awakened to freedom

In one of my recent posts, I wrote about being consumed, about opening my hands and my heart to let the Spirit enter in.  This could be part two of that post.  I’ve been meditating and praying a lot on what this means, and I’ve been seriously amazed at what it can mean.  Over the past several years, I have known I’m missing something in my spiritual life.  I was kind of floating along, playing the part, listening to others and wondering what I’m doing wrong.  I would read certain Scriptures and long for the words to come alive in me, although I really had no idea what that meant.  I felt like I should be further along than I was.  I’ve been raised in a Christian home, went to a Christian college, married a guy who is passionate about his faith and has now been called to holy orders.  Shouldn’t I have “gotten it” by now?  Shouldn’t I be one that others look to as an example, instead of blindly stumbling my way through each day, hoping no one sees the real me? 

A handful of experiences lead me to realize that I had built some pretty thick walls around my heart and soul.  And I had an army protecting those walls.  I was desperate to dictate who and what was allowed in, all the time wondering why I felt so restrained and uneasy.  I determined to do something about it.  I was going to figure out how to make things better.  I prayed about it…every now and then.  I bought books, read blogs, faced hard days with a fierce resolve to get it right.  And I failed.  Over and over.  Nothing worked.  I was so frustrated.

Fast forward to last year.  The Lord started to work on me.  At first it was in ways I didn’t even notice.  But then there were a few key events that were refreshing slaps in the face.  I slowly started to understand that I needed to let Jesus tear my walls down and be my strength.  I remember one evening our Bishop was praying over me, and he told me that he sensed that for my whole life I had been walking alongside a rushing river, and now it was time to jump in.  Yes!  That’s what I want, what I need. 

Not long after this experience, on my way home from a women’s retreat (which was one of those key events), as I drove I had an image of chunks of me falling away, and I was frantically grabbing the pieces and holding them tightly to me, literally trying to hold myself together.  It was a vivid picture of the rigid pattern I had developed in my life, working so hard to look like I’ve got it right, to move through each day in complete control.  I tearfully recognized the need to let Jesus pick up those pieces and hold them for me.  To let the Holy Spirit guide me, to relinquish the control I clung to.

But with this realization came intense fear.  Doubt.  What will happen if I let go?  What will I be asked to do?  To give up?  What if I don’t have what it takes?  What if I fail?  Can I really trust that He will provide?  Too many questions.  Too many unknowns. 

Then, at a retreat for the clergy and spouses of our diocese, I was so blessed by a word the Lord spoke to me.  During a time of prayer, our Bishop prayed that he knew there were some people present who needed to open their hearts.  Of course, I identified with that right away.  This had been on my mind for several months, but I was still coming to terms with it.  So I began to open my heart right there.  I started telling God that I knew He was speaking to me, but that fear had been holding me back, and I didn’t know what to do with that.  He spoke clearly and powerfully to me through the prayers of others, through my own prayers, and through His Word.  He reminded me that He will show me the way, He will provide more than I could ever ask or imagine, that I need not fear, only believe. 

So, I’ve jumped in the river, and the freedom I’m experiencing is incredible.  The other day I came across one of the books I purchased in my earnest attempt to fix myself.  It was about the fruit of the Spirit.  As I put it away, I joyfully thanked God for this journey I’ve been on; for the place I am now; for the opportunity to be in communion with Him, Father, Son, Spirit; for the fruits He produces in us when we allow Him to enter in.  For the freedom from feeling like I have to figure it all out and make the fruits take root in my life. 

Now I’m not saying it’s all sunshine and roses.  As Fr. Eirik so eloquently reminded us in his recent sermon, just like Thomas, we often don’t trust easily.  We need to come just as we are, humbly, honestly, admitting our faithlessness.  And while He will give us marvelous signs to show us that He is enough, the true blessing comes when we believe.  When we are in communion with Him, with our defenses down, just being in His presence will allow Him to renew us into the fullness of life, in the hope and reality of His resurrection.  Because He has overcome, all of our shortcomings, our fears, our doubts.  And His wounds are the way to the Father.  The way to abundant life, a life of victorious freedom in the Holy Spirit. 

 

THE Reason, and Other Reflections on Holy Week

Holy Week.  THE week that liturgical churches anticipate with a mix of delighted excitement and anxious preparation every year.

Let me be embarrassingly honest here.  I’ve never really been excited about Holy Week.  Since we’ve been attending Light of Christ Anglican Church in Kenosha, WI (shameless plug!), it’s always been a LONG week of late nights with grumpy kids and impossible expectations for quiet services (at least some of them).  Not to mention all the planning, scheduling, bulletin-making, and other ways I’ve been involved in years past.  And through it all, I was just trudging through with my head down, running out the door as soon as each service was over, or even before it was done, thankful for the excuse of overtired children.

