When my children were in school it was necessary whenever they were out to send a written note with them explaining why they weren't in school. This went on their record as an 'excused absence'. If I failed to send a note it was unexcused and they couldn't make up the work they'd missed. So no grades for those days when they'd missed school, which hurt if they were not doing particularly well in that class.
This past week I began reading a Grace Livingston Hill book, Katharine's Yesterday. The second story in that book is titled, "An Excuse for Christ" and deals with a new young pastor who has lost heart for his Wednesday night prayer meetings due to the low attendance. Only three or four faithful old parishioner's show up. Listening to his sister-in-law tell his wife how their Christian Endeavor group required 'excused absences' to remain a member, the pastor has the idea of trying something similar.
The following Sunday he announces that anyone who doesn't attend the Wednesday night prayer meeting needs a written excuse stating why they couldn't come. The church was very nearly full come the following Wednesday night because no one could think of a good excuse for not being there!
I was reminded of all this last Saturday when our Rabbi stated that our youngest member had called to state that he'd be unable to come due to a bad head cold...We appreciate this young man very much but he had no particular duty to perform last weekend other than to fill his spot of the pew. I think it's admirable that he feels he must give a reason for his not being there and he always does. I can't say that it's a habit of mine! I'm far more inclined to just assume my reason for missing out on service is my own.
What if we made a habit of giving an excuse each time we needed to be out during our Sabbath day services? What if we were graded only for those days when we had an excused absence? What if we received a 'Zero' for every day we missed that wasn't excused? What excuse do you think Christ would see as a valid reason for not being there?
Oh these are the questions I've struggled with over and over this week as I've thought of this young man's example. I am sure there are valid excuses. Gracious, we don't want to spread germs if we are ill. And certainly there are days when we might be called away by family duties of importance, or work (not everyone is able to skip the Sabbath day as a work day). I believe there are even times when we just need to be alone with God at home and dwell with him without the distraction of family or order of service. I think most pastors could understand that, but it certainly imparts a need to keep our word and actively seek out God doesn't it?
But what about those lame excuses we give ourselves (and don't dare mention to anyone else!) of wanting to sleep in, wanting to 'have fun for a change', etc.?
What if we stopped and asked God if our absence might be excused first? Wouldn't that be a radical thing to do? To ask God where He might want us to be?
I think this young man has given me a great deal to think about in the future when I think I don't need to be present in my congregation's service.
What about you? Will your absence be excused?
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Happy Personal New Year to Me...
I am 52 today. If you were to ask me how old I am right at this moment I'd probably tell you I feel ageless in many ways, neither old nor young. My kids tell me that physically I'd pass for 10 years younger than my age. What is my secret? Good genes help tremendously to be true, good health doesn't hurt, but I'd say at least 75% of it is good attitude. I feel at peace, happy and content.
I learned a long time ago that many people are offended by that last word, "content". They claim that anyone who is content has settled into a rut and wants nothing more. They suggest that the only ones who are content are cows in the pasture and what do they know, they are just a step away from being slaughtered. A few have even suggested that contentment is equated with boredom, nothing new ever happening, nothing ever going to change (we're back in the rut, you see).
From the limited wisdom of 52 years let me say this about feeling content: contentment comes when we are striving towards a goal we've set for ourselves; work, rest, and play in good measure; have learned and live the serenity prayer; wake each day excited to see what the day might bring even when the tasks before us are mundane; are willing to forgive others; strive every day to change and grow and gain wisdom. Contentment, in short, comes with living well.
If that sounds smug and all wise and rose colored glasses, then I do apologize. I do not mean to give an overall picture of absolute and total bliss. There are days that are very hard. Days when I am challenged to remember that serenity prayer and triply challenged to wrangle myself into submitting to it. Days when I wake up and want nothing more than to roll right back over and blot it all out. Days when I am bored beyond tears. Days when I'm so overtired from work and lack of rest and play that I can barely gather the energy to yawn. Days when I bang up against a mountain I've been marching around and around like Moses in the wilderness. Days when I have murder in my heart and dreams and loving words are likely to begin to gasp for breath for want of air.
Some days I lose sight of contentment. Yet it hasn't gone anywhere at all, I just need to wait for the fog to lift to realize that it's still there.
