silence

Ask any woman in society today how she’s doing, and most often she’ll respond, “Busy!” Forget “joyful,” “productive,” “blessed,” and so on. Career women, stay-at-home moms, college students, and senior adults are pulled in so many different directions that their first response is, “Busy.”

I myself find the word rolling off my tongue as I juggle a full-time job, marriage, and new mommyhood. And of course we spin the plate of “faith” along with all those titles. In all the chaos and busyness, there’s a lot of noise: the phone rings, the television blares, the computer hums, text messages beep, traffic buzzes, the washing machine whirls, children sing (and sometimes whine), friends chatter, sirens scream.

Where’s the quiet?

Unfortunately in our society today, it’s probably the most rapidly declining commodity. It’s the rare gem amid the rubble of living, yet for some it’s the awkward silence that frightens us…still all the more beckons us. We’re raising a generation that stumbles around silence, not knowing anything else to do but to snuff it out. So we turn up the radio in our car, and we let the television drone on in the background, and we crank up iTunes in our office, and we mindlessly ramble meaninglessness so as to not deal with silence.

And in the plate spinning and circus juggling and mind numbing and noise blaring, we lose sight of the eternal value of quiet. To be still. To listen. To be wrapped up in silence.

Through the whisper of a summer breeze in the trees, the sunlight cast across toy-strewn floors, or the still moment of silence that hangs heavy in the air and in our hearts, there we find our God. Please don’t misunderstand me; I’m not saying we can’t find God in the busy, chaotic, noise of life. But too often He gets forced into the mold of our routine, and we crowd Him into our conveniences, rather than letting Him invade our agenda.

Furthermore, I believe meeting God in the silence is biblical. Remember Elijah’s great victory on Mount Carmel against the prophets of Baal (see 1 Kings 18). A huge display of the magnificent power of God as fire fell from heaven amidst the groanings of the people uttering empty pleas to a make-believe god. I’m sure it was quite a noisy sight.

But a few verses later we find Elijah on the run from Jezebel, crumpled in a cave in fear.

“And behold, the LORD passed by, and a great and strong wind tore the mountains and broke in pieces the rocks before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind. And after the wind an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake. And after the earthquake a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire the sound of a low whisper. And when Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his cloak and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave. And behold, there came a voice to him and said, ‘What are you doing here, Elijah?’” (1 Kings 19:11-13)

In the obvious, thunderous places, Elijah didn’t find God. Not in the wind or the earthquake or the fire. Ironically, it was the low whisper that caught Elijah’s attention, and there he heard the voice of God.

The prophet Isaiah also understood this truth:

“And the effect of righteousness will be peace, and the result of righteousness, quietness and trust forever.” (32:17)

Let’s dig further into this passage. Look back at verse 9:

“Rise up, you women who are at ease, hear my voice; you complacent daughters, give ear to my speech. In little more than a year you will shudder, you complacent women; for the grape harvest fails, the fruit harvest will not come. Tremble, you women who are at ease, shudder, you complacent ones; strip, and make yourselves bare, and tie sackcloth around your waist. . . . For the palace is forsaken, the populous city deserted; the hill and the watchtower will become dens forever, a joy of wild donkeys, a pasture of flocks; until the Spirit is poured upon us from on high, and the wilderness becomes a fruitful field, and the fruitful field is deemed a forest. Then justice will dwell in the wilderness, and righteousness abide in the fruitful field. And the effect of righteousness will be peace, and the result of righteousness, quietness and trust forever. My people will abide in a peaceful habitation, in secure dwellings, and in quiet resting places.” (vv. 9-11, 14-18)

The context of the quiet and rest found in verse 17 is the result of complacent women being stirred to action. I have a feeling that these women weren’t just sitting at home all day watching soap operas. Much like women today, they were probably incredibly busy, spinning lots of plates. But they were deemed complacent about the things of the Lord. Frantic and frazzled about things that didn’t matter, yet lazy for eternal treasures. Wasn’t this true of Mary and Martha? Martha hurried about the kitchen, while Mary sought quiet rest at the feet of Jesus.

Just because we’re busy doesn’t mean we aren’t complacent. Too often we cloak our spiritual apathy with the designer dress of activity. We’re involved. We’re committed. But we’re pulled way too thin, and we can’t remember the last time we enjoyed silence in the presence of the Lord.

