Where Are You? -- Day 14 of Advent

Poor Mary and Joseph. Much of the gain they had made was taken away when the youngest granddaughter came over and moved them back to the Little People house. It took me awhile to find them. "KK," I said, "Where are Mary and Joseph?"

I didn't know this was what I was going to write about today. I had actually planned two days ago on going a different direction, but then Mary and Joseph got lost, and suddenly I find myself writing about "Where are you; where am I, this Advent season?" I was very tempted to add in a joke about not asking directions, but I won't go there.  We all get lost or decide to return to the familiar in our journeys toward the unknown.  

And, God, ever so gracious, comes seeking us. Today, I want to treat you to the words of two of my favorite authors. The first, Trevor Hudson and the second, Frank Laubach.

"The other day I listened to someone tell the story of his spiritual journey. He described how, after years of searching in different directions, he had eventually found God. I had mixed feelings about his use of the phrase 'found God.' On the one hand, there is a certain truth to this. We do search for God. On the other hand, we are also the ones who hide away. Nonetheless God is always trying to find us. This is the good news of the creation story. When we hide from God, God comes seeking, calling out to each one of us, 'Where are you?'

"This question leads us deeply into the searching heart of God. It reminds us that God always pursues us in love. Nothing can ever extinguish the flame in God's heart that burns to be in personal relationship with us. Even when we mess up and get terribly lost. When God asks us where we are, it is as if God is saying to you and me, 'Where are you? I am missing you. My heart aches for you. I want to reconnect intimately with you. I grieve over the distance between us. I long for your companionship, and I will search for you until I find you'" (Questions God Asks Us).

Almost 80 years prior to Hudson writing, Frank Laubach wrote: "I walk out in the street full of Moros, and if my soul is as full of God as it sometimes is, I see what happens as I look into their eyes and pray for them. No man need try to persuade me that God does not reach them, for I see the thing happen, and now I know that every person we ever meet is God's opportunity if only, if only we were not so much of the time shut off from God.

"Last Monday was the most completely successful day of my life to date so far as giving my day in complete surrender to God is concerned -- though I shall hope for far better days -- and I remember how as I looked at people with a love God gave, they looked back and acted as though they wanted to go with me. I felt then that for a day I saw a little of that marvelous pull that Jesus had as He walked along the road day after day, 'God-intoxicated' and radiant with the endless communion of His soul with God'"(15 June 1930).

When God asks me, "Where are you?" oh, that I may reply, whether I am waiting or traveling, "Here, Lord! Right here, clinging to You!" And, may I, as I cling to Him,  look with His same love at everyone else with me on this journey called life.

* artwork from beliefnet.com

Waiting with Joy? Excuse Me? -- Day 13 of Advent

Waiting…waiting…waiting…I. am. waiting. for. this. week. to. end! Writing a blog daily poses a couple of problems for me. My standard mode of operation includes procrastination which I have been unable to practice. My other problem is "Waiting." I am running out of words to write about waiting. I'm ready to move on to JOY.

What? Did I just hear one of you say there can be joy in waiting? No, we can't have joy. I can have peace, and faith, and hope, but no joy. That can only happen next week with the Shepherd's candle. Thank you very much.

I woke up this morning remembering that the little boy in this picture is now my grown up thirty-five year old son. The thirty years seem like a mere inhale and exhale. Yes, those thirty years included sorrow and sadness, but from my vantage point now, how I wish I had not, well, wished those days to move faster. Or, perhaps I should write, how I wished I had searched for and clung to every bit of joy that was there, sometimes hidden like a jewel, sometimes right out in the open, but my focus was too much on how I was barely hanging on.

Twelve more days until Christmas and the only sign of Christmas in my house is the empty stable on the fireplace (a fireplace that appears to be having structural issues), the shepherd watching his sheep on the piano, and Mary and Joseph on the move -- here clinging to the ledge of a bed foot board. Obviously, this Mary and Joseph are going to need a little help getting down. Me, too. When I'm out on a ledge waiting, I need a little help, too. I find it by waiting with the Psalms. I started to go right to Psalm 16 (one of my favorites) but my eye was drawn to Psalm 17 this morning: "I will call upon you, for you will answer me, O God; incline your ear to me, hear my words. Wondrously show your steadfast love, O savior of those who seek refuge from their adversaries at your right hand. Guard me as the apple of the eye; hide me in the shadow of your wings…As for me I shall behold your face in righteousness; when I awake I shall be satisfied, beholding your likeness" (6-8,15).

As I wrote those verses two songs built around that psalm came to mind, and I think of how music has played a part in bringing me joy in the waiting. And, when I ponder further, don't we play Christmas music throughout the month of December to help with the waiting for Christmas Day?

Yes, joy is available for me in the waiting: if I will look for it; if I will remember that time passes so quickly. What seems like waiting, waiting, waiting, will be gone quickly, and I don't want to miss one moment of joy or one moment of seeking refuge in God and waking in the morning beholding His likeness.