This year, we decided to travel back to Virginia/Tennessee for our 10th college reunion.  We knew it was the weekend of Palm Sunday, but it doubled as a trip to visit family, and we haven’t been back home in over a year.  So we decided to bite the bullet and make the trip.  The week before, we seriously thought about cancelling at the last minute.  Both of us were totally overwhelmed by all we had going on.  It’s almost the end of my first semester in grad school.  Luke has more church responsibilities now that he’s ordained.  Plus he had to try to figure out how to fit in his clients at work since we would be gone several days.  But in the end, we decided to go, and we were glad we did.  It was truly a fun time.  We celebrated Kenna’s 9th birthday with family, we had warm sunny weather every day, we saw old friends, we had a date night.  Very refreshing and relaxing!  Although we won’t plan a trip before/during Holy Week again…

We came back on Tuesday, two days before Luke was scheduled to preach on Maundy Thursday.  In case you’re wondering, preaching weeks are HARD.  I worked the rest of the week and had (still have!) mountains of work to finish on two huge projects for school.  The dog was sick.  Really sick.  The kids had a rehearsal on Wednesday evening right after school, which meant dinner and homework were happening at bedtime.  Unpacking, post-vacation laundry.   What were we thinking??!!

On Thursday evening, as soon as I finished my work day I had to make a quick dinner to feed the kids, get all four dressed and out the door for our 7pm service.  It wasn’t pretty, mostly because of MY attitude, not theirs.  Side note: bedtime at this house is 7:30pm, so perhaps you can imagine how I feel about 7pm church services?  Thankfully, our church brings in an outside childcare provider so we can all fully participate in each service.  Truly, I am thankful for that.  But still, I sat down at the service in a very crabby mood.  I didn’t know exactly why, but I did NOT want to be there.  I was allowing myself to sulk because of all I have going on, and since Holy Week had never been a bright spot for me before, this was just one more night service to endure.  And I was weighed down by guilt over fussing at the kids when I was getting them ready to leave.  And then I listened to Luke’s message.  As is appropriate for Maundy Thursday, it was about love.  And the guilt increased, because all I could think about was how I wish I was better about showing the love of Jesus to my kids.  But then, he said something about how we have the opportunity to hold the light of Jesus in our hands as we wash the feet of our loved ones.  I can’t explain it, but those words touched me so deeply.  I was reminded that even when it’s hard, even when I screw up, even when it feels like my kids ignore everything I’m saying, it’s the light and love of Jesus that binds our family together and gives shape to our love for each other.  I left the service with a heart full of light and love instead of darkness and guilt.  To top it off, the kids and I had a sweet conversation about the love of Jesus on our way home, and bedtime even went (fairly) well!

Friday, I woke up excited about what the Lord had in store for me.  I had to work all day, but I’m so blessed by my flexible job, and I was able to use my lunch break to drive down to Kenosha and work the rest of the day from there.  Luke spent all day at the church, coordinating the various events.  The kids spent all day playing with friends and had a blast.  That night, our dear Deacon Jan shared such a beautiful word about what Jesus did for us on the cross.  It was fresh and poignant, and so fitting as we prepared for the veneration, a time when we touch the wood of the cross in adoration of our Savior’s sacrifice.  At this service, I was overcome by gratitude for the clergy in our church.  Fr. Eirik and our Deacons are incredibly humble, gracious, loving servants who truly lead by example.  I praised God for moving our church in the direction of bringing Fr. Eirik on as our full-time rector, because I know without a doubt that he is the right leader for this body of believers.  And I praised God for bringing Luke and me here, and leading us to ordination here, in this church, in this diocese.  I left the service knowing with certainty that we are in the right place, and so thankful for His sovereignty.  What a blessing!

Needless to say, Saturday was also a joyful day.  As I took the kids to a rehearsal and delivered food to the home across the street where we all gather for meals, I felt like I was at a family reunion.  The home belongs to our Deacon Jan and his wife Michelle, whose gift of hospitality is truly remarkable.  Chatting and laughing with friends, feeding and chasing each other’s kids, working together to prepare food and clean up afterwards.  I love this church family!  And the Vigil service – let me tell you, if you’ve never experienced an Easter Vigil, you’re missing out.  This is the first year that I’ve been able to stay through the entire service, and I’m so glad for that!  The readings were incredible, each one in its own way.  Seriously, we have some amazingly talented people.  I was blown away as I reflected on each person’s gifts and how we all use them to glorify Him.  And Fr. Eirik’s message was like the Lord was speaking directly to me.  It was perfectly in line with many things I’ve been praying about and meditating on in recent months.  The Holy Noise, the praising, the rejoicing, the dancing – no words to describe it.  What a grand celebration of the Resurrection of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ!  How can you not be swept up in the joy of it all?

