What are we full of?

What am I full of today?  What will ooze out on those who I touch?  Wow.  Will I touch anyone today?  How about that.  I can be full of God and be of no particular Kingdom purpose.  Going to visit my sibs this week, so there is a chance there.

Am I still afraid the world will contaminate me?  Is that why I do not live like the King is at home?  Or am I afraid he is really not there?  Or do I really believe in a little god who is not able to save me, much less help them?  Either way, I am not repping the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob when I live this way...and I know better.

So habits and ruts are still in play.  Some days both feet are deep.  Some days maybe I have on foot in and one foot out.  Which can be dreadfully uncomfortable when the two paths diverge.  Which they do.  God has no reason to walk beside my rut.  My rut only leads down.

Father, you say that you restore my soul.  I receive and accept your word today.  Gather us under your wing, like chicks today. Remind us of what home is like.

Help me understand how to stay home and be in the marketplace.  Oh.  You will go to the marketplace with me, and I will be whole in your presence.  Okay.

Mean Pinball

Listening to Pandora.

I am here to write. Joanne said to just write is a success secret.
In this context, to just pray is the success secret.

I do not need to say anything. I need to listen to the Spirit and say what I hear.

We need to be provoked by the Spirit to rest ever more completely upon the trustworthy King.
I know this is true for several reasons, but the important reason at the moment is that it is entirely counter-rational and entirely intuitive. Now that is not the same as finding something irrational to do and calling it a mission from God. But if it is a mission from God, it will not make sense to the rational mind.

The opposing force is the being-restored soul. Habits of thought, feeling and action make for easy decisions that require no stillness and listening and obeying and trusting. Just rut walking.

The deeper the work of restoration, the greater the need of Christlikeness in the moment, the greater the shaking. It can feel...like anything, as long as how it feels can oppose the truth.

This is a dangerous God, fundamentally opposed to my plans and habits.

Father have mercy on us. We are not able to walk in your way without mercy that we will never be able to deserve. Yet once we have put our hand to your plow, we must walk in your way. No Spots, No Wrinkles. My cry tonight. Not wealthy, Not witty, Not even wise. One Bride. One Spotless Bride.

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.

Off to a good start

I started a new adventure this morning. I have asked a guide to lead me over an otherwise impassable pass.

You see, it is not impossible. I just need help. Not only do I need help, but I also need to get to the other side. And I also need to be changed in the process. I need the change more than I need the other side.

The Word says that He restores my soul. That is what is going on. There is a glorious, and God-glorifying way that my mind, will and emotions were meant to be, but are not. The closer they are to design, the more my King gets that glory that is his. I want that real bad. I ache to honor the one who rescued me. What wouldn't you do for your hero?

I will acknowledge and celebrate that other good things will result from the restoration of my soul, but the only thing that can matter first being shiny to shine on the one who ransomed me.

Father, for your glory, help me to attend faithfully to the effort of the guide you have placed in my path. I know that she is earnest and able.

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.

Gratitude Grows with Gratitude

Gratitude grows with gratitude.

It is good to remember a gift. It is better to remember and express thanksgiving. The gates of grace open wide.

How the nations do rage. There was never just one moment of refusing to say thank you. Longstanding patterns of habit. Cultural disinclination toward gratitude expressed to God. Habits of thanking the wrong god. Habits of thanking, congratulating self. Habits of uttering acknowledgement of a god as the source, without any personal knowledge of the truth, making the utterance a rut. So habits grow with habitual steps, digging the rut ever deeper.

After a while, even thinking about gratitude, therefore thinking about gifts to be grateful for,brings the life of God. Or brings me to the spout where the Glory comes out. Walking in pursuit of living water and gratitude for it brings life. Seeing where life is touching darkness brings vision for restoration.

My God, you are good!

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.

This Fountain Never Runs Dry

I can take the tiniest dry ache and put it in the fountain. I thought at first that putting my soul near Jesus was reserved for special events and mountainous issues. Nope. Anything. Right now. For as long as it takes. Any other perspective says that He is not there for you and / or you do not believe He is faithful.

There are no limits to the fountain, and no stain for which it was not made. Try. See if you can shock Him with that dark place in your heart. See if you can get Him to reject your concern as too petty for His attention.

Father, thank You for Your Faithfulness and Mercy, poured out for us all.

Knowing

Certainty. Knowing. Now I understand why people do not get it when we say we are in love with Jesus.

They have been in love. They have been lost in that brainless euphoria and still did not have certainty. Knowing was absent. Especially if they had been in love before. They know it is a drug that wears off. Great drug, though. Great drug. But just a drug.