Now, my granddaughter has arrived, and I am going to go play! 

Pregnant With..... -- Day 12 of Advent

Two days ago I wrote of Mary's difficulties. Today, I write of her ease. Her ease in keeping her mind on Jesus. She was pregnant with Jesus. She physically carried him inside of her for nine months. To be pregnant is to be filled. Pregnant with desire is full of desire; pregnant with hope, full of hope. Pregnant pauses are full of meaning; they're significant. An historically pregnant time is of great importance or meaning. And, a pregnant decision produces results; it's fruitful. Being pregnant, how could Mary not keep her mind on Jesus?

In 1930, Frank Laubach wrote of his plan to keep his mind on Jesus. On June 3, he starts his letter in the following way: "This experiment which I am trying is the most strenuous discipline which any man ever attempted. I am not succeeding in keeping God in my mind very many hours of the day, and from the point of view of experiment number one, I should have to record a pretty high percentage of failure. But the other experiment -- what happens when I do succeed-- is so successful that it makes up for the failure of number one. God does work a change."

At the beginning of one's pregnancy, one hardly notices a change...until the morning sickness hits. Some few lucky ones never have the morning (or evening) trips to the bathroom to vomit out every bit of food they just managed to eat. Others experience such trips every waking moment of the day. It is not hard to keep one's mind on what is growing inside, but it may not be that heavenly moment of which others have spoken. Usually within that next month, the baby's movements can be felt -- just a little flutter here, then there. So amazing to think of this little one growing inside.

I could hardly wait with each of my children to feel those first movements, and to constantly be aware of their presence.

Then, as the last three months of pregnancy are entered, the baby grows so big that his presence can not be ignored by Mary. Nine months of waiting and being ever mindful of Jesus growing inside. Nine months filled with choices ("Be it unto me"; What will Joseph do?), a journey to Bethlehem, and then, birth in a rough-hewn shelter for animals. Mary does not have an easy life, but she has this constant awareness of Immanuel, God with her.

Laubach writes: "'Can it [keeping one's mind on Jesus] be done all the time?' Hardly. 'Does the effort [keeping aware] help?' Tremendously. Nothing I have ever found proves such a tonic to mind and body....The most important discovery of my whole life is that one can take a little rough cabin and transform it into a palace just by flooding it with thoughts of God." 

A place for animals in a little place like Bethlehem becomes a palace when Jesus is in it.
"But you Bethlehem Ephrathah, though you are little among the thousands of Judah, Yet out of you shall come forth to Me the One to be Ruler in Israel, Whose goings forth are from of old, from everlasting"  (Micah 5:2 which was repeated to Herod when Herod sought Jesus so he could kill this new "ruler" -- Matthew 2:3-6).

My place, my condition, my circumstances become pregnant with significance and meaning when I wait and look for the appearance of Jesus in my life every moment of the day.

* The art in today's blog comes from the hands of Jason Jenicke, Sandro Botticelli, and Sassoferrato. 

Expectantly Waiting Gone Wrong -- Day 11 of Advent

I have a naughty child story. Unfortunately, I was the naughty child. One birthday I asked for electric curlers (this was before electric curling irons were commonly used). I waited for my birthday to arrive, and I expected to get an electric curling set. About a week before my birthday, I announced to my parents that the curlers HAD to be electric steam curlers or I did not want them. AT ALL. My thoughtless self did not stop to think that perhaps my parents had already bought the gift, which they had. And, they were not steam curlers. My birthday arrived, and I saw my gift. In that moment, I realized how much pain I had given my parents. They wanted to bless me, and I had destroyed that blessing by insisting that I wanted what I wanted and nothing else would do. I tried to make up for my inconsiderate ways by thanking them over and over for the non-steam rollers, but I had already ruined it for them -- their downcast eyes showed me that they knew their best was not good enough for me. In the days prior to my birthday, I had clearly and loudly stated all the flaws in any other type of roller.

Maybe we need words like faith, love, and peace to surround "expectantly waiting." There is a type of waiting that blesses and a type that does not. Maybe it depends on the 5 Ws and 1 H: Who, when, where, what, why, and how.

How are we waiting? Many years after my childish incident, I was called upon to wait, and not just wait, but to wait confidently. I had been maliciously slandered and God clearly told me how to wait when, at the precise moment I needed it, my daily Bible reading was in Isaiah 30. Verses 15-16 tell how the Israelites could have chosen to wait on God, but they did not do so --

"In returning and rest you shall be saved; In quietness and confidence shall be your strength." 
But you would not, And you said, 'No, for we will flee on horses' -- 
Therefore, you shall flee! And, 'We will ride on swift horses' -- 
Therefore those who pursue you shall be swift!

On the other hand, verse 18 tells how God waits for us:

"Therefore the LORD will wait, that He may be gracious to you; 
And therefore He will be exalted, that He may have mercy on you. 
For the LORD is a God of justice; Blessed are all those who wait for Him." 