And finally, a sweet Sunday morning service.  Bright cheerful flowers on the stage, their fragrance the first thing you notice when you walk in.  Light streaming in the windows, everyone smiling and rejoicing because He is Risen!  I saw a bunny in my yard before the kids got up that morning, and it occurred to me that as cliché as the phrase “Jesus is the Reason for the Season” is, it applies to Easter every bit as much as Christmas.  What is Easter without Jesus?  And now I can truly say that I can’t imagine Easter without Holy Week and all its festivities that remind us of what our Father and His Son have done for us.  Hearing my little six-year-old son running around the house singing “Christ is risen, He is risen indeed!” fills my heart and makes it all worth it.  I was so blessed by this year’s Holy Week.  It was another step on this momentous journey I have been on over the past year (that’s a whole other post!).  I’m already looking forward to next year!!

be consumed

A couple of weeks ago I had a health scare.  I don’t want to bother you with all the intimate details, so suffice it to say that in my line of work, too much knowledge is a dangerous thing.  I know the statistics and the fact that it was much more likely to be nothing than something.  But I also have seen the worst of the worst and know that “something” was a possibility.  At first, I was able to keep a cool head and for the most part ignore that nagging thought in the back of my mind.  But after a while, when the possible “something” wasn’t going away, I got worried.  And the worry started to take over.  And one day, I could barely think about anything else.  The thoughts of what could happen – I’m talking worst case scenario here – began to consume me.

Now, let me back up.  For the past year or so, I’ve had this burden on my soul to understand what it means to “turn your eyes toward Jesus.”  I liked the idea (that sounds so silly, but it’s true), and I knew deep within me that this seemingly unreachable goal is essential for abundant life.  I’ve always known that God loves me, that He cares for me and watches over me.  That I can take anything to Him in prayer.  That nothing is too big for Him.  But to really look to Him in everything and allow “the things of earth to grow strangely dim”… I had never really experienced this, and I longed for it.  I mulled over this often, trying to reason my way into achieving this goal I had clumsily created for myself.

 

So in this struggle I was having, this day when I was fighting worry and fear over what could be happening, I was looking at my situation with a clouded lens and growing angry over what this possible something would mean to me, to my family, to my future.  I cried out to God… and I began to hear Him.  It wasn’t an audible voice.  It was His Spirit speaking truth into me, through Scripture, through the lyrics of a favorite song of worship, through the prayers and encouragement of my Godly husband, through the outpouring of support in love and prayers from close friends and family.  And the words that I kept hearing were an invitation to rest in His presence.  To “calm and quiet my soul, like a weaned child with its mother” (Psalm 131).  To know that He’s got this.  To realize I don’t have to have all the answers, because He does. 

Those of you who know me well know that I am the definition of a control freak.  I have an incredibly difficult time loosening my grip.  I like things to go my way.  (That’s normal, right?)  So to open my hands and my heart and let the Spirit consume me goes against my nature.  I guess that’s why it’s taken me so long to get this, maybe even why it took a jolting experience like this to bring me to this reality.  But in my angst, I did just that.  I laid my burden at the foot of the cross and found peace there.  Jesus heard my cries and held me in His arms, soothing my soul and reminding me that it doesn’t really matter what happens in this life – He is with me.  I mean, what happens matters.  Day to day life events are important.  We can’t ignore “the small stuff.”  But we can choose to “turn our eyes toward Jesus” and know – really know deep within our souls – that the Lord does have plans to give us hope (Jeremiah 29:11).  They may not be the plans we expect, or even the plans we think we want.  When Jeremiah gave these words to the Israelites, I doubt they liked the idea of their Babylonian exile, or wanted to settle there for seventy years.  But God’s promise was that He would be found by them and restore them.  And He is always with us.  The Psalms are full of reminders of His presence, going before us and behind us (Psalm 139), comforting us (Psalm 23), providing refuge and strength (Psalm 46).  So while I know I’ll still have times when I try to figure it out on my own and muscle my way through, I hope and pray that I’m able to let go, be consumed with the Spirit, and rest in the peace of His sweet presence.

joy to the world!

