letting God lead

I've heard many people talk about how God has "led" them or directed them or "told" them what to do.  I, too, have experienced God's leading and have often made comments about how God guided me into a particular direction.  It's not an uncommon thing for followers of God to testify to His leading. But when you take a path that doesn't seem natural to the onlookers, skeptics will ask fair questions like:  Well, how do you know that God led you there?  How does He speak to you?  Are you sure it's God and not your own heart?  How can you tell the difference?

There will be a lot of questions even from those who already walk with God, and have heard His voice too.  But unless you can give them an answer, skeptics will continue to make judgments about your life and your choices.  And I suppose that's all fine and well since we shouldn't care what others think of us anyway, right?  But what happens when we are our own worst critic?  What happens when I'm the one questioning my understanding of God's guidance and doubting His care for me?  Well, I'll tell you what happens.  I end up imploding, that's what.  I end up rejecting God's presence and direction in my life and when I do that, I deny His authority in my own life and essentially tie His hands behind His back.

1 Peter 3:15 says, Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. 

I have given this matter much thought and prayer and am prepared to give a simple answer to those that have asked me direct questions, as well to myself so that I can remain firm in my faith.

What does it mean when God speaks to me?

No, I don't hear an audible voice.  I'm sure it would be rather frightening if I did.  But one way I can explain it is to liken it to something more common, like a craving. When I was pregnant with my firstborn I had ridiculously strong cravings for grapefruit juice.  I HAD to have it.  The craving didn't go away if I ignored it; it actually got worse and worse.  It wasn't the same as a craving for a cookie after lunch.  Those kinds of minor cravings will usually disappear if you can get over the initial temptation.  No, this was intense; obviously something my body required during that time.

Sometimes God puts a craving in my spirit that I just have to address otherwise it won't go away.  Like in regard to prayer for others. I'm doing my own thing when suddenly someone is weighing heavy on my mind and heart and the desire and the direction to pray for them is strong and it doesn't go away until I pray.  The direction to pray for someone is an easy one because by praying I'm not really doing any damage so it doesn't hurt to follow what I perceive to be God's direction.

But sometimes, He leads me in a life direction and I need to know, with certainty, that He's the navigator.  And the truth is, we can never have concrete confidence because we walk by faith and not by sight.  But there are means by which to test the direction.

For example, there are times when we experience "impressions" for a direction that I would liken to an itch.  When God puts an itch in my spirit, my initial reaction, as a child of God is, "Okay God, anything for you."  But then I get my toes in the water just a bit and realize exactly what God is asking of me and that's when my sinful human nature kicks in and I back off with, "Um, on second thought, I don't think so."  But the itch doesn't go away and every time I meet with God, the itch gets stronger and stronger.  And that's how I know it's Him that is leading.  I can test this theory (and I have, an embarrassing amount of times).  I will preoccupy myself with the world's distractions (as an attempt to escape) and suddenly the direction that God had for me becomes dim and unimportant.  And I get feelings and thoughts like, "I'm sure God didn't really ask me to do that.  How silly of me to even think that God would speak to me. What a relief; I'm off the hook."  But then I return to my devotional time with God and the impression or direction comes back very firmly.

Does that make sense?  Do you understand what I'm saying?  I don't just get "impressions" and then run with them.  There is a scientific process I can use.  I test them against the perspectives of the world and compare them to the perspective of a follower of Jesus.  Because guess what?  Walking by faith is something entirely too foreign for many people, unfortunately.  And it would be helpful to have some testimony that's a bit more concrete than just "I believe."

There are some in my life that witness my bold walk of faith and they assume I am rushing into things and not being careful enough.  But here's me, asking you nicely: please do not mistake my faithfulness to God for recklessness and lack of thought.

Those that know me know that I am capable of overthinking things and trying to approach them a little more scientifically than I should.  But that's something I'm trying to fight against because it negates my statement of faith.  Because the truth is, that if I had shuffled my feet when God led me in the past, I would have an entirely different story today.  A story filled with so much more pain and regret and wounds.  I know... I remember... I can see... where my walk of faith has led me and I choose to remain faithful to God too.  When God directs me, and the impression is crystal clear when I am fasting, praying and serving, then I will move without hesitation, regardless of what others think of me.

