The "Heart-melting, Here-ness" of Hope -- Day 4 of Advent

I mentioned in a previous post that my granddaughters carry Mary and Joseph on their journey to Bethlehem (aka the living room) throughout Advent. Yesterday, the youngest granddaughter placed them on the window sill. I'm happy with her choice because windows enable those within to look out and those outside to look in. This post offers a small window view into the difficulties of thinking of God all the time, and yet also a look into the hope God provides for us.

"This conscious, incessant submission to God has proven extremely difficult, and I have surrendered for the past few days. and today and yesterday I saw evidences of the result. In a effort to be witty, I have said biting things which have hurt the feelings of others, and have been short and impatient. I tremble, for I have told at least one of these men of this experiment, and he will think this is the result. It is very dangerous to tell people, and yet, I must tell and I must start over now and succeed. This philosophy that one can begin all over instantly at any moment is proving of great help" (Laubach 19 April 1930).

How this paragraph resonates with me! I have revealed in this blog that I, too, am trying to keep Jesus ever before me in my mind, and often times, I find myself thinking (worrying!) about whether I will have anything to write! But, oh how those words: "one can begin all over instantly at any moment" fill me with hope. I can come again and again in boldness to His throne of grace, not because of anything I have done, but because of Jesus.

I also join Laubach in writing that one must reveal the struggles along with the victories; otherwise, we will paint a false picture.

"If this record of a soul struggle to find God is to be complete, it must not omit the story of difficulty and failure. I have not succeeded very well so far. This week, for example, has not been one of the finest in my life, though it has been above the average. I have to make a greater effort next week. I have undertaken something which, at my age at least, is hard, harder than I had anticipated. But I resolve not to give up the effort. Yet strain does not seem to do any good."[underlining mine]

"At this moment I feel something 'LET GO' inside and lo, GOD is here! It is a HEART-MELTING 'HERE-NESS,' a lovely whispering of father to child, and the reason I did not have it before was because I failed to let go." [underlining and caps mine]

Let go, and let God.

Psalm 31:24 -- "Be strong, and  let your heart take courage, all you who hope in the Lord." Some translations finish with "all you who wait for the Lord." Hoping, waiting, trusting, letting go to God. Our hearts can take courage because our hope for good will be fulfilled by our good and loving God. 

Today's Message Brought To You By Hope -- Advent Day 3

Today's message is brought to you by Hope. Hope is the thread running through each element even though these paragraphs (and photo) will seem like a strange collection at first.

From Frank Laubach, 18 April 1930 -- "Everywhere people are beautiful -- or at least they have a beautiful side. On the boat from Manila last week was a painted woman, alone. I spoke to her because she was lonesome. Three of the ship's officers nearby tittered as thought they thought a scandal was brewing, so I talked loud enough for them to hear. I told her I was looking for God. As naturally as a preacher she replied, 'God is everywhere around us and in us if we only open our eyes. All the world is beautiful if we have eyes to see the beauty, for the world is packed with God.' 'Thank you for that,' I said."

From Matthew 1:18-24 -- "Now the birth of Jesus Christ was as follows: After His mother Mary was betrothed to Joseph, before they came together, she was found with child of the Holy Spirit. Then Joseph her husband, being a just man, and not wanting to make her a public example, was minded to put her away secretly. But while he thought about these thing, behold, and angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream, saying, 'Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take to you Mary your wife, for that which is conceived in her is of the Holy Spirit. and she will bring forth a Son, and you shall call His name JESUS, for He will save His people from their sins.'

"So this was done that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by the Lord through the prophet, saying: 'Behold, the virgin shall be with child, and bear a Son, and they shall call His name Immanuel,' which is translated, 'God with us.'

"Then Joseph, being aroused from sleep, did as the angel of the Lord commanded him and took to him his wife, and did not know her till she had brought forth her firstborn Son. And he called His name JESUS."

From Luke 6:35-36 -- "But love your enemies, do good, and lend, hoping for nothing in return; and your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High. For He is kind to the unthankful and evil. Therefore be merciful, just as your Father also is merciful." 