I celebrate a variety of New Years: the annual Roman calendar New Year; my birthday; my wedding anniversary; Yom Kippur, the Jewish New Year. All these New Years remind me to focus, just in case I haven't been lately, to check my path, to take my contentment temperature and determine if I'm where I want to be and where I might stand improvement in my life. Today's temperature read well. I've been working hard the past six months to make my days count for something. Since the Roman calendar New Year I've stayed abreast of my resolutions in most areas (one or two need a bit of wrestling...). I've been working harder at giving my writing work the attention it deserves once more. I'm more committed than ever before to proving my theory that one can live frugally and well. I'm healthy and have only very minor ailments. No great drama or stress to deal with of late. This new phase of empty nesting is beginning to wear rather well. My children are doing well. I've played and worked and rested in good measure. Contentment shines like the sun pouring into the windows of my living room at present.
It seems an auspicous way to begin another New Year doesn't it? Happy New Year to Me!
Monday, January 31, 2011
Hungering for Him
A fellow worshipper and I were talking during dinner. I was telling him about how I came to finally surrender my life to Christ. "I couldn't get enough at first. I read my Bible, I tuned into ministry programs on television and at night when that programming wasn't available, I found a radio station and I listened to sermon after sermon. At work, co-workers and I spoke of scripture we'd read that morning or sermons we'd heard the previous night and we asked one another hard questions. I spent time in chapel during my work breaks..." I described truly, a person who had been starving for something more in life and finding it, had been unable to get enough. They were sweet days.
I wish I could say that is always the case still, but truthfully there are many days when I let my life get in front of my heart needs. I skip Bible study in favor of picking up the house. I skip the televised ministry program I enjoy to run errands. At night, instead of choosing the inspirational book I'd been reading, I lose myself in a computer game.
What happens after awhile is predictable. I 'forget' more and more often to turn to the Word and instead, I turn to the distractions. I grow restless, become irritable and feel dissastisfied with life overall. Nothing seems to soothe me. The more I forget, the worse I become. I become whiny. I want something but no thing I bring into my life helps. And then one day it occurs to me that I'm hungry, I'm thirsting, I'm needing to spend time with God, needing to dwell in His Word.
Recently my husband combined two hymns in an absolutely beautiful mix for service, "Hungry" and "As A Deer". I felt it was so stunning a compilation when he played it for me. The songs just spoke to my heart in such a powerful way. I could so envision that hunger and thirst for God and I remembered the days before my salvation when I too hungered and thirsted but I didn't know what it was I needed.
What a beautiful reminder to me of that need to feast at God's table, to drink long and deeply from his presence...
Hungry I come to You
For I know You satisfy.
I am empty but I know
Your love does not run dry...
As a deer panteth after the water
So my soul longeth after Thee...
I wish I could say that is always the case still, but truthfully there are many days when I let my life get in front of my heart needs. I skip Bible study in favor of picking up the house. I skip the televised ministry program I enjoy to run errands. At night, instead of choosing the inspirational book I'd been reading, I lose myself in a computer game.
What happens after awhile is predictable. I 'forget' more and more often to turn to the Word and instead, I turn to the distractions. I grow restless, become irritable and feel dissastisfied with life overall. Nothing seems to soothe me. The more I forget, the worse I become. I become whiny. I want something but no thing I bring into my life helps. And then one day it occurs to me that I'm hungry, I'm thirsting, I'm needing to spend time with God, needing to dwell in His Word.
Recently my husband combined two hymns in an absolutely beautiful mix for service, "Hungry" and "As A Deer". I felt it was so stunning a compilation when he played it for me. The songs just spoke to my heart in such a powerful way. I could so envision that hunger and thirst for God and I remembered the days before my salvation when I too hungered and thirsted but I didn't know what it was I needed.
What a beautiful reminder to me of that need to feast at God's table, to drink long and deeply from his presence...
Hungry I come to You
For I know You satisfy.
I am empty but I know
Your love does not run dry...
As a deer panteth after the water
So my soul longeth after Thee...
Saturday, January 8, 2011
You Never Cry Like A Lover Should...
If you are/were a fan of the band The Eagles you might well recognize that title. I fell in love with that song in my teens and it stuck with me though I had little knowledge of what the song truly meant then. Now, as a grown woman who has been married twice, the impact of the song is even harder. Experience brought meaning.
