Love Your Enemies

March 11, 2011 in Witness | Leave a comment

I have an enemy. I’ve been going through an awful time with it. Absolutely terrible. I won’t go into specifics, but let’s just sum it up this way. It’s awful. My stomach has been tied in knots. I’ve been stressed beyond belief. And I’ve let this person torture me.

After several days of anxiety, I finally prayed for God to just take it, have His way with it. That helped a bit. But there was still a lot of hurt and anger and worry. Last night, I tried a different approach. I prayed for her. It was suddenly obvious to me that the treatment I was receiving was not just a response to things I may or may have not done. I realized she must have a deep wound. That she has unresolved issues. That she is hurting and just not reacting positively to it. That despite the harsh, threatening exterior, she’s just another fragile, broken vessel. I prayed that she would find peace and that she would be enlightened. I prayed that this situation could just be put behind us. I prayed for her healing.

In Matthew 5:44, it says very clearly to, “love your enemies, bless those who curse you, do good to those who hate you and pray for those who spitefully use you and persecute you.” This passage goes on to say that if you only love those who love you, then you really aren’t accomplishing much. It’s pretty easy to love those who love us.

I had a moment of compassion and clarity. It lasted about 8  hours. Today was filled with resentment and rage. Frustration. I’m anxious to draw to a resolution. And I most certainly did not love my enemy today. But I’m praying again for her tonight. And I’m praying for a continued compassion within me. I’m striving to love more than those who love me. It’s a tall mountain to climb. But I’m climbing.

Seeing the Difference

March 7, 2011 in Journey | Leave a comment

I never know when an idea will hit me. As a result, I almost always have a pen on hand and some form of paper. I make notes on napkins, envelopes, notebooks, gum wrappers, anything that is near me when inspiration hits.  My mind never rests. It’s always turning. So I’m almost always reaching for something, anything that can help me record my thoughts.

I have drawers packed with scraps of scrawl. Sometimes, when I revisit them, I can’t even read my own handwriting and have little or no idea what I tried to write down. Other times I read it back and wonder how I thought it was worth writing down in the first place. And every once in a while, I stumble upon a surprise.

Tonight, I was rummaging through my scrap heap and came across a few old church bulletins. They were several years old. I had scribbled all over them with lines of poetry, thoughts about fiction projects and new characters.  Evidently not paying much attention to the church service around me. I was taking the time to brainstorm, to drift off into a daydream.

After finding several examples of where I had checked out of worship to write, I retrieved a few programs from the past several weeks. To my pleasant surprise, they looked much different. The same chicken scratch covered them, but instead of another plot twist, I was writing down key points the pastor had made. I was recording inspirations from God. Verses or analogies or key words that would later remind me of something important He was sharing with me. I was in communion with God. 

I view this as a physical sign of how far I’ve come in the past few years. How much closer I am. How differently I approach my faith walk. It’s very encouraging for me to have proof of the progress. See for yourself, if you can read my writing:

  

This first image is a collection of notes from church services where I obviously had more on my mind than God.

This second image is from a church service I attended a few weeks back. Notice the difference.

Give and Take

March 4, 2011 in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Let go and let God. That’s what they say. Give it to God. All your sins. Worries. Troubles. He will carry your burden for you.

Sometimes, it isn’t that easy. Sometimes, I need Him to pry my hands loose and wrestle it from me. Swipe it right out of my arms. Strip me of it. Separate me from it.

For the longest time, I thought I had to release it, hand it over to God. I’ve discovered that I can also ask God to take it. And if my heart is right, and I am broken enough, He’ll do just that. Today, on the drive to work, my stomach was knotted, my eyes hurt, I was stressed beyond belief. Worried. I had been in this condition for two days straight, allowing my circumstances to eat me alive. I wanted to let go and let God. But I wasn’t strong enough to set it free. It had a hold of me, and I couldn’t shake it.

I prayed for God to take it. Just to take it away. I couldn’t handle it, didn’t want it.

And he took it.

The stress is still there. The situation causing the stress is still in play. But I have much more peace about it.  God has been faithful in taking it on Himself. Allowing me some relief. This is not the first time this year that I’ve prayed for God to take. He’s currently 2 for 2.  

So, when I can’t find a way to give, I ask God to take.  As a result, I have a different “take” on this passage from Job.

Job 1:21 – Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked I will depart. The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; may the name of the Lord be praised.

Our God provides in many wonderous ways. I’ve come to learn that His giving can even include taking. You only need ask.

The Act of Threshing

February 25, 2011 in Journey, Relationship, Sin | Leave a comment

Before there were machines for such things, a threshing floor was used remove harvested grain from its stalk and husk. It was a flattened surface, usually circular and paved. Often it was shared by several families or entire villages, and it was usually placed outside the village where it could be exposed to wind. The farmers would spread the sheaves of grain across the floor and use animals such as donkeys or cattle to thresh the grain by walking around in circles and dragging a heavy board behind them.

This activity would literally tear the ears of grain from the stalks and loosen the grain from the husks. Afterward, all the grain and broken stalks would be tossed into the air with a tool called a “winnowing fan”.  The chaff and straw would blow away with the wind, while the heavier grain would fall to the floor, ready to be collected.

I keep bumping into references to “threshing floors” while reading scripture lately. The last time it happened, I was finally curious enough to find out what a threshing floor actually is. In researching threshing floors, I uncovered the information above, and I came across an article by Don Walker who wrote:

“I believe that worship for us is to be a time of “threshing”, when God separates the “wheat’ from the “chaff” in our lives. When we enter into worship, we are stepping on to God’s “threshing floor” where He deals with those things which need to be “winnowed” out of our lives. ”  http://www.preteristarchive.com/PartialPreterism/walker-don_pp_04.html

More broadly, I feel like this is a metaphor for our ongoing relationship with God. I’ve written before about circling the drain and consistently encountering and addressing common challenges and issues you have.  While we circle, I also believe we undergo this threshing process, where God literally separates us from those things that separate us from Him.

