Giving birth

I'm about a week away from giving birth to our second child, and it's gotten me thinking a lot about spiritual birth and growth.

You see, as a child of God, when your life is surrendered to Jesus and his way, the Holy Spirit is actively working with you to bring about new life in you--all the time. As you grow in him, he is calling you to give birth to new ways of being Christ's: submitting more to the will of God, growing in the virtues, testing new spiritual muscles, reaching out to people with God's love. We don't become "holy " overnight, even though in God's eyes, washed by the blood of Jesus, we stand justified. It takes time, practice, faithfulness, and plain ol' obedience.

The Christian life is, as Eugene Peterson once ably put it, "a long obedience in the same direction." (Actually Peterson was quoting, of all people, Frederick Nietzsche, who wrote: "The essential thing 'in heaven and earth' is. . . that there should be a long obedience in the same direction; there thereby results, and has always resulted in the long run, something which has made life worth living." Well said, Fred!)

So what does this have to do with giving birth? Well, just as we can "give birth to sin" as the book of James describes it (James 1:15), we can also give birth to the work that the Holy Spirit has done in us.

What is the Holy Spirit birthing from within you? What new challenge, what new test of faith, what new level of commitment or character is he calling out of you?

It may involve pain, but the pain of labor always fades and pales compared to the new life that comes after delivery.

Is there an area in your life in which you are resisting him? Are you trying to ignore the new thing that he is doing within you? That tactic makes just as much sense as a pregnant woman ignoring her expanding belly, or ignoring the signs of labor and going about her life as if this impending miracle weren't real. We would question her sanity, for sure. It's the same with a believer who resists the labor pains that the Holy Spirit stirs within her.

Spiritual growth, like the labor pains of pregnancy, can involve real suffering and pain, but it's always pain with a purpose. Our Lord does not abandon us even as he calls us forward; our holiness in Him is what he's all about. He is more concerned about our holiness than our happiness, more concerned about our character than our comfort:

Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us. (Romans 5:1-5)

Let him produce these traits in you. Give birth to what he has planted within you. Nurture the life that stirs within you with regular feeding on the word of God and regular check-ups with fellow believers. The Christian life is not static; it is ever about giving birth and growing.

Craving His Presence

Lately, I've had a distinct craving simply to be in God's presence. Honestly, I don't regularly "feel" that longing. When it comes, I savor it immensely.

I've read and re-read Psalm 84 nearly every night before I go to sleep for the past few weeks, because it encapsulates so fully what my soul longs for:

"How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord of hosts!
My soul longs, yes, faints for the courts of the Lord;
my heart and flesh sing for joy to the living God.

"Blessed are those who dwell in your house, ever singing your praise.

"For a day in your courts is like a thousand elsewhere.
I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of the wicked" (Psalm 84:1-2, 4, 10).

I have found myself periodically humming the fourth movement of Brahms' German Requiem ("How Lovely is Thy Dwelling Place") as I lay in bed at night, watching the sun set behind the trees outside my window. Their slender, just-budding branches reach like arms into the chilly nighttime air; the cluster of trees appear like worshipers yearning to live into that longing for their Lord.

Like these bare and reaching trees, we hunger for our creating, redeeming, and sustaining God. We were made for him, and our hearts are truly restless until they find their rest in the One who alone can satisfy them.

Still, it is so easy for me to approach the Lord with my laundry list of wishes. I pray prayers full of good intentions, but also full of busyness and business. These are good and right prayers. They have a place before the throne of our Lord who attends to the details of the frailest of his creatures.

But they are also prayers that scratch the surface of my need. I come to God full of restlessness that I assume will be calmed by the Lord's action on my behalf. I want him to fix stuff for me, but I don't necessarily want (or have the time for!) HIM. "Oh Lord, help me in this... please do that for me... I know that all will be well once this issue gets resolved." It's a common pattern of relating for a creature to get stuck in. As a creature, I have a limited imagination of my place and His place in the grand narrative that he is writing.

But there are moments in our lives, perhaps less frequent than we care to admit, that we find our loving Lord prompting us to reach deeper and further. He beckons us to feel the restlessness of our hearts in a more piercing way. We are led to feel and know truths about our need for him, and to push into his very presence. When we begin to truly feel the restlessness of our hearts that is deeper and far more real than our messy house or our busy lives, we are finally able to discover his utter sufficiency to satisfy and fill us with Himself.

