poetry of the Spirit

"Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness.  For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words."  Romans 8:26

It's intriguing to me that I spend my time toying with words, trying to bend words into paragraphs and poems to explain the thoughts of my heart accurately... and that there are things in my heart that I will never be able to express accurately with words.

 Poetry is at its most beautiful when it can express the deepest feelings of human existence, the things we thought we couldn't describe.  The poetry of the Spirit must be mind-numbingly beautiful... "groanings too deep for words."

There are times when my emotions are so deep, or my confusion is so great, that I am at a loss for words.  That is where the Spirit can move and intercede for me.  And often, so often I forget that He is even here, dwelling with me.

I believe this extends beyond our own personal prayers.  I feel this conflict when I'm listening to someone.  Not the half-listening I'm prone to when I'm doing too many things at once.  The focused listening.  When I listen to someone that is struggling.  Struggling with sorrow, direction, depression.  When someone feels like the world is dark and cold.  Again, the confusion.  Lord, I don't even know what to say, let alone what to pray for them.

How do I pray?  How do we pray when we've run out of words?

I think we can tell the Spirit when we have no words and ask for His intercession on our behalf and on behalf of others.  And, because He is God and we are His children, I believe He intercedes even when we are not strong enough to ask Him to.

This makes me wonder.  How often do my thoughts turn to the Spirit?  The One who can express the inexpressible?

"Some souls think that the Holy Spirit is very far away, far, far, up above.  Actually He is, we might say, the divine Person who is most closely present to the creature.  He accompanies him everywhere.  He penetrates him with Himself.  He calls him, He protects him.  He makes of him His living temple.  He defends him.  He helps him.  He guards him from all his enemies.  He is closer to him than his own soul.  All the good a soul accomplishes, it carries out under His inspiration, in His light, by His grace and His help."  -Concepcion Cabrera de Armida

I often forget the Spirit, the One that is so close, the One inside me.  The One who speaks when I have no words.  What power would be present among the body of believers if we truly understood and communed with the Spirit that Jesus gave us?

I want to learn to seek the Spirit, not just when I am at my most desperate, but at all times.  I want to seek Him each day and communicate with Him always.  I want to be in constant conversation with the one who is closer to me than my own soul.

 "And I will ask the Father, and He will give you another Helper, to be with you forever, even the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it neither sees Him or knows Him.  You know Him for He dwells with you and in you."  John 14:16-17

Jesus has given us His Spirit.  He did not leave us alone.  The Spirit is our Helper in our time of need.  Let's learn what it looks like to live with Him together.

two guitars, a keyboard, and a good father

Sometimes I worry when I write (more often when I don't write), that I've lost it.  I'm going to sit down at the Mac and have nothing to say.  And that does happen sometimes.  The cursor sits blinking at me and I have to walk away.  But it's never completely gone, eventually there is always something to write.

Tim gently reminds me that God is not a bad father.  He's not always looking for a chance to steal a gift away from you.  A gift that He gave you.  Father's give gifts to their children, and they expect them to use them, not worry about losing them.

My Mom and Dad gave my brother, sister and I two guitars and keyboard for Christmas one year.  We were taking piano lessons at the time and my parents signed us up for guitar lessons with Charlie Daniels (no, not the Charlie Daniels, the other one who sold instruments in Fresno, California).

My Dad encouraged us to practice the guitar as much as possible, we even brought the guitars in the van and practiced on the way to a track meet.  I think he hoped we would start our own rock band eventually, but we were all a little too shy for that.

In the end, I didn't practice that much.  My brother is the only one of us who can play the guitar, and I took a shortcut and married a guy who could.

This reminds me of how God gives us gifts.  My parents chose to give us those instruments, and encouraged us to "use" the gifts.  The only reason I can't play guitar is because I didn't want it bad enough for myself (and the strings hurt my fingers).  My parents didn't take the gifts away from us, they gave them to us freely and enjoyed seeing us use them.

God gifted you uniquely and it pleases Him to see you use the gifts and talents He has given you.