God told me to "Wait confidently." And, of course, I said, "Behold the maidservant of the Lord! Let it be to me according to your word." Sigh. No. I said, "Wait confidently, Lord?! It's hard enough to wait, let alone confidently!...." Then, "Nonetheless, not my will be done, but yours"...well, sort of... I said, "Okay." Several months later, I received apologies and commendations. What I gained most of all was an enlarged view of the God I serve and what He can do through me if I let Him. Just this morning I read this in 2 Peter 3:9 -- "The Lord is not slow about his promise as some think of slowness, but is patient with you, not wanting any to perish, but all to come to repentance."

In Advent, I'm preparing, but I am preparing for a remembrance and a celebration. Immanuel, God with us, Jesus, is here. I enter into His life each day as I journey through life's trials and tribulations with patience, just as Joseph and Mary did, knowing that in the kingdom of God we are safe. If a door closes behind us, He will show us the next step to take.

As I invite the Holy Spirit in and trust in Him, the fruit of the Spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control grows. At the same time, I can choose to seek God in His word and to enjoy Him in His creation. Like Mary and Joseph, I can worship Him, and in "rest and quiet confidence" I can get my strength from Him.

Like Laubach, I can practice living in His presence: "The moment I turn to Him it is like turning on an electric current which I feel through my whole being" (3 June 1930).

Then, truly the celebration of the birth of my Savior will be a joyous one! 

Can We Talk About Mary? -- Day 10 of Advent: Expectantly Waiting

"Inwardly this has been a very uneven week. As a whole, my end of the experiment has been a failure for most of the week. My physical condition and too many distractions have proven too much for me, and God has not been in the center of my mind for one-fifth of the time, or perhaps one-tenth."

That was Frank Laubach writing on June 1, 1930. We want to think people had life easier in (insert a year here). No matter what the year, people have always struggled with their wonderfully made but nonetheless breakable bodies. Some of us could be distracted on a deserted island; Laubach was distracted although he lived a lonely life, and most of us here in 2013 certainly have abundant distractions.

As we talk about physical conditions, distractions, and expectantly waiting, can we just talk about Mary for a moment? In the picture above, my youngest granddaughter has moved Mary and Joseph to the Little People house. Mary did not have such nice accommodations awaiting her at the end of her journey. (Although they are outside the house; maybe this shows no room at the inn?) And, I am not so sure life was so twinkly and lovely as the picture below shows.

Mary is, however, a great model for the themes of the Bethlehem candle: faith, love, preparation, expectantly waiting, and yesterday, I heard another theme: peace (which I thought was the fourth candle, but we'll discuss that in another two weeks).

Have you ever stopped to think of Mary's parents or her upbringing? I don't think I ever did until I prepared to write this blog. An angel comes, and she's scared and wonders about his greeting, but she does know it's an angel. She doesn't ask the angel what he means when he speaks about Jesus. She asks him a technical question: "Um, I have never been that way with [known] a man. How can this be?"

She does not question what or who the Holy Spirit is. She hears the explanation of the angel and says those quotable words: "Behold the maidservant of the Lord! Let it be to me according to your word."

Mary has been brought up to know God and the history of God and His people. We have further evidence of this when she meets up with Elizabeth. She has been prepared for this moment even though she could not have known that it was coming to her. She has faith in God; she trusts Him; she loves Him. And, now she expectantly waits, as far as we know, in peace.

But, it could not have been easy. She gets sent off to cousin Elizabeth's house during the first three months of pregnancy, that is, when she is in the throes of morning sickness. Near the end of her pregnancy when she is huge and uncomfortable, she travels to Bethlehem where there is no room for them. She ends up giving birth, not in a comfortable stable like we are accustomed to seeing, but probably a cave-type of place for the animals.

And, don't even get me started on that verse in "Away in the Manger" where baby Jesus "no crying he makes." We might want to associate crying as a sin, but it's not. The shortest verse in the bible is "Jesus wept." Mary is young; she has a baby (totally human, totally God) who cries to communicate and she is in a cold cave stable with animals. Tell me that Mary does not have uneven days. But, she could say as Laubach wrote: "But today has been a wonderful day and some of yesterday was wonderful." Days not based on physical conditions or circumstances, but only based on drawing close to God. Expectantly waiting to see what next step to take, expectantly waiting to see what beauty might arise, expectantly waiting to see what God will do. 

Expectantly Waiting -- Day 9 of Advent

A dear friend just posted another meaning for the Bethlehem candle: Expectantly Waiting. I love it! Joseph was willing to travel to Bethlehem with expectant Mary because he trusted God. He believed the message from the angel of the Lord: "Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins" (Matthew 1:20-21). Joseph waited expectantly for this message to come true. Joseph's encounter with God enabled him to wait, to take action, to be courageous.

