A Mug of Boiled Water

I can promise you, I'm not happy.  I have only two habits--one of which is extremely annoying--that have stuck throughout the years.  Playing with my hair (that's the annoying one which leaves both my husband and my brother-in-law cringing and renders my hair perpetually uneven in length due to the breakage caused by said habit) and drinking coffee first thing in the morning.  Rain, shine, spring, fall, 100 degrees or twenty, I.drink.coffee.  Preferably two mugs. Supersized ones.  Period.  I have exchanged vanity for coffee stained teeth, and frankly (because I'm sure you'd like to know this) it prevents me from ever needing to buy Metamucil.  So, that's the redemptive thing behind the habit.

When spring climbs her way into the north Georgia mountains sprinkling her colors, her drops of green and blackberry-foam purple on violets, her salmon and sangria on the tulips, I like to be present.  I do not want to miss one millimeter of growth, of new life exploding as she passes by.  I have a routine.
Wake up.
Look out the window and thank God for another day.
Acknowledge Nathan. (who is already awake no matter how early I rise)
Make coffee. (I'm not telling you how many cups.  I already told you about the Metamucil)
Get the dog leash. (By now, Jango is shoving me out the door)
Pour coffee.
Walk Jango . . . while sipping coffee.
View Spring as she drips and drops about the hills . . . while sipping coffee.
Examine her work closely in my garden . . . while sipping coffee.
That's it.  The rest of the day may not commence until I've done this routine.

So I am sure you will understand my dilemma when I tell you that the first month of my personal SEVEN is food.  (If you're wondering what in the world I'm talking about, read my blog post from a couple days ago.)  And guess what God just insisted I give up first?  Yeah, redundant, I know.  Coffee.
Hence the first sentence of this little post.  I'm in an extremely agitated-would-bite-someones-head-off-if-I-wasn't-also-in-deep-brain-fog-due-to-caffeine-withdrawal state. Did I mention I have a headache?

For seven months I will commit to seven different themes.  The purpose will be in essence a fast with the chief aim being to empty myself that Christ might fill me with His thoughts, His desires, His plans, His goals.  Because I really feel strongly about being characterized by what I do and not what I don't do, I've phrased my list for this first month--The Food Month--in this slant.  These are things that, after some prayer and good old fashioned honesty with myself, (Yes, self, you are indeed a greedy glutton.) I want to commit a month to pursuing.

1. Do eat organic/unprocessed foods (With a budget that lacks wiggle room, the organic part is going to have to be a little flexible, but I will give it a hearty attempt.  Does anyone know if Ramen Noodles come unprocessed and organic?)

2. Do eat only whole grains. (Sadness.  I'm baking fresh  WHITE bread tomorrow for a friend's birthday, and I would normally double the batch and keep a loaf for us.)

3. Do eat fruit/veggie with every meal, and only fruits and veggies for snacks.  (Here I will try to use things from my garden every day.  We are in salad season, so this will help offset some of the organic cost since I keep my garden pretty much organic.)

4. Do walk away from caffeine. (I’m going to die, starting now.)

5. Do walk away from all sweeteners. (This month has nothing to do with dieting for me.  There have been times--like when Cort left a few of his infant pounds in my stomach after he was born--when I needed to kick sugar to the curb from a calorie standpoint.  This is different.  I'm leaving sweetness, period.  I think to live in hunger must be a very bitter thing, and I don't want to sweeten this month artificially, organically, or any other way.  I love sweets.  Have you ever seen my pictures?  My profile picture on facebook was a cake for 2 months for crying out loud! Ignoring that box of Krispy Kremes, the homemade sour cream coffee cake, and the two logs of double chocolate cookie dough in my freezer will be a very...VERY constant reminder of the blessings I have, and the hunger of over 85% of the world.)