This is hard for us because God’s economy is so contrary to the ways of this world. Advancement in righteousness comes peacefully through time spent alone with God. It’s not a frantic, hurried pace that impresses God. Richard Swenson wrote, “We’re all running, but God’s not running after us. He knows that speed does not yield devotion. The presence of God is in inverse proportion to the pace of our lives—meditation, wisdom, and worship are slow, mellow, and deep.”[1]

Notice the reason for the change from complacency to quiet resting places in Isaiah 32: “Until the Spirit is poured upon us…” The shift from our frantic pace to the rest our souls long for is found through the lavish gift of the Holy Spirit. And this gift births within us peace and quietness and trust.

“It first produces quiet; yet how different is this quiet from the slumber and confidence of the inhabitants of Jerusalem who were lulled into a false security! This is a quiet of blessedness, flowing from righteousness, a supreme reposing in the wondrous grace of God. Together with this quiet there is a certainty, so different from the confidence or certainty of the careless women of Zion, for this certainty is founded upon the sure promises of God; it is the work of His own Spirit. And this condition will endure forever.”[2]

Now I know many of you are wondering how in the world you could ever manage to find quiet in your hectic days. Laundry piles up, children demand your attention, dinner won’t cook itself, and you’re in a covenant relationship with a man you haven’t spoken to for longer than two-minute snippets.

Call me naïve or maybe even idealistic. But I believe we can carve silence into our day. It is said that Susannah Wesley, the mother of John and Charles Wesley, spent one hour each day in prayer. She gave birth to 19 children, and ten of them lived past the age of two. If she couldn’t find a quiet spot in her home to pray, she would pull her apron over her head as a sign that the children should not disturb her.

If we can teach our children to eat solid foods and tie their shoes and even surf the web on our smart phones, then we can certainly teach them to observe periods of silence each day. Whether it’s putting your infant or toddler in their crib or playpen with some toys or teaching your children to play alone in their rooms, I believe we’re capable of instilling this type of discipline in our children. We expect other things from them, many of which won’t matter in eternity. So why not teach them now the priceless beauty of silence?

Or maybe it’s during their nap, or maybe you teach them about a special spot where you spend time in quiet reflection. Regardless, not only will your soul be refreshed, but the imprint will be burned on the hearts of your children as they see you setting aside time for silence. Turn off the noise, and attune your heart to hear the voice of God.

"We need to find God, and He cannot be found in noise and restlessness. God is the friend of silence. See how nature--trees, flowers, grass--grows in silence; see the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence. . . . We need silence to be able to touch souls."

– Mother Teresa

[1] Richard Swenson, “Living Inside the Margin,” The Torch, Spring-Summer 2011, p. 5.

[2] Edward Young, The Book of Isaiah – Volume 2: Chapters 19 to 39, accessed via WORDsearch.

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a beautiful mess

The longer Ryan and I are involved in ministry and doing life with other people, the more we are reminded that people are messy. Life is messy.

My life is messy.

Grace covers our self-inflicted messes. And love covers a multitude of sins (1 Peter 4:8).

How grateful I am for a loving Father who makes beautiful things out of my mess. And even more, He allows me to walk alongside others as He crafts masterpieces out of their messes too. Galatians chapter 6 paints a beautiful picture of our responsibility to one another as members of the body of Christ.

“Brothers, if anyone is caught in any transgression, you who are spiritual should restore him in a spirit of gentleness. Keep watch on yourself, lest you too be tempted. Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. For if anyone thinks he is something, when he is nothing, he deceives himself. . . So then, as we have opportunity, let us do good to everyone, and especially to those who are of the household of faith.”
– Galatians 6:1-3, 10

We’re called to restore. We’re called to shoulder the burden. We’re called to do good. God will handle the consequences, repair the heart, forgive the sinner, and restore the soul. But we have a part to play in this mess.

It’s a sad indictment of the church that many who find themselves in a mess fear the church is the last place they can turn. We’ve met too many messes with condemnation, ridicule, gossip, and hate, instead of gentleness and good as seen in the passage above.

A friend recently reminded me of these wise words:

“Where no oxen are, the manger is clean, but much revenue comes by the strength of the ox.”
– Proverbs 14:4

Where there is life and fruit and growth, there will be messes. Clean, neat, tidy lives come from hollow souls who aren’t really living. I’m not saying that Christians should be flinging messes right and left. But our maturity in Christ comes with its fair share of messes and growing pains and stumbles and failures.

There was a mess in Abraham’s adulterous rendezvous with Hagar. There was a mess in David’s rooftop proposal to Bathsheba. There was a mess in the belly of a great fish. There was a mess by a charcoal fire as a rooster crowed thrice. But in each story, there was greater grace and redemption beyond the mess. And there have been messes along my journey…and probably a few more in my future.

But it’s one of the beautiful things about community. My favorite part of Galatians 6 is the word “opportunity” in verse 10. In the Greek, this is the word “kairos,” and its meaning will blow you away. The word implies not the convenience of the season, but the necessity of the task at hand, whether the time provides a good, convenient opportunity or not.