I can not help but return to the same long letter from Frank Laubach on May 24, 1930 as he describes his life continually encountering God: "I worry about nothing, and lose no sleep...Even the mirror reveals a new light in my eyes and face. I no longer feel in a hurry about anything...Nothing can go wrong except one thing. that is the God may slip from my mind if I do not keep on my guard. If He is there, the universe is with me. My task is simple and clear.

"And I witness to the way in which the world reacts. Take Lanao and the Moros for illustration. Their responsiveness is to me a continuous source of amazement. I do nothing that I can see except to pray for them, and to walk among them thinking of God. They know I am a Protestant; yet two of the leading Moslem priests have gone around the province telling everybody that I would help the people to know God."

Oh, that I may remember to expectantly wait and trust that God is at work!

(Mary and Joseph still traveling. They have moved from the philosophy section to the English teacher books -- poor Mary and Joseph! There are days when we expectantly wait with a window view, and other days when our wait is a little less exciting; nonetheless, the end of the wait will be worth it all.)

The Bethlehem Candle -- The 8th Day of Advent

Today we light the second candle of the Advent wreath. I thought this candle represented "Faith" just as the first candle represented "Hope." However, I did not find agreement for its meaning. Some say "Faith," some say "Love," others say "Preparation." It does appear that most call this the Bethlehem candle. I may end up touching on faith, love, and preparation, but I definitely think of "Journey" when I imagine Mary and Joseph traveling to Bethlehem.

I took a journey with my granddaughters last night...okay, so it was just down the street; nonetheless, the preparation involved 3 sets of mittens, 3 hats, 3 scarves, 3 coats, a set of wool socks (for Grandma), a blanket for the  youngest -- along with a stroller -- and a flashlight. We were taking our annual Christmas Walk Around the Lake. It is a joyous, albeit cold, tradition. The street that circles our local lake closes down for the night so that townsfolk can walk around looking at lights, listening to carols, eating popcorn, drinking hot cider, and greeting old friends (if you can recognize them in the dark). I do not think Mary and Joseph experienced this type of journey, and I can not even imagine what preparation went into their travels to Bethlehem.

All this thinking about journeys and preparations made me realize that my life with Jesus has been a journey beginning with His love for me. I am glad that I did not have to make vast preparations for Him to love me. My connection today with Frank Laubach returns to his May 24 letter and a rather "different" occurrence than most of us are accustomed to.

"...I climbed 'Signal Hill' back of my house, talking and listening to God all the way up, all the way back, all the lovely half hour on the top. And God talked back! I let my tongue go loose and from it there flowed poetry far more beautiful than any I ever composed. it flowed without pausing and without ever a failing syllable for a half hour. I listened astonished and full of joy and gratitude. I wanted a Dictaphone for I knew that I should not remember it -- and now I cannot. 'Why,' someone may ask, 'did God waste His poetry on  you alone, when you could not carry it home?' You will have to ask God that question. I only know He did and I am happy in the memory."

I know I risk losing readers (and maybe friends!) quoting such a mystical happenstance, but what I love about the story is God "wasting His poetry on [Laubach] alone." It truly sounds like something God would do. His love is so extravagant that He would gladly waste His poetry on each of us (and I do not think it is wasteful, nor do I think God thinks it is wasteful). He is LOVE, and we do not have to earn His love. Can you imagine a baby in the womb trying to figure out how to prepare himself or herself to be loved by his/her parents? The baby can not do so; neither can we. God freely gives His love "while we were yet sinners." Oh, on this journey, may I learn to listen with astonishment, joy and gratitude like Laubach did to Jesus' words of love.

The Beauty of Hope -- Day 7 of Advent

On this seventh day of Advent, I want to post pictures of beauty. Most of the time, I try to find photos I have taken myself (thus, the quality may be less than desired :D). However, this picture above (and one other photo of my sister and I running from the ocean waves in the November 22 post "Where Did My Year Go?) was taken by a former student and professional photographer Melissa Johnson. I chose this photo to connect with Frank Laubach's letter from May 24, 1930:

"One thing I have seen this week is that God loves beauty. Everything He makes is lovely. The clouds, 

the tumbling river, the waving lake, the soaring eagle, the slender blade of grass, the whispering of the wind, the fluttering butterfly, this graceful transparent nameless child of the lake which clings to my window for an hour and vanishes for ever. Beautiful craft of God! 

And I know that He makes my thought-life beautiful when I am open all the day to Him." 

As this first week of Advent comes to an end, but our journey continues, I close with this blessing from 2 Thessalonians 2:16  --

"Now may our Lord Jesus Christ Himself and our God and Father, who has loved us and given us everlasting consolation and good hope by grace, comfort your hearts and establish you in every good word and work." 

On the Sixth Day of Advent, My TRUE LOVE Brought to Me

Why a bird on an Advent post? Well, yes, there is the Twelve Days of Christmas song with seven swans a'swimming, but I did not actually think of that until I was uploading (downloading?) this picture. I would have liked to have posted a red cardinal...on a mailbox...surrounded by snow...snow that lasted just long enough for me to take a picture, but would be gone before I had to drive in it.
Sigh. I think I have just revealed that a good part of me would like to live in a Christmas card world.