It would just be swell, though, if those that were closest to me had enough confidence in my walk with God to not be the voice of doubt in my ears.  That would just be super cool.

devoted to prayer

I felt God inviting me, recently, to pray for a specific individual.  I thought, Sure, why not.  I like praying for people.  And I began to pray.  At first it was just every time I thought about it and then it was more often and now it's several times a day.  Seems God is really pushing for something; I don't know what, though.  But I'm a willing servant; I'll go where He leads.  

But today I started experiencing that same tie that I have felt, in the past, when I've prayed for others on a regular basis.  It's the eternal thread that connects me to the heart of another human being as I commune with God on their behalf.  That's a lovely thing but it's also a painful thing to experience a spiritual connection with someone who ends up rejecting the purpose of the prayers or even a friendship with me.  When you start to care so deeply for someone, you desire to be able to commune with them and if that's not an option, it's no fun. 

When I felt myself being pulled into a connection with this other person, it suddenly brought me to a halt.  I decided I didn't want this in my life.  I do pray for my friends, whenever they request prayer, or when I think they need it or when God brings them to mind and invites me to pray.  But to make a commitment to pray for someone on a regular basis is more serious and results in a rather strong tie to them.  And the last time I did that, there were almost zero results.  

Over a year ago, I made a very dedicated commitment to God to pray for a number of people on a daily basis.  I was no longer in the lives of these dear people, so entwining my heart with theirs made the loss and distance so much greater.  Through my prayers I learned to love them as God wanted me to love them and understanding and forgiveness became part of my thought patterns when I remembered them.  I brought them before His throne every, single day for 364 days (I skipped a day because I was angry with lack of results.) But you know what?  The actual prayers I was praying didn't seem to be answered.  And I got to the place of grief where I just couldn't do it anymore; the sadness I experienced over the loss was too great and I was too hopeless. I asked God to release me from this commitment and He graciously did.  

And now He wants me to start again?  No thanks.  That's what I told Him after I had been doing it for a couple weeks.  In addition to "no thanks" there was also a little bit of, "Why?  What's the point?  You just want to use me again?  Oh sure, use me, I'm a good little servant that does what she's told.  And then what?  I get thrown under the bus again?  You just want to use me like this for the sake of someone else when I get nothing out of it at all?  No friendship from those I pray for, no response, just prayer from a distance and they get to reap all the rewards of the prayers and I'm left all alone again?  Because praying for someone on this level really draws me into caring for them but if I'm not even in their life, how will I ever get a return on all this devotion and prayer?  So I'm just some sacrifice on some altar.  Devote myself to others with no promise of return.  Fine.  Whatever, God, I will do it because you ask me to. I don't really want to but I know you're worth it and I'm willing to work for you.  But I'm not happy about it and if there's another way around it, I would like to find it."

Yes, I'm fully aware of how angry and disrespectful I was to God and I did seek His forgiveness, but only after He revealed a painful truth about His own ministry.  

After I quit fighting and submitted my will to Him (although reluctantly), I caught a glimpse of another sacrifice that laid down His own life and devoted His days to praying for those He loved.  And you know what?  He didn't always get a very high return on His devotion.  Some responded to His selfless extension of love but the majority rejected Him.  He knew it would be that way and still He committed Himself to them.  

I realized God wasn't trying to abuse my desire to serve Him; He was trying to show me more about what it means to live like Jesus.  And for me to reject that invitation because I'm focused on my selfishness is just a disgrace to the title "servant of Christ."  

To be like Jesus means devoting my life to people who may never even return the faithfulness.  It means tying up my heart with yet another person that may never respond or never desire unity with Jesus.  It means a high probability of pain and sadness in my own already wounded heart.  

But... the promise remains.  Some people did respond to Jesus when He sacrificed Himself for them.

And so I will pray.  I will pray, unceasingly, because God obviously cares for this individual and would like me to lift them up to Him for whatever purpose.  And who knows, maybe this time, I won't be just a sacrifice; maybe I'll end up with an eternal friend too...

the right thing

Today's verse of the day caught my eye.  To do what is right and just is more acceptable to the Lord than sacrifice.  Proverbs 21:3

It caught my eye because at first it didn't make sense.  Mostly because doing the "right thing" often seems like a sacrifice.  So if we're sacrificing our fun and enjoyment and recklessness in order to do right then how can this verse be applied?

I have, many times, heard the term "sacrifice" in relation to what parents do for their own children. They sacrifice their time, their needs, their clean house, etc.  Sometimes people use that word to illustrate how they give up what they want so that someone can have something instead.

But the verse said that the right thing is MORE important than the sacrifice.  But wait, it's the SAME thing!