I mentioned in my last post that our nativity set stays up year round in a back bedroom. On the first day of Advent, the stable is moved to the fireplace mantle, the shepherds are set up on green grass (a green placemat :D) on the piano, the kings stay where they are until Epiphany, and Mary and Joseph start their journey to Bethlehem (aka out of the bedroom, down the hallway, to the front of the house). The granddaughters move them each time they are over. This year the oldest granddaughter looked for a different first spot: nestled among the books on the shelf. Mary is kneeling, a position we can not change since this little plastic figurine kneels while in the stable with her Son; still, Joseph looks protective. The verse that popped into my mind was the one where God places Moses in the cleft of the rock so that Moses can live when God's glory shines forth. The Lord does pass before Moses and He reveals Himself as "The LORD, the LORD God, merciful, gracious, longsuffering, abounding in goodness and truth, forgiving of iniquity, transgression, and sin..." (Exodus 33:18-34:9).

Hope -- Joseph places his hope in God and believes Mary carries Immanuel within her. Laubach has such a hope in his God as Savior that he is able to see the painted woman as a potential carrier of Christ within. No, Mary and the painted woman are not the same, but certainly the townspeople would have been thinking such thoughts about Mary had not Joseph chosen to trust, hope, and believe. Mary literally, physically carried Jesus, but the painted woman is a human being made in the image of God, possibly a future sister-in-Christ which would make her a woman in whom Christ dwells.

Hoping for something in return, hoping for what we want, hoping for fame and fortune, hoping for power and praise -- these hopes are tenuous at best. The only sure hope we have is in Jesus. And, that hope, causes me to walk out the door, into the world, with great joy, ready to see Jesus and beauty all around me.

Constant Comparisons and Cutthroat Competition Crushes Compassion

My last post left me unsatisfied. Fasting from "snipping" or "giving my opinion"isn't a bad idea. I love how Catherine Marshall wrote about her day of fasting from giving her opinion--she didn't know how 24 hours of holding her tongue could be so hard! Nonetheless, I think I want to dig deeper. I started listing reasons I would have for responding like the women did to the mother of a two-year-old.

1) I truly think the mother of the teenagers was trying to be loving and kind. I imagine her hope was that moms of little ones may have it tough now, but maybe that means their tough days will be during the years when you can still pick the children up, hug them, and put them to bed.

2) Hopefully, the mother of teenagers was not saying, "You may think it's rough now, but, boy oh boy, wait until they hit the teenage years!" I am fairly sure that something similar has passed through my lips. Now, as I look at a statement like that, I am really competing for whose life is the most challenging. I would like to give myself the benefit of the doubt and say I am commiserating with the moms of young children. Essentially I am trying to say that I understand their pain because I am in pain, too. It is obvious from the harsh responses of the moms of babies that they were not comforted. I need to learn from their responses because I want to be a person whose words bring love and light, not cause harm.

How often I play the comparison game or the competition game. Why? Sometimes I use my challenges because I feel I am being pushed to do something I just can not or do not want to do. Instead of looking to Jesus for direction in my life and simply letting my "yes" be "yes" and my "no" be "no," I compete for whose life is busiest.

Or, I compare my life with someone else's and I look for all the reasons I fall short when I need to listen to the Holy Spirit, who does not use words such as, "Girl, you just fell short. What's wrong with you anyway?" In defensive mode, I spell out how challenging my life is, which it very probably is, because life is tough, but this means the other person is going through tough times as well. I can turn to Jesus to speak words of love and compassion.

I love how Frank Laubach writes in his letter (9 March 1930): "...His question is, 'How far will this man and that woman allow me to carry this hour?'" 

"But how 'practical' is this for the average man? It seems to me now that yonder plowman could be like Calixto Sanidad, when he was a lonesome and mistreated plowboy, 'with my eyes on the furrow, and my hands on the lines, but my thoughts on God.' The carpenter could be as full of God as was Christ when he drove nails...Some hour spent by some night watchman might be the most glorious ever lived on earth. God is not through yet. He is breaking through.."

Wherever I am at: as the pregnant mom with 3 children at home whose "water" broke at the same time that the toilet overflowed (yes, it really did happen), as the mom of 4 teenagers pushing the boundaries while the husband is working overtime hours, as the woman who loses her job and her community when a new boss streamlines the company, in all these my eyes can be on Jesus who keeps me in His peace and His grace as I turn to Him moment by moment. And, when I forget, He lovingly calls me back.

The photo in this post was taken many years ago when my boys were young and decided to change pajamas with one another. I find that I often try to "change clothes with someone else." Not physically of course, but I compare my life to someone else's. I look at their "outsides" and think if they had my life, then...

I put "my clothes" onto them.

Or, I think if I had their lives -- I put on "their clothes" -- then...