A Christmas card world is not my world, and I suspect that it is not your world either. A friend was scheduled for surgery today, but the hospital power is frozen. That is the side of snow we don't see in those peaceful Christmas scenes. In my Internet mailbox are some devastating stories which I will not go into for fear that you will stop reading. And, the least of my worries, when I went to, at the very least, take a picture of a blue bird sitting atop of the bird feeder, the bird flew off. It did not just fly off, it flitted around the bushes and branches either hollering at me or warning its friends that a human being was on the premises.

Birds, for the past four or five years, have been used by God in my life to constantly remind me that He is alive and active in my life. This morning, I was more reminded of my own actions. As an old hymn states: Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it. Still, when I wander, I  do feel it. I noticed when I am wandering and when I am in touch with God. And, those times of being in touch are precious.

For those who have forgotten, or those just now joining in: I have been connecting my Advent posts with a small collection of letters from a missionary Frank Laubach. On May 14, 1930, Laubach wrote:

"Oh, this thing of keeping in constant touch with God, of making Him the object of my thought and the companion of my conversations, is the most amazing thing I ever ran across. It is working. I cannot do it even half of a day -- not yet, but I believe I shall be doing it some day for the entire day. it is a matter of acquiring a new habit of thought. Now I like God's presence so much that when for a half hour or so He slips out of mind -- as He does many times a day -- I feel as though I had deserted Him, and as thought I had lost something very precious in my life." 

He doesn't desert me; I fly away, walk away, wander away, swim away from Him. Therefore, it is good that He brought birds into my life because I see them so often. Right now there is a woodpecker on the pine tree just outside of my window.

He doesn't only use birds; He also uses comments from friends. Yesterday a friend shared how she thought about being with God in the midst of lost papers and company coming and a thousand things to do. Later in the day when I could not find an important paper with addresses, my first thought...wait for it...no, it was not of being with God. Sigh. My first thought was, "I am so frustrated with myself! I am going to get on Facebook and tell my friends that I am so frustrated with myself." The NEXT thought was of her comment about being with God and this thought: "Why not tell Jesus you are so frustrated with yourself." So, I did. In that moment I felt so close to God. I felt loved.

I am a slow learner; however, later that night when the cold weather killed my old battery just as I was supposed to be taking the grandchildren home, I gave it over to God. After my husband temporarily revived the car, long enough to drive it with lights flickering, I again turned to the Lord as I prayed: "Immanuel, God with me" all the way home.

Psalm 42:5 -- "Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you disquieted within me? 
Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my help and my God. 

On this sixth day of Advent, I praise Him: my Hope, my Help, my God.

The Empty Stable -- Day 5 of Advent

This is my empty stable sitting atop of my fireplace mantle. The sight is rather jarring, is it not? I am accustomed to seeing a full stable, particularly at Christmas time. Also, if you have read my previous post "Where Are You Christmas?" on Monday, December 2, then you will know that I see a full stable every day of the year in a back bedroom. An empty stable is such a strange sight that it causes me constantly to reflect on Jesus, and I like that.

On April 22, 1930, Frank Laubach wrote: "The 'experiment' is interesting, although I am not very successful, thus far. The idea of God slips out of my sight for I suppose two-thirds of every day, thus far. This morning I started out fresh, by finding a rich experience of God in the sunrise. Then I tried to let him control my hands while I was shaving and dressing and eating breakfast. Now I am trying to let God control my hands as I pound the typewriter keys. If I could keep this morning up I should have a far higher average today than I have had for some time."

Sunrise, shaving, dressing, eating, typing...isn't interesting that we tend to look for God in only the BIG ways, the miraculous...but then again, each day is a miracle. Each day I can wake up, say "Hello, God!"; check out the patterns of frost outside my window, eat breakfast with Jesus, notice the empty stable. None of these activities took money or time away. (Not that I am disparaging a retreat with God; I will happily take any time away with God that comes along!) But, if the baby woke you up early this morning (or, in my case, the dog), or if your alarm did not go off as planned and you are running around trying to get yourself to school, a job, an appointment in time, we still can have Immanuel -- God with us. Actually, when I am running late, I do a whole lot better with Jesus than without Him.

Psalm 33: 18-22 -- "Behold, the eye of the LORD is on those who fear Him,
On those who hope in His mercy,
To deliver their soul from death,
And to keep them alive in famine.
Our soul waits for the LORD;
He is our help and our shield.
For our heart shall rejoice in Him,
Because we have trusted in His holy name.
Let Your mercy, O LORD, be upon us,
Just as we hope in You.

How do we view God? I did not know this was where I was headed this morning until I sat down with my Bible and read Psalm 33 and Luke 24: 5b -- "'Why do you seek the living among the dead? He is not here, but is risen!'" I trust that Jesus is God of the living; His Holy Spirit is with me daily. Jesus not only saves me from death, He also keeps me alive in famine. When many struggle to have power and to take what others have for fear that they themselves will not have enough, I can know I am safe. I have Immanuel, God with me.