Read those words again. Slowly.

The word implies not the convenience of the season, but the necessity of the task at hand, whether the time provides a good, convenient opportunity or not.

The truth of the matter is that other people’s messes are usually not convenient for us. They interrupt our schedules, get in the way of our plans, and disrupt our routines. They require more of us than we’re often willing to give.

But Paul instructed us “as we have opportunity,” knowing it wouldn’t be convenient. Or easy. Or fun. But it’s necessary. And’s it’s costly. It’s the embodiment of love and grace. It’s a picture of God in flesh.

So slow down. Make eye contact. Listen. Become involved in someone else’s mess. And find yourself caught up in a beautiful, thrilling display of the creative, redemptive abilities of our God.

hope

I really wanted to pen a new blog entry before February 16th rolled over to February 17th. But as I sit here on my bed and my fingers dance across the keyboard, my heart is heavy, my mind swollen with sadness...mingled with hope. A short time ago I received word that a dear pastor passed away this evening.


Stunned silence. Grief. Broken heart for his precious wife, children, and grandchildren. Thoughts flooding my mind for the saints whom he shepherded for so many years.


This wasn't my blog topic for tonight, but I can't seem to shake it all from my mind. God interrupted me.


Life is a vapor. My God is eternal. Life is uncertain. My God is a sure foundation.


What is it about interruptions such as these that stop us so abruptly and completely? Those clothes can wait to be hung. Those dishes can be washed in the morning. That new book can be enjoyed another day. For now I am slowed to a place of quiet reflection and pondering.


I reflect and ponder because my attempts at understanding or explaining are finite and futile at best. But this reassuring, resounding truth overwhelms the questions, fears, and grief like a blanket wrapped around the nakedness of my soul: I AM.


He is hope, rest, peace, comfort, joy, a man well-aquainted with grief. He is.


If you know my pastor (who happens to be my boss), then it's no wonder I have been reading a book by Vance Havner. My eyes and my heart rest on these words tonight:

For there is injustice and senseless misery in this world and oceans of bitterness that no smooth proverbs can mitigate and no logic solve. There are hateful situations and wretched circumstances that we cannot make head nor tail of; the wicked prosper and the righteous suffer; fine lives snuff out early and devils live on and on; war and crime and poverty and pain drive men to wonder whether God is deaf or dead. One cannot face such a world with a string of phrases nor unravel its evil with the yardstick of reason. Most of our comforters are pitifully inadequte.

We are not primarily to figure out trouble nor even to bear it--we are to use it and, rightly used, some very fine things can be made of it. . . . The greater our trouble the greater in character we are if we master it. It may be a bitter struggle that drains us of every bit of moral energy at the time. But if we come out sturdier in our hearts, then we have converted it into a blessing and transmuted gall into glory. (In Tune With Heaven, pp. 196-197)

I told a friend tonight that in moments like these, I am even more grateful for hope. Hope that does not disappoint. Hope that moves our tunnel vision beyond the temporal and spreads before our eyes the grand banquet of the eternal. Hope that can tune the heaviest heart to sing a beautiful melody, though its chords may be disonant and its tune frail in places.


And now that my mind has been pondering and grasping for words for well over thirty minutes, you know what is most amazing to me? That my heart longs to burst forth in praise to my gracious God. As if springs of worship find their way through the complexities of my thoughts and burst through to the surface and spill out over my soul. And their cool, soothing streams flow with a refreshing theme: hope.

"Let Your steadfast love, O Lord, be upon us, even as we hope in You."

Psalm 33:22

"Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for He who promised is faithful."

Hebrews 10:23

"But I will hope continually and will praise You yet more and more." 

Psalm 71:14

prompts for prayer

One of my favorite things about Christmastime happens around 11:30 each December morning when our mail is delivered. Because I was home on maternity leave during this time, I would anxiously rush out to the mailbox with all the wonder and anticipation of a child on Christmas morning. Hand-addressed envelopes would always catch my eye first, some in hues of crimson or green. I would sort out the letters I suspected of holding the rich gems and rip them open with no concern for their paper overcoats.


Most often I would try to ignore the sender's address to maintain the surprise as long as possible. And there they were...Christmas cards! I particularly love photo cards, the faces of our precious friends and family on display in brilliant colors. Children with grins painted ear-to-ear, a bride and her groom with all the wonder and joy of newly married bliss, and more. Each picture tells a story. Each image captures my heart. I love these cards because I love these people.