6. Do eat before 7PM (I chose 7 PM for obvious reasons—seven. Also, because it gives us time to get late dinners in.  We aren't much of a schedule family so I’m not going to be legalistic about supper. The real reason I'm choosing to do this is because I want to cull the savory snacks I treat myself to when the boys have finally settled under their IKEA comforters for the night.  I hesitated on this particular one because I didn't want it to be about not eating after seven.  You always hear you shouldn't do that if you are dieting.  But this is NOT a diet.  The bottom line is this is a snack I don't need--a luxury--and there are children in the world who don't get snacks period. I want to feel that.  I want to go to bed a little bit hungry.  I want, somehow, in some small, microscopic, way to understand what it means to go without something I want.)

7. Do read either In Defense of Food: An Eater’s Manifesto or Animal Vegetable Miracle: A year of Food Life (I did the Omnivore's Dilemma thing and it was great for about the first three chapters.  Then I started falling asleep.  He made his point . . . more than once.  I'm hoping these books will give me a little more understanding of the reality of what we eat and its impact on the world as a whole and on my family's bodies too.)

I also hope to visit or view online a processing plant for meat. And I intend to take one day each week and attempt to eat like the poor of Haiti, Honduras, Guatemala and Ecuador. These are four countries that pinch at my heart.  This part I will do with the boys; we'll go online to learn more about the conditions of these particular nations.  And speaking of the boys, so far, they've been very kind.  I had anticipated them giving me the mom, you are going to slowly torture us for an entire month? look, but they haven't.  Already, they're willing to quit the processed/fast food stuff for the month, though one of them is begging for the remaining Dr. Bob (I know, I'm cheap) that's been sitting on the counter over a week.

Basically, I've chosen to do food for a few reasons.  One--I'm a glutton, and I know it.  Two--every five seconds a child dies from hunger or preventable disease.  I need to get my head wrapped around that from a compassion standpoint.  I also need to process that fact in light of the fact that I just might be able to sponsor a child from Compassion if I am willing to eliminate/drastically reduce consumption of things like coffee.  Three--Jen Hatmaker says in her book Seven that we get to vote every day with our fork.  And we do.  I do.  I'm guilty of supporting some not so great, definitely not ethical (But who cares about animals and the environment...right? Apparently God.) practices when it comes to growing and butchering meat.  When I eat foods laden with high fructose corn syrup, again, I'm voting.  And I need to explore that from a stewardship of my body and the earth standpoint.

I have no idea where I will land, and I'm not making any granola'ish promises that I will become a wild mushroom, poke salad eating vegan.  That's pretty unlikely.  Some of you may think I'm a little off my rocker and others of you may be thinking my SEVEN are pretty lame.  No matter--you don't have to read :-)  I really debated even posting any of this.  Do they even care about this sort of thing?  Do they want to read about my addiction to coffee and sweets?  Does anyone read the blog at all?Probably not.  But, maybe, just maybe there are a few of you out there who understand where I'm coming from.  See for me, food can be my life, and my only concern is that I don't get too fat. (What? I'm being honest.)  So, if I eat what I want, have a jog, and can still fit in my Ann Taylor jeans, then it's all good.  But is it?  Really?  Because for some people in our world, food really is their life.  And they haven't any.  And Jesus said He came that they might have life.  Dare I withhold the very thing Christ came to give?  I stole this Thomas More quote from a friend's facebook page because he says it better than me.  “It's wrong to deprive someone else of a pleasure so that you can enjoy one yourself, but to deprive yourself of a pleasure so that you can add to someone else's enjoyment is an act of humanity by which you always gain more than you lose.”

A theme for me this month will be this verse.

"Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; 20 you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your body,"  (II Cor. 6:19-20)

You are not your own.

Really?  Because I'm afraid I've been eating like I am entirely my own and that I'm entitled to have what I want.  I'm afraid I've eaten from a vain perspective instead of a tending of the frame that God crafted approach.

Therefore honor God with your body.

The choices I make either honor my God or mar His image.  Just because I can get away with eating whatever I want from a physical standpoint doesn't mean I have honored God.  And if what I eat causes another person to have less, than I have in fact, dishonored Him.