My empty stable causes me to ponder: What if Jesus had never been born? Is my God only a baby in a stable? Is my God alive?

He is alive; He is more than a baby in a stable.

My hope is based on nothing less!

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.

Where Are You Christmas? Day 2 of Advent

Eleven months out of the year, our nativity set sits on the top of the bookshelf in the back bedroom. It is a constant reminder that the hope of the Messiah was fulfilled. A constant reminder that Christmas is for more than just one day each year. On this second day of Advent, in my hometown, it does not feel like Christmas. Snow does not cover the ground as it does in Christmas cards. In fact, when I took my granddaughter to the park, we threw off our jackets immediately. I google'd the weather in Bethlehem and it is the exact same temperature as where I live! There is one difference -- it is 10 hours later. My 65 degrees came at noon, and their temperature was still that high at 10 in the evening. They are even warmer -- no snow for them. More than likely (as in 100% likely), Jesus' birth did not look like my nativity set nor my Christmas cards. Reading the biblical accounts we realize Jesus was probably born in a month like September, not December. The kings did not come to the stable, and the stable in those days was a cave. Still, this precious nativity, chosen for how much wear and tear it could endure when handled by children, can re-focus my vision on those days when I am running around mindlessly.

On March 23, 1930, Frank Laubach wrote: "You and you and you and I do experience fine fresh contact with God sometimes, and do carry out His will sometimes. One question now to be put to the test is this: Can we have that contact with God all the time? All the time awake, fall asleep in His arms, and awaken in his presence, can we attain that?....Or are there periods when business, and pleasures, and crowding companions must necessarily push God out of our thoughts?"

No, Frank was not out Christmas shopping when he wrote this. :D

He writes the usual answer to this question: "If one thinks of God all the time, he will never get anything else done."  But, he follows with what he learned: "So I thought too, until now, but I am changing my view. We can keep two things in mind at once. Indeed we cannot keep one thing in mind more than half a second. Mind is a flowing something. It oscillates. Concentration is merely the continuous return to the same problem from a million angles. We do not think of one thing. We always think of the relationship of at least two things, and more often of three or more things simultaneously." 

"If our religious premises are correct at all, then this oneness with God is the most normal condition one can have. It is what made Christ, Christ. It is what St. Augustine meant when he said, 'Thou hast made us for Thyself, and our souls are restless until they find their rest in Thee.'"

Frank Laubach called this continual attempt to rest in God, to come back to God minute by minute, an experiment. What better time to start an experiment such as this -- continually looking for Jesus -- than during the Christmas season?

"Can a laboring man successfully attain this continuous surrender to God?"

"Can a merchant do business, can an accountant keep books, ceaselessly surrendered to God? Can a mother wash dishes, care for the babies, continuously talking to God?Can little children be taught to talk and listen to God inwardly all day long, and what is the effect upon them?" 

"Can a politician keep in a state of continuous contact with God, and not lose the following of the crowds?" Yes, Laubach wrote that in 1930. Well, this is the week of Advent where we remember hope. Hope in Jesus. I hope in vain that my Christmas celebrations will always look like a Christmas card. I hope in vain that anything or anyone other than Jesus will fill me with joy. But, my flesh rests in hope when I set the Lord always before me.

"I will bless the Lord who has given me counsel; my heart also instructs me in the night seasons.
I have set the Lord always before me; Because He is at my right hand I shall not be moved.
Therefore my heart is glad, and my glory rejoices; My flesh also will rest in hope....
You will show me the path of life; In Your presence is the fullness of joy;
At Your right hand are pleasures forevermore" Psalm 16:7-9,11.

Happy Holidays! Merry Christmas! Welcome to the First Day of Advent!

Words. They have such incredible power. Power to bless and power to hurt. I have spent the last fifteen minutes just trying to write this first paragraph -- trying to arrange the words in such a way that they truly express words in my heart, words of blessing. I meant my last post to be one of thankfulness, and, as far as I know that is how the post was read: no one expressed a critical word. It was only the composition teacher in me that saw how I should have rearranged certain paragraphs. On this first day of Advent when we light the candle of hope, I hope that my readers heard a voice of thankfulness even with sorrows that remain a mystery. It is the hope I have in Jesus that preserves my soul during days of sorrows that can not be easily explained. I am not currently in those dark days...but people I love are going through tough times. I would not trivialize what they are going through by writing as though thankfulness comes easy. Knowing that life can be a struggle, why then do we fall so easily into a critical spirit during this season for which Jesus is the reason?

Most of life does not look like a Christmas card; nonetheless, cards express a hope that all is well with family and friends. The person sending this Season's Greeting card sees beauty and peace. She is not thinking about raising the ire of folks who prefer to be greeted with "Merry Christmas." I know because  the card came out of my Christmas box along with two more cards shown below.