I am not in love with Jesus. It is a poor, inaccurate way of expressing this Christian faith. Better, much better to say, that I am home in Christ. Every answer is in Him. Everything missing is found in this Life. Everything broken is restored in Christ. Everything that needs to be known to make me fully alive and free is right here and will never change. I know.

Father, You have done it. And we thank you. What a place to rest and heal.

Boy Full of Faith

My boy is uncomfortable in his momentary circumstances. At the same time, he knows he is going to be fine. He is okay. He has and is exercising faith. He will come out well on the other side of it.

Social discomfort is familiar to me. At the same time I realize how very much the Holy Spirit has balmed my wee soul. I know that there is a balm for the heart of the believer, and that there is more there than comfort. The healing is remarkable. Both worth talking about and worth giving thanks for.

There are still situations where I am lacking in grace. But...there is no lack of grace, and I am learning to access it.

How glorious is the mercy of our Father. To ponder my life of acts, and know that He will not turn from me. I look like His Son, sound like Him, smell like Him, when He puts His hands on me and pulls me close. The skin of a sacrifice has been placed on my neck and arms, so I feel like His Son. The clothing of His Son has been placed upon me, so that I smell right, just like the Son of His favor.

Father made it work out this way. He knows my frame, but he is distracted from His wrath by the Holy Perfection of His Son, in Whom He has hidden me.

Thank You, Father, for making a way for us to draw near and receive Your blessing.

Too Noisy

Yes, Sir. Acknowledged.

Shhhh. Rest. Be restored in stillness and quiet. Shhhh.

Everything needed is within reach or by simple request.

You belong at this table, where there is no hurry. Eat. Drink. Receive.

You did not earn it, so you can not strive for it. It is simply yours.

You are not able to qualify, but you have been qualified. Accept this best of gifts.

Nothing to do.

Thank you.

Answered Prayer

Trust and shut up. Don't ask for outcomes. Ask for more fruit, patience first if it was not for love.

It is time to find out if desiring intimacy and spiritual fruit outworked as a result are enough. I go into my next work week, for example, with many physical manifestations to ask for. The instruction right now (forever, I am thinking) is to forsake all of that in pursuit of fruit. And only fruit that comes from maintaining connection with the source of life.

Father, forgive us for losing our hunger for fruit. Restore as a reflection of the renewal of our first love, a burning desire for love, joy, peace, patience, goodness, kindness, gentleness, longsuffering and selfcontrol. We can not feed your fruit to the world that we do not have. and the people are starving for living spiritual life.

Weary

There is a tiredness the comes from doing well. You get to the end of the task or season, pause, and realize that you have been investing at an extraordinary rate. You feel the cost, and at the same time you feel the triumph of having been on purpose, on task.

There is a tiredness that comes from doing. You get to the end of the task or season, pause, and realize that you have been investing out of fear and pride. You become aware that your muscles are aquiver with fatigue because you always had to keep them tensed in anticipation of an attack you knew you were too weak or slow to ward off. You examine your breathing and know that you have been taking little sips in fear that the next time you try, there won't be any air. Your eyes are dry because you have not dared close them in fear of what you are sure is coming.

Pride has told you that you can take care of your self. Or that your self can take care of you. You tried it, utterly failed, and met the fear that would own you. The flavor of everyones fear is different, but the fundamentals are the same. You are the subject of that fear until you get rescued. And you have already learned that you are not able to rescue your self.

Time to open your hands. Time to unclench your toes. Time to close your eyes and leave them closed. Time to unhitch your diaphragm, and let your breath flow in and out of you.

Time to be willing to be rescued. Time to ask for supernatural help. Time to live listening with all the spirit you have alive in you, and refusing to act on your own foolish counsel. Time to ask to be covered with Love and granted the restoring rest and restoration that is yours.

Thank you for your faithful promises, Father.

How Deep Does Satisfaction Go?

How many layers of itch are there? How many places does a soul have which crave satisfaction?

In my soul each one is connected to an unreleased hurt, an unforgiven slight stored away to fester and need attention. What does a satisfied soul look like? Can you imagine a person who does not need anything fixed? Can I imagine that for my self?

Why bother? Because there is a resting place for every one of those itchy places. It is like a challenge when Father dares me to trust Him with every tiniest little booboo. I am willing to let Him heal my soul in big splashy ways. Giving Him all of me to cleanse and restore requires surrendering every moment as it arises. I can not recognize all of the places all at one time. It is my walk, bumping into my world and its people that exposes each opportunity. So all day long I choose God or me, God or me, God or me, God or me. Who am I going to trust with this issue?

I am so grateful for the gift of Your Holy Spirit, Father. Thank you, Holy Spirit, for staying near to point out the places where I am listening to pride, who tells me "that one is too small for God. You can handle it yourself."

