Sunday, April 29, 2012

Stagnation

Stir the stagnant waters of my soul
Sounds like a safe line of a song to sing
But it's not

Stirring stirs the heart
Displacing calm waters
To a churning muck and mess

Doesn't feel right
Doesn't smell right
Better when it was on the bottom

Out of sight
Out of mind
Didn't even know it was there

But time and days
And things get thrown in
And if not tossed out
They sink
And stagnate
And putrify
There on the bottom

Stir the stagnant waters of my soul
Merge me with Your living stream
Keep it flowing
In and out
Pure and clear

Hurry, please

Saturday, April 28, 2012

Blowing in the Wind

For the Essentials in Spiritual Formation Certificate Course with Dan Wilt at Worshiptraining.com

Wind: An Inspired Life ~ Beauty, Heroes and Dreams

“Wind speaks of our need to lift our sails into the wind, to learn the arts of riding the winds that are sent to us, and working with God to manipulate our sails so that we can get to where God has invited us to go.” [1]

A relief to know it’s not all up to me…relief to know that I can lift up my sail to the wind of the Spirit and allow Him to blow and direct my life.

Doing that doesn’t come easily, however. My desire to control, to know, and to understand often overrides my desire to flow, to rest, and to sail by the Spirit.

It is through the spiritual discipline of quiet and rest that I find strength to live the inspired life, a life full of passion, full of love, full of a sense of mission that goes beyond myself and reaches into the depths of the love of Christ that I might join in His mission of seeing “humanity restored, new creation coming in people and in the cosmos and deliverance coming to Israel.”[2] Spiritual discipline exposes the deep places of my heart to beauty, heroes and dreams.

Intentionally building moments of beauty into my life for inspiration opens up space for God to refresh and refill me with His Spirit, so I feel as if I’ve been “’lifted and struck’ like a bell,” [3] my life ringing with purpose and promise.

I need to find heroes whose lives are an inspiration to me, those who help me remember that “God has placed greatness in [me], by reflecting that greatness in themselves.” [4] I must purpose to spend time learning from them, seeing Jesus in them.

Dreaming with God reminds me I am part of something bigger and that He has not left me alone; rather, He longs to fill my life with His strength so that every moment of every day might be lived from a strong center, confident that He has woven treasures of inspiration throughout my day. These golden threads can be found no matter how mundane or routine the task, and learning to “be inspired in the midst of…duties” keeps me childlike, doing the same thing over and over again “through excess, not absence of life.” [5]

G.K. Chesterton says, “…grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony…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.” [6]

May I grow in my ability to lean into the wind, finding inspiration in beauty, heroes, and dreams. May I never tire of loving in the midst of duty. May I always find beauty in my surroundings and be inspired to live fully present, reflecting the greatness of God in the ordinary and extraordinary of every-day life.



1 Dan Wilt, Essentials in Spiritual Formation digital book, 15

2 ibid, 19

3 ibid, 17

4 ibid, 17

5 ibid, 18

6 ibid, 18

Friday, April 27, 2012

Wind: An Inspired Life


Beauty, Heroes and Dreams

“Wind speaks of our need to lift our sails into the wind, to learn the arts of riding the winds that are sent to us, and working with God to manipulate our sails so that we can get to where God has invited us to go.” [1]

A relief to know it’s not all up to me…relief to know that I can lift up my sail to the wind of the Spirit and allow Him to blow and direct my life.

Doing that doesn’t come easily, however.  My desire to control, to know, and to understand often overrides my desire to flow, to rest, and to sail by the Spirit.

It is through the spiritual discipline of quiet and rest that I find strength to live the inspired life, a life full of passion, full of love, full of a sense of mission that goes beyond myself and reaches into the depths of the love of Christ that I might join in His mission of seeing “humanity restored, new creation coming in people and in the cosmos and deliverance coming to Israel.”[2] Spiritual discipline exposes the deep places of my heart to beauty, heroes and dreams.

Intentionally building moments of beauty into my life for inspiration opens up space for God to refresh and refill me with His Spirit, so I feel as if I’ve been “’lifted and struck’ like a bell,” [3] my life ringing with purpose and promise.