You may feel dry and brittle in your heart. You are in need of a soaking rain of God himself. You may not even feel longing for him. But I can assure you, you do. It's easy to confuse our thirst for our good and gracious God, triune in being, with a host of other things, people, ideas, and beliefs. It's also easy for the cares of this world, and of our crooked little hearts, to stifle the holy longings that a heart made for God has for God.

Press in deeper, gentle reader. Press in deeper. Meditate on the names of God. Savor them like honey in your mouth. Whether you feel it or not, it is his presence that you desperately crave.

He is Risen!

Alleluia!

Christ is risen! The Lord is risen indeed!

Alleluia!

This is the foundation of our hope, fellow Christ-follower. This is the truth upon which our faith is grounded, upon which the axis of the earth turns.

If Christ had not been raised, we would be a people to be pitied. A deluded and foolish people, who believe in fairy tales, who escape into wishful thinking, and who have no hope.

But we are not to be pitied... because the tomb is empty!

The long nights of confusion and dread, as Jesus' followers wondered what had happened to the good news revolution, were undone by the shuddering thunder of a moving stone, tumbling from a tomb entrance. Roman soldiers were left helpless and fearful by the strange things that happened that morning. Grieving women were startled by an angel. The gloom of Friday and the seemingly endless Saturday were shattered by the ecstatic triumph of Sunday. Strange things after much grief.

Welcome to the resurrection. Welcome to life as we have never known or seen it. Welcome to the new thing that God is doing (Isaiah 43:19).

Streams now flow in deserts (Isaiah 35:6). Mountains made low, crooked paths made straight (Luke 3:5). Sinful hearts washed and reborn. Life is the final word. Not death (1 Corinthians 15:55).

Life.

In the Fridays and Saturdays of your life, do not be afraid. Even as the waves of despair and death surround you, and cover your head, your deliverer is coming. He who has conquered death is on his way.

Sister in Christ, we have the hope that we will, one day, be raised to new life.

Prayer: Go out now as God's chosen witnesses to testify that Christ has been raised and that we are raised with him. Set your minds on the things of God and do not be afraid, for your life is safe with Christ in God. And may God raise you from all that would entomb you. May Christ Jesus be your life. And may the Holy Spirit empower you for all that is good. Amen.

Resurrection

I don't know how often "the resurrection" figures in your daily life. It's a question I once posed to some guests that we asked over for dinner, and my husband gave me quite a quirky, "Would you knock off the seminarian-speak?" kind of look when I asked them:

What difference does Christ's resurrection and the belief that those of us in Christ will be raised from the dead make in your daily life?

And please pass the rolls.

Truth be told, it doesn't figure all that much for me. I just don't think about it all that often. Certainly, we celebrate Christ's rising from the dead on Easter. But compared to a holiday like Christmas, Easter can feel very second-fiddle. I'm not about to blame the commercialization of Christmas for it, but it's a really sad reality that Christians often permit Easter to be such a second-class Christian feast.

But it's really understandable why it happens. By the time you've hidden the Easter eggs for your kids, and polished off some spare candy that you kept in reserve, and finished the touches on your Easter ham for your Easter feast, it's really easy to lose sight of the shocking proposal that we as Christians affirm as believing about our Lord:

He died. And then he rose from the dead.

Not just that, but those of us who are in Christ will also be raised from the dead (1 Cor. 15:20-22).

This is terribly relevant stuff. I mean, we're talking life and death. Then why is it that I can wander through any given week and give very little thought to this earth-shaking truth about my Lord? And about me? I guess it's because it just doesn't seem to have anything to do with my doing the dishes, or getting dinner ready, or making sure the laundry's folded.

Honestly, this isn't going to be a devotional post that gives you an answer to the question I proposed above. I don't have one. And I don't dare propose one for you, my gentle reader, just to make this post feel tidy. I'd just suggest that we spent some time preparing our hearts to celebrate Easter, and meditate on Christ's resurrection this week. And meditate on the hope that we have that those of us in Christ will be raised too.