I am, by my own account, a fairly reserved person. I'm not lavish in touch, or words of love, or even that good at expressing myself verbally. I am more show and less tell. If I can feed you, give you a clean home, give you a warm blanket, a quiet place to rest, make you feel at home, I've shown you my love. But more than that takes a lot of effort, and feels awkward, and self-consciousness sets in and I start to do these mental acrobatics that ruin it all. Essentially I drive myself into a corner and set up barricades.
That's why I glory in writing. I can manipulate words until I hear my heart speak. And yet, to write of love, causes something inside me to freeze up and I give up in frustration.
Last year, about this time, I had a vision while in synagogue, of Christ welcoming me with a passionate kiss. I was so overwhelmed by the idea of Christ, lover of my soul, welcoming me with passion that I wept. It was the last time I cried for the sheer beauty of His love, His salvation, His mercy, His grace, His glory.
But what does that say about my relationship with Christ? How do I communicate with God? Ideally I'd do that through prayer, but I so seldom reach that point of feeling comfortable with the spoken word. And being more show than tell, I'd be able to express my love through service, but this past year, my opportunity for service has been very limited, through His own subtractions.
Today, with our synagogue in a new building, one much nearer my home, I attended service for the first time on my own. I enjoyed the service, was moved by the songs of worship. On the way home I listened to a CD we bought during the Christmas holidays by Kathy Wilson. We were blown away by her song, Mighty Rushing Breath of God. On the same album she sings of being the Bride of Christ.
I thought about how a bride greets her groom. As reserved as I am, there was a time in the early days of my marriage when I acted as any bride would. I found touching my husband irresistible. I wanted to be near him, spend time with him every chance I could. The very next song spoke of how God had knowledge of her every secret and despite this loved her fully. Her chorus ends with "I come undone." And that's when my heart broke today and I began to cry once more at the vision of Christ's passion for my soul, when I came undone thinking of all He knows of me and how He continues to love me...
I shared with ArmyChapsWife earlier this week that I want to laugh more this year. My husband is funny and witty and works hard to get me to laugh. I want to give him that laughter he so deserves. I want to laugh for God as well, but I want to do more than laugh.
I want to weep openly for love of God, I want to greet Christ passionately when I come into His presence. I want to respond as a lover to her beloved, to the One who so loved me. I want to take down the barriers that keep me from reaching out to Him and showing Him my love, that keep my heart guarded, and cry out my love. It's so little to give Him who gave all for me.
I am, by my own account, a fairly reserved person. I'm not lavish in touch, or words of love, or even that good at expressing myself verbally. I am more show and less tell. If I can feed you, give you a clean home, give you a warm blanket, a quiet place to rest, make you feel at home, I've shown you my love. But more than that takes a lot of effort, and feels awkward, and self-consciousness sets in and I start to do these mental acrobatics that ruin it all. Essentially I drive myself into a corner and set up barricades.
That's why I glory in writing. I can manipulate words until I hear my heart speak. And yet, to write of love, causes something inside me to freeze up and I give up in frustration.
Last year, about this time, I had a vision while in synagogue, of Christ welcoming me with a passionate kiss. I was so overwhelmed by the idea of Christ, lover of my soul, welcoming me with passion that I wept. It was the last time I cried for the sheer beauty of His love, His salvation, His mercy, His grace, His glory.
But what does that say about my relationship with Christ? How do I communicate with God? Ideally I'd do that through prayer, but I so seldom reach that point of feeling comfortable with the spoken word. And being more show than tell, I'd be able to express my love through service, but this past year, my opportunity for service has been very limited, through His own subtractions.
Today, with our synagogue in a new building, one much nearer my home, I attended service for the first time on my own. I enjoyed the service, was moved by the songs of worship. On the way home I listened to a CD we bought during the Christmas holidays by Kathy Wilson. We were blown away by her song, Mighty Rushing Breath of God. On the same album she sings of being the Bride of Christ.
I thought about how a bride greets her groom. As reserved as I am, there was a time in the early days of my marriage when I acted as any bride would. I found touching my husband irresistible. I wanted to be near him, spend time with him every chance I could. The very next song spoke of how God had knowledge of her every secret and despite this loved her fully. Her chorus ends with "I come undone." And that's when my heart broke today and I began to cry once more at the vision of Christ's passion for my soul, when I came undone thinking of all He knows of me and how He continues to love me...
I shared with ArmyChapsWife earlier this week that I want to laugh more this year. My husband is funny and witty and works hard to get me to laugh. I want to give him that laughter he so deserves. I want to laugh for God as well, but I want to do more than laugh.