Joy.  Such a small word with such a huge, earth-shattering impact.  Dictionary.com defines joy as "the emotion of great delight or happiness caused by something exceptionally good or satisfying; keen pleasure; elation; a source or cause of keen pleasure or delight; something or someone greatly valued or appreciated; the expression or display of glad feeling; festive gaiety; a state of happiness or felicity."  I disagree.  Joy is not always equated with happiness, delight, gaiety.  In fact, I'm not sure how to define true joy.  Life is hard, and often we have to choose joy.  I don't mean putting on a happy face during a time of struggle.  I mean a deep sense of joy rooted in our hearts because of the incredible gift of salvation.  Deep enough that no matter what our circumstance, nothing can move it.  It might be hard to see, hard to feel, hard to remember, but it's there.  There's a whole story in Scripture that speaks to where our joy comes from, why we can choose joy in every moment, and how we are to live out this indescribable joy.

First and foremost, we have joy because Jesus came.  God so loved His creation that he sent His perfect Son for our salvation.  His angels alerted us to the fact that His birth was a source of “great joy…for all the people” (Luke 2:10).  We sing about it every year: “Joy to the world, the Lord is come!”  This event alone is enough to bring deep joy. 

But we also know He suffered on our behalf…for joy… “looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God” (Hebrews 12:2).  We are saved because of His suffering and death.  How can you not rejoice?

And that’s not even all.  Jesus is coming AGAIN!  I love this vision from Isaiah 52:8 –

“The voice of your watchmen—they lift up their voice;
    together they sing for joy;
for eye to eye they see
    the return of the Lord to Zion.”

The best part?  Eternal victory is His.  He reigns.  Forever!  Seriously, are there adequate words for this?  Check out the first few verses of Psalm 50.  I mean, just read it.  Meditate on it.  Wow. 

The Mighty One, God the Lord,
    speaks and summons the earth
    from the rising of the sun to its setting.
Out of Zion, the perfection of beauty,
    God shines forth.
Our God comes; he does not keep silence;
    before him is a devouring fire,
    around him a mighty tempest.

HE summons the earth.  HE shines forth.  HE comes.  HE is not silent. 

Now read these words from Isaiah 9:

“The people who walked in darkness
    have seen a great light;
those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness,
    on them has light shone.
You have multiplied the nation;
    you have increased its joy;
For to us a child is born,
    to us a son is given;
and the government shall be upon his shoulder,
    and his name shall be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
    Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
Of the increase of his government and of peace
    there will be no end,
on the throne of David and over his kingdom,
    to establish it and to uphold it
with justice and with righteousness
    from this time forth and forevermore.
The zeal of the Lord of hosts will do this.”

That’s for us.  You and me.  I think “a land of deep darkness” is an apt description, right?  Light, peace, justice, righteousness.  Forevermore.  Certainly a cause for joy. 

So now what?  We clearly see why we can and should have joy.  But what does that mean for today, for right now?  The season of Advent is one of waiting, of preparing our hearts, of preparing the way for the Lord’s second coming.  And there is joy because He is with us, Emmanuel, even in the waiting.  He is God, He reigns even now.  We are His, and His love is steadfast.  And we should praise Him with joyful spirits!

Our soul waits for the Lord;
    he is our help and our shield.
For our heart is glad in him,
    because we trust in his holy name.
Let your steadfast love, O Lord, be upon us,
    even as we hope in you. (Psalm 33:20-22)

Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth!
Serve the Lord with gladness!
    Come into his presence with singing!
Know that the Lord, he is God!
    It is he who made us, and we are his;
    we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture.
Enter his gates with thanksgiving,
    and his courts with praise!
    Give thanks to him; bless his name!
For the Lord is good;
    his steadfast love endures forever,
    and his faithfulness to all generations.  (Psalm 100)

Then we are reminded in 1 Peter 1 of the “living hope…an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you…ready to be revealed in the last time…Though you have not seen him, you love him. Though you do not now see him, you believe in him and rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory, obtaining the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls.”  Believe in Him.  Rejoice.  Wait expectantly, joyfully, for the outcome of your faith. 

And finally, a practical way to live out an expression of joy from the words of John 15 – “As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Abide in my love…that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full. This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you.”  Love one another.  This is the most complete expression of the joy we have been given.  Abide in His love and love one another.  Start with your families.  Watch the joy grown in your children, your loved ones, your neighbors.  Be wealthy in generosity because of the abundance of joy you have in our Savior (2 Corinthians 8).  Wait for Him with hope, with joy, with love, with peace in your hearts.

“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope” (Romans 15:13).

I'm grateful.