I think we worry a lot about what God's purpose is for our life and worry what gifts we should pursue.  We lie awake for hours wondering if we should have been an artist, engineer, camp director, missionary, or veterinarian and don't do the simple things.

Love God and love people.  After that, play your guitar, crunch numbers, go fishing, work your job, write your stories, raise your children, and live the life God has given you.

Someday God may take the gift away for a time.  Or you may grow old and not be able to move with as much ease as before.  But that doesn't mean He doesn't have something else for you, something even better.

What makes you feel close to God?  I would imagine it is when you are communicating with Him, just like any good relationship.  For me, it is when I write to Him and for Him.  I encourage you to seek out those places.  Maybe it is when you sing, maybe it is when you are outside, maybe it's when you care for His children.

Revel in the gifts He has given you and thank Him while you work and play.  He's a good Father, you bring Him joy when you live the life He has designed for you.

"Do not be deceived, my beloved brothers.  Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.  Of His own will He brought us forth by the word of truth, that we should be a kind of firstfruits of His creatures."  James 1:16-18

the impossible

Is anything impossible with God?

I don't think so, but I don't live that way.

I realized that there are many things I write off as impossibilities.

This week I talked about Jesus with someone, someone who was one of the last people I would have expected to have a conversation about faith with.

Last night I felt like God was present in the conversation we had at youth group, on a night when I expected that no one would show up.

Tim told me about a quote in the book "The Forgotten God" recently that really spoke to me.  Here it is:

"It's easy to use the phrase "God's will for my life" as an excuse for inaction or even disobedience.  It's much less demanding to think about God's will for your future than it is to ask Him what He wants you to do in the next ten minutes.  It's safer to commit to following Him someday rather than this day."- Francis Chan

I think God works mightily in the 10 minutes we are given at a time when we are willing to listen to the Holy Spirit.  The conversations and actions that make up each day are of use to our Lord when we are willing to give them up to Him.

I think the Spirit prompts us to speak to the lost around us.  I get caught up thinking about what I'm going to do for God in the future and neglect those around me, especially the difficult ones... the ones that seem so far away.

No one is too far from our God this side of death.

I am ashamed that I have judged some hearts as being "too hard" when I choose who I am going to share Christ with.  Somehow I have gotten into the habit of picking out what appear to be "spiritual softballs" and avoid sharing with the ones who are more abrasive, or seem more hard-hearted.

Since when was I allowed to judge an "impossible soul"?

Jesus didn't operate this way when He was on earth.  In fact, He seemed to get along quite well with the tough ones and struggled with the "righteous."  The upstanding people around him wondered what Jesus could see in His motley crew of redeemed sinners, and didn't realize that they were the ones whose hearts were hardened.

Jesus tells a parable about the sower, who threw his seed without partiality on the path, the rocky ground, amongst the thorns, and on good soil.  The sower did not judge the soil but gave the seed to each in good measure.  In the end, only the seeds in the good soil grow and they are a picture of the ones who "hear the word, accept it, and bear fruit."

Rather than being generous with the word like Jesus, I pre-judge the soil and make my own decisions.  Unfortunately, I'm missing the point.  I can only see the outward appearance and not judge the condition of the heart.

The hardest of outward appearance, even the hardest attitude toward God may be hiding a heart that is crying out for Jesus.

Far be it from me to judge who is ready and who is not.

"The Lord is not slow to fulfill His promise as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance."  1 Peter 3:9

God wishes that all His people were saved,and I think I'm ready to share with them now.  I pray that God will lead all of us, the likely and and the unlikely closer to Him.

"For nothing is impossible with God."  Luke 1:37

happy anniversary tim!

Happy Anniversary my Beloved!  You are wonderful and I am so thankful that God brought us together. I love you more than I can say.

the body He has made

"Then she came to a page which was such a blaze of pictures that one hardly noticed the writing.  Hardly-- but she did notice the first words.  They were, An infallible spell to make beautiful her that uttereth it beyond the lot of mortals. "

The above passage is from The Voyage of the Dawn Treader by C.S. Lewis.  Lucy is reading through a book of spells so she can reverse a curse, and she runs across this spell, a spell that will make her more beautiful than anyone else in the world, including her sister.  This  story is strikes home for me, and I'm sure it does for other women as well.

