Category Archives: Faith

Maybe This Will Help

Sometimes life piles on. You get one bit of bad news after the other, you find yourself responding to yet another crisis, or you’re dealing with the fortieth difficult personality of the week. Before you know it, you feel like a random spark is going to set the whole pyre ablaze and take you with it.

And then you turn on the news.

Whose idea was this 24-hour news cycle anyway? It just means we keep hearing the same negative developments, the worst of the political rancor, and the most shocking accounts of human depravity … every 15-30 minutes. The mere repetition of the reports makes it feel like things are even worse than they are. And with few exceptions, there’s very little you or I can do about any of it by following it in the media except get agitated, outraged, and even fearful. If I’ve had too much coffee, it can get really exhausting.

Honestly, I could do with a little less of that. So here’s what I’m planning to do: Continue reading Maybe This Will Help

I’m crossing some things off my list this year

A couple of years ago, I jumped on the “resolution revolution” bandwagon and joined an initiative called OneWord365. The idea was that instead of making New Year’s resolutions (which never worked for me), participants would choose a single word to focus on for the entire year, a word that would sum up “who you want to be or how you want to live”. That year, I decided on the word “harmony”.

I had chosen it prayerfully, knowing that being mindful of this word could change the soundtrack of my life if I let it. I began to “take a beat” before I reacted to things, and ask myself, “Do I know this to be true?” And further,  “Is my response in this situation going to create harmony or jeopardize it?” This practice became reflexive over time and helpful in a variety of ways.

I’m back on the bandwagon this year, and I’ve chosen a word (again, prayerfully) that seems to particularly resonate at this point in my life.

My word for 2017 is “Release”.

If you know me, you know that I’m something of a perfectionist. (Okay, maybe a lot of a perfectionist.) And the truth is, being a perfectionist – though it might sound desirable – can actually hamstring my effectiveness in both my professional and personal life. I would argue it’s a cowardly way to be and I need to knock it off. That means I need to do more than just loosen my grip; I need to drop the reins entirely and get off the dang horse, handing over control to God.

The first step to doing this, I’ve concluded, is for me to identify the root of this need for control. What makes me want to take over and do everything in my power to manage outcomes . . . or wring my hands with worry when I can’t? Why do I hold myself to an impossibly high and thoroughly unhelpful standard?

To be fair, I think we all do this, at least to some extent. We hedge our bets, we try not to care too much, we hide, we pretend we’ve got it together, and some of us become perfectionists as “insurance” against failure. And still, we fail. So why do we do that?

Once I figure out my underlying motivation, I believe I’ll be headed in the right direction.

Now before you give me “that look” because you’re skeptical that I can change this tendency of mine at this late date, let me add this. I still intend to do what I do with excellence, because that honors God. But I’m going to make it a priority not to try and micromanage my life, because that’s a losing proposition (and frankly, exhausting). And honestly? I have a habit of letting things go and then taking them back, so I’m going to need God’s help if there’s to be lasting change.

So here I go. Already I’m starting to get some clarity on this just by landing on the word and I intend to probe it with intentionality in the coming months. I’m excited to see what God puts His finger on for me to release this year.

Maybe the process will help you, too.

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I learned a new word

When you think of the Puritans, do you envision a group that had it together, faith-wise? Super pious and dialed-in to God in a way the rest of us could only imagine? Speaking in “thees” and “thous” like old English poets or certain translations of inspired scripture? I do. Or at least I did.

I have a book of Puritan prayers, a Christmas gift from a dear friend a few years back. I regularly pick it up to ponder the eloquent way they expressed their deep and authentic relationship with God back then. I want to be inspired in my own prayer life and this helps.

Interestingly, I’ve found from these prayers that the Puritan “saints” wrestled with doubts, temptations, and failures just like the rest of us. Fortunately, many of them journaled their meditations and contemplations, not for publication but for the exercise and deepening of their personal faith. Their writings provide the source material for the book . . .  and some enduring lessons for me.

Recently I read a selection titled “Weaknesses” and learned a new word: carking. I can honestly say I had never heard this term before but in context it makes perfect sense. Continue reading I learned a new word

I’ll take the red carnation, thank you – revisiting an odd tradition

This post was originally published for Mother’s Day 2014. It is as relevant now as it ever was, so I am reposting it this year in honor of my sweet Mama. To those of you who never knew her, you missed a real lady.   

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red-Carnations38Recently, I was handed a red carnation as an acknowledgement of my participation in a community event. Looking at it, I was reminded of a tradition in many churches when I was growing up.

On Mother’s Day, at least in the South, when you went to church you wore a carnation on your lapel or dress – a red one if your mother was alive, a white one if she had died. (Do you remember this?) Continue reading I’ll take the red carnation, thank you – revisiting an odd tradition

The surprising thing about “weakness”

IMG_9610.PNGWho among us hasn’t wondered about the role of prayer in the overall scheme of things? Almost no one turns down an offer of prayer in a crisis, but why do we pray when God already knows what He’s going to do? Can we change His mind? What’s different about prayers offered silently and in private, versus praying aloud with others?

For all these questions about prayer there are surely an equal number of deep theological responses (which I for sure don’t have). But I find there’s beauty in wrestling with our uncertainty and lovely things to discover about our God as we communicate with Him.

Here’s an example from just this week: Continue reading The surprising thing about “weakness”

The simple song lyric that undid me

A friend of mine is fond of muttering, “Hell in a handbasket, my dear. Hell in a handbasket.” This is usually in response to:

  • yet another crass reality TV show in the lineup,
  • an encounter with a rude or texting driver,
  • sloppy workmanship in an already overpriced product,

. . . or any of a number of other “proofs” that society is unraveling at a meteoric rate.