I want to weep openly for love of God, I want to greet Christ passionately when I come into His presence. I want to respond as a lover to her beloved, to the One who so loved me. I want to take down the barriers that keep me from reaching out to Him and showing Him my love, that keep my heart guarded, and cry out my love. It's so little to give Him who gave all for me.
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Looking Ahead: New Year New Outlook
I always find myself a bit obsessed with the change of year. The ability to start afresh and renew myself is fascinating. And this year, I most certainly feel the need of a fresh start in many ways.
This year just past has really pointed out many weaknesses. I am prone to think of myself as old. Where exactly did this notion creep in? The truth is that my children tease us often about being old, but it isn't they who make me feel old. I think it's crept in in a variety of ways.
For one thing the physicality of myself has changed. I'm actually in less pain than I have been in years...but there are hitches and catches in my bone makeup now that sometimes cause me to gimp about a bit. I think this is related to the limited mobility I've had in the past twenty years. It's hard not to feel old when one walks with a limp or stiffness in a joint.
The other thing is the sheer weight of weariness that overwhelms me occasionally, though that too is vastly improved. I'm learning to take the time to rest especially when I've had a broken night of sleep.
What else makes me feel old? Words spoken over me in prayer by my husband often focuses on my occasional tiredness and pain as an 'always' thing too often...Yes, it is hard to remember how much better I am when the focus continues to be on the negative no matter how lightened I feel in that area. I'm learning as these words are spoken to say silently "Thank you God, I don't hurt so very much anymore. Thank you Lord for lifting that spirit of tiredness off me." I must learn to guard my own words and not always voice my aches and pains and tiredness.
Graying hair...More and more to cover with the Miss Clairol these days, lol. A bit of added weight which causes me to sag and bag a bit more. Seeing Granny so old...Now it may sound odd that Granny's giving way to old age has affected me so but it has. We were well matched in vitality until the past two years and seeing her grown so frail and shrinking so in size and stature has helped change my own image of myself.
My decreased level of adventurousness, the ability to see dangers where before I wouldn't have considered the 'bad' things so much (identity theft, fear of traveling alone, unwillingness to trust car away from home, etc). That makes me feel old, too.
Changing roles: I'm no longer actively parenting...and while I am not terribly bereaved over that loss, I am still trying to find my way a bit. Perhaps if the grandchildren were nearby and I had more hands on dealings with them I wouldn't feel so at odds. Youth requires a youthful heart in those nearest them...
So yesterday as I was piddling about here in the house following a Christmas holiday that hadn't at all gone as planned, just as Thanksgiving had all been blown to bits as well, lol) I was thinking about how OLD I am now and how my expectations have changed and how my outlook and focus has changed and I was feeling a bit blue, a bit depressed even. Then I was brought up short by fact. I am ONLY 51 going on 52.
I have before me 20,30, 35 or more good vital years. Heck there are more people living to ages beyond 100. Genetically speaking I've had far more relatives live into the mid to late 90's than the average. I'm not afraid of dying mind you, and certainly not of dying of old age. After all that only means that I step from this life into an eternal life, so no fear there. No, it's not fear. It's just I needed to adjust my thinking. Granny was vitally present in her own life both physically and mentally until 2 years ago. WHY am I giving up 40 years earlier?!
So what I really need is a chiropractor of the mind, someone to adjust my thinking and get all the cricks out of the processes. I can only try to do this myself as I am not really feeling the need of deep psychological help, just a bit of jolting.
To that end, this year I resolve to:
Move my body. Stretch, bend, walk with my sight set on some restoration of flexibility and suppleness. Pilates and simple exercises, nothing terribly strenuous.
Eat healthily. It may sound odd but I have a tendency to eschew fat (I blame it on the day and age I grew up in) and so I want to introduce healthy fat into my life and eliminate some of the sugar, processed food items etc. from my eating. I'd like to eat two servings raw fruit and veg daily. Get back on task with my vitamin/mineral therapy which has helped tremendously in how I feel and continue to do research and add supplements. I'm not talking diet per se, but I would like to lose 10% of my current body weight.
Be more adventuresome. Gracious goodness there's a whole world out there to see, explore, review and there's a world within reach via daily car trips. I need to stretch my adventure spirit as well as my body.