Obviously, when Solomon used these words in his proverb, he was referring to the physical sacrifice of an animal on an alter.  But surely there are other meanings of that word; meanings that we use all the time:

"I sacrificed my figure when I had kids."

"I sacrificed my dessert so that I could get that figure back."

"I sacrificed my day off so I could help a friend move."

"I sacrificed the comfort of my toes so I could wear these awesome new heels."

In our use of the word "sacrifice" we seem to be giving something up in order to be getting something even better.  And we'll hear the words, "It was worth the sacrifice."

In fact, look at all these famous quotes about sacrificing.

A sacrifice to be real must cost, must hurt, must empty ourselves.  Mother Theresa

Sacrifice is giving up something something good in order to get something better.

Sweat plus sacrifice equals success.  Charles O. Finley

Wow, kinda looks like sacrificing will help us move along and succeed and get things we've always wanted.  But I believe the original intent of that word, found in the Bible, means something almost entirely opposite. (note: the earliest use of the common word sacrifice appears to have been in the 13th century latin language, derived from the translation and meaning of the Hebrew word zebach, which was used in the Bible.)  To sacrifice meant to hand over an innocent animal to be killed as an atonement for our sinfulness.  It was not giving up of ourselves for something better. It was placing our sin on something/someone that didn't deserve it at all.

In that case, our correct use of the original word might sound something like this:

"I sacrificed my neighbor and threw them in front of a bus so I could have their tv."

"I sacrificed my mailman's paycheck so that I could donate to my local food bank."

"I sacrificed my brother's freedom and he went to jail for my crime so I could continue living the good life."

Wow, suddenly the use of this word is painfully self-centered and grossly sinful.  And yet that's what I'm guessing was happening in the days when Solomon wrote that verse.  People were sinning with the promise that all they had to do was sacrifice an innocent animal and their sins would be absolved.  That seems pretty easy.  Shoot, I can go ahead and sin all day if I'm not the one paying the price for my sins.

But the purpose of this innocent sacrifice was to draw people's hearts into love and not into indifference.  It was never meant to be the bandaid that covered up everyone's indiscretions.  It purposed to draw the minds of people toward Jesus' love for us and toward the eternal significance of His innocent sacrifice.

But I feel that we have forgotten the original intent.  We have misused the word to make it about us and how noble we can be in order to obtain something even more valuable.  But it was really all about Jesus to begin with.  When did it even shift?

Keeping all this in mind makes the verse-of-the-day so much more clear:  It would be better to do the right thing than to ask for forgiveness later.  Well, duh.  I know that. And yet the organizers of YouVersion Bible app decided I needed that reminder.

And what a helpful reminder it is because I'll admit that I've considered making reckless mistakes just so that I can see what it's like to "live a little."  In my mind I thought, Oh well, it's not like it's going to ruin me forever.  God can cover a multitude of my sins.  And although God can set my feet on solid ground again, why would I do that to Him?  Why would I disregard the exceptional value of His sacrifice so that I can have my fun?  What kind of bride of Christ would I be if I used the promise of His forgiveness for my sinful pleasure?  A terrible one, that's what kind.  But I love and respect Jesus too much to abuse His goodness and grace in such a self-centered manner.

So what is the right thing to do?  In so many situations, right is relative.  So I guess my answer to that would be that the right thing to do is meet with God; pray to Him; read His word; seek His face.  After that, the right thing will look a little more desirable or easy to identify.

all I really want for Christmas

Ever since my life took a shift in course, my perspectives on what really matters also shifted.  When I walked away, I left many of the worldly things behind.  All the furniture we had collected over 17 years, and all the decor, everything I had spent years collecting and arranging and organizing.

I had gotten to the point where those things mattered so little to me.  And so it didn't really hurt to leave it all behind.  I didn't want it anymore anyway.  Even when the Christmas decorations came to mind, I couldn't see wanting to take them even though I had a killer Christmas tree decked out like one of those fancy ones at the Pottery Barn.  In my opinion, I had never had a more beautiful tree than the one that graced our living room every year.  Each ornament, glass tear drops, diamond gems, sparkling, heavy crackled silver balls, bedeazzled shooting stars, most of them individually purchased from the Pottery Barn over a period of years.  And, of course, lots and lots and lots of sparkling lights!  It was my favorite thing about the Christmas decor.  And yet, I didn't want any of it.  I wondered if maybe I was in a "nothing matters" mood and whether I would regret not taking these things with me.  But it wasn't a mood, it was a new perspective.

