theology to make me dangerously critical when I get in that mood. I'm not proud of it. It is just is. I try hard to bury it, but sometimes it creeps out.
We attend a small church. Most of the time, I love that. We don't have a lot of show, if you know what I mean. No fancy lights, no huge worship band, nothing that shouts of trying to create an emotional high that ushers people into God's presence. I am an occasional vocalist for our worship team, and while we have some amazing and talented musicians, we're pretty humble.
Whatever place I was in this morning did not lead me to embrace the humility of our little band of Jesus followers.
But you know what? God showed up.
In the midst of the congregation's hesitant (read - less than enthusiastic) response to the singing, a few sort of awkward moments, there was a stirring of hearts, a swelling of voices raised to the King. A testimony was shared, a young man moved to share about something God was doing in his life. Our pastor spontaneously adapted sermon plans and prayer times to make room for God's work. It was that thing that you can only describe as the sense that God was moving. He was there, in our midst. The Spirit of God descending on people who had gathered to declare their love and praise to Him. I found myself experiencing the grace of those moments, laid bare a bit for my judgment and hard-heartedness.
Micah 6:8 is fast becoming a favorite verse, as it crops up here and there: "He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?"
He does not require a fancy church service to draw people to Him. He does not require loud worship. He does not require a charismatic sermon filled with pithy one-liners.
He requires a people with hearts lifted to Him, ready to anticipate His movement in their lives and in the world. Ready to respond with love and grace.
Today was one of those Sundays where my mind was prone to wandering. I have a very (stress, very) amateur musical background, and I know just enough about worship, church practices, and theology to make me dangerously critical when I get in that mood. I'm not proud of it. It is just is. I try hard to bury it, but sometimes it creeps out.
We attend a small church. Most of the time, I love that. We don't have a lot of show, if you know what I mean. No fancy lights, no huge worship band, nothing that shouts of trying to create an emotional high that ushers people into God's presence. I am an occasional vocalist for our worship team, and while we have some amazing and talented musicians, we're pretty humble.
Whatever place I was in this morning did not lead me to embrace the humility of our little band of Jesus followers.
But you know what? God showed up.
In the midst of the congregation's hesitant (read - less than enthusiastic) response to the singing, a few sort of awkward moments, there was a stirring of hearts, a swelling of voices raised to the King. A testimony was shared, a young man moved to share about something God was doing in his life. Our pastor spontaneously adapted sermon plans and prayer times to make room for God's work. It was that thing that you can only describe as the sense that God was moving. He was there, in our midst. The Spirit of God descending on people who had gathered to declare their love and praise to Him. I found myself experiencing the grace of those moments, laid bare a bit for my judgment and hard-heartedness.
Micah 6:8 is fast becoming a favorite verse, as it crops up here and there: "He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?"
He does not require a fancy church service to draw people to Him. He does not require loud worship. He does not require a charismatic sermon filled with pithy one-liners.
He requires a people with hearts lifted to Him, ready to anticipate His movement in their lives and in the world. Ready to respond with love and grace.
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
freedom
Ironically, ever since I sent that email to my girlfriends who have also embarked in the 7 experiment, there has been huge relief flooding over me. And, even more ironically, the relief led to an incredibly productive weekend, including a thorough examination of the possessions in our home and a resulting pile of boxes to sell at our church garage sale benefiting an orphanage in Haiti. Before sending that email, I was a mess of guilt for "not doing enough". I was the kind of mess that brings confusion to the beautiful assurance of Matthew 11:28-30: If you are tired from carrying heavy burdens, come to me and I will give you rest. Take the yoke I give you. Put it on your shoulders and learn from me. I am gentle and humble, and you will find rest. This yoke is easy to bear, and this burden is light.
My legalistic, perfectionist self has a hard time letting go of the letter of the law sometimes. The list of shoulds and supposed tos is too tempting; a recipe for success to follow as I meander through life. But I cling to it too closely. With 7, I was expecting myself to tackle the project the way the author of the book did - which was wonderful and impacting for her. But for me in this season? It was draining me of any energy I had to really ponder the spirit of simplifying life in such a way that Jesus can be magnified. As a wonderful friend reminded me, none of it was really ever about 7, but about living together, learning, and loving Jesus more.
That I can do, in this and every season.