Be creative once more. All the growing up years my children distracted me from my pursuits. It wasn't unfortunate but it did make being creative a real challenge. I have the ability to create a small space all my own. I plan to renew my love of art by drawing, sewing, writing, creating. I want to have an ongoing project or six.
Learn, learn, learn. This past year I had to learn to do two or three things that really pushed me to use my head. I used to pursue an annual study of some subject or another, just for the sheer joy of learning. So why not do this once more? A new skill, a new subject, a new pursuit...
Be less rigid. Open my mind a little wider, my heart a little wider, let go of my fear of spontaneity and free myself from planning endlessly. Stretch my mind as I stretch my body. Rigidity is really a fear of sorts and I am so over fearful living.
And so, there you have it, my own desire to face the new year with a different attitude and approach to life.
This year just past has really pointed out many weaknesses. I am prone to think of myself as old. Where exactly did this notion creep in? The truth is that my children tease us often about being old, but it isn't they who make me feel old. I think it's crept in in a variety of ways.
For one thing the physicality of myself has changed. I'm actually in less pain than I have been in years...but there are hitches and catches in my bone makeup now that sometimes cause me to gimp about a bit. I think this is related to the limited mobility I've had in the past twenty years. It's hard not to feel old when one walks with a limp or stiffness in a joint.
The other thing is the sheer weight of weariness that overwhelms me occasionally, though that too is vastly improved. I'm learning to take the time to rest especially when I've had a broken night of sleep.
What else makes me feel old? Words spoken over me in prayer by my husband often focuses on my occasional tiredness and pain as an 'always' thing too often...Yes, it is hard to remember how much better I am when the focus continues to be on the negative no matter how lightened I feel in that area. I'm learning as these words are spoken to say silently "Thank you God, I don't hurt so very much anymore. Thank you Lord for lifting that spirit of tiredness off me." I must learn to guard my own words and not always voice my aches and pains and tiredness.
Graying hair...More and more to cover with the Miss Clairol these days, lol. A bit of added weight which causes me to sag and bag a bit more. Seeing Granny so old...Now it may sound odd that Granny's giving way to old age has affected me so but it has. We were well matched in vitality until the past two years and seeing her grown so frail and shrinking so in size and stature has helped change my own image of myself.
My decreased level of adventurousness, the ability to see dangers where before I wouldn't have considered the 'bad' things so much (identity theft, fear of traveling alone, unwillingness to trust car away from home, etc). That makes me feel old, too.
Changing roles: I'm no longer actively parenting...and while I am not terribly bereaved over that loss, I am still trying to find my way a bit. Perhaps if the grandchildren were nearby and I had more hands on dealings with them I wouldn't feel so at odds. Youth requires a youthful heart in those nearest them...
So yesterday as I was piddling about here in the house following a Christmas holiday that hadn't at all gone as planned, just as Thanksgiving had all been blown to bits as well, lol) I was thinking about how OLD I am now and how my expectations have changed and how my outlook and focus has changed and I was feeling a bit blue, a bit depressed even. Then I was brought up short by fact. I am ONLY 51 going on 52.
I have before me 20,30, 35 or more good vital years. Heck there are more people living to ages beyond 100. Genetically speaking I've had far more relatives live into the mid to late 90's than the average. I'm not afraid of dying mind you, and certainly not of dying of old age. After all that only means that I step from this life into an eternal life, so no fear there. No, it's not fear. It's just I needed to adjust my thinking. Granny was vitally present in her own life both physically and mentally until 2 years ago. WHY am I giving up 40 years earlier?!
So what I really need is a chiropractor of the mind, someone to adjust my thinking and get all the cricks out of the processes. I can only try to do this myself as I am not really feeling the need of deep psychological help, just a bit of jolting.
To that end, this year I resolve to:
Move my body. Stretch, bend, walk with my sight set on some restoration of flexibility and suppleness. Pilates and simple exercises, nothing terribly strenuous.
Eat healthily. It may sound odd but I have a tendency to eschew fat (I blame it on the day and age I grew up in) and so I want to introduce healthy fat into my life and eliminate some of the sugar, processed food items etc. from my eating. I'd like to eat two servings raw fruit and veg daily. Get back on task with my vitamin/mineral therapy which has helped tremendously in how I feel and continue to do research and add supplements. I'm not talking diet per se, but I would like to lose 10% of my current body weight.
