Weather and Trust

There is nothing more circumstantial than the weather. and nothing more ephemeral.

I grew up with the phrase admonishing that if you did not like the Illinois weather, all you had to do was wait an hour.  But then there would be those summer days when no matter how long you waited, it never cooled off.

Weather changes when you do not want it to, and will not change when you do desire a change most fervently.

Maybe weather is one of the things about this life that encouraged us to seek the reliable and unshifting, to long for a sure foundation.

I am in a situation where the situational weather, the storms and trials of this life,  blow strong or simmer hot or chill long and hard.  Mild weather is only a predictor that somewhere, a storm is brewing. 

Sometimes I get caught in the storm and consumed by it.  I forget about a sure foundation and despair of survival.  Or at least I get distracted enough by the raging that I think I have lost my way home.

But then I see may way clear.  So many times, like the last time a few days ago, the clear way is not a path forward at all, but the realization that the storm is raging around me, not on me.  The realization that I am standing on my Father's porch.  I feel the wind, hear the clashing, and get the mist of it on my face.  But I am on my Father's porch.

I trust where I am, I just sometimes forget where I am.

Then I look and see that there is still room on the porch for more of my Father's children.

Plans

Work changed a couple of years ago, and plans became astoundingly more important and valuable.
So I changed and a plan and execute lifestyle at work.  It has produced results like I have never seen.  I find myself looking back at places planning might have made a difference, avoiding regret and trying to learn.  I find myself looking forward and beginning to apply better planning to the possible future.

The regret process is hard to avoid.  I need divine help to avoid it.  I can say I have been going with the flow.

Even riding on the waves that my Father makes, I have to plan to  be at the shore and on the water with my  board.  So there has always  been a planning element to my coasting.

So how does planning work better?  I am beginning to see that I do more of the important stuff, thereby serving my neighbor better.

So planning for the love of God and His creation is a good thing.  Oh, the other planning is planning to quell the fear of failure.

Gonna chew on that, too.

Hosanna

Saved.  Rescued.
I have to acknowledge it. It is the actual willful assent to the fact of having been rescued and redeemed that crosses over the threshold.

Thinking about Neil S. and family in Jacksonville.  Great resolve demonstrated daily.  A wonderful example for me.  Not sure I agree with every perspective, but delighted to watch him burn.

So that is the question tonight.  Am I burning with Christ-light.  Is my life in the Kingdom of God drawing anyone to watch me burn, and wonder at the wonder of it?

What is the point?  To light the way.

It is all about the oil.  I can only get it by intimacy.  You provide the spark.  You provide the lifting up.  You can not deny me access.  Thank you for that.  Burn me for your illumination.  Burn me to reveal your Kingdom.

Trust

Inadequate gratitude.  Yup.  Gotta be.

I find myself not trusting the goodness I see in my circumstances at the moment.  It is easy to manufacture a story that contradicts what I see.

My mind is too available to lies.  I am not busy enough recognizing grace and mercy, and expressing gratitude.  Ingrate!

I am not an ingrate.  I just do not have gratitude habits.  No.  I do not have adequate gratitude habits.

Enough analysis.

Daddy, thank you for loving me with the Blood of Jesus.  Thank you, Father for redeeming me from the mire.  Thank you finding me when I was not even looking for you.  Thank you for holding me while I struggle to prove you are faithless.  Thank  you for refusing to let me go back to my idols.

Thank you for flooding my life with things to be grateful for, so I can develop better and better habits of gratitude.

Thanks, Daddy.

Astounding

Nobody said it would be like this.  Maybe those who know are going on being astounded by even more astounding love, so they are too busy to say.  Actually, Steve Avant acted like this was his experience of grace, but I did not want to believe him.

Look.  I get a call that historically sent me.  Now, no send.  Just good questions to ask and good actions to take.  Then a soul at rest.  Then knowing...knowing what to do next and when, and all a soul at rest.  Then having acted, among other souls, still a soul at rest and still knowing what to do when, at rest.  Favor and grace at every turn.  Clarity of mind, absence of fear.

This is Kingdom living.  Thank you, Father.  Please keep me astounded.  Please continue to give me opportunities to receive love and give it away.

Love Manifested in Effectiveness

Wow.  Love manifested in effectiveness.  The very Kingdom of God invading the world of darkness, the world of less than excellent.  All less than excellence is a reflection of the presence of Death and the presence of Pride.  Love manifested as excellence, manifested as effectiveness is the Kingdom, now, pushing back the death and darkness.