My legalistic, perfectionist self has a hard time letting go of the letter of the law sometimes. The list of shoulds and supposed tos is too tempting; a recipe for success to follow as I meander through life. But I cling to it too closely. With 7, I was expecting myself to tackle the project the way the author of the book did - which was wonderful and impacting for her. But for me in this season? It was draining me of any energy I had to really ponder the spirit of simplifying life in such a way that Jesus can be magnified. As a wonderful friend reminded me, none of it was really ever about 7, but about living together, learning, and loving Jesus more.
That I can do, in this and every season.
Thursday, July 19, 2012
a letter to my 7 sojourners
Girls,
The texts tonight regarding possessions month were the final
straw in my conviction to send this email. We’ve all been quiet these past
weeks and there has been a lot going on. On my end, after a lot of prayer and
thought about this, I think I need to admit that this is just not the season
for me to devote myself to 7. I suppose this email is simply confession time.
God has used these books and conversations with all of you in numerous ways and
I am grateful to have heard His voice and to have been challenged in some good
good good ways. I’m still processing and praying about so much and I’m excited
at how God is moving in my heart. I can tell I will not be the same in my
identity in Christ, how I view the purpose of church, or the purpose of Jesus
followers in the world. As one of you so wisely said, now that these things have
been revealed to me, it would be pure disobedience to NOT act and continue
seeking what follow through looks like. I still have a list of books I want to
read, and I genuinely want to continuing exploring and praying through these
ideas. And yes, praying about my actions and what to DO with all of it. I’m
feeling all out of sorts about where I fit in God’s work right now, especially
given this season of life, but it’s a good thing, and I know He will lead and
provide ways for me to love people and serve Him. I’m committed to keep
blogging and thinking and praying and NOT FORGETTING.
At the same time (warning, this may sound like the whiny
pity-party part), I am 7 weeks away from a gigantic family transition, and
feeling emotionally thin and burdened by an all out messy house, a
not-yet-put-together nursery, tasks we’ve committed to help my mother-in-law with
this summer, pulling together my maternity leave plans while still desperately
praying I will be able to quit, supporting my husband in his roller coaster job
search and also the restructure in his current workplace, remaining connected
with friends, family, neighbors and random acquaintances and responding to
needs that God puts in front of me – which He has, which is awesome!… I’m
already (perhaps selfishly) feeling broken and poured out in these things. All
while trying to remember that God promises provision and really wanting to
trust Him and thank Him for the enormous blessings in my life. I have much to
be abundantly grateful for. But all of this emotional upheaval and the
spiritual rigor of clinging to trust is about as much as I can handle right
now; I just don’t have the bandwidth to add in going to great lengths to clear
out my house or reduce waste in my life. I suppose the media fast will be
forced on me considering a baby will be arriving soon. And maybe the Sabbath
month will work in some capacity, considering I’ll be up in the middle of the
night anyway. J I just don’t have it
in me to make huge accommodations and start (more) big projects.
I will faithfully continue to pray for each of you, and
would love to still hear how God is working through you in this adventure of 7.
And I do want to help with the garage sale (when is it?), and contribute to
other things that may emerge (community garden?). So please keep me posted so I
know how to pray and share your funny stories about finding friend’s wedding
invitations from 10 years ago stacked in boxes in your closets. J
And, as you read this nutty email, if God moves you to call
me out and challenge me to keep going, I promise to be open to listening. The
last thing I want to do is let myself off the hook and make excuses for why I
can’t be some radical girl who gives away 7 items each day for a month. I hate
thinking I am quitting. I invite the accountability if God so moves your heart.
Maybe this is just a surge of hormones these past weeks. I’ll be the first to
admit I’m a little crazy feeling.
Your crazy friend (and thank you if you read all the way to
the end of this),
Sara
Thursday, July 12, 2012
there is a season
I've made a mental note that grand adventures like 7 are probably not ideal ventures to undertake when you are pregnant, praying through future job and childcare arrangements, and also have a little child (or more) running around your home. Not that this has been impossible... just hard to stick to. Or maybe I am just easily distracted.
Clothing month came and went, and while there were days I hated the few shirts I had to select from, this month was really not that different from being pregnant and have a limited wardrobe anyway. In many ways, I entered the month already feeling the convictions of placing too much importance on appearance (not that I don't still struggle with it and bow to the temptation of retail therapy from time to time). At the same time, this season of life for us doesn't lend itself to having a gigantic clothing selection with designer labels. Frankly, I haven't stepped foot in an Ann Taylor or Nordstrom for many many months. I shop at Target a lot, where I can also pick up a new shirt, shampoo, some organizing bins, and dog food without having to make multiple trips (which require the loading and unloading of a toddler from the car each time). We're already in a season of trying to simplify and reduce, for the sake of sanity.