Not all of my cards look this way. I am searching high and low for beautiful cards that express the hope I have in my Savior as we celebrate His birth prophesied so long ago in the book of Isaiah.

"The people who have walked in darkness have seen a great light."

"For unto us a Child is born, Unto us a Son is given."

The cards are out there, I know. I will find them (soon I hope). But, the cards here are lovely, and I will bless my friends and family as I write inside of them. Jesus is indeed the reason for this season and for these holy days. Jesus wants me to love not only my brethren but also my enemies. So when I am greeted with "Happy Holidays!" I am going to take it as a blessing. My bashing a Happy Holiday-er will never cause them to have a "Merry Christmas!" It is the love of our Abba Father (Daddy!); Christ, our hope of glory; and the joy of the Holy Spirit shining forth as light through our lives that God can use to woo people.

On this first day of Advent when we are reminded of the hope we have in Jesus, may you and I live and move and have our beings in Jesus so much so that His love, grace, mercy, peace, and all fruit of the Spirit overflows to all that we meet.  

Sorrows and Thankfulness -- Thoughts on a Life of 59 Years

One of my English professors was fond of telling the story of a young man who faced a deep sorrow and afterwards the young man's depth of writing greatly improved. I hated the story because I did not want to face sorrow to be a better writer. I can not say that sorrow has improved my writing, but it has brought depth to my character.

Some of you know I started blogging in January of this year so that I could connect my posts with the Letters of Frank Laubach. The letter that I landed on for my birthday, of all days, deals with sorrow.

"I have been so desperately lonesome that it was unbearable save by talking with God...Somebody was telling me this week that nobody can make a violin speak the last depths of human longing until that soul has been made tender by some great anguish" (Laubach 15 March 1930).

Oh well, why not address sorrow? On this day, the culmination of my 59th year, I can write that I have experienced sorrow (as well as many blessings). I can not write that I am thankful for the sorrow (perhaps in one or two cases I can), but I am thankful for the grace and comfort that God brought into and out of the sorrow.

I never understood any reason for the sorrows of my childhood until I went to other countries where God used my own experiences to open doors into the hearts of people whose lives were so different from those of my American companions.

And so, I give thanks.

When I was laid off from my job, I not only lost my job but also my community. I can write now, nearly five years later, that the deep and intense love that I felt from God made it all worthwhile.

And so, I give thanks.

I have seen some become bitter from sorrow. Maybe the bitter ones become the better writers. Yet, I would not trade my life for Mark Twain's or Robert Frost's (two writers who never overcame their bitterness because of sorrow) for all the acclaim in the world.

And so, I give thanks.

Two years ago, I applied for a program and did not make it in. Instead, my application was rolled over for another year, and this time, after being put on a waiting list, God opened the doors. This is one of those cases where words can not express the extent of my thankfulness. I love the international group of friends with whom I am walking this journey.

And so, I give thanks.

This year, I applied for my dream job, and I did not get it. This year, an older friend died when I was out of town, a family member died too soon, and a little one did not make it to his first birthday. Deep sorrows indeed. I can not understand these sorrows; I can not be thankful for them -- their purposes remain a mystery to me.

Some mysteries may be explained while I am in this mortal body and some may not, but one thing I know: in fifty-nine years, no one has ever shown me a better way or life or truth than that which I see in Jesus Christ.

And so, I give thanks. 

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.

Minute By Minute

Familiarity breeds contempt, so the ancient proverb states. However, I have learned that proverbs are not meant as sure promises or guarantees. They often are true, but not always. Familiarity with God has not bred contempt; although, who can truly say she is "familiar" with God and His ways.

His ways include "coincidences" such as finishing up a study in James, turning to Laubach's January 20th entry and discovering God is speaking the same words to me in two different texts. God has done this enough times, I would think such happenings would become mundane; instead, I am nudged into attention.

The English teacher in me is already happy with the attention I have been paying to James as he writes: "James, a servant of God and of the Lord Jesus Christ, to the twelve tribes which are scattered abroad, greetings (chairein - Joy to you!). Count it all joy (charan), my brethren when you might fall into various temptations..." Look at that wonderful sentence flow! The first sentence ends with joy, and he picks up the linking word of joy at the beginning of the next sentence. A+ James!

The challenge (and coincidence) happens when I actually stop to consider the content: Joy at the possibility of temptations? Beth Moore writes in her Mercy Triumphs study of James, "...do we have a better plan? Let's do what the first word...says: let's 'consider' our options. What are my other plans, and how do they pan out? Sometimes our root issue is that we don't want to be forced into anything. We need to know we really do have options. Let's think through three. Identify your most pressing personal trial right now....Now, consider the fruit of each of the three. What do you believe the five-year ramifications would be for each of those courses of action?...Food for thought, isn't it? While counting our trials joys because of the treasures they can bring may be the hard choice in the beginning, most of us would have to admit that the other options don't pan out as well (46).

