pursuing peace

I heard an interesting statistic the other day. Most American children have a few hundred toys by the time they are in grade school. But daily  play with only 12 on an average.  So as you are wading through the shin deep flotsam of toys, broken or whole, let that number open your eyes. Let it allow you to look down and see this bumpy, chaotic floor covering for what it is. And for what it does to the quality of your life.

Sometimes these small, plastic, crafty things come in from family members. Sometimes they are party favors. Perhaps they are pieces of an heirloom fort or doll house. But if you, mom, are bringing them into your peace, could you rethink?

Instead of trolling the $1 aisle at Target or the clearance rack at WalMart for something to tell your child that you love them and thought of them, how about a new idea. How about expressing that affection or rewarding that good behavior with a memory instead? Take them to the mall carousel. Take them for a dollar cone at Wendy’s. Take them to see Dad at work. Fly a kite. Go to the Library. Offer to dog walk at the Pet Rescue place with your child. Drive out to see horses in their fenced meadows. Watch airplanes land and take off. Bake cookies and take them to a neighbor. I’m pretty sure your children would much rather have your time than stuff.

Lonely

Is loneliness bad? It feels bad. It causes pain. But is that bad?

A friend gave me a hug this morning. That felt nice. Then she said that she felt badly with how alone I have been in this latest illness. Oh my. I've been on the teary side ever since. Because although I have had people care for me, and visit me, and write me, illness is a lonely thing. You feel nausea, or pain, or weakness all by yourself. And having no 'echo' back of someone knowing how that is, seems.....hard. But that isn't bad. It's just hard.

What does grace do?

I've been thinking lately about what it feels like to be comforted. Recently I was in the hospital. And while this has been a not unusual event for me, this stay was more than I wanted or expected or had endurance for. Frankly I was bewildered and hurting and close to panic. Of course I cried out to God. Of course I asked Him to open my eyes to His presence. And the tears still flowed and the fear was strong. As we waited for a diagnosis for what seemed, to quote Brian Regan, 'that my insides want to be on my outside', we were upset and in distress. Later that night as I tried to sleep with a tube down my nose, and the worst. nausea. ever. I asked God to reveal Himself to me. I felt comfort. I felt He was there. That He knew how hard this was on me, and that He wasn't intending to leave me alone.

A few days later, tube still in place and irritating the heck out of me, I began pondering what grace does. Like, what can you expect grace to feel like? If you ask for it, or desire it for another who is suffering, what would that look like?

This is not a complete answer, but this is what I know for today: Grace doesn't necessarily make the trial go away. God has His good and holy reasons for why He interrupts health. Or happiness. But grace opens my awareness to notice God. And the gift of knowing His nearness is good! It comforts. It warms. It strengthens my weak faith. So may it increase!

growing in belief

Its not the circumstances that affect our attitude abut life, its our certainty of what is to come. Our belief about the future affects our attitude about today's trials and joys. If I'm in a tough one and can't imagine what the outcome might be, I will groan and cry and curse and squirm. But If I know that I know that God has a definite goal to this season, that His will is being accomplished through my groaning, and I believe firmly in His goodness, then unbelief cannot touch me. I will be satisfied with His provision as painful as it might be as a 'momentary light affliction'.

Here is an illustration: Courage can come from hearing the bugle, the anthem over the hills of help coming. In the battle I may grow so weary that my hand drops my sword and I am literally stopped from any offensive or defensive action. Then I hear the sound of a bugle announcing the arrival of fresh troops that I had given up hope on. Then even before I see them coming, or have their actual physical aid to join me in the fight, I find that I have a surge of energy and hope and passion again. Now I can pick up that dropped sword and start using it. Just the knowledge that this help is coming is enough to change me, as if it were already here.

My children, keep yourself free from idols

Something I have been mulling over is something I have read and re-read in Isaiah 44. The portion where Isaiah goes off on the lunacy of taking one tree and using half as a source of fuel to cook food and the other half to be carved by man's hands into a form that then becomes one's god. The thoughts that I have are these: Jehovah God was the one who gave us the tree in the first place as a good thing that is useful. We can praise God for its provision. But to then make it into a source of life, one that you go to for nourishment, for protection against bad things, for pleasure or escape, for answers when feeling lost, for power over foes...well then, it has now become a futile idol.

One litmus test for me is to ask myself, is this relationship, this position, this item, this exciting plan, one that God intended to bless me with, but I have now turned it into a source of life for me? Do I grow afraid at the thought of losing it? Do I value the thought of it more than God? Do I spend inordinate amounts of time thinking, defending, pursuing it? God gave me this thing (strength, money, a friendship, a love of beauty, a love of sports, a love of words) but never to become a source of life for me. He wants me to step away from the intensity of my emotions, and hold the 'idol' loosely, and ask Him to reveal anything unwholesome about it and let Him transform it from idolatry to a recognition of this being just one of His provisions.

What God does well

Ever wonder what God had in mind when He mercifully and creatively led you into a difficult season? Or allowed you to fall? At the end of his life King David said, 'Bless the Lord who has redeemed my life from all distress.' Which isn't to say that God has made all of the distressing things go away or to not be true. But that He redeems them. I like this definition:

Redemption=“to purchase back for the sake of restoring. To return that which was sold away, tarnished, given up, ruined, left for dead. To reclaim in such a manner that the resulting state is stunningly more wonderful than what would have otherwise been.”

what does surrender feel like?

The other day a friend and I were talking and I asked her to write down the emotions of a soul right before surrender occurs. And then what it feels like once you do cry 'uncle' to God.

Clinging to rights. Logical inner argument. Indignant. Self-deserving. Self-justifying. Frustrating. Exhausting. No brain rest/circling thoughts.

And then mercy steps in and reveals the real fight and we feel:

Healthy grief/sadness. Loss. Lifting of an immense burden. Relief. Illogical yet healthy letting go. Expectancy and wonder for what God will do next. Sensing room for God's sovereignty.

When we find that our struggle is not really about another person; that its really about our response to a difficult situation, then we are given spiritual energy to surrender. To give up the expectation that someone will apologize, or agree with me, or recompense a loss.

Its called freedom.

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