Be more adventuresome. Gracious goodness there's a whole world out there to see, explore, review and there's a world within reach via daily car trips. I need to stretch my adventure spirit as well as my body.
Be creative once more. All the growing up years my children distracted me from my pursuits. It wasn't unfortunate but it did make being creative a real challenge. I have the ability to create a small space all my own. I plan to renew my love of art by drawing, sewing, writing, creating. I want to have an ongoing project or six.
Learn, learn, learn. This past year I had to learn to do two or three things that really pushed me to use my head. I used to pursue an annual study of some subject or another, just for the sheer joy of learning. So why not do this once more? A new skill, a new subject, a new pursuit...
Be less rigid. Open my mind a little wider, my heart a little wider, let go of my fear of spontaneity and free myself from planning endlessly. Stretch my mind as I stretch my body. Rigidity is really a fear of sorts and I am so over fearful living.
And so, there you have it, my own desire to face the new year with a different attitude and approach to life.
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Coming Full Circle
Several years ago, the older of my two younger brothers committed suicide. This left my family reeling. It also deeply affected the lives of a young couple who had been close friends with him. We all came together in grieving during that time and eventually my immediate family and I began to attend church with the couple in a nearby town.
One Sunday the pastor was out of town and the young man stood in for him. As he stood in the pulpit and spoke as a layman, I noticed a group of men standing behind him...Not flesh and blood but spirit men. When L. came out of the pulpit I asked him if he'd given thought to becoming a pastor himself. "Me?! Gosh no, no way!" His wife shook her head, "No, no! I'd never be married to a pastor!" I smiled and told him, "But you will become a pastor...There were men standing all around you. The anointing on your life to be a pastor is strong." Again the couple each assured me that there was no way L. would ever be a pastor.
We left the church soon after. I wasn't very committed to churches as a rule, having been deeply hurt twice by two church homes. And so time passed. Eventually I found a place where I also found the healing balm needed and a pastor who encouraged me to trust once again and join his church...but only if I promised to actively seek out a church home where I belonged. I moved my membership to a church where my husband agreed to attend if I'd go, and we stayed there five years, through 3 pastors. Eventually we left to follow a young pastor whom we'd been under as he moved.
It was an awesome time to be under his leadership. However, like well fed children we outgrew our pastor and eventually it was time to move on. Hence we became Messianic and have spent the past year in a new field, learning many things and feeling much as though there is too much to consume all at once. This week our Rabbi let us know that we'd be moving once more. We will be closer to our own home and much much closer to his own. We will again share a church building with another congregation and this time with the church where we first went as a family.
We walked into the old building today to share a service our Rabbi was giving on Hanukkah to the congregation. And there were our old friends, the young couple not so young anymore. L. is now pastor of that church. He felt led to share his church with this congregation and when Rabbi told him he had friends among the congregants he was astonished on many levels.
We reunited with them today. L. and I spent over an hour in conversation prior to service starting. His wife and I caught up afterwards. The years have passed, we've all been through many things, some wonderful and some not, but the love we've felt for one another, even through years, has not changed one bit.
And how like God to bring us full circle...
One Sunday the pastor was out of town and the young man stood in for him. As he stood in the pulpit and spoke as a layman, I noticed a group of men standing behind him...Not flesh and blood but spirit men. When L. came out of the pulpit I asked him if he'd given thought to becoming a pastor himself. "Me?! Gosh no, no way!" His wife shook her head, "No, no! I'd never be married to a pastor!" I smiled and told him, "But you will become a pastor...There were men standing all around you. The anointing on your life to be a pastor is strong." Again the couple each assured me that there was no way L. would ever be a pastor.
We left the church soon after. I wasn't very committed to churches as a rule, having been deeply hurt twice by two church homes. And so time passed. Eventually I found a place where I also found the healing balm needed and a pastor who encouraged me to trust once again and join his church...but only if I promised to actively seek out a church home where I belonged. I moved my membership to a church where my husband agreed to attend if I'd go, and we stayed there five years, through 3 pastors. Eventually we left to follow a young pastor whom we'd been under as he moved.
It was an awesome time to be under his leadership. However, like well fed children we outgrew our pastor and eventually it was time to move on. Hence we became Messianic and have spent the past year in a new field, learning many things and feeling much as though there is too much to consume all at once. This week our Rabbi let us know that we'd be moving once more. We will be closer to our own home and much much closer to his own. We will again share a church building with another congregation and this time with the church where we first went as a family.