I did read a really interesting article that Jen Hatmaker (author of 7) posted on facebook: The Afterlife of Cheap Clothes. It made me think twice about just what to do. Clearly simply cleaning out my clothes closet of the things I don't really need and dumping the pile at Goodwill is not necessarily the automatic answer. They have an excess already, too. So instead, I've been thinking more specifically about who I can give these items to. For example, I think we're at a place where we can give away all the baby girl clothes our daughter has outgrown. Instead of Goodwill, I think I'll contact the Pregnancy Resource Center and see if they have need, or even ask around amongst my friends to see if they know of anything expecting a baby girl who might want some almost good as new hand me downs.
So that's clothes.
July is possessions, which is one I had eagerly anticipated and still am hopeful for. But, two back to back out of town weekends, plus the holiday, plus, well, life, and my hands and feet are still not yet in step with my heart in this area. My goal had been to go through our house looking for the items that truly are excessive. Games we never play. Extra toiletry bags for travel. Toys we've outgrown and won't need for number 2. Books I'll never really read again. That mango cutter that sure is a neat idea but never seems to work correctly for me (the 1 or 2 times a year I actually buy a mango and remember I have the mango cutter). I also had the idea of gathering the items and selling them in a garage sale, with the intent of donating the profit. That has actually evolved into what will likely be a church-wide garage sale, with the proceeds going to the orphanage in Haiti that I served at along with others from my church in the fall of 2011.
Writing this all down, it sounds just as tiring and uninspired as I currently feel. I suppose some days and weeks are like that, though, and truly, if the things I've been thinking and praying about are a movement of God in my life, I suppose I should expect some discouragement and wind-sucked-from-my-sails feelings. Wherever God is moving, isn't the Enemy taking special note? I've never been one to really go there in my interpretation of events and my feelings, but the more my eyes are opened to the spiritual truths behind every day life, the more I see how the Enemy does not want truth spoken, realized, lived. Guess I need to polish my armor a little bit (Ephesians 6), and pray for endurance.
Wouldn't you know it, this was the reading in Psalms for today's Bible reading:
Psalm 143:7-8
Answer me quickly, O Lord!
My spirit fails!
Hide not your face from me,
lest I be like those who go down to the pit.Let me hear in the morning of your steadfast love,
for in you I trust.
Make me know the way I should go,
for to you I lift up my soul.
Amen.
Clothing month came and went, and while there were days I hated the few shirts I had to select from, this month was really not that different from being pregnant and have a limited wardrobe anyway. In many ways, I entered the month already feeling the convictions of placing too much importance on appearance (not that I don't still struggle with it and bow to the temptation of retail therapy from time to time). At the same time, this season of life for us doesn't lend itself to having a gigantic clothing selection with designer labels. Frankly, I haven't stepped foot in an Ann Taylor or Nordstrom for many many months. I shop at Target a lot, where I can also pick up a new shirt, shampoo, some organizing bins, and dog food without having to make multiple trips (which require the loading and unloading of a toddler from the car each time). We're already in a season of trying to simplify and reduce, for the sake of sanity.
I did read a really interesting article that Jen Hatmaker (author of 7) posted on facebook: The Afterlife of Cheap Clothes. It made me think twice about just what to do. Clearly simply cleaning out my clothes closet of the things I don't really need and dumping the pile at Goodwill is not necessarily the automatic answer. They have an excess already, too. So instead, I've been thinking more specifically about who I can give these items to. For example, I think we're at a place where we can give away all the baby girl clothes our daughter has outgrown. Instead of Goodwill, I think I'll contact the Pregnancy Resource Center and see if they have need, or even ask around amongst my friends to see if they know of anything expecting a baby girl who might want some almost good as new hand me downs.
So that's clothes.
July is possessions, which is one I had eagerly anticipated and still am hopeful for. But, two back to back out of town weekends, plus the holiday, plus, well, life, and my hands and feet are still not yet in step with my heart in this area. My goal had been to go through our house looking for the items that truly are excessive. Games we never play. Extra toiletry bags for travel. Toys we've outgrown and won't need for number 2. Books I'll never really read again. That mango cutter that sure is a neat idea but never seems to work correctly for me (the 1 or 2 times a year I actually buy a mango and remember I have the mango cutter). I also had the idea of gathering the items and selling them in a garage sale, with the intent of donating the profit. That has actually evolved into what will likely be a church-wide garage sale, with the proceeds going to the orphanage in Haiti that I served at along with others from my church in the fall of 2011.