I need to find heroes whose lives are an inspiration to me, those who help me remember that “God has placed greatness in [me], by reflecting that greatness in themselves.” [4]  I must purpose to spend time learning from them, seeing Jesus in them.

Dreaming with God reminds me I am part of something bigger and that He has not left me alone; rather, He longs to fill my life with His strength so that every moment of every day might be lived from a strong center, confident that He has woven treasures of inspiration throughout my day.  These golden threads can be found no matter how mundane or routine the task, and learning to “be inspired in the midst of…duties” keeps me childlike, doing the same thing over and over again “through excess, not absence of life.” [5]

G.K. Chesterton says, “…grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony.  But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony…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.” [6]

May I grow in my ability to lean into the wind, finding inspiration in beauty, heroes, and dreams.  May I never tire of loving in the midst of duty.  May I always find beauty in my surroundings and be inspired to live fully present, reflecting the greatness of God in the ordinary and extraordinary of every-day life.

1 Dan Wilt, Essentials in Spiritual Formation digital book, 15
2 ibid, 19
3 ibid, 17
4 ibid, 17
5 ibid, 18
6 ibid, 18

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

If you were a better mom, you would...

Ever hear that one pop through your head?  Or some version of it.  To make it more universal, you fill in your own blank:

If you were a better ____________, you would...

Just now I was sitting at the table reading through my daughter's written assignments as I ate my breakfast.  I was minding my own business.  Doing what a good homeschool mom ought to be doing: multitasking while sitting down and eating.

Out of nowhere, I think: "If you were a better mom, you would have been more creative with those bandannas you gave as party favors over the years at your children's birthday parties.  You would have had every party attender sign one for your children at each party.  You would have collected them for your children and made them into a quilt for them."

What?

Talk about an imagination.  While I might like to think that if I would've thought of that back then and started said collection that I would someday make them into a quilt, the reality is, the collected bandannas would've sat in a bag somewhere reminding me of yet another project that hasn't gotten done.

As it is, apparently they sit in my head as a figment of my imagination and are a project never even started that the enemy just devised right now for me to get anxious and distraught over.

Because what mom in her right mind doesn't create amazing bandanna quilts for her children as a souvenir of umpteen capture-the-flag birthday parties?

Well, this one doesn't and hasn't.  And that doesn't make me better or worse mother.

And since that "imagination" was so far out in left field (as they are progressively getting to be...the enemy is really overplaying this hand...), I caught it pretty quickly and didn't go down the path of "geeze-what a rotten mom I am for not doing that..."  I demolished it with divine power and am making my thoughts obedient to Christ.

Now back to grading papers...

~peace

Monday, April 23, 2012

Earth: the grounded life

for the Essentials In Spiritual Formation Certificate Course with Dan Wilt

Embrace a grounded life.  A firm foundation beneath our feet will enable us to act lovingly, passionately and substantially in the world - and will lead us increasingly to be conformed to the person and likeness of Christ.
~Dan Wilt in elemental*life: The Formation of the Creative Soul

Lately, it seems I feel anything but grounded.

I desire to embrace and pursue a grounded life, yet today emotions blow this way and that as uncertainty and doubt creep in, and I am feeling untethered and tossed about by waves and wind.

Momentarily, I find my footing, reminded to demolish every imagination that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, but sometimes the imagination appear so stealthily that I have spent a good deal of time interacting with it before I recognize it for what it is.  By that time, the erosion is felt, that gradual rubbing away of destiny and identity and confidence and grace.

Questions surge and bellow and roar.  Accusations, condemnations, and angst fill my heart; squeezing the love, joy, and peace to one side.

It's not always this loud and boisterous.  Mostly they ride below the surface, a quiet murmur in the back of my mind, muffled by calm waters and clear skies.  I can almost forget they're there.

Almost.

But then something happens and the veneer wears thin and the background noise catapults to the forefront.

"Are you sure you're doing the right thing?"

"Maybe they'd be better off in school."

"You're not preparing them well."

"You call this academic excellence?"

"Are you sure this is important?  Well, are you?"

"What if they're not getting all they need?"

"What if you're failing them?"

"What if your not teaching them everything they need to know?"

Ad nauseam.  And these are just the ones that correspond to homeschooling.  I haven't even begun to list the others that flit or slide or saunter or inch through, each waiting to see if I'll take notice, if I'll bite.