And I'm happy to say that the perspective hasn't changed in the last year.  All those things I left behind?  I am free of them and they don't bog me down any more.  Our current tree is small but covered in 600 lights and sprigs of berries.  The simplicity of the tree is a comfort and no longer a distraction.  And I love that.  I am so much more focused on the meaning of Christmas this year than I've ever been.  I don't have the massive amount of Christmas decor that I used to have either (only my village and my nativity; and a wreath on the door).

Every year, in the past, I would deck my halls with boughs of berries, santa soap dispensers, angel and snowman and nutcracker collections, blankets and pillows and special pictures.  And I know that many people do that and I'm not knocking it at all.  In fact, today we are visiting an old neighbor who decorates her home like an absolute wonderland.  I think it's lovely and I celebrate those that do that.  It's just not for me anymore.  All those things seemed to weigh me down and overwhelm me.  I used to get to the point (around mid December) when I couldn't hardly wait to put all the Christmas crap away and get my house back to normal.  I don't know why I found it necessary to overwhelm myself with the busy things of Christmas that had no value, to the point where it actually made me sick.  It was like I was just doing all the things I was supposed to be doing; all the things that a good homemaker does for the holidays.  But I'm so free now and I feel like a million bucks.  This is my 2nd minimalist Christmas and I'm still absolutely loving it.  In fact, I feel bogged down even with my village.  I would be happy with just a little tree and my nativity.  But I hand-painted every house in my village and I feel like that dictates that it should be meaningful or something.

So this minimalist approach to Christmas has been so rewarding.  This is the first year that I have ever felt exceptionally fulfilled during the holiday season.  I have spent more time on family and friends, building relationships and treasuring the gift of the season, enjoying the music, teaching my kids about God's sacrifice and not focusing on the gift buying.  So, if you don't get a gift from me this Christmas, it's not because I don't love you or value you, it's because I'm having a hard time seeing the value in the material things we exchange and I'd rather share an experience with you than buy you something pretty.

So many of us read the Christmas stories of yesteryear when a single gift was exchanged with someone they loved.  A gift that was thoughtful, meaningful, significant, and purchased or made with sacrifice.  Today, the kids are overwhelmed with the amount of gifts they get and it's really quite disturbing for them.  One year, Christmas was spent with a larger portion of the family, my kids started to whine and fuss, "We don't WANT to open another present!  There's too many!"  I know that sounds crazy for kids to say but it is possible to flood them with meaningless stuff and that kind of messes up their sense of true north, you know what I'm saying?

One of my most treasured Christmas memories was when my sister and I were left home alone while my parents ran an errand with our little brother.  We laid down in front of the Christmas tree and sang Christmas carols together by only the light of the Christmas tree.  I have treasured that memory in my heart for years and dreamed of someday experiencing something like that year after year.  We didn't sing in parts or anything; we were probably about 8 and 10 years old.  We were just singing and savoring each word from each carol, the sparkling Christmas tree lights shining their colorful lights on the pages of the songs.  I have seen that image in my mind about a million times and every, single time, a warmth grows in my heart and the simplicity of the moment is what brings me peace.

Peace.  Pax.  Linişte.  Pace.

No matter what language you say it in, that's what I really want for Christmas.  Yes, yes, peace on earth and all that jazz, but not just in the general sense. I want peace to reign in my home and in my heart so that wherever I go it can shine out and provide peace amidst the hustle and bustle of what this season has become for the rest of the world.

This morning, as I was writing, my daughter looked at the tree and said, "Mommy, why don't we have a star on the top of our tree?"  I told her that the star was in her heart and that the meaning of the season was not to draw our attention to what stood at the top of the tree but to Who lived inside her heart.  Sure, it might have sounded like a weak excuse for the fact that I just didn't consider a star to be that important.  But she bought it and seemed okay with it.

The only gifts I want for Christmas are the ones that remind me that Christ's peace reigns and His love covers the multitude of our mistakes this last year.  Singing christmas carols with people I love, enjoying the snow in the mountains and standing in awe of His creation, sitting by the light of the fire and reading to my kids.  These are the gifts that will last.  And I'm not just saying it; I'm absolutely serious.  These are the gifts I desire and the memories I will cherish.

Last year, I stood in a cluttered room, among boxes and things and stuff, and yet in the middle of that clutter, three of us were able to dust off our voices, add a guitar, and sing a few Christmas carols about a little baby who changed the world.  And this time we sang in harmony, too!  It was my most treasured memory from last year and the gift that has brought warmth to my heart many times over.  That memory had a greater impact on me than any material gift I received.