Writing this all down, it sounds just as tiring and uninspired as I currently feel. I suppose some days and weeks are like that, though, and truly, if the things I've been thinking and praying about are a movement of God in my life, I suppose I should expect some discouragement and wind-sucked-from-my-sails feelings. Wherever God is moving, isn't the Enemy taking special note? I've never been one to really go there in my interpretation of events and my feelings, but the more my eyes are opened to the spiritual truths behind every day life, the more I see how the Enemy does not want truth spoken, realized, lived. Guess I need to polish my armor a little bit (Ephesians 6), and pray for endurance.
Wouldn't you know it, this was the reading in Psalms for today's Bible reading:
Psalm 143:7-8
Answer me quickly, O Lord!
My spirit fails!
Hide not your face from me,
lest I be like those who go down to the pit.Let me hear in the morning of your steadfast love,
for in you I trust.
Make me know the way I should go,
for to you I lift up my soul.
Amen.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
being broken and poured out
I have thoughts whirling around my head and I know I need to write them out, but I am not sure where to start.
These past few weeks, I've been feeling heavy and burdened by my own selfishness and inward focus. I keep thinking, how is it that I have been a Christian for 16 years and am only now realizing some things that seem so basic and central to the Christian faith? I feel like a child in my faith, when I've spent years attending church, studying the Bible in both church and academic settings, reading theology and books on Christian living. How is it that I'm only now coming face to face with the concept of living my life in a missional way for Jesus?
I am knee deep in repentance. Forgive me, Jesus. I've missed so many opportunities to love people in Jesus name, to go out into my own neighborhood as a missionary to my community. It's not that I think I've lived in a way that denies my faith, but I've been pursuing growth in Christ while missing the mark.
Acts 11 describes a scene from the early church, where believers in Antioch learned that a devastating famine was coming. The church in Antioch decided they should send whatever help they could to their brothers and sisters.
Do I do this? When I hear of terrible things happening across the globe, across the nation, across my city, my neighborhood, do I drop everything and give of myself, my resources, my time?
Yes and no.
It was just prior to these verses, that we read that it was in Antioch that the Lord's followers were first called Christians. The word Christian means "little Christ". I'd like to know, who coined the term? Was it a follower of Jesus? Someone outside the little church, looking in? Either way, these people were living in such a way that people thought their way of life was worthy of being called "little Christ."
Would my way of life earn the same respect? Would the church throughout America?
We're missing something. I'm missing something.
As if reading Jen Hatmaker's book, 7, didn't mess with me enough, I just finished the prequel, Interrupted. It's all still sinking in. One of the things that has really struck me is her discussion of the Passover as described in the gospels (Luke 22, for example). Hatmaker challenges us to rethink what Jesus meant when he said "Do this, in remembrance of me." Most believers read this scene and incorporate the sacrament of communion into their Christian practices. The bread is Jesus' body, broken for us. The wine is Jesus' blood, poured out for us. Eat the bread, drink the juice, in remembrance of Jesus' sacrifice on the cross. There is a lot of meaning in this ritual, and God has used this teaching to grow my faith in Him.
Hatmaker suggests there is more to draw from this. That when Jesus said "do this" he wasn't merely talking about eating the bread and drinking the wine, but that he was telling his disciples to go out into the world in such a way as to be broken for others, as Jesus was broken for us. To pour themselves out for people, as Jesus poured himself out for us.
That's a whole different spin on the Passover meal that I have never heard before. But so rich and deep in meaning.
And yet in just a few short weeks, we'll be welcoming our 2nd child into our home, circling back around to the newborn stage once again, when it seems like life has just finally settled into a somewhat predictable routine since before having kids. Really, God? Is this really the time to bring conviction to my heart about the need to be more engaged in my community and service toward my neighbors? Is this really the time when you are challenging me to be broken for others, to pour myself out? I remember all too well the first year with our daughter, the feelings of having nothing left to give at the end of the day (heck, by mid-day I was often drained and exhausted). What does all of this look like for a mom with two children under the age of 3, uncertain of how work situations and childcare will play out in the next few months? I know part of the answer may be that God is calling us moms to be broken and poured out for our children, and yes, I believe there is truth here. But I also don't want to use that as an excuse to avoid lifting my eyes higher to the needs beyond my own family.
I can only wonder that God is preparing my heart. Giving me new eyes to begin to see opportunities. Readying me to be in a place of wanting to say Yes, God when I feel that quickening in my spirit that tells me He is doing something and I better be available for Him to use.