So, Father, help me, help us all be good at our jobs.  You put us here right now in this place under this authority for many sub reasons, but above all for your glory.  Help us be effective at our work as an outworking of your love in our lives.  Work love in and through us, for the benefit of our company, our division, our facility, our coworkers.  Break down the blinders on our eyes, our habitual ways of thinking and seeing that are no longer effective.  Clear our ears of old filters that stop us from hearing what is being said today because of what we heard in earlier days.  Pour the oil of your spirit into the bruised and broken places in the very center of each of us, where we have built self defenses, scar tissue that keeps us from moving freely in thought, will and emotion.  Remind us of what joy is like.  Remind us of what it smells like.  Remind us of what it looks like, what it sounds like.  Remind us of when we touched joy.  I want the joy of the Lord to be my strength, our strength.

Thank you.  You are the great God, the high and holy one, who bends low to love us.  Thank you for the oil of joy, your holy spirit.

Demanding

This is the only demanding link on my favorites bar. And even here I can even come and look at my stats, as they are. Even facebook, with all of its potential for receiving output does not demand it like the blogger does.

But you know, the demand is only perceived, not real.

What if the demand was a celebration of opportunity? If I could see the end and rejoice in the outcome. If I could see the process and rejoice in the inflow of the Spirit that makes the writing possible.

Then I think about other bloggers, especially ones who have subscribers. Why are they writing? How much do they feel a demand that they think they can not satisfy? Who are they writing for?

All of this speaks into what I am doing here. The one thing I know is that all of this is prayer. It even usually transforms into a form of prayer by the end of the post. That is what puts a lie to the demand. I am coming here to meet with my Father. To sit and listen, and to speak sometimes. There is no demand in our sitting. He does not need anything from me. Everything I really need is completely satisfied in my entering, sitting, listening and speaking.

So the demand is a lie of my little broken soul. I will fail to succeed, it says. Pants on fire.

Father, so many lies and so many lie believers. So much truth and so many truth believers. Help us shine for you today. Help us reflect your truth.

Another Friday Night

There is something about the transition into the weekend. Last week it was running up to get the boy. This week sitting over supper with the men of two Baptist congregations. I prefer a transitional event to just going to the house.

Work is such a big thing right now. Every week seems so full, yet there is room to stop and move into a couple of days of rest. Well, at least relative rest. I just spent the last hour on the phone and computer. But they are put away now.

And the weekend is underway. No big plans. Really the best part of these weekends without the lad are the routines of maintaining the livability of the house. Trash run, vacuuming, laundry. There is a rhythm there that is satisfying and much better than sitting. Sitting does have it's place. So does at least a bit of yard work, especially since cooler weather is here. Another transition.

There has been such grace for the trials and challenges of the work week, Father. There has also been genuine emotion, as well, with properly placed expression. At least I think so. Father, I am so certain there is room there, in expression, in safe expression, for further restoration of my soul. There is still so much that gets in the way of full freedom to pour out the love you keep me full of. When I will let you. Thank you. You are the definition of faithful.

Daddy. I love that sound. I love to say Daddy. And know I am heard. I still don't know why I keep forgetting.

Daddy. Help. Help me live in the way that brings you the Glory. Help me live in excellence. Remove the habits of anxiety from my soul. You restore my soul. There is junk in me in the way of excellence. I want to be shiny for you.

Walked Out of the Wilderness

Slowly and progressively, through and out of the desert is the best. On the edge of a new place, or a place being reclaimed for the Kingdom, it is scary. That is where faith is challenged, and The Faithful One proves Himself faithful, again. And again.

It is the only place worth living in. It is the place of the Taste. Taste and see that the Lord is Good. It is the place of knowing by tasting.

Moment by moment, steps lead to forks in the road. Decision points. One direction is a broad path, the other narrow, steep, stoney. Little or no God is required for the broad way. The other way is impassable without him.

So He walks you slowly and progressively up and through the narrow way. Some, much of the route is easy enough that your pride thinks you are doing the travelling.

The rest of the path is where you come to know. Not imagine. Know. You taste and see that the Lord is good, because there are no options. Well...there is one. The broad way is always right there, just a step away, full of comfort and comfortable people. Here in the narrows, though, there is a different comfort.

Sunday nights we would be coming back from a weekend in Wisconsin with grandparents. It would be late when we got home, and I would be asleep in the back of the station wagon. I would wake up when the winter air hit my face. I would fell the rhythm of being carried into the house. And I would look up and see my Dad's facing looking down as he carried me. It stuck so strong, because it was so right. It was one of the things that defined a dad. That is the comfort of the narrows, the wilderness.