So, here I am beginning.  Already today while sipping my boiled water from a Tim Horton's (the best coffee place in the world for my American friends who don't know) mug, I doubted this entire thing.  Why would anyone want to torture themselves?  God allowed me to be born in North America; He must have wanted me to have these things.  At church tonight I had to bring my own supper because I wasn't very confident that their meal would be SEVEN approved.  Someone immediately noticed my organic Greek yogurt and said . . . and I kid you not, "Yogurt? Really?  You live in North America with all these choices and you pick yogurt?"  (She had no idea I was doing this . . . otherwise she'd have been a thousand percent supportive.)  But, it proves my point exactly.

I do live in North America ,and I have so many choices that I no longer understand what it means to live without any choices.  Here we are in what some call Holy Week . . . those sacred days that we've placed on the calendar to remind us of the brokenness of Christ.  Surely Jesus ached with thoughts of what He would face, what He would endure that we might have life. 

 "For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, so that you through his poverty might become rich."  (II Cor. 8:9) 

He became poor.  Gave up.  Sacrificed.  Relinquished.

That I might gain the riches of eternity.

May I become poor that someone else may gain those same blessings.

Amen.

SEVEN: A New Kind of Fast

     I like to blame things on my parents.  They gave me their genes--wide feet, chubby cheeks (all four), and the-caterpillar-for-eyebrows.  Thanks for that, Mom and Dad.  They nurtured me too.  That meant tea parties with Mom, endless hours soaking sun at the lake (so yeah, that's gonna mean skin cancer), loving food, loving the outcasts and misfits (never a holiday where we didn't sit elbow to elbow with some eclectic conglomeration of people who may not have had any other place to celebrate that year), and loving Jesus.  With Dad it has always been about the underdogs of the world.  His heart is tender; he cries over chickens squashed in cages and about went bankrupt feeding stray cats who I swear migrated from all six other continents when they heard he was filling Rubbermaid bins with food for them.  He is color blind for real, but it wouldn't matter if he could see color correctly.  He still wouldn't see it.  The world, for him, is shaded by justice, inequality/equality, and thinking critically about what we believe to be true.  So, what you are about to read is entirely their fault.  You've been warned.
      I just can't accept status quo.  I can't NOT rock the boat.  Not in my nature.  I think about things. (I explained this in the first paragraph.)  For quite some time now I've been uncomfortable with a few things--namely, I don't go hungry, nor do my children, but starvation manages to murder a child every five seconds, I live in a large, comfortable, 72 degree house while almost 1.5 million (can't even fathom that number) were without shelter in 2011 in the US alone, and a few pesky verses like that one about how religion that's pure and faultless tends to look after widows and orphans, and there are something like 15 million without mother or father in the world. So, while most of us are thinking about where we are taking our annual beach vacay, I'm haunted by the justice gene, the loving of the downtrodden gene, and I can't manage to pull the trigger on all the new GROUPON vacation bargains to viva la Mexico.  Thanks, Mom.  Thanks, Dad.  
      In reality, I'm a tough nut to crack.  God has to peel back the scales that seal my eyes to the truths of His Word and how He intended them to be applied.  If I'm being honest, both spiritually speaking and economically speaking, in comparison with the rest of the world, I'm a saturated sponge.  Completely saturated.  I grew up in church, learned to read using the King James Bible as my primary text, and I've never gone hungry a day in my life.  Never.  So, that puts me in a privileged category.  Privileged and so full, I can't always fathom what it means to need, to want, to hunger, to thirst.  And in a spiritual sense, I've read the red words of Jesus so many times, heard the sermons so many times, sung the songs, that they have become like white noise in the background.  So, God has to peel back these scales, cause a bit of a ruckus until I'm raw, squeeze the sponge until it thirsts again for Living Water.
     Enter a chance post from a dear Canadian friend (Hi, Dani!) that linked me to a random blog that tugged at scales like you tug at a Band-Aid when you're trying to rip it off fast.  Ouch and Wow!  It was here, at Jen Hatmaker's website that I first saw her book Seven: an experimental mutiny against excess.  (Leave me alone grammar police; she didn't capitalize the letters in her title, and she has an editor!  K?)  Jen's premise?  We have far more say in what happens in our world than we realize.  We vote everyday with our wallets, with our forks, with our garbage, with our time.  We are called to love God and love others, and we are doing a shoddy job at best.  She started with herself and decided to commit seven months to purge seven specific areas of excess in her life.
     Her words:  "I started praying about what God wanted; what would move me closer to His agenda and further from mine?  How could this be meaningful, not just narcissistic and futile?  What areas needed the most renovation?  How am I blind and why?  Where have I substituted The American Dream for God's kingdom?  What in my life, in the lives of most westerners, is just too stinking much?