It's no secret.  I have a love-hate relationship with my body, that usually tends towards the latter.  I have struggled with my body image for a very long time.  Some days are better than others, most days are better than they once were, but I'm still not where I would like to be.

I change clothes and re-brush my hair hoping something will change.  Hoping that I will look at the mirror and be satisfied.  Hoping that one day when I pass a beautiful person I won't compare myself anymore.

This week I started reading a book called "Practicing Our Faith" a collection of essays about living out the Christian life.  It deals with many interesting and challenging topics, and one of the essays was titled "Honoring the Body."  In it the author, Stephanie Paulsell, writes about how God made us in His image and He made us beautiful.

I was particularly moved by a story she shared about a young woman who suffered from intense acne.  She could not bear to go out with her friends because she was ashamed of her face.  Her father asked her if he could show her a new way to cleanse herself.  He brought her to the sink and told her to splash her face once and say "In the name of the Father," a second time "in the of the Son," and on the third "in the name of the Holy Spirit."  Finally he said, "Look up into the mirror and remember that you are a child of God, full of grace and beauty."

I loved that.  Too often I look at myself in the mirror and critique all that I see.  I focus upon myself negatively and wish that I was different.  I forget that by wishing that I'm telling God He made a mistake when He made me.

God made us beautiful.  He made you beautiful.  He doesn't make mistakes.

I'm trying to change things up at home.  When I look in the mirror, rather than practicing spite and self-loathing, I thank God for making me.  I thank Him for being my Father.

I posted the following verse on our bathroom mirror:

"As God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience.  Bear with one another and, if anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other; just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive.  Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony."  Colossians 3:12-14

I know my mornings would be different if I focused on clothing myself with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, patience, and love instead of which jeans, t-shirt, sweater, socks, and shoes.

When Lucy finds the beauty spell in the magician's book she is tempted to read it as quickly as possible.  She sees pictures of herself becoming the most beautiful woman and all the kings of the world are fighting for her hand.

"I will say the spell," said Lucy, "I don't care. I will."  She said I don't care because she had a strong feeling that she mustn't."

"But when she looked back at the opening words of the spell, there in the middle of the writing, where she felt quite sure there had been no picture before, she found the great face of a lion, of The Lion, Aslan himself, staring into hers.  It was painted such a bright gold that it seemed to be coming toward her out of the page; and indeed she never was quite sure afterward that it hadn't really moved a little.  At any rate she knew the expression on his face quite well.  He was growling and you could see most of his teeth.  She became horribly afraid and turned over the page at once."

It isn't pleasing to God when we hate the body He created for us, jealously desire beauty, or worship our bodies over the One who created it.

I know that my focus upon myself, though negative, is still a form of self-worship.  It consumes my thoughts and turns me away from my Creator.  I also know that my tendency to jealously compare is harmful to myself and others and disappointing to the One who created me.

You may not be like me.  You may be completely at peace with the body God has given you and be able to thank Him for His wonderful handiwork.  If you are like me, I know that coming to terms with what He has given you, to believe that it is beautiful when everything around you including yourself is telling you don't measure up, is very difficult.  Know that God loves you, and He fashioned you before the beginning of the world.  He knows your name, He knows every hair on your head.

God made our bodies, and He made them good.  And more importantly, He loves us, and He will love us forever.

"When I look at Your heavens, the work of Your fingers, the moon and the stars, which You have set in place, what is man that You are mindful of him, and the son of man that You care for him?  Yet You have made him a little lower than the heavenly beings and crowned him with glory and honor."  Psalm 8:3-5

The Lord has made you wonderfully, and He wants you, His child, to draw near to Him.

"Then her face lit up till, for a moment (but of course she didn't know it), she looked almost as beautiful as that other Lucy in the picture, and she ran forward with a little cry of delight and with her arms stretched out.  For what stood in the doorway was Aslan himself, The Lion, the highest of all High Kings.  And he was solid and real and warm and he let her kiss him and bury herself in his shining mane.  And from the low, earthquake-like sound that came from inside him, Lucy even dared to think he was purring.