Somehow I miss the fact that I end up looking like my boys do in this picture.

I have no need to compete; I have no need to compare. I am His Beloved. He calls me by name; I am His. My identity is in Him. He sustains me as I practice slowing my mind down long enough to hear Him speak so lovingly to me. Often that means not rushing my steps, not rushing my hands, not rushing my words -- that conscious practice of slowing down when it is possible makes it easier to hear His voice when life seems impossible...or when a compassionate word is needed.  

Who Has the Greatest Challenge?

A couple of days ago, I read a touching blog by a mother who wrote well on how difficult life is with a baby. Her desire was to let others know that she understood. Moms of young children do not need to suffer alone in their pain. It was meant to be comforting. The comments, however, that followed looked like a new version of the mommy wars -- this time not between working moms and stay-at-home moms, but between moms whose challenges were during the first two years, moms whose challenges were during the teenage years, and moms whose challenges were in between.

As you look at this picture of my father with three of my four children, notice these things: the mess (I tried to cut out as much as I could), the undecorated walls (not my gift), my son's wild hair, and the oldest son (yes, you're right; he is not even in the picture). If you think I am now going to tell you that this, this, is truly the most challenging season, you're wrong. "Each day has enough problems of its own." Oh yeah. Notice how three days ago, I said I was going to post everyday? Two days in a row. That's as far as I went this time around. Skipped yesterday. We're trying again today.

There are enough sorrows to go around in the world without snipping at one another. Frank Laubach starts his March 9th entry with these words: For the first time in my life I know what I must do off in lonesome Lanao. I know why God left this aching void, for Himself to fill." [underlining mine]

What doesn't show in his book of Letters is that Laubach suffered many depressing days. He was lonesome. He ached. No matter whether one is a mom of young babies or a dad of teenagers, whether one is 21, 35, 42, 56, you name the age and the condition: each day has enough problems of its own. There are seasons of joy and seasons of struggles and pain. Let's pursue peace and grace in Christ Jesus. And, the first small step we can take is to fast from snipping at one another. 

Embracing Change

I have decided to embrace change. It is going to happen anyway, as surely as the shoreline changes from sand being swept away and deposited elsewhere. I am slow to change when it comes to technology: this blog, for instance: I still have not figured out how to do everything. Much like my spiritual transformation. I seem to be s-l-o-w at changing. Nonetheless, I can write as Laubach wrote on March 1, 1930:

The sense of being led by an unseen hand which takes mine while another hand reaches ahead and prepares the way, grows upon me daily. I do not need to strain at all to find opportunity. It piles in upon me as the waves roll over the beach, and yet there is time to do something about each opportunity. 

I must disagree with one part of this letter. "I compel my mind to open straight out toward God. I wait and listen with determined sensitiveness. I fix my attention there, and sometimes it requires a long time early in the morning to attain that mental state. I determine not to get out of bed until that mind set, that concentration upon God, is settled." 

Not going to happen. How many of you are saying as I am, "He has no babies there" or "I wish." No, I am not going to be able to stay in bed; however, each morning, I can greet God. I can hold out my open hands to Him. I can surrender (or at least be willing to be made willing to surrender) my pre-conceived expectations of how this day must go according to the Book of ME. I can look joyfully for Him to live and move and have His being in me, in whatever circumstances the day holds. 

I have seen the following, in just two days of getting back into talking (and hopefully, listening!) continually to God: "Obstacles which I once would have regarded as insurmountable are melting away like a mirage. People are becoming friendly who suspected or neglected me. I feel, I feel like one who has had his violin out of tune with the orchestra and at last is in harmony with the music of the universe."

Laubach goes on to write: "...I would find God's will and I would do that will though every fiber in me said no, and I would win the battle in my thoughts." I have discovered two things about winning over the will. 1) I have to get rid of the idea that God's will is always about sending me to the farthest point on earth. It could be that, but I think day-to-day, God's will is for me to love Him, to trust Him, to ask Him to help me be loving and kind and gentle. To not be angry, to not insist on my own way. 2) I can start in small steps, the steps that I find easier so that being loving and kind simply becomes part of who I am, my character. This week I have learned to look at my eyes and eyebrows in the mirror and really notice what it feels like when I am judging or angry. I can give my eyes and eyebrows to God so that when family gathers for the holidays (as many will do next week and in the coming month), I will have taught my face and my heart/will/spirit to follow after Jesus and not give in to a critical look, a judging eyebrow, a harsh twist of the lips.