I must admit I've bitten more than once recently.  Sunk my teeth deep into the delectable, decadent, donut of self recrimination.

Imaginations.  All of them.  And not the creative kind.

Casting them down, though, feels like so. much. work.  And I'm tired, tired of the battle, tired of the external voices that reinforce the internal parade, tired of not being more grounded.

Vicious cycle this.  Time to get grounded again.  Time to get back to the discipline of early rising and early manna and early drink.  I can't do without, even for a short time (and it's not been that long ago that the pattern of wake and sunrise and Word and journal was broken).  Sure I can survive on less, but this living on less is not really living at all when the first fruits of the day are eaten up by imaginations that are vapors of nothingness that suck life.

So I'm filling my kettle with water, readying my candle on the table, setting out Bible and journal and favorite pen.

Tomorrow is a fresh day.

from 2 Corinthians 10 in the Message:
The tools of our trade aren't for marketing or manipulation, but they are for demolishing that entire massively corrupt culture. We use our powerful God-tools for smashing warped philosophies, tearing down barriers erected against the truth of God, fitting every loose thought and emotion and impulse into the structure of life shaped by Christ. Our tools are ready at hand for clearing the ground of every obstruction and building lives of obedience into maturity.


and from the King James Version
4(For the weapons of our warfare are not carnal, but mighty through God to the pulling down of strong holds;)
 5Casting down imaginations, and every high thing that exalteth itself against the knowledge of God, and bringing into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ


Saturday, April 7, 2012

To minister before the Lord

My friends held a "night watch" last night, a time to play and sing and drum and dance and create and just be in the Presence of the Lord and minister to Him.

I wanted to go, wanted to go to the last one, but due to schedules and what is on my plate, I've missed both.

And this morning as I woke up early and contemplated driving over there for the last bit, I felt like I heard the Lord say to me,

"That's what you do every day for Me."

It's just that directing children to do chores, helping with school work, cooking meals, making phone calls, answering emails, straightening papers, washing towels, packing, refereeing, cleaning, sleeping doesn't feel much like ministering before the Lord.

But when He said it, I knew that it was true.

Granted, it's my attitude in the midst of those things that make them seem less holy and spiritual and often causes me to miss the opportunity to minister to Him.

Though I am learning, albeit a bit slowly, I am seeing the small things and the big things and choosing thanksgiving more and more often.

My heart still bends towards negativity more frequently than I'd like, but I am, with the gentle reminding of Holy Spirit, carving in the groove through repeated acts of thanksgiving.

And it is going deeper.

This morning I sit and look out eastern window and see the sky crisscrossed by airplane trails and a light brushing of airy clouds.  At first the trails and clouds are tinged pink with blue sky behind.  Then as the light position changes, they lighten, taking on a more creamy hue with the brightening of the day. 

I take note.  I allow the beauty of the vastness of this watercolor piece brushed before me, this once in a life-time experience, to soak into my soul.  Quite literally, the sky will never look like this again.

Kodak didn't capture it, but my heart did and in it thankfulness rose and all seemed to quiet within.

The clouds and airplane trails just are.  They're shaped by the wind currents, painted by the sun, and somehow this morning they represent to me what it is to minister before the Lord.

Sometimes it will be in a set-aside time in a set-apart place with instruments and voices and an environment less cluttered than mine.

But most days, it's here where I get to be shaped by the Wind and painted by the Son and enjoyed by the One who set me here with these gifts to be discovered each day, these treasures He's hidden just for me to find.

And my thankful response...that is what ministers to Him.

~peace

Monday, April 2, 2012

Upturned tables

You walk right in
Your face chagrined
You wonder how...

Your head bows

Then deep breath in
Amidst the din
Out comes the roar

My house is not a store

Measured steps
Face set
To table one
You flip and run
To table two
Upended view

'Til all are turned
All bridges burned
With fiery eyes
Your voice rises

This house is mine
Bought with my life
You have no right
I paid the price

Mine
This shrine
I must align
To my design

Secure
Pure
Aware
In prayer

The chaos errupts
My upturned life
Disturbed
Distraught
The mess

I catch your eye
You smile
I cringe
You come
I cower
You lift my head
Pick up a broom
I take it from your hand

Anxious
I look
I watch
I wait
For blows
So deserved

Instead you go for dustpan and mop
Having chased out trespassers
You say, how can I help?