• Food
• Clothes
• Possessions
• Media
• Waste
• Spending
• Stress

     Seven months, seven areas, reduced to seven simple choices.  I'm embarking on a journey of less.  It's time to purge the junk and pare down to what is necessary, what is noble.  7 will be an exercise in simplicity with one goal:  to create space for God's kingdom to break through.
     I approach this project in the spirit of a fast:  an intentional reduction, a deliberate abstinence to summon God's movement in my life.  A fast creates margin for God to move."  (pg. 4)
    How am I blind and why?  Mmmm.  Most people unable to see are aware of their deficiency, but I'm afraid I've been a blind gal thinking she knew where she was going.  And when Jesus said, "Seek Ye first the Kingdom of God," (Matt. 6:33) I'm afraid I understood Him to mean, "As long as you seek me a lot, squeeze in everything else you possibly can, Sarah."
     Where have I substituted the American Dream for God's kingdom?  Okay, I'm reading Radical for the second time through.  This whole American Dream vs. God's kingdom business?  Just.Starting.To.Sink.In.  Just starting.  I don't even know if I should say it's sinking in--remember the saturated sponge problem?  We can spend so much time listening, reading, hearing about God loving us that we become sopping,heavy, wet with love and yet it is that very love that "compels us" (II Cor. 5:14) to motion.  Mary, sweet Mary (I kinda hate her) may have chosen the more excellent thing when she sat, soaking at Jesus' feet, but I can promise you that if she remained at his feet, he would have eventually told her to get up, go pick up her cross, and FOLLOW Him.  Surely He didn't praise her choice because she was sitting; I have to believe it had to do with the fact that she was filling herself up.  But, fellow Americans, our threshold for fullness is broken.  We are so prone to excess we no longer even know how to stop feeding.  We are a engorged people.  I am an engorged woman.
     Follow Me.   "If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me."  (Luke 9:23)  Jesus called us into action, motion.  And in truth, He modelled it for us, didn't He?  At the cross?  Like dressing the the sun or the moon, Christ clothed his holiness in the cloak of mortality, and walked among wayward, willful, wandering humanity.  And though there were only a few steps up the Golgotha's hill where carried his crucifixion cross, he had carried it his entire earthly life, hadn't he?
     So I'm thinking of His words--the follow me words--and wondering, where?  Where will I follow Him?  When I was young I thought the ultimate test of my willingness to follow would be geographical.  Would I go to Africa?  Would I?  But now I'm not so sure.  It turns out Africa might have been easier for me than denying myself here in the have-it-your-way-right-away culture of North America.  In fact, it turns out, you can run clear across the globe shouting the salvation of Jesus and never once pick up your cross and follow Him. 
     And what, my friends, if that's me?  Plucking at keys and yakking in small groups and I'm only a resounding gong, a clanging symbol whose sound causes Christ to cringe?
     What if when we post Joshua's Words in walnut frames on the walls of our homes, "As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord..." (Joshua 24:15) we are foolish enough to think that our commitment to go to church on Sunday, maybe teach a Sunday School class, attend a small group, and tithe exactly ten percent reads as a life of solidarity with the man who obeyed God in CRAZY ways (Would you fight a battle by walking around some city walls in silence repeatedly, day after day?)  when in reality we are really hiding behind a modern version of the Mosaic Law?   Solidarity?  I'm thinking not.
     What if I raise my hands in worship on Sunday, but my life is a pair of hands clenched into fists grasping, gripping, groping for my American Dream when the world is hungry for true worship.  The worship of a life lived out of love.  A life of motion.  A life that sacrifices in this life to gain that which cannot be taken in the next life.
     What if I'm a part of a corporate body of Christ that has gone into a sugared-life induced coma and we lay, lifeless, motionless while the world dies?
     What if my two cup of coffee a morning habit is the cause of a Compassion child NOT being sponsored because I say there's no room in the budget.  I mean are you kidding me?  I can't give up coffee in this temporary life so a child will have a chance to live, period? To one day hear of Jesus' love?  I mean don't the rivers flow Columbian brew in heaven?  Could I not wait 'til eternity to continue the habbit? Yeah, what if?
     I read her entire book in a very short amount of time.  (Okay, it may have been a good distraction from the ten million pages of our Family Book Club book, Atlas Shrugged.  Sorry, guys, I'll get back to it, I promise.)  You should too. (Read her book--The verdict's still out on Atlas)  Go here to find out more about SEVEN.  Three words in and I knew I'd have to do this.  Knew I needed to do this.  Knew God brought me to this.  And the timing is perfect.  One week before Easter, I'm a little late for Lent, but maybe I'm right on time to Follow Him into the Garden.  I see Him there, praying.  I see his face, washed red with blood vessels broken--a foreshadowing of what would come.  I see Him there, releasing every single ounce of personal ambition and desire.  My Savior, planting surrender.  My Savior, watering it with drops of bloody sweat so it would grow into a ransom for my muddy mired heart, and not just for mine, but for mankind's.
     I too want that level of surrender, and I wonder if a fasting time might not be the way to train myself.  In her book, Jen Hatmaker says, "After saying "no" to things I wanted for nearly a year, I guess I gained some control over my emotions and impulses.  God used fasting as a tool to curb my appetites and regulate my reactions.  It was a concise realization:  "Something in  me has deeply changed." 
     Perhaps this is why Scripture calls us to the practise of fasting--from food, from greed, from selfishness, from luxuries.  It isn't just the experience; it's the discipline.  It changes us.  Fasting helps us develop mastery over the competing voices in our heads that urge us toward more, toward indulgence, toward emotional volatility.  Like consistent discipline eventually shapes our children's behavior, so it is with us.  Believe it or not, God can still change us.  Not just our habits but our hearts.  Say "no" for a year and see for yourself." (Seven, pg. 219)
     I'm going to see for myself, friends.  Along the way, I hope to share with you what I'm learning, what I'm seeing.  For now, I'm standing aware of the thousands of competing voices demanding I seek them first, but my hands are open, my ears are strained.  I'm listening for the still, small voice.