As the church around the world observes this season of Lent, it does so with a growing longing for this Easter hope, for the time of lilies and alleluias, and for the declaration that death is not the final word. That death does not win. Jesus does.

Dig Deeper: I would love to hear your reflections about the resurrection in your daily life. What does it mean to you? To help guide your thoughts, I'd recommend reading the entire chapter of 1 Corinthians 15. Ask the Holy Spirit to press upon you the relevancy of resurrection to our Christian life. (This chapter is not the easiest reading. Don't focus on making sense of it all entirely. Trust that God will reveal what he wants you to dwell upon for Christian faith and life.) Please share your thoughts in the comments about what you hear God say to you in this reading.

PS. On all of my posts, I've made it my policy to link any Scripture references to the text online. The translations will vary, but you can always change them once you get to the text. So, to make engaging with the Bible really easy, just click on the reference.

Discipline Drives out Distraction

The Internet Cafe

welcomes

Laura from My Quotidian Mysteries

I've been especially moved by the recent teaching we've enjoyed as our Anglican church, situated in the Muslim Middle East, has begun the observation of Lent, the forty-day period of penitential solemnity that leads up to Easter. Like a bowl of corn flakes, and with the help of Father Bill, I'm tasting Lent again for the first time with his recent meditations.

Now, hearing the word “Lent” may invoke images of self-flagellation and self-conscious piety, or simply a long time live without chocolate. I’ve often approached the season by trying to come up with something to "give up." Then, like my New Years' Resolutions, I move through the 40-day period in fits and starts of my self-imposed piety.

Fr. Bill challenged that kind of twisted Lenten thinking when our church gathered last week for the Ash Wednesday service. In his sermon, he acknowledged that a lot of the efforts we go to for Lent can easily distract from the point of the season:

"Rather than focus on the things you 'should' give up for Lent, use this time in the church year to add a discipline or habit,” he said. "If there's one thing I want you to take away from this sermon, it's that discipline drives out distraction. And the whole point of Lent is to focus our attention on God's costly love for us in the sacrifice of Christ for our sins. It’s not to focus on what we have done for God in our disciplines, but to use disciplines to focus on what God has done for us in Christ."

It’s tempting to avoid the pitfalls of spiritual disciplines by abandoning them altogether. While Jesus warns us to “Beware of practicing your righteousness before other people in order to be seen by them” (Matt 6:1, ESV), he doesn’t say, “So just forget about spiritual disciplines altogether.”

Nope. Jesus says, “You’ve missed the point of spiritual disciplines if they become their own end, if you’re just putting on a show of righteousness for the attention of others, or if it’s for your own sense of self-righteousness.”

Even as he warns about the pitfalls, Jesus tells us to practice spiritual disciplines: “When you fast…,” (Matt 6:16). Hunger from fasting is a powerful way to focus the mind and heart for prayer and meditation on God’s love for us in the costly sacrifice of his son, Jesus Christ.

Engaging in spiritual disciplines doesn’t make us more worthy of this love; it makes us slow down to encounter it.

The Lord doesn’t want your pious efforts per se. He wants your heart. He wants to strip away the distractions that dull our loving communion with him. Any sin in our lives will most certainly sever that loving communion with him. But sometimes even the busyness and activity of church can dull our communion with the Lord.

Sometimes, our self-conscious efforts at trying to “please God” can utterly distract us from the truth that, in Christ, we are forgiven. We are saved, cleansed, and healed. God has done this work, with no help from us. He just wants us to slow down enough to let that loving truth sink into our sin-sick, and maybe self-righteous-sick, soul.

Just as I am without one, but that they blood was shed for me, and that thought bidd’st me come to thee, O Lamb of God, I come, I come.

Dig Deeper: Take time today to read through a chunk of Scripture, asking the Holy Spirit to slow down and focus your mind, guide your reading, and open the eyes of your heart to encounter God’s great love for you. I’d recommend some traditional Lenten readings: Joel 2:1-17; 2 Corinthians 5:20-6:10; and/or Matthew 6:1-21. If you'd like to explore more about classical spiritual disciplines, I'd recommend this book for further reading.