Threshing is such a painful sounding word. The entire process sounds painful. Especially if you are the grain. Think about it. First, you get harvested from your resting place and carted over to this pit in the middle of nowhere with gusting winds. You are thrown on a paved surface where heavy animals trample about while dragging a large, heavy piece of wood over you, with the specific intent of tearing you into pieces. Then, as you lie there in several pieces, you are scooped up, tossed into the air, where the wind blows scatters parts of you across the way and the rest of you lands back in a pile on the floor. Ouch.

A relationship with God is going to include pain. Really choosing to be in a close relationship with Him requires threshing. A lot of threshing. A violent battle with parts of yourself. A tearing, trampling, wind-blown experience. I have been carried to the threshing floor several times this past year. Each time, it is painful, uncomfortable, slightly agonizing. But every time I commit and see it through, I exit in a better form, cleaned of unnecessary parts, more focused and concentrated, closer to the grain He planted in the first place.

Quiet Time

February 22, 2011 in Journey | Leave a comment

It’s been quiet on my end. I haven’t had a chance to blog much the past week or so, which is okay because I haven’t been all that inspired to write anyway. I haven’t really heard a lot from God. And all of that is okay.

There was a time when I’d hit the panic button if I didn’t feel like God was feeding me insights on a daily basis, if I didn’t step to the computer with half a dozen posts at my fingertips. If I didn’t feel like my journey was in high gear and moving forward.

What I’ve come to realize is that sometimes God just wants me to slow down and sit with things. Spend some quiet time. Let silence carry the conversation. Get some rest and be refreshed for the next leg of the journey.

And so I’m trying to slow down, sit, be quiet, relax, pause. And for the first time, I’m actually having some success doing so. It’s a peaceful feeling. I’m surprised by how much movement I can make in this journey by standing still.

Stung Like a Bee: Down and Out

February 16, 2011 in Journey, Relationship | Leave a comment

So the swarm balls and deserts

Seventy feet up, in a black pine tree.

It must be shot down. Pom! Pom!

So dumb it thinks bullets are thunder.

I love Sylvia Plath. She was a tragic, dark woman surrounded by trials and tribulations. Her life ended abruptly in suicide. But her writing is haunting and gorgeous and sustains her as one of the most influential poets of modern times. Agree?

The above is the way she closes a poem called “The Swarm”. I read it for the first time in a long time just the other day.

As my limited web research tells me, when bees swarm, sometimes they cluster in a ball high in a tree. They stay there until they decide where they want to go. Loud, sudden noises can make them come down to a lower level where the beekeeper can reach them and collect them. From here, the bees can be easily led and managed. In Plath’s poem, a shotgun blast does the trick.

I compare this to my journey in that it is easy for the world to make a loud noise, cause me to take my eyes off God, to lose focus and to spiral into the danger zone where I am easily led and managed away from my safe place on high. The loud noises are so tempting. They scream for attention. They are so very effective.

Remember when Peter was walking on water toward Jesus? He was doing great. But then the wind got “boisterous” and he hesitated, he became unfocused, he took his eyes off God…and he started sinking. Just like those bees. Down and out.

Sometimes the loud noise that gets me is just a distraction. Sometimes a wound. Sometimes a worry. A wavering of faith. A temptation. In any event, it can be hard to fight the  instinct to turn my head or duck upon hearing such a noise. Even when I’m walking on water, hearing from God in major ways, a loud clap can snap me right out of it. And down I go. Lured away. Dumb enough to think bullets are thunder.

The Waffle House Effect

February 10, 2011 in Witness | Leave a comment

Legend has it that once there a business school case study on Waffle House, where a professor asked his class to come up with the answer to this question. What is the single, most important reason the popular breakfast chain is so successful? Responses from students ranged from specific menu items to positioning of the restaurants in prime locations. The winning response? Big windows.

Here’s the theory: The large windows across the front of every Waffle House provide a clear view of what’s going on inside. This transparency draws people in because they see something that is appealing to them. They see the genuine experience other diners are having. There is no opportunity for false advertising or deception. They can relate and connect with the diners inside. I can smell the coffee right now!

The innkeeper from my writing retreat told me this story over breakfast last Sunday. I haven’t been able to find evidence of the study online just yet, so I can’t say for sure I have the facts right.  But that’s not mission critical for this post, I don’t think.  

We are called to be genuine and transparent.  Being real, open and vulnerable brings us closer to worshiping and closer to witnessing than anything else can. It can help us get closer to God and experience closer community with those around us. And, it can be a powerful way to connect with those who are seeking God.

The next time you drive by a Waffle House, or settle in for a nice hot breakfast,  ask yourself: How big are my windows?

Packing Up

February 6, 2011 in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Two days, one near hard drive crash and half a case of carpal tunnel later…oh, and 186 pages…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-hl4HSLrZrU

Video Report: Writing Weekend

February 6, 2011 in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Here it is. My first video blog. I have been typing all day, so needed to expand into a different medium of communication! Enjoy!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t4WHpw46jqQ

Here I Go

February 4, 2011 in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Two hours in. Making some progress. Hitting some walls. All in all, it’s what you might expect. The space is amazing. I’m sure I’ll be proud of where I land by Sunday afternoon.

Areas of Interest

Past Stops on the Journey

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