Pray with me:
Lord, what are my SEVEN? 

In The Hill Country

"Are you overwhelmed, Sarah?" It was my sister's question and I answered like any self-respecting prideful human being would answer. "No." Liar. Of course I'm overwhelmed, but who ever wants to admit that? Thankfully, my sister is in tune enough to know the truth and kind enough to let me phrase it anyway I want. "It's not that I'm overwhelmed, I just know I have a lot to do." Translation--I'm overwhelmed. All of us have seasons when there are significant time consuming things that we must accomplish. There aren't any real choices--they are largely non-negotiable items. I'm not talking about little things like whether or not we should attend the staff Christmas party or whether or not we should go to the tree lighting ceremony--we have them too. But throughout life there are seasons when our day is literally filled from the moment we pull the duvet out from under our chins to the moment we place it, wearily, back again an the pillow cradles our heads. Generally, though, my seasons like this do not come at Christmas. I've always tried very hard to guard against that. This year however, I have four major things happening simultaneously, none of which have anything to do with Christmas and all of which are life impacting situations. And there's probably no magazine article on how to have a stress free Christmas that will help at this point--I've cut out, reduced and minimized where I can. Painful reductions too, I might add. There are friends and even family I haven't had time to call and a co-op we had to pull the kids from for the next semester and ministries we've said, not now to. It's a delicate balance between admitting, yes, I'm overwhelmed, and asking someone to play the violin while I sing my carol of Christmas woe for any who will lend their ears. The latter is not my intention. Trust me! But the line between being honest, transparent even and pulling up my boots, pointing my nose into the air and denying any need at all seems blurry at times. After all, aren't the good Christians never overwhelmed or dare I say stressed out? I hesitate even to use that word because we are told to be "anxious for nothing." Then too there is the line of thinking that travels along the vein of looking around at the others in my life. They have so many more things with which to deal. And they do. I look around at my family and friends, my church and our community and then beyond to places like Africa where a child is orphaned every fourteen seconds and I ask myself how I could dare use the word overwhelmed in relation to my own life. But then I read the words of Psalm 121, "I lift my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come," and the heat of wet tears insist on filling my eyes. Admittedly there are hills in other people's lives that are greater, higher than those in my own. But to deny there are any hills?Well, my tears seem to say what my mouth is too proud to utter. I have some hills and I'm a little afraid they're bigger than I can handle. I don't know if i should dig deeper and keep going or if perhaps I've somehow taken a wrong turn. Are these hills present because of a poor decision or are they softly lain in my path to strengthen my legs for the next mountain in the distance? Someone asked me, "How are you doing everything?" I responded, "I'm just putting one foot in front of the other." I wanted to say something marvelously spiritual like, "Well, God has just infused me with this abundance of energy and everyday I wake up in fast forward and just go go go! Praise the Lord!" But I'm just not that good of a story spinner. I already tried to tell my own sister I wasn't overwhelmed. Let's just be honest--there's no abundance of energy at my house this season. I do however, have enough. Enough for each day. Enough for each new task--each new requirement. And I'm reminded of the Israelites and their manna; always enough for that day. Never anymore. And I'm thankful for that because somehow there is security and beauty in knowing that God is so in love with me that He is determined to affix and fuse my heart to His in a trusting relationship. As though He has been whispering to my spirit, "I am enough, Sarah. El Shaddai. Trust me. I will be enough tomorrow too. I will because I AM." The second verse of Psalm 121 says, "My help comes from the Lord, the Creator of heaven and earth!" It goes on to say, "The Lord is your protector; the