Here's my final thought for now. Several good friends are also walking this journey with me, seeking God with fresh eyes, challenging themselves with considering new ways of Christian living. And yes, still pursuing the crazy fasts (still currently in clothing month, by the way, and disliking my 7 items more and more each day - more thoughts here later). As one lovely friend put it, now that God has shown us these truths, we can't just go back to the old patterns we've been used to. If God is leading me toward something new, I can't just ignore it, that would be direct disobedience. Ouch.
These past few weeks, I've been feeling heavy and burdened by my own selfishness and inward focus. I keep thinking, how is it that I have been a Christian for 16 years and am only now realizing some things that seem so basic and central to the Christian faith? I feel like a child in my faith, when I've spent years attending church, studying the Bible in both church and academic settings, reading theology and books on Christian living. How is it that I'm only now coming face to face with the concept of living my life in a missional way for Jesus?
I am knee deep in repentance. Forgive me, Jesus. I've missed so many opportunities to love people in Jesus name, to go out into my own neighborhood as a missionary to my community. It's not that I think I've lived in a way that denies my faith, but I've been pursuing growth in Christ while missing the mark.
Acts 11 describes a scene from the early church, where believers in Antioch learned that a devastating famine was coming. The church in Antioch decided they should send whatever help they could to their brothers and sisters.
Do I do this? When I hear of terrible things happening across the globe, across the nation, across my city, my neighborhood, do I drop everything and give of myself, my resources, my time?
Yes and no.
It was just prior to these verses, that we read that it was in Antioch that the Lord's followers were first called Christians. The word Christian means "little Christ". I'd like to know, who coined the term? Was it a follower of Jesus? Someone outside the little church, looking in? Either way, these people were living in such a way that people thought their way of life was worthy of being called "little Christ."
Would my way of life earn the same respect? Would the church throughout America?
We're missing something. I'm missing something.
As if reading Jen Hatmaker's book, 7, didn't mess with me enough, I just finished the prequel, Interrupted. It's all still sinking in. One of the things that has really struck me is her discussion of the Passover as described in the gospels (Luke 22, for example). Hatmaker challenges us to rethink what Jesus meant when he said "Do this, in remembrance of me." Most believers read this scene and incorporate the sacrament of communion into their Christian practices. The bread is Jesus' body, broken for us. The wine is Jesus' blood, poured out for us. Eat the bread, drink the juice, in remembrance of Jesus' sacrifice on the cross. There is a lot of meaning in this ritual, and God has used this teaching to grow my faith in Him.
Hatmaker suggests there is more to draw from this. That when Jesus said "do this" he wasn't merely talking about eating the bread and drinking the wine, but that he was telling his disciples to go out into the world in such a way as to be broken for others, as Jesus was broken for us. To pour themselves out for people, as Jesus poured himself out for us.
That's a whole different spin on the Passover meal that I have never heard before. But so rich and deep in meaning.
And yet in just a few short weeks, we'll be welcoming our 2nd child into our home, circling back around to the newborn stage once again, when it seems like life has just finally settled into a somewhat predictable routine since before having kids. Really, God? Is this really the time to bring conviction to my heart about the need to be more engaged in my community and service toward my neighbors? Is this really the time when you are challenging me to be broken for others, to pour myself out? I remember all too well the first year with our daughter, the feelings of having nothing left to give at the end of the day (heck, by mid-day I was often drained and exhausted). What does all of this look like for a mom with two children under the age of 3, uncertain of how work situations and childcare will play out in the next few months? I know part of the answer may be that God is calling us moms to be broken and poured out for our children, and yes, I believe there is truth here. But I also don't want to use that as an excuse to avoid lifting my eyes higher to the needs beyond my own family.
I can only wonder that God is preparing my heart. Giving me new eyes to begin to see opportunities. Readying me to be in a place of wanting to say Yes, God when I feel that quickening in my spirit that tells me He is doing something and I better be available for Him to use.
Here's my final thought for now. Several good friends are also walking this journey with me, seeking God with fresh eyes, challenging themselves with considering new ways of Christian living. And yes, still pursuing the crazy fasts (still currently in clothing month, by the way, and disliking my 7 items more and more each day - more thoughts here later). As one lovely friend put it, now that God has shown us these truths, we can't just go back to the old patterns we've been used to. If God is leading me toward something new, I can't just ignore it, that would be direct disobedience. Ouch.
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