"My Grace is Sufficient for You"

"My grace is sufficient for you, Laura." (2 Cor. 12:9)

That scripture raced through my mind while I sat on the toilet, with a neighbor of mine standing next to me, as my back wrenched in painful, unrelenting spasms. At nearly 6 months pregnant yet too often hoisting my 18-month old daughter, I found that my back stopped working a week ago.

The clenching pain was far more serious than anything I felt in childbirth. I literally couldn't walk for days. My legs wouldn't respond. Any movement exacerbated the pain. Over the last few days, I’ve relearned to walk, and the pain has diminished. But I also know I must take better care of my body if I don't want to face that kind of paralyzing pain again.

(Honestly, if you want to read more, you can click here and here. But read what follows first.)

In this experience I became helplessly dependent on people around me. And they had to help me do things like walk me to the bathroom and pull my pants down for me. It was profoundly humbling. Far from home, an expatriate in the Middle East, I had no choice but to turn to people near me who were willing to help and receive what they could give.

These neighbors were God's gracious gift to this proud and self-dependent soul. We received meals, childcare, and ministering presences over this past week--none of which we could have planned. These "coincidences" awakened our little family to the reality that our Lord knows what we need and will give to us. He will.

Today, you may be facing physical pain, emotional turmoil, marital strife; or life for you might be rather cheery. Regardless, I know with confidence that our Lord is actively at work to provide for you.

But it might not be in the ways you want or expect. I never would have wanted what I've been through. But God opened my eyes to his provisions right in the middle of my pain. He gave me the eyes to see what he was giving me; the pain woke me up to his mighty hand of grace.

My priest prayed this prayer for me when this whole episode began, and I'd like to give it to you: I pray, Father, that you would give (your name) a clear perception of your grace today in the midst of the circumstances in which she finds herself. Let her know that your grace is sufficient, in whatever form it comes. Amen.

A clear perception of grace - that means having the eyes to see it: "I pray also that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints..." (Eph. 1:18).

Open the eyes of our hearts, Lord. We want to see you. We know you are with us.

Dig Deeper: Pray the prayer above, and watch for God's hand at work today. Pay attention to the small things. Take the time to thank God--and the people he uses--for the ways his grace meets you today and everyday, even if it's not how you'd expect.

Honest to God and to ourselves

My spiritual life was fundamentally changed by a woman in a small group Bible study that I led many years ago.

To put it bluntly, Holly seemed to really know Jesus. It wasn't that she had all the answers or a particularly chirpy personality. She simply lived with a powerful authenticity before the Lord. She had a childlike freedom with him that was startling.

One moment typified how her life in Christ really glowed. I think we had been discussing prayer: how to pray, what to say, that sort of thing.

Holly said, guilelessly and joyfully, "I just tell God what I'm feeling because he knows already anyway. I usually journal all my prayers and I'm really honest in what I write. Because, let's face it, I can't fake it. He knows if I'm really mad at him, or if I'm disappointed about something. He knows, so I just go ahead and tell him. That’s how I pray."

I don't remember if everyone else felt rather stunned by her comment, but I certainly was.

WHAT?!! Just tell God? Everything?

(Won’t he be mad at me if I’m honest?! Am I allowed to be angry with him?!)

For much of my life in Christ, I subconsciously thought God wanted me to put on a good face, and not show doubt or anger. It was easy to get that message, especially as a Christian woman. Basically, I had come to believe it showed the strength of my faith to avoid reality.

But then I started testing Holly’s method. As I read the Psalms, I noticed similar honesty and emotional freedom:

O God, why do you cast us off forever? Why does your anger smoke against the sheep of your pasture? (Ps. 74:1)

With my voice I cry out to the Lord; with my voice I plead for mercy to the Lord.

I pour out my complaint before him; I tell my trouble before him. (Ps. 142:1-2)

Or, most powerfully, the Psalm quoted by our Lord on the cross—as honest as it gets:

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?

Why are you so far from saving me, from the words of my groaning?

O my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer,

And by night, but I find no rest. (Ps. 22:1-2)

As a lay minister of the Lord, Holly gave me permission to enjoy the freedom that I already had in Christ. It changed my life.

We can tell him—anything—because he knows already. He can take it. He’s God. He longs to commune with us in the nitty-gritty details of our day, as mundane, chaotic, or rocked with conflict as it may be. He’s God of the good days, too. Let your praise roll off your tongue, with honesty and joy. He’s God of it all.