Oh no
My mess
My mistakes
My bad
I let them set up shop
My job

Hand outstretched
You wait
Eyes gentle
Smile tender
You say again

This house is mine
Bought with my life
You have no right
I paid the price

Mine
This shrine
I must align
To my design

Secure
Pure
Aware
In prayer

I hand You the broom.

Sunday, April 1, 2012

My house was clean last week, er year...


It's a mess right now.  My house, that is.  A mess according to me.  Maybe a disaster according to you or maybe I'm doing pretty good.

At any rate, a purpose of this post is to put everyone's minds at ease:  I don't live in a magazine house.  You can see our school room picture below.  Yes, I do have organized shelves and a blue wall behind those shelves thanks to some down time during Christmas break and my friends Linda and Shelby who helped me paint. 

Thankful and hopeful.

Notice the empty laundry basket on the school table along w/ whatever art project and school work some child left behind.

Then you have the entryway w/ a couple of random laundry baskets and a chair that really belongs at the school table, but for some reason has sat here in the entry way for a couple of days (as have the baskets) because all of us have forgotten how to put something away as we walk past it.  Or we think it's the latest sculpture of the week.

Regardless, there they sit.  And yes, I'm going to go ahead and call them art: "ode to laundry."

And random car seat and dog clearly not disturbed by the things out of place along w/ some coats my friend gave us over a month ago.  They like it on the top of the antique trunk.

And here we have my office, which I took a picture of from the messiest angle.  There's no after picture...yet.  You can't really tell, but my desk is only clear where the keyboard and mouse are.

Why these pictures?

Well, because the other day I was on one of my favorite blogs that I find great inspiration from.  She always posts beautiful photos of whatever has caught her eye that day, including her family and her house.  She has 6 kids, like me.  She homeschools, like me.  Her house is clean, not like me.  At least in her photos.

I want to ask her to post a picture every now and then when there's mess on the table and paper on the floor and laundry still in the laundry basket.

I'm sure those days happen for her too...she writes about them.  The pictures of them just don't wind up on her blog which is fine...it just struck me I needed to post a picture of my mess without apology or any promise that I'm working to get it cleaned up.

I'm obviously not since I'm blogging almost daily, keeping up with facebook, emailing, fixing meals, taking kids here and there, doctoring dog, managing, teaching, walking, working out, folding the occasional basket of clean laundry, studying, napping, refereeing, celebrating birthdays, planning, playing music, thinking...anything I can find to do EXCEPT straighten the house.

But that's ok.  It's day will come.  At least I hope so.  It really does bother me to have so much visual clutter about.  My brain, like it or not, registers every thing that is out of place or without a place and logs it in a registry of "this needs to get done."

There may be a problem (hesitate to tackle messes due to constant interruptions, feeling overwhelmed, etc.) and perhaps there really is something that God is working in the midst of these messes that cannot get cleaned up quite yet because it would prematurely interrupt what He is doing.  I find a measure of comfort in that...at least it's not because I'm (gasp) lazy.

He is working.  I know it.  In spite of dusty surfaces and moldy caulking around bathtubs and unvacuumed floors and unchecked school work, He is working.  He is taking every mess and using it for my good, conforming me into His image.

This candle symphony sitting in the midst of misplaced items on coffee table is what we are using to countdown to Easter.  It's here that all the messes of the body and mind and heart collide. 

We take turns lighting a candle, moving the cross, ever nearing the center.  The light increases with each subsequent candle that we light, and so does the peace.  With each candle lit I am reminded to pause and take note of the little (or big) hand that lights it, of the many blessings I have all around me, of the greatest blessing of all which is that these messes of body, mind and heart are not too big for God.

Jesus bore them all.

And last I checked, He didn't ask me to take any of them back.

So this long and messy post is also about me handing my visible and not-so-visible messes back to Him. 

Here you go (again), Jesus.  My mess and my need to understand and my dreams/goals/wants/needs...I'm handing them back to you.  Thank You for coming as my Prince of Peace, for dethroning the tyrant of perfectionism in my life, for reestablishing Your peace and Your order according to Your plan for my life.

I choose to trust You in the process, no matter what it looks like.