Lord is the shade at your right hand. The Lord will protect you from all harm; he will protect your life. The lord will protect you in all you do, now and forevermore." When I look around I'm tempted to compare my situation to the circumstances of many around me--measure my hills and their hills. I always come up short. That's a slippery slope I can assure you. I always walk away from a comparison session feeling as though all the other Christians are more worthy. Somehow they manage to handle everything and I get a little speed bump in the pathway and want to throw a hissy fit. That's why the author of Hebrews says, "Therefore since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, we must get rid of every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and run with endurance the race set out for US, keeping our eyes fixed on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith." (Hebrews 12:1) We all have our hills at some point and God's direction is that we keep our eyes on the face of the man who climbed Golgotha's hill. We hold our hands to the sides of our face and force tunnel vision upon ourselves. We insist that the face of Jesus is all we need to see because He already endured and conquered and everyone's hills pale in comparison to His. We look into His eyes and we do exactly what I said to my friend--put one foot in front of the other. Again and again. I'm like Paul when he said, "I'm not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned (in my case, am learning) to be content in any circumstance." (Phil. 4:10) I'm content in this hill country--not because I'm into mountain climbing per se but because I know that the presence of El Shaddai is in these hills and where He is, there I want to be also. I say these things because I know there have to be a few of you who can relate. Most of you I know are probably far more together than I. And that's okay. But for those who find themselves in the hill country for a season or perhaps have a loved one making a solo trek through an Everest in their life, may you know that for a believer we have an "ever present help in times of trouble." We have a God who will "supply all our needs" and we "shall not want." Those are the truths on which we must walk. Just after Paul instructed the believers of Philippi not to be anxious about anything he says, "And the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus." That's the very peace Jesus said He came to give, "Peace I leave with you, my peace I give to you; I do not give it to you as the world does. Do not let your hearts be distressed or lacking in courage." (John 14:27) I'm determining in my spirit that I'll not deny Jesus His purpose in coming--especially at this Christmas season. Paul must have known that there were a few like myself back then that needed a little practical help in this area because he goes on to explain just exactly what they should do. First of all in every situation we find the time--scratch that--make the time to pray and petition God. Then we thank Him ahead of time for what we know based on His word He is able to do and make all of our requests to Him. I'm okay with that part. I'm pretty good about starting my day off with prayer--some face to face time with my Father. But then Paul continues, and this, I believe is the kicker for some of us ornery followers. "Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is worthy of respect, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if something is excellent or praiseworthy, think about these things...And the God of peace will be with you." (Phil. 4:8) That passage brings us full circle. The only person worthy, true, pure, lovely, excellent and praiseworthy is Jesus. Fix our eyes on Jesus. A WAY in a manger. Jesus. The WAY in a manger. THE WAY through the hills of our lives. If you are climbing this season when you'd rather be sitting by the fire sipping cider and nibbling gingersnaps may you know that there is a way through and you are not alone. Pray with me: Jesus, You are the way. I acknowledge that in you there is a path for my life, in you there is hope, in you there is peace. Jesus I honor you this season not because you took trouble from my life but because you understand it and walk with me through it. Jesus I honor you because You are worth trusting. If like the wisemen, I could lay a gift at your feet, it would be my trust. Help me to fix my gaze on who You are and not where I am. Amen.