Hurts

Aching is part of the Wilderness experience. It is possible to be totally at rest leaning completely on Christ, and ache at the same time. But then I know that the ache is not from any lack I have. It is from seeing some else's hurting.

The rod of Aaron was a long-dead piece of almond wood. There were two things that transformed it into the permanent symbol of God's choice of the Levites and Aaron as their leader. First was the truth that God made a way for the Levites to draw near him and intercede. The second is that, just like the Levites themselves, the rod was very near to God, and transformed by His presence. The result was a rod in the ark to remind Israel of these things. Yet even with this, even chosen Israel chose to avoid drawing near. Chosen Israel chose to avoid the intimacy that will not tolerate sin. It is the same opportunity as always: Choose to be close to God, burned clean and transformed for His Glory, or choose familiarity, distance, and self shaping, self regard.

Come into the light. Chase away the darkness. Be transformed into a new thing, a living thing made alive from a dead thing. A thing transformed for a holy and glorious purpose, far bigger than you can imagine or manage. God, help us to be dissatisfied with religion and a dead life.

Fall Back

It is so easy to switch to "human doing" from "human being." It is the default response. I am refusing today.

See, I should be able to fix my world, right? Wrong. What I can effect is the small stuff. The significant stuff I can not touch. That is really frustrating if my default is doing in response to recognizing a need.

I stepped out of my world this morning and went to a new place, and met some new people. And recognized an ache too big for me to touch. And now I ache for them. Which is what I was made for.

Now I get to crawl back up on my Fathers lap and tell him about what I saw, heard and felt. I am so grateful for my Fathers lap. Otherwise I would just ache, and have no place to go, no one to tell about them.

Their situation is no different than anyone else's. They need to find their way home to Dad, and to the rest that being home provides.

It hurts so bad to know that there is not enough of me, that I am not able to humanly demonstrate to them that there is rest. Pride is screaming because there is a need that I was built to recognize and not be able to do anything about. If I could effect it, it would not be worth effecting. This is the place to get to in learning to pray. Where the only thing I can do is admit my powerlessness and trust my Higher Power. To say, "Daddy, they hurt so much for lacking Your Rest. They scrabble and howl and reach in the rut. Please have mercy on them. Continue to show them your loving kindness. Continue to send your light into their darkness."

It is going to be so cool to see the whole picture. Thanks for making me part of it.

This is definitely the place.

This is the place. This Wild Place where there is always hope.

Every day, walking through the world, the things that are evidence of the effects of the presence of Love stand out. He restores my soul. It is not finished, but I can tell that it is happening.

Buttons that were hardwired are disconnected. Buttons that caused major responses now produce small results. I am so loved.

There is hope. Hope for me. That means there is hope for everyone. I am not getting this right all of the time and every time. But I am getting this right more often, and I can see moments when I needed to control life being replaced by vulnerable flows of Love. He flows in and through my life, my relationships, not just me.

Father, thank you for your faithfulness. You are true to your word.

Lunchtime Post 20101013

Tortellini, Red Wine Vinegar and Black Pepper

Fear was my default setting. It is what you could expect. Well, not really. The default position you would see was controlling behavior.

I realized last week that I have been back in church, in a real pursuit of some aspect of Christianity, for twenty years. Now please understand that most of that was not spent well. (That is a whole 'nother topic.) But I was expecting the process to reset my default. Even now, after "20 years in the Way" I see the same default setting in my soul.

He restores my soul. That is my default expectation, my hope, and a place on which I rest.

I will rejoice in The Lord at all times. His praise shall continually be in my mouth.

Praise and Worship can not come from my mouth at the same time as controlling words.

So should I control the controlling words, or just keep my mouth full of my response to my Father's loving kindness and tender mercy?

Water of Life

In "civilized" places there are so many sources of water and other forms of moisture.

In opposition, the Wilderness is, by definition, a place with only one Source of all. So it is a training ground out here.

If you go look at Frank Herbert's Dune, you will see some echoes of the walk in the Wilderness, but my recollection is that survival and thriving depended on science and community. Community and it's rules to teach you how the science of your stillsuit would keep you alive in the wastes.

Here in YHWHs Wild Place, even community and science fail. One Thing works. Just One Thing.

Staying very near. Apart from the Spirit, there is only desolation. Very near, the desolation all around becomes a proper setting.

I think I am okay...so I wander away to look at something. I have forgotten that there is nothing else worth looking at. I awaken to the fact that I am parched, seared by the dry place I have gone to. So I turn back. The distance back is nothing, because He is running to me. It is what He does, Who he is. There is no question of His welcome for me.

When I am back in my Father's arms, I am refreshed and healed. In my Daddy's lap there is no lack of any good thing. There is water for my dryness, to restore my ability to weep with joy.