We walked into the old building today to share a service our Rabbi was giving on Hanukkah to the congregation. And there were our old friends, the young couple not so young anymore. L. is now pastor of that church. He felt led to share his church with this congregation and when Rabbi told him he had friends among the congregants he was astonished on many levels.
We reunited with them today. L. and I spent over an hour in conversation prior to service starting. His wife and I caught up afterwards. The years have passed, we've all been through many things, some wonderful and some not, but the love we've felt for one another, even through years, has not changed one bit.
And how like God to bring us full circle...
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Identity Crisis: Growing through Subtraction
Sometimes we reach a place in our faith walk where we feel very comfortable. Self assured. Smug, perhaps. I was pretty sure I knew God intimately, but just in case, you know, for the sake of appearances, I'd pray and ask Him to let me know Him more intimately...
The last place I thought we'd end up when we left our former church was a Messianic congregation. So here I was in this tiny synagogue where sometimes four worshipped together and other times thirty showed up. Where Hebrew is a second language (even if a poorly spoken language for some). Torah, Tanakh, Festivals, Kiddush, Siddur, Seder, Pesach...Strange words, strange traditions, strange ceremonies. I stumbled and bumbled and felt pretty much at a loss.
I wanted to know God more intimately...that was my smug prayer.
God took me to a place where I have been stripped. Singing? I'd been an active part of the praise team in my former church...No place for that in this little synagogue. Then my husband was asked to become worship leader. Surely now, God meant for me to step up and join my husband? Wasn't music OUR ministry? Well....no. Although my husband initially encouraged me to join him I felt very strongly that I shouldn't do it. I just knew in my heart that God meant for my husband to do this on his own, that it wasn't my place.
I want to know you more intimately, God, I prayed. Not as smugly as before.
Granny's dementia worsened and she was no longer able to be home on her own. A refuge and a haven disappeared from my life. I thought I was grown and able to stand on my own, but perhaps I'd relied more than I realized on that companionship. There was some semblance of a real relationship until the last few months before she was confined to an assisted living center. I floundered as one of the best friends and mentors of my life looked more and more confused and grew more frail.
I want to know you more intimately, Lord....
When my youngest daughter married this year, I struggled still more. I'd lost another role. Mom was secondary to every other role, no longer a primary role in my life. Can I just say that this final leave taking blindsided me? I knew the plans were to marry and I knew when they planned to marry. It wasn't unexpected. There were three grown children who left home long before her. I knew what it was like to hav a child leave home. But my emotional reaction was not at all expected. Without someone who needed me, without someone to nurture, I felt suddenly that I'd lost too many things in the past year. As though every thing I felt most comfortable with, the most assured about, had been stripped away. By the end of August I was a sobbing mess more often than not.
Is there any need to say that for months I didn't touch my Bible? That I spent only a small amount of time in prayer each day? That I was just a little bit angry at God for taking away so very much of my life at once?
Finally in October we went away on retreat. A time for us to spend one on one time with God and ignore the world at large. It was a wonderful week. Us, food, God, ocean, sleep. Just five essentials. I spent real time in prayer and in reading the Bible and studying the Word. I began to hear from God again.
My prayer was renewed: I want to know you more intimately God.
We came home and I settled into this new life of mine, where things were continually being subtracted from me. I made up my mind I'd just settle in and wait. I'd wait and just spend time with God. I'd enjoy the less hectic life. I'd enjoy it even if it did hurt. And it hurt plenty.
Then this past week, another subtraction took place. A personal relationship that has been dicey at best at all times came to a head. It came on the heels of a period of relative ease in the relationship, lulling me into the false hope that things had changed. I felt so alone, despite my husband and children rallying around me. And even though I know that the relationship isn't over, it isn't what I thought it was either. It was a hard and heavy blow. I had to change my expectations of what the relationship could be.
I spent the past week alternately angry and mourning the loss of one more thing in my life. A little bitterness began to creep in. I spent a lot of time reading the Bible, a lot of time in prayer, a lot of time praising, because praise requires gratitude and gratitude is always a great remedy for bitterness. It's hard to be bitter over a few losses when you realize there are pages and pages of things for which to be thankful. That was my theory anyway.
Human nature being what it is, I've had to remind myself now and then that I'm not going to dwell on the loss or let the bitterness well up...And then last night as I sat here feeling I needed to write, but not knowing how to start, I suddenly realized I've been losing the parts of myself which were the strongest portions of my identity, of who I thought I was. What I'd been left with was the need to lean hard on an understanding not my own.