"Oh, Aslan," said she, "it was kind of you to come."

the waiting room

"Bob? Right this way please."

The nurse lead an elderly gentleman with a cane to his examination room.

There were seven people left in the waiting room.

"I told you Steve, I was in the meeting. Jefferson was very clear about what his expectations are for the next quarter. We are going to need every last sale in our territory. I'm working on fine-tuning our plan for the next two weeks right now," a woman in business attire with a bluetooth and open laptop continued her work day in a chair near the door. She was very distressed earlier when there wasn't an available outlet for her laptop.

A seat away from the business woman sat a construction worker with his arm in a sling. He had been injured recently on the job in a machine accident. Workman's comp paid his way. He was in for a follow-up. He was watching an Oprah re-run in between paragraphs about the NFL Lockout in a month-old Sports Illustrated.

Across from them sat a couple flirting. The man talked about his recent outdoor adventure; he had been hiking and canoeing for ten days near Lake Superior. He was wearing a black and red plaid shirt and had well-manicured stubble. The woman was blinking repeatedly and leaning in towards him with her arms folded under her bust-line. She occasionally interrupted his story with oohs and ahhs, and expressions of disbelief.

Close to the television sat a mother and her young son. Her son's nose was bright red and he sniffled in between sobs.

"Why don't you play with the Legos, Alex?" Alex shook his head and buried it in his mother's lap. Across from her sat a man with a bottle of hand sanitizer.

"I bet he has an ear infection. Little kids always have ear infections. I used to get them all the time." He squirted his hand with sanitizer and wrung his hands together several times.

"Do you worry about getting sick with something just by coming to the doctor?" the sanitizer man asked Alex's mother.

"No, not too much," she said. "Usually we are already sick, so I don't really think about it."

"Well, I'm not usually sick when I come. I just come to get checked on for my diabetes and asthma. I worry that I'm going to get the flu or shingles. I'm so afraid of shingles."

"Did you get chicken pox when you were little?" asked Alex's mother.

"Yes, it was terrible."

"Well, you don't have to worry then. It's unlikely that you'll get shingles."

"But you can get them. It's not a 100% guarantee. My cousin had both. You have a 20% chance."

"Well," said Alex's mom, "I guess you could get it, but I don't think you should worry."

Sanitizer man squirted his hands again and rubbed them together vigorously.

"You can never be too safe ma'am. Uh, what is your name?"

"Cindy."

"Nice to meet you Cindy. My name is Gary. I'd shake your hand, but, you know."

Cindy nodded.

"How old is your son?"

"Alex, how old are you?" asked Cindy, encouragingly holding up three fingers. Alex buried his face deeper in his mother's lap, then turned his head to peer at Gary with one eye.

"Three years old, huh? I don't remember being three. I remember being four. I got sick and was in the hospital overnight. My mom stayed on the chair next to me and my dad brought me a teddy bear. I got stuck 8 times before they found a vein for my IV. I hated needles ever since then."

Cindy winced and looked down at Alex, hoping he just had an ear infection. "Do you use needles for your diabetes. I mean, to check your blood sugar?"

"Yes," said Gary, "I hate it."

"Alex?" called the nurse, "Mrs. Roberts?" Cindy started to get up.

"Well, it was very nice meeting you Cindy," said Gary. "Good luck with the ear infection Alex." Gary saluted the little boy and started to watch Oprah.

Gary pulled a notecard out of his back pocket. On the notecard he had scribbled, "back mole," and "insomnia." He looked over the card and rehearsed in his head what he would say to his doctor.

"Well Doctor, there is this mole on my back. I have been measuring it for the last ten years and I think it may have grown. Can we check and see if it is cancerous? Also, I have hardly been able to sleep lately and I worry that I am suffering from insomnia. Is there anything we can do to remedy these issues?"

Gary folded up his card and placed it back in his pocket and turned his attention back to the television. A new segment was starting on Oprah. She was going to interview a doctor on early dementia. They were going to talk about cases of dementia before the age of 50. Gary breathed in deeply. He had forgotten his sister's birthday last week. He pulled out his card and scribbled "dementia" under "insomnia."