Father, thank you for your fathering. And thank you for the stony way, where your nature shines in the darkness.

Gifts and Talents

There are things you are good at, things you are really good at, and then there are things that very clearly you are better at than you can be. When you are doing those things, you come alive with more than the enjoyment of doing something well. You come alive with the power of God coursing through you and doing well for his glory.

And all of this can happen without you having any regard for God.

The gifts and calling of God are irrevocable, and also are not dependent upon having received the good news of the Messiah.

There is a fair chance that the talent you have been given by your heavenly father will not be used for his glory if you have no regard for him. But the talent is still from him, inspires awe and reflects glory upon him.

Father, nothing you do is wasted. Perhaps what we do with what you do comes to ruin. But you will receive all of the glory. That has no variance. Now, what happens when we find the talent you have given, and we turn it all for the purpose you intended? Does it reflect your glory more? I hope so, but I am not sure. Or can we ever know the fullness of what you intended?

Maybe it is time to rest in the knowledge that, with the good heart you have put in me, that I will purpose and fail, and purpose and succeed, and purpose again, to do my best to love you with what I have and am. You have given me a good heart, and I will love you with it. It is you to have mercy on me. It is you to pass over my foolishness when you see me covered with the blood of Jesus.

O God, thank you for the Blood.

In a Box

It does not really matter how big the box is.

Keeping a box to hide in is the thing.

Describe the box to explain it away, to rational-lies the holding of it. "Well, it is only a ________ box, so it is not the kind you mean."

If the box separates the joints of the church, then God is opposed to it. Not me, just my box.

My box is made of pride. Other things to make it look different, "customized." But pride that says that I can construct a hiding place for my self that will be sufficient.

Then how come, pride, I feel, know, that my box is inadequate?

Because that is the work of the Spirit. Sure, I feel fear, but more, I feel naked.

This is primal stuff. I am not alone. Sure, this is my personal walk. It is just that everyone has one, too.

I guess everyone does not choose a box. What do they choose...when not choosing to trust Dad? As someone with a box habit, I will bet the alternatives look foolish to me.

Father, forgive my pride and habit of pride. I am not able to protect myself, and as long as I try, I can not give love. I want help getting out of the box. I want help abandoning the box and the box habit. I want to walk away from pride and the sin of self sufficiency. Most, I want not to go away from sin, but to walk habitually toward you and with you, leaning on you.

Please restore my fascination with you and my revulsion with pride.

Father, be glorified in your church.

Father. What a thing to say. Perfect Father. Abundant rest has always been available in Your embrace. I accept. I freely receive what You have freely given.

Thank You that you are showing me by your Spirit how to identify and avoid the meaningless trappings. That you illuminate the path home, the path that leads directly into your embrace.

I need you, Daddy. I need you to rock me, and tell me the truth. I have been believing lies about you and me, both. Forgive me.

And thank you for Hartsville Community Fellowship. Restore each one's awe tonight.

Quiet

Sunday morning. Boy sleeping nearby. He was awake to turn over a few minutes ago, but quite undecided about his plans for arising.

It is even harder for me to remember how I did fourteen, since I got a late start with this, my one child. So I err on the side of liberty. We really do not have anything we have to do today other than carry him back to his mom. If he sleeps, we miss minutes available for historic dad/dude conversations that are earth shaking and earth shaping. But they are not all like that anyway.

I guess the issue this morning is boy poverty. Since my access time with him is limited...
Well, dog. My access time with him is not limited by familial circumstances alone. I am really still fussing about perfect parenting.

Ok, Father. One more time. I trust you with my son. Here he is. My best has been good, but what you want to do with, in and through him is beyond me. I dare say it is beyond my comprehension. And I am convinced that I am well able to get in your way.
Father, I really want you to be glorified, and that my life would not hinder that in any way or amount. I stand in awe of your mercy. I want to be still, quiet enough to be able to watch what you do with my boy. In the meantime, I need your help to know when I am willfully in the way.

I guess if I would just get back to my place on your lap and rest, I would be properly positioned for this to work out best.

Listening

It is turning into a season of listening. There is grace for it. Starting tomorrow I have to stop heading off to the next destination, realizing that when I am listening, I am on station until the listening is over. I am not going to judge the speaker, the content or the listener, the venue or the crowd. Just the waves of grace. Is this too selfish...to be about the listening, but to be about the grace to listen?