And then I knew very clearly that all this time, God has been giving me the time and space to know Him more intimately. Foolish woman that I am, I just hadn't begun to draw nearer to Him until the past few weeks.
Thank you God for hearing and answering my prayer and giving me time to know you more intimately.
The last place I thought we'd end up when we left our former church was a Messianic congregation. So here I was in this tiny synagogue where sometimes four worshipped together and other times thirty showed up. Where Hebrew is a second language (even if a poorly spoken language for some). Torah, Tanakh, Festivals, Kiddush, Siddur, Seder, Pesach...Strange words, strange traditions, strange ceremonies. I stumbled and bumbled and felt pretty much at a loss.
I wanted to know God more intimately...that was my smug prayer.
God took me to a place where I have been stripped. Singing? I'd been an active part of the praise team in my former church...No place for that in this little synagogue. Then my husband was asked to become worship leader. Surely now, God meant for me to step up and join my husband? Wasn't music OUR ministry? Well....no. Although my husband initially encouraged me to join him I felt very strongly that I shouldn't do it. I just knew in my heart that God meant for my husband to do this on his own, that it wasn't my place.
I want to know you more intimately, God, I prayed. Not as smugly as before.
Granny's dementia worsened and she was no longer able to be home on her own. A refuge and a haven disappeared from my life. I thought I was grown and able to stand on my own, but perhaps I'd relied more than I realized on that companionship. There was some semblance of a real relationship until the last few months before she was confined to an assisted living center. I floundered as one of the best friends and mentors of my life looked more and more confused and grew more frail.
I want to know you more intimately, Lord....
When my youngest daughter married this year, I struggled still more. I'd lost another role. Mom was secondary to every other role, no longer a primary role in my life. Can I just say that this final leave taking blindsided me? I knew the plans were to marry and I knew when they planned to marry. It wasn't unexpected. There were three grown children who left home long before her. I knew what it was like to hav a child leave home. But my emotional reaction was not at all expected. Without someone who needed me, without someone to nurture, I felt suddenly that I'd lost too many things in the past year. As though every thing I felt most comfortable with, the most assured about, had been stripped away. By the end of August I was a sobbing mess more often than not.
Is there any need to say that for months I didn't touch my Bible? That I spent only a small amount of time in prayer each day? That I was just a little bit angry at God for taking away so very much of my life at once?
Finally in October we went away on retreat. A time for us to spend one on one time with God and ignore the world at large. It was a wonderful week. Us, food, God, ocean, sleep. Just five essentials. I spent real time in prayer and in reading the Bible and studying the Word. I began to hear from God again.
My prayer was renewed: I want to know you more intimately God.
We came home and I settled into this new life of mine, where things were continually being subtracted from me. I made up my mind I'd just settle in and wait. I'd wait and just spend time with God. I'd enjoy the less hectic life. I'd enjoy it even if it did hurt. And it hurt plenty.
Then this past week, another subtraction took place. A personal relationship that has been dicey at best at all times came to a head. It came on the heels of a period of relative ease in the relationship, lulling me into the false hope that things had changed. I felt so alone, despite my husband and children rallying around me. And even though I know that the relationship isn't over, it isn't what I thought it was either. It was a hard and heavy blow. I had to change my expectations of what the relationship could be.
I spent the past week alternately angry and mourning the loss of one more thing in my life. A little bitterness began to creep in. I spent a lot of time reading the Bible, a lot of time in prayer, a lot of time praising, because praise requires gratitude and gratitude is always a great remedy for bitterness. It's hard to be bitter over a few losses when you realize there are pages and pages of things for which to be thankful. That was my theory anyway.
Human nature being what it is, I've had to remind myself now and then that I'm not going to dwell on the loss or let the bitterness well up...And then last night as I sat here feeling I needed to write, but not knowing how to start, I suddenly realized I've been losing the parts of myself which were the strongest portions of my identity, of who I thought I was. What I'd been left with was the need to lean hard on an understanding not my own.
And then I knew very clearly that all this time, God has been giving me the time and space to know Him more intimately. Foolish woman that I am, I just hadn't begun to draw nearer to Him until the past few weeks.
Thank you God for hearing and answering my prayer and giving me time to know you more intimately.
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