The business woman and her bluetooth were called into the doctor's office. She huffed past the nurse and muttered something about time being money. The waiting room was much quieter now. Only the couple's flirting conversation could be heard interrupted at regular intervals by the construction worker's snoring.

Gary tried to relax and thought about buying a belated birthday card for his sister at the drugstore on the way home. He would probably need to pick up a prescription anyway.

The door opened again. The construction worker was called in and Alex and Cindy walked out. Cindy finished signing out and paying at the front and walked over to Gary.

"You haven't been called in yet Gary? You were here before we got here." Cindy looked concerned.

"Oh, it's okay. I come here so often they figure I can wait a little longer I guess. How's Alex?"

"You were right, Alex had an ear infection. The doctor gave us a prescription and said it should clear up pretty soon. How did you know?"

"I've seen it before, experienced it myself." Gary shifted uncomfortably. Alex had walked up to him, put his hand on his knee and was motioning towards the Legos in the corner.

"Well, I'm very impressed," said Cindy smiling. "We'll see you later Gary."

"Bye Cindy, Bye Alex. I hope you feel better soon."

hope

I get my hopes up, too fast.

Let's back track a little bit. I love change. Yes, change is difficult. Having moved so many times growing up, I always missed what I had left behind, but I got this insatiable desire for adventure in return. Like Pa Ingalls, "My wandering foot gets to itching," and I'm ready to pack up and move on.

This thirst for adventure gets twisted up in my sense of purpose. Then I feel lost.

"Where I am going?"

"What is the point?"

"Is this it?"

I think about all the things I hope for, the people I want to minister to, the places I'd like to go, the books I want to write, all the things I want to accomplish...I take a look around me and I wonder if those things I hope for so desperately will ever happen. Because I just can't see it right now.

I worry that my dreams are not valid, not important to God. I worry that they don't really line up with His purposes.

I worry that if I do get to fulfill those dreams, I'll get to the other side and say, "That's it? All these years for this?"

I've already seen in my 24 years a pattern with the purposes of God. He may not give you exactly what you want, in the timing you want, or the way you want it. But it is always perfect, and better than what you wanted in the first place. So why worry right?

Easy to put on paper (or screen, I should say), much more difficult to put into emotional practice.

When the future husband, child, job, college, ministry... whatever it is you are hoping for consumes your thoughts constantly, it's not that easy to say "Lord Your will be done." We want to say, "Lord my will be done, please give it Your blessing."

Today, it dawned on me that I have been hoping for good things the wrong way. I hope to have children someday, hope to have a ministry to immigrants and the disabled, hope to live in a different context, hope to be a published author, etc. Are these things wrong and sinful? Not really. But the way I hope for them is.

I have been placing my hope in these things, rather than just hoping they would happen. How do I differentiate between the two? Like this:

When I place my hope in these things, every setback to their fulfillment leaves me hopeless. I feel empty, purposeless, and depressed. I question, "Why am I here right now?" and give myself an early morning pity party before work. I can't see God moving in my circumstances because I have placed all my hope in different circumstances.

I haven't placed my hope in God.

"For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience." Romans 8:24-25

My hope doesn't rest in the unseen. I'm "hoping" in the things of this world, thinking that a change will make me feel happier and more fulfilled. That I will be more in line with God's purposes if I'm doing the things that I am passion about. These things are good, but I cannot place my hope in them... I cannot trust in them.

Even if I was in a dark prison with no food, waiting for my execution I could place my hope in God, in the unseen. I could know that His purposes, though inscrutable at times, were good and I would be with Him for eternity.

Though my circumstances stay the same, though my dreams continue to be dreams, and though all desires may not be fulfilled, I can place my hope in the God who created me and know that He is sovereign in this place. The place that I am today, whether that is the same tomorrow or fades away.

I pray that God would change my heart, that it would always long for the things He longs for. That I would dream about Him and desire His ways.

Instead of looking for the next big change, maybe God Himself is my adventure?

My hope is in You, Your will be done.