It’s become so common, we’ve adopted a kind of shorthand between us. My friend now just looks at me and says, “Handbasket!” Enough said.

It’s easy to default to negative thinking these days, though, isn’t it? You look around at the alarming lack of civility among so-called leaders;  the deep divides along racial, religious, and socioeconomic lines; the creeping fear of violence and danger at every turn . . . and you can start to despair.

If you’re like me, sometimes you’re tempted to turn off the news, gather your loved ones, and just hide,  if only that would help. 

“Handbasket!” Right?

IMG_9488But this past Sunday, a single line in a song at church opened my eyes to a really important truth. We were singing “Strong God”* (listen to it here) and there’s a line that says, “This is God in His holy place.”
Just that one lyric was all it took to pierce my heart and change my perspective.

Continue reading The simple song lyric that undid me

No need for a bucket

I was getting out of my car recently and happened to glance down at the hardy succulents lining my driveway. It was mid-March and they had already started pushing up through the hard ground. These guys come back early every spring, no matter what this harsh Midwest climate throws at them in the winter and regardless of how I ignore them in the heat of the summer.

I think one of the reasons they are so cold-tolerant and drought-resistant is the way they’re designed. Look closely:

IMG_9375The leaves open upward and overlap each other, forming a cup-like shape. Do you see the droplets of water that have been caught within them? From there the moisture  slowly seeps down into the heart of the plant where it will be stored until it’s needed in the dry season ahead.

I’m reminded that we, too, can catch water in cupped hands. We fit our palms and fingers together like this tiny succulent and hold them under a faucet or scoop them down into a creek. Most of us learned this as children,  when it was a form of play. Unlike the plant, for us it’s just a temporary measure, but in a pinch you can sure grab a little and maybe slurp it or splash it, just like when you were a kid.

Cupped hands, like cupped leaves, seem to me a metaphor for prayer.

I see in them a picture of emptiness that needs to be filled, a gesture of acknowledging the Source. As the plant reaches up to absorb the moisture it needs, we offer up our empty hands asking — maybe begging — for what sustains us, too.

God designed these humble plants perfectly to collect what they need to survive; He knows what the seasons will bring. And He does the same for us.

He invites us to come to Him any time — all the time — confessing our emptiness, acknowledging that He is the One who nourishes, anticipating an outpouring of His generosity.  We don’t need a bucket, just humble hands cupped in prayer.

And He delights to respond with a love that overflows, a love that is unending and always available for the asking .

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Sometimes Angels Have Whiskers

FullSizeRender-1I couldn’t help but notice the ancient rat terrier sitting next to the wheelchair-bound man in the parkway. Both were fixated on the tree service workers trimming the gangly branches of a giant maple in the front yard just across the street. The terrier quickly shifted its attention to me as I approached.

Dogs. They’re such icebreakers.

I asked the gentleman if I could pet his dog and he said of course. A half-hour later, Bill and TK were my new friends.

TK, I learned, was short for “Tiny King”. Clearly, he was quite something in his day but he’s 16 now and well, not the ball of energy he once was. (I understand, TK.) Gray face, cloudy eyes, but still sporting an “I’ve got this” attitude; he was a typical terrier, oblivious to his limitations. He reminded me of my funny Jack Russell, Smudge, who died this year at 18. We used to call her a “little thug in a clown suit”.

TK had stopped me in my tracks, but it was Bill’s story that broke my heart. Continue reading Sometimes Angels Have Whiskers

What does this look like to you?

“You need to tell your followers to knock that loud worship off. They’re making a scene.” 

In their arrogance, the religious elite actually said something just like  that to Jesus . . . and His response was beautiful:

“I tell you, if these were silent, the very stones would cry out.” 

hills-mountains-nature-685-621x350Imagine! If we as human beings never again expressed worship to Christ, nature would do it for us. One look at the Grand Canyon (or the tulips this time of year in the Midwest) would convince you of that. He is always worthy of adoration and if we don’t do it, the trees and oceans (and rocks) will.

Reveling in the beauty of creation as God’s handiwork for sure looks like worship.

I have a friend who, though not a “religious person”, thrills to the beauty of sacred music and loves to sing as part of a traditional choir. To her, the blend of the different voices enriches the sound and creates its own beauty.

If you ask her, she would tell you music is itself a form of worship. Who could disagree with that?

It’s natural to be moved to praise God as you walk through a park on a beautiful day or when you’re surrounded by others holding hymnals or following lyrics on a screen. Lately, though, I’ve been thinking about how worship is expressed in the hard things.

Do pain, suffering, and tears look like worship opportunities to you? Cause for begging, pleading, groveling prayers, maybe . . . but worship? Continue reading What does this look like to you?

But only if you don’t hold hands

filename-1Funny, the things you remember. When my younger sister and I were really little – I’m talking maybe 4 and 5 years old – we went to the nursery at the seminary where my parents were both students. We didn’t know anyone, of course, and we were scared, so we clung tightly to each other after our parents dropped us off.

The large room was divided into two, with a low partition between the sides. One area was for the younger children; there were the usual coloring books and stuffed animals and puzzles with giant pieces.  On the other side of the room was the area for the older kids. I’m sure there were lots of toys there, too, but all I remember is the blocks. There were dozens of wooden blocks in every size and there were even those sturdy cardboard ones painted to look like bricks.

Oh, how I wanted to play with those blocks, but it would mean being separated from my little sister, since she belonged on the other side of the room. I was torn between my protectiveness of her and my desire to build a “house” out of cardboard bricks. It was agony for a little kid.

One of the teachers, apparently sensing my dilemma, offered that we could both stay on the big kid side, but “only if you don’t hold hands”.

Continue reading But only if you don’t hold hands