Each card finds a special place in a fine china bowl, its creamy white and brown with gold gilded edges provides the perfect home for these delights. I find myself stopping there often, sometimes more than once a day, to thumb through the images and reflect on these sweet ones we love dearly.



As December passes, and Christmas decor is once again packed away, I can't bear to discard these treasures. They sat in the beloved bowl for weeks before I finally came up with an idea. In years past, we've used our cards as prompts to pray for the people pictured. This year, I decided to take that one step further.


I emailed each family who sent us a card and told them we would be praying for them throughout the year. I asked them to reply with some specific requests that we could take before the throne of grace on their behalf. As the replies came in, I wrote the requests on the back of each card. We will select one card each week or so and pray for that family as the Lord brings them to mind throughout the week, especially during mealtimes.


Prayer has a supernatural way of not only tying our hearts to the will and heart of God, but also to the hearts of other people. When I see these precious faces at church or on Facebook or even in the grocery store, I am reminded of their prayer concerns. They are more than that cute family who made a friendly gesture by dropping a Christmas card in our mailbox. Behind the paper smiles are real needs...a son whose mother may lose her job, a wife who longs for her husband to return to church, a parent seeking wisdom in raising her son.


I guess mailing cards at Christmas can be ordinary or predictable. But that's where most of us live...in the ordinary, predictable, routine, day-to-day of life. What ordinary event or gesture or tradition could the Holy Spirit use in your life to prompt you to engage in the supernatural? What mundane task or everyday object could remind you to stop and put the needs of others ahead of your own?

"There is nothing that makes us love a man so much as praying for him."
- William Law

thirty

I turned 30 a couple of weeks ago. Surprisingly to me, it wasn't the earth-shattering, end-of-life-as-I-know-it event that some people had made it out to be. Honestly, it was just another day.


My husband certainly made it a memorable one, pulling off a fabulous surprise dinner with my close friends and family three days after my milestone so I wasn't suspect in the least! But prior to my secret celebration, he arranged for a sitter and took me to Thomasville for dinner at our favorite spot, Jonah's.

I love car rides with my hubby because we never lack for conversation. In true 30 fashion, our chit-chat revolved around that rather unintimidating number. He listed 30 things he loves about me, and we bantered back and forth about the 30 most memorable events throughout our relationship. It was one of those times I wished I had a video camera to record every utterance, every laugh, and every glance because the detailed memory fades too quickly.


The ride home was more of the same. But I pulled out paper and pen when we began discussing 30 things we'd like to instill in our son. This certainly isn't an exhaustive list, though some of you may think it's exhausting! I don't think I can even grasp how valuable this list is or will be to us in the future.



So, to our precious son, full of innocence and potential and wonder, here are 30 things we hope to teach you or instill in you as we shepherd your heart and steward your life. (They occur in no particular order...)

1. Your purpose is to glorify God, and your goal is to live a life worthy of Christ.
2. You are to treat women with dignity and respect.
3. A deep admiration, loyalty, and love for family.
4. You are no more deserving of the love and grace of God than someone else.
5. An understanding of mature, biblical manhood and womanhood.
6. The joy and necessity of Scripture memory.
7. A deep, abiding love and insatiable hunger for the Word of God.
8. The value of close friends.
9. A humble compassion for "the least of these".
10. An understanding of the pricelessness of purity.
11. A comprehension of the vastness of the lost world, coupled with an understanding of the magnitude of the power of the gospel to change lives.
12. The power and freedom of forgiveness.
13. A strong work ethic and an appreciation for doing things with excellence.
14. The value of laughter and fun.
15. Always have God at the bottom of your joy.
16. Circumstances do not hinder the power of Christ.
17. Honor those who've journeyed further than you and spend more time listening to them than talking to them.
18. The importance and timelessness of a thank-you note.
19. The reality that we do not battle against flesh and blood.
20. The ability to dance...and make up an impromptu rap. :)
21. Life and death are in the power of the tounge.
22. The wise see danger and seek refuge, but fools keep going and suffer for it (Proverbs 27:12).
23. God never wastes experiences.
24. Salvation is an act of God from start to finish.
25. The courage to stand for what is right regardless of the sacrifice.
26. Never underestimate the power or consequence of one simple act of obedience or disobedience.
27. How to manage God's time discerningly as priceless gems and how to be a wise financial steward.
28. Dream BIG!
29. The importance of honesty and integrity.
30. You will be shaped by the places you go, the books you read, and the people you meet.

It's a tall order, but we don't want to go wandering through parenthood aimlessly. Maybe in 30 years, when you're pondering 30 things, you can quiz us on our list. By God's grace, we'll instruct you and teach you in the way you should go.

30 has come and gone. But I'm grateful for a milestone turned into a priceless memory.