Father, I see a bit of what is up. I really want to listen, but more I want your supernatural ability to love with my ears. I want the ease of coming to rest in the assignment, free from the need to contribute, judge or coach. Free to feel you very near as you help me listen.

Why?

Coming here is the best thing there is. How to introduce others goes back to love. So I will rest here, soaking in love. When I leave, every experience of me will be enhanced by the love that saturates me. So I rest here in love, in the arms of love, in the river of love, hearing the voice of love, soaking and saturating with love. Clinging to love for dear life. Being rewired by love. Having my soul restored by love...and coming away as a carrier, a vector of the infatuation infection.

I sit at rest here in love. The oil of joy facilitates going over under and around obstacles, taking love in where it is needed. To cause someone to say, "What is that?"

Father, teach me to love by making loving my newly reset default response. For every stimulus, the response is love. Automatic and not needing contemplation. To love where love is needed. To love the fatherless. Hold me. I need you so I can bring you the glory.

What I am afraid of

Sometimes it takes me time to figure out what is going on. I have to look at what I am being tempted with to figure out what I am holding back from my Father. It is so easy to stay in the habits of pride. All I need is to turn to my Father with what concerns me, and he will perfect it. I can not do what will matter in the issues that I am assaulted with. I get a chance to be reminded of how small I am, and how great my Father is.

There really is a special spiritual thing about fathers and sons. And the key stories involve fathers trusting God with their sons. Father, I am tempted to worry about my son. So all the more, I surrender my Isaac to you. I trust your plan because I want to trust my plan. I need to trust you more than I need to trust my plan. All of my plans without you seemed so well reasoned until they broke under my weight and cut me. Who can compare leaning on the arm of God with leaning on the marsh reeds of Egypt. Have mercy on my son and his mother. Grant us the grace needed to bring to you the Glory that is yours. Restore my soul. I need you, Daddy.

Good Grace

Some days are easier than others. Difference now is that the days are not easier because the circumstances are easier, but rather because I remember to stay in the embrace of grace, and let myself be carried through upon the everlasting arms of love. It is getting easier to love, as the habits of expecting to love, regardless of the response, are daily formed and reinforced. I expect days when, on my own, it would be much harder to love. But the supply of love is so infinitely large.

I am reminded of how much I could have used this in the past. But a big part of expecting to love now exists in me because I did not have it then. God, it was such a barren existence. The dryness of it made me thirsty for real living water.

The pleasure of the writing, now, is that the memory of my dry hard ground still hurts. And so it tells me that my soul is still in need of healing. Help me, Papa to forgive and heal. Help me to release the hurts. Make me more and more like Christ.

Anchored

The sea anchor holds, not in place, but on course. The sea anchor makes the vessel appear, to the sea, like a much larger vessel. The laws make the sea act toward me not as I am in the flesh, but "larger than life." The laws at work in the sea see a bigness I can never reach on my own.

When I have ventured out and can not get back, I can set my anchor and let go of the wheel. My trust in God will keep me turned and properly oriented toward the storm.

I did not invent the sea anchor or the idea by which it works. These things are much older than me. What I have is what we all have. That is the fresh opportunity to go out, and the fresh opportunity to trust the designer and maker. It is good, too, to be far from being the first who has trusted.

Thank you, Father for someone to trust. Thank you that you hold, that you are trustworthy. I need you so much.

State of the Union

The Union is Wonderful. The Union is Strong. The Union is unshakeable. The Union is full of Peace. The Union can weather any storm. The Union is the very reason for any real Hope.

The Union of the Bridegroom and His Bride is a done deal. The Price has been paid. The Union of Christ and His Church is in place.

I talked with the Bride today. She is at rest in the arms of Her Beloved. She is not worried or concerned. She is not distracted from her Holy Husband, by anything happening around Her. The Bride of Christ is very grateful.

I talked with the Bridegroom today. He can not keep his eyes off of Her. He is delighted with His Bride. He loves to here her voice in the morning when she speaks his Name and pauses to listen for His reply. He is delighted with the way she is willing to sit in His peace and quiet to hear him, and at the same time wants so much to be up in the middle of the music dancing for Him.

The Union is Good. When I see the Bride resting Her head on the breast of her Beloved, with no other need and no desire to go anywhere, the Union is good. When I see that and know that the Lamb has received the reward of His sufferings, the Union is Good. Very Good.

Father, thank You for The Union.