I love this photo. So difficult to catch everyone happy at the same time. But, we can be the ones who bring peace and light and love. It has been two years since this picture was taken. That was the last time we were all in one place. It is difficult to get everyone together when children are grown. Changes. I have learned to cherish times of gathering.  

Where Did My Year Go?

Did you start anything in January and here it is the end of the year, and you didn't get very far with your plans? I know the feeling. Obviously this photo is not a January photo. It's November and almost 10 months have gone by since my last post. Change. Make that plural: Changes. Too many. I like change that means "Hello." But, too many changes this year have involved "Goodbye." My one constant has been God, and He never leaves me nor forsakes me. AND, He constantly lets me have do-overs. Encourages them, in fact. So, as I have written here in this blog often: I begin again. I am also encouraged to know that Frank Laubach, whose letters I have been trying to follow in this blog, had huge gaps in his writing -- his 36 letters stretch between January 1930 and January 1932. I have 33 left, and there happen to be 33 days until Christmas. Yes, I am going to try to write one a day during this Advent season.

I feel simply carried along each hour, doing my part in a plan which is far beyond myself. This sense of cooperation with God in little things is what so astonishes me, for I never have felt it this way before. I need something, and turn around to find it waiting for me. I must work, to be sure, but there is God working along with me. (Laubach)

What I love about Laubach's "plan" to be with God is that it simply involves talking with God doing whatever I am doing: washing dishes, tutoring, playing with grandchildren...

After a rather depressing yesterday, I woke up this morning ready to tackle this blog again. I went to go look up the password which I had written down in Oswald Chambers' book My Utmost for His Highest. This thought came to mind: Check out November 22. I needed something, and turned around "to find it waiting for me."

Beware of allowing yourself to think that the shallow concerns of life are not ordained of God; they are as much of God as the profound...To be shallow is not a sign of being wicked, nor is shallowness a sign that there are no deeps: the ocean has a shore. The shallow amenities of life, eating and drinking walking and talking, are all ordained by God. These are the things in which Our Lord lived. He lived them as the Son of God, and He said that "the disciple is not above his Master." (Chambers)

I desire to remember Laubach's closing words on this day: "My part is to live this hour in continuous inner conversation with God and in perfect responsiveness to His will, to make this hour gloriously rich." In eating, drinking, walking, talking, playing, praying, loving, following Jesus.

26 January 1930

Already...already I have not fulfilled my resolution to post about God's minute by minute presence on the same day as Frank Laubach did in 1930. This should have been posted on January 26 and here it is the 30th already. However, Laubach's 1/26 entry  includes this comment: "I am feeling God in each movement, by an act of will -- willing that He shall direct these fingers that now strike this typewriter -- willing that He shall pour through my steps as I walk -- willing that He shall direct my words as I speak, and my very jaws as I eat!" Therefore, following God's directions moment by moment is more important that deciding that I should match up my days of writing with Laubach's.

Oh, if only I had had such a high and lofty reason for not writing. I confess on the 26th, I was just trying to get through the day with two grandchildren, one sick husband, a visiting daughter, and her two guests, all staying in my house that is under renovation due to broken water pipes. You will want to give me the benefit of the doubt, yes? You will hope that throughout that day I practiced the words of Laubach's boyhood hymn:

     Moment by moment, I'm kept in His love;
     Moment by moment, I've life from above;
     Looking to Jesus till glory doth shine;
     Moment by moment, O Lord, I am Thine.

Well, yes, but it wasn't anything conscious on my part. I was kept in His love; I did have life from above, I am His: I just can't say that I consciously looked to Jesus moment by moment.

Yet, I sense something in this second (third? fourth?) reading of this entry -- God highlighting Laubach's two burning passions and particularly the second passion: "to respond to God as a violin responds to the bow of the master." Violins do not think, "Oh, now, see how the master is drawing the letter C across my strings; now he is plucking me so I must make this sound." No, the violin responds the way it was always meant to respond to a Master Musician because of the hands of a Master Craftsman. My analogy of course breaks down because we are indeed created to think and give glory to Him. Still, I am discovering days when His presence is so all-encompassing that we have no need of words. I look back and find that I have responded to His presence in a way that pleases Him (no, not 24/7, but the signs of His presence in my life, the signs of His mind within me, the signs of His living and breathing in me, are there). And, I hang onto the hope that He who started a good work will indeed bring it to completion.