Savor the freedom—even the emotional freedom—that you have with our Lord; because it is “for freedom that Christ has set us free” (Gal. 5:1).

Dig Deeper: Try writing a journal entry to the Lord. Tell him what's going on in your life, as if you were writing a letter to a friend. Avoid "finding answers" or "learning lessons." Just tell him what's up.

You are warmly welcomed to visit my personal blog: My Quotidian Mysteries

A Magic Bullet

I ripped open the package on Christmas morning, thrilled to see that all my clever hints and reminders had worked. I finally got it: The Magic Bullet.

It's a little blender, really. Supposedly I'll be able to whip up a batch of guacamole in ten seconds or less. I reckon I'll be able to whip up, blend, chop, or puree anything in ten seconds or less. I'm pretty excited about it.

But I have to admit that receiving the Magic Bullet as a Christmas gift symbolized something much deeper than just getting a mini-blender. It represented a new start to me, a fresh beginning.

Particularly when it comes to household gadgets, time management products, or beauty potions, I'm especially tempted to think, "With this gadget, product, potion, I'll be different. This (thing, book, idea, etc.) will produce that kind of change in my life that I'm longing for. This will be the magic bullet."

That's silly to hear when I spell it out. Honestly, what could a blender provide except globs of pureed food and then a dirty kitchen appliance to clean up? But, when I tore open the package on Christmas morn, I was thinking, "Now I'll be organized. Now I'll be creative and inspired. This Magic Bullet is exactly the magic bullet that I need."

With the coming of a new New Year, it's tempting to engage that kind of magical thinking too. I like to believe that with the stroke of midnight, something happens wherein this year will be the year that I lose weight, change that bad habit, or rehabilitate that relationship. But just like so many Magic Bullet gifts we receive, by February, the newness wears off, and we realize that we're still the same person, and the Magic Bullet is really just a blender.

Our longing for change and newness is a good one; it's something that God instills in us sin-sick souls who hunger for righteousness and a life devoted more fully to worship. Newness and redemption are exactly the business that our Lord is in.

But I will be the first to admit that I rarely want to do the unheroic, hard work of simply showing up in my relationship with the Lord and with other people. I want a spiritual magic bullet so I don't have to actually live through the experiences that require, for instance, patience, mercy, or kindness. I'd rather get the righteousness without all the commitment that righteousness requires. I'd rather craft fanciful New Year's resolutions and let them peter out than do the daily, quiet tasks than actually fulfill the resolutions.

Here's a comforting word, though, to this magic bullet dead-end: Our Lord knows our frame. He knows we write New Year's resolutions with a remarkable propensity to break them. He knows our feeble, twisted, often self-deluding ways, and he still loves us. Very much. Like a Father. (Psalm 103:14)

Bless the Lord, oh my soul, and all that is within me, Bless his holy name!
Bless the Lord, oh my soul, and forget not all his benefits,
who forgives all your iniquity, who heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit, who crowns you with steadfast love and mercy, who satisfies you with good so that your youth is renewed like the eagle's.
(Psalm 103:1-5)

The stroke of midnight will never change my crooked little heart, but with my heart open to Jesus, he can. My New Year's resolutions will most likely beach on the shore of good and forgotten intentions by mid-February, but the love and mercy of the Lord is everlasting. My new Magic Bullet will go the way of most things that cannot satisfy the longings of a heart made for God, but God can.

And I long for the redemption that he alone can give. So do you.

So, let's encourage one another daily, as long as it called Today, so that none of us may be hardened by sin's deceitfulness (Hebrews 3:13).

Laura

Laura is a 30-year-old stay-at-home mom to a busy toddler daughter and is expecting her second child in May. Reared in New York and Pennsylvania, she's a northerner at heart, but went to college in the Midwest where she met her husband. Because he's now a US diplomat, their family lives in Qatar, a small Middle Eastern country in the Gulf, and they worship at the local Anglican church. Laura holds a masters in theological studies from an Anglican seminary, and enjoys reading, writing, singing, playing the piano, and playing with her daughter. You can read more about her daily adventures in life with Christ at her blog, My Quotidian Mysteries ( http://myquotidianmysteries.blogspot.com).