Laubach writes, "But this year I have started out trying to live all my waking moments in conscious listening to the inner voice, asking without ceasing, 'What, Father, do you desire said? What, Father, do you desire done this minute?' It is clear that this is exactly what Jesus was doing all day every day. But it is not what His followers have been doing in very large numbers"(20 January 1930).

If I fill my mind with worries about all the temptations I will face today, how I will deal with them, how I will probably fail and have to clean up some mess, as I try to figure out all the scenarios, i realize i have a different option: i can obey GOD step by step: What, Father, do you desire said? What, Father, do you desire done this minute? And, i (little 'i') can let HIM deal with the rest. When that happens, my day begins and ends with joy.

An Exploratory Expedition of a New World

Frank Laubach writes of his "Game with Minutes": "[It] is a rather lighthearted name...Many of us have found it to be enormously helpful. It is a new name for something as old as Enoch, who 'walked with God.' It is a way of living which nearly everybody knows and nearly everybody has ignored. Students will at once recognize it as a fresh approach to Brother Lawrence's 'Practicing the Presence of God.'"

"We call this a 'game' because it is a delightful experience and an exhilarating spiritual exercise; but we soon discover that it is far more than a game. Perhaps a better name for it would be 'an exploratory expedition,' because it opens out into what seems at first like a beautiful garden; then the garden widens into a country; and at last we realize that we are exploring a new world. This may sound like poetry, but it is not overstating what experience has shown us. Some people have compared it to getting out of a dark prison and beginning to LIVE. We still see the same world, yet it is not the same, for it has a new glorious color and a far deeper meaning. Thank God, this adventure is free for everybody, rich or poor, wise or ignorant, famous or unknown, with a good past or a bad--'Whosoever will, may come.' The greatest thing in the world is for everybody!" (Loc 704)

Dallas Willard writes also of this new world in the prelude to his book Renovation of the Heart: "When we open ourselves to the writings of the New Testament, when we absorb our minds and hearts in one of the Gospels, for example, or in letters such as Ephesians or 1 Peter, the overwhelming impression that comes upon us is that we are looking into another world and another life."(italics mine)

"It is a divine world and a divine life. It is life in the 'kingdom of the heavens.' Yet is a world and a life that ordinary people have entered and are entering even now. It is a world that seems open to us and beckons us to enter. We feel its call.

"The amazing promises to those who give their life to this new world through their confidence in Jesus leap out at us from the page.

"For example, we read Jesus' own words, that those who give themselves to him will receive a 'living water,' the Spirit of God Himself, that will keep them from ever again being thirsty -- being driven and ruled by unsatisfied desires -- and that this 'water' will become a well or spring of such water 'gushing up to eternal life' (John 4:14, PAR). Indeed, it will even become 'rivers of living water' flowing from the center of the believer's life to a thirsty world (John 7:38)" (p 9, loc 135).

A new world open to all, but few of us walk through that door. How strange as I wrote that last sentence I thought of a Kafka parable "Before the Law." Glancing at the story now (after many years have past since I first read it), I see that it is a longer and more complex story than my memory recalled. Without a closer look, I'm still going to write that it occurs to me that many of us stay out of this new world because of doorkeepers in our minds. For Laubach's friends, turning one's mind toward God one second of every minute of the day simply could not be done. According to Willard, we read the Gospels and the doorkeepers tell us "that the life [we] see there is so unlike what [we] know from [our] own experience" that we "neglect," "avoid," and/or "fail to immerse" ourselves in the words of Jesus.

What if, one by one, we start living as the free women and men of God that we are, and we take steps to walk through that door? Doorkeepers are employees of one with a greater authority. Doorkeepers must stand aside and let the residents enter. The One in authority has invited us into His kingdom. Why are we standing outside?

3 January 2013

As I want to be able to respond to other readings, I have decided to only post on Frank Laubach's Letters of a Modern Mystic on the dates included in his book. However, I have a problem. I'm not sure what I want to say today. So, I will start with Laubach's opening words:

"To be able to look backward and say, 'This, this has been the finest year of  my life' -- that is glorious! But anticipation! To be able to look ahead and say, 'The present year can and shall be better!' -- that is more glorious!

"If we said such things about our achievements, we would be consummate egotists. But if we are speaking of God's kindness, and we speak truly, we are but grateful. And this is what I do witness. I have done nothing but open windows -- God has done all the rest. There have been few if any conspicuous achievements. There has been a succession of marvelous experiences of the friendship of God."

I know now what I will share. Today, I stopped every time I didn't know what I should do next. I said, "I'm lost. I am overwhelmed with so much to do." And, I waited. When the impression of the next step came, I took it. And, I have found that much has been accomplished. Even the writing of this particular post. I felt pressured by time constraints. Yet, I said, "God, if you intend me to finish this today, then it will be finished. If you do not, then I will go my way in peace knowing that you have chosen my path."