Freeze--part 2

Last night we were playing dark hide and seek outside with our children. This game happens to be a personal favorite of mine. Corty, our youngest is an incredible hide and seek player himself, but playing under the cover of darkness is frightening for him. Last night he said to me as we were huddled into a corner, "Mommy, we have to be still as statues." Yes, we do--or we are found out. Corton was willing to be still as a statue as long as he was cradled in my arms, but had I put him down, he would have gone running as fast as he could for what he was most comfortable with--the light of the house. He chose to trust me though and loved every moment of our game. Choosing to trust God when obeying Him doesn't fit what we want or what we see as the most sensible choice is an act of faith--acting on evidence not seen or emotions not felt. The result of choosing to trust will always be blessing, but let's be honest, the courage to make that choice is sometimes very difficult to muster. When it comes to trust I tend to struggle with two different veins--trusting God with our past and trusting God with present circumstances that go against what common sense would dictate. My husband and I often reflect on the decisions of our past and wonder "what if" we had done this or that. In those moments we have a choice to make--do we trust the sovereignty of God even in decisions that appear to have been wrong and claim the truth of Romans 9 that He does indeed work all things together for our good or do we wallow in frustration over outcomes in life of which we aren't certain? When it comes to the present circumstances in which we often find ourselves, it is challenging for me to stare down a situation and then look at God and say without hesitation, your ways are better. Today, I'd like to discuss trusting God with present circumstances and Lord willing tomorrow I'll discuss trusting God with our past. Yesterday I wrote about the freeze-tag games of the heart--how Jehoshaphat guided his people to victory by fasting, prayer and then a willingness to obey God and be still while God fought the battle they faced. I just know if I had been there I would have created dissension among the ranks of the people. "Guys, I think our king has really lost perspective. He's not being responsible. We need to be prepared. Let's at least arm ourselves and hide our women and children. Don't you think that's the most prudent decision? Our children are a stewardship from God--we need to take them to a cave somewhere and put guards out front. Then we can go to the place of battle." Can't you hear me saying that? Apparently though, the people just obeyed God without question. Nowhere in this account does scripture mention even one individual who disagrees or dares to argue with the direction the nation takes. God spoke. They trusted and obeyed. Walk with me through the scriptural path of this story beginning in verse 18 of II Chronicles chapter 20. God had just told Jehoshaphat and his people tomorrow you will go out to battle and you won't fight, but you'll win. At this point, I would have said, 'wait a minute. we need to check our reception. I don't think we heard Him right.' But Jehoshaphat "bowed down with his face toward the ground, and all the people of Judah and the residents of Jerusalem fell down before the Lord and worshipped him." In our families, we can set the ball rolling when it comes to the act of trusting God. When we get down on our faces before God and worship--declare to God His worthiness to be trusted--we are laying the footwork for blessing. Obedience precedes blessing every single time in scripture. I hesitate to say that because I never want anyone to misunderstand me and think I am saying that God will give us red convertibles and fancy houses if we obey Him. I hope you know my heart when I say that God cannot give us the abundance His word promises unless we place ourselves in a position ready to receive His outpouring. We must be on our knees in submission, surrender and worship in order to receive from God. As a mother, I realize that often I set the tone for response to circumstances in our home. When uncomfortable things happen it's me who needs to immediately acknowledge God in that circumstance--the children will follow suit just as the people of Judah followed Jehoshaphat's lead. Mommy's are