And that's all I want for Christmas.  Memories that will elicit reminders of peace.

Stain-resistant

My kids and I received a pack of fresh walnuts from our local farm this week.  As we were opening them up and enjoying the sweet nutty meat, I couldn't help but notice how much care God took in protecting that nut.  I called the kids over to me and said, "Check this out, guys.  See this super shell and the way the nut is so carefully packed inside it with air pockets and everything?  That means this nut is something extremely special!"

I marveled at the care God took to protect this nut and decided that maybe I didn't give nuts enough credit or something.  We often eat nuts with breakfast with fruit, but not every day.  And not every nut is delectable for my kids.  In fact, Jayden was quite sure he didn't like walnuts.  And he's right to say that some of them taste bitter.  But the value and health benefits of the nut, whether it is bitter on the tongue or not, is still in the nut itself.  My daughter and I both enjoyed one nut after another so whenever I would find an especially sweet one, I would share it with my son so that he could develop a liking to the nuts.  Cause, yeah, sometimes I get a bitter one too, but I can still taste the original flavor behind the bitterness since I've had the good ones too.

Besides, if God is going to take this much care for these little nuts, learning to love them might not be such a bad idea.

Next thing you know, I'm taking pictures of the nut and my kids are like, "Um, why are you taking a picture of a nut?"  I had to explain the spiritual significance to them because it was suddenly so obvious to me.

As I was snapping photos, my thoughts wandered to the concept of our stain-resistant skin.  Earlier last summer, my daughter pointed to a large, open lily outside our front door and said, "Mommy, if I touch that middle part, I'm going to stain my hands.  And they will be stained forever!"

I laughed and assured her that her skin would never be stained forever.  I told her that, for some reason, God made our skin stain-resistant.  There is no oil or paint or grease or crayon or marker or pen that can stain our skin.  Even super-glue and nail polish will come off eventually. (tattoos are under the skin, not on it).

As I was pondering the significance of stain-resistant skin, this verse popped into my mind:

The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us.  We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.  John 1:14

At first I was like, "Um, okay, that was an odd, random verse that just popped into my head."  I prepared to search for something else when the word "flesh" kind of stood out.

Flesh.  Isn't that like our skin?

The Word that spoke the universe into existence didn't hesitate to accept the humble form of fallen man.  He chose to become a mass of flesh.

And for the longest time I thought that Jesus was eternally reduced by becoming like one of us. And the sacrifice He made to live for eternity as part human and part divine broke my heart and made me wish we had never done something like this to Him.

But all the sudden, tonight I realize that Jesus has not been reduced.  There's no way that could happen.  He's God.  He cannot be lower than He is, which is the highest of the high.

What He did, instead, was elevate the nature of man.

We are still undeserving of such an act of eternal love, but that didn't stop Him.  He took on our form to announce our value to the rest of the universe.  Our flesh has value; not just our spirit.  He could have done all this "saving-mankind" thing in a spiritual sense.  But He totally didn't.  He went all the way, spirit and flesh and heaven and earth all came together because it is not just our spirits that have eternal value but our flesh too.  So much value that He covered it in stain-resistant skin as a sweet reminder.

For some reason, our flesh is so important, so valuable, that God gently envelops it in something that can't even be stained.  Even scars and injuries will be wiped clean when we enter into His heavenly rest.  Our flesh will be stain and scar-free forever.

But you know who won't be scar-free forever?

Jesus.

He will forever wear the scars of His sacrifice on His flesh.  It is an accepted belief that since Jesus' resurrected body maintained the scars of his crucifixion, He will have them forever (John 20:27), whereas we will have our bodies that will be perfect in heaven (1 Cor 15).

Wow, how can anyone deny that they don't have value? How can anyone deny that someone else doesn't have value?  And if every human being (covered in a layer of stain-resistant flesh) has eternal value, then why aren't we treating each other in a way that illustrates that truth?  Yes, sometimes we come across the bitter ones and we really just want to spit them out.  But if we have learned to really love all of God's creation, we will be able to detect the sweetness even among the unsweetness of each person.

It's kind of a neat, you know?  How so much of God's creation speaks about His love for humanity and His desire to live a life of love.  Even a little nut, all wrapped up in it's own kind of bubble wrap and protective casing speaks to us of our own value.  Well... it does to me, at least.