For a heavenly Father who created me in His image and showers me with new mercies every morning.  For his faithfulness that reaches to the heavens, grace that abounds despite our weaknesses, and a powerful love that never lets go.  For the hope we share with all the saints that the ultimate victory is His, that His kingdom reigns even now, and that we have the privilege of participating in His incredible story of redemption.

For a husband who loves me for who I am, not because of what I do, or what I say, or how I look, or what I make for dinner.  For his devotion to the Lord, to his family, and to his work.  For his endless encouragement and support for me, for our children, and for everyone he meets.  For his remarkable gifts that so perfectly complement mine. 

For the blessings of four beautiful children and the countless lessons I learn from each of them each day.  For the pleasure of watching them grow and learn and the honor of being an intimate part of their lives.  For their unique personalities and special gifts that make our family what it is.  For their unconditional love for their fallen parents and knowing when a hug or an “I love you Mom” note will make my world seem right again.

For our families and their generosity, for always being there, for making sure our kids know they’re loved.  For our church family, for being part of a community where we can be vulnerable and receive healing.  For our friends, old and new, near and far.   

For physical well-being, a warm home in a neighborhood we love, and the resources to keep our family fed and clothed.  For my job that has provided me with unbelievable flexibility, an amazing team of colleagues, and daily opportunities to love others.  For the guiding hand of our Father, His provision of the perfect job for Luke, and plans we cannot yet see but will continue to trust.

For beauty, creativity, laughter, peace, wisdom, forgiveness, and seasons of change.  For feeding my soul with the grace-filled rhythms of daily life and rest.

I’m grateful.

finding place

The other night I watched a TedTalk about “The Power of Introverts.”  The speaker talked about what it means to be an introvert in a society that places higher value on the gifts of extroversion.  This was the day after I learned my personality type is ISTJ – introverted, organized, practical, detail-oriented, serious.  Basically a nerd.  And at first I was disappointed, maybe even a little embarrassed.  My husband is the total opposite – ENFP.  Extroverted, a visionary, gregarious, charismatic, compassionate.  I want those personality traits.  I mean, doesn’t everyone want to be outgoing?  The socialite, the life of the party, the everyone-wants-to-be-your-friend cool kid?  That’s certainly how I felt growing up, particularly in those oh so difficult years of junior high formation and beyond.

Then in my first year of college, I was part of a group of a handful of friends on my dorm floor.  I knew from the beginning that I didn’t really fit in, but they were fun girls, so we hung out between classes and in the evenings.  I didn’t really know who I was, and that year was a struggle for me emotionally and spiritually.  My husband and I became engaged over Christmas break, but he lived six hours away, and our long distance relationship was tough.  We spent hours on the phone, making plans and trying to decide what the following year would look like for us.  It caused tension with my roommate and friends; they didn’t understand what I was going through, and I was in my own world for much of the spring semester.  At some point they sat me down for a planned “intervention” type discussion.  I don’t remember details, but I vaguely remember the premise being that I had a problem, and they wanted to help “fix” me.  I walked away from that experience truly believing that there was something seriously wrong with me.  I preferred to be alone, and often when I was with a group, I felt awkwardly out of place and uncomfortable.  I have carried those feelings of social inadequacy deep within me for many years, never really understanding why or how I got to that point. 

I still feel that way in many social settings.  I’ve coped by keeping a smile on my face and trudging my way through small talk if someone starts a conversation with me.  Parties and social events actually create anxiety for me.  I hide behind my extrovert husband and rely on him to lead the way.  And I’ve suffered through this for so long without really knowing why.  I guess if you had asked me, I would have identified myself as an introvert.  But I can’t adequately express the relief I have experienced since learning my personality type and gaining a deeper understanding of who I am.  Not just who I am – who God has created me to be.  He purposely wired me this way, with my own personality and set of skills and abilities.  And how necessary they are – the world needs introverts!  Honestly, if you know my husband you know he needs my practical mind to reign him in sometimes! 

Over the past few years I have begun to grasp the knowledge that my identity is wrapped up in being a daughter of our heavenly Father, uniquely crafted in His image to fill a place in this world that only I can fill.  I’m realizing that for most of my life I have let others to write my story for me.  What joy, what freedom I find when I step back and allow God to write my story and show me how beautifully and wonderfully He made me to be.  I’m growing to be pleased and grateful for who I am, and not so caught up with the idea that there is something wrong with me.  I’m learning to embrace my own giftedness and that of others around me.  And I’m rejoicing in the gentle, gracious Spirit of God that faithfully knits us together to fulfill His kingdom purpose.