so good at putting children to sleep. We cradle them in our arms, whisper "shhhhh, shhhhh, close your eyes" into the lobes of their soft ears and we sing quiet songs of peace as they drift off to a place where they are completely safe. This is in effect what we do when we guide our family to the feet of God. "Shh, close your eyes. You are safe. Let's go to our heavenly Father. Shhh." We need to practise the art of lulling our family to peaceful slumber in the arms of A Mighty God. Right after they fell on their faces before God, some Levites got up and the Bible says they "loudly" praised the Lord. (19) The concept of pre-praise seems presumptuous to me. I'd sure hate to be made a fool of. Remember Y2K? All those sincere individuals who insisted the world was coming to an end and we needed to be prepared? Members of my family gathered kerosene heaters and barrels of fuel and filled closets with canned goods. They were prepared. In the end we found ourselves celebrating with friends toasting in the new year as the clock struck twelve and nothing happened but the sound of clanking glasses and blissful wishes for a new year. Wouldn't it be so embarrassing to start praising the goodness of God in a situation only to have him refuse to exercise His power? It would be, yes. But, God's not an abandoner--He doesn't hang us out to dry. He is faithful to His Word and we need to become pre-praisers so confident in the abilities of our Heavenly Father that with boldness we say to our friends and family, "God is good and we know He will make a way in this situation." We can't know what way He will make--only God knows the plans He has for us--but we can know they are good. The next morning scripture says they marched out and Jehoshaphat reassured them with a tender address. "Oh Judah...trust in the Lord your God and you will be safe!" (20b) He understood there must have been a few Sarah's in the group just shaking in their boots. Have you ever said to your children at bedtime when they are feeling frightened and alone, "Oh, Johny, you are safe little one." If you were here with me and we were sitting knee to knee and face to face, I'd look into your eyes and speak the same to you and whatever situation you or your loved ones are facing. "Dear friends, trust in the Lord your loving Father and you will be safe. You will be okay." We need to hear those words. We need to speak those words and we need to believe them. Then Jehoshaphat made the conscious choice to appoint people to make music of praise to God declaring His splendor. Remember, he did this before the battle had been won. And they sang, "Give thanks to the Lord, for his loyal love endures." (21b) Sometimes the thing that gets my faith really moving is good praise music. I can turn a CD on and the Spirit of God can gently massage the fear from my heart like a masseuse rubs the tension and kinks out of a weary back. We need to be intentional about choosing praise before we've found resolution in the events of life. I firmly believe there is a direct correlation between the choice to praise and the movement of God. Verse 22 says, "When they began to shout and praise, The Lord suddenly attacked." They may have been afraid, they may not have agreed or even understood how this battle was going to be won, but they trusted the goodness and power of God, they obeyed His clear directions, and they praised His loyalty and faithfulness before He ever moved one finger against their enemy. And as the sound waves of their praise rose to the heavens like the fragrance of a burning sacrifice the mighty hand and outstretched arm of God came down and obliterated every single breath from their enemy. Hebrews 13:15 says, "...let us continually offer up a sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of our lips, acknowledging his name. And do not neglect to do good..." Oh, how we need to choose the sacrifice of praise and then simply obey. I told you yesterday that God has allowed two situations in our life recently that call for a freezing of my spirit as I stand steady and still awaiting the moving of God. Those situations also call for pre-praise. Today, I am choosing to declare the goodness, the faithfulness, the ableness of God in these areas. He will move. I have no idea how He will act--what He will do, but He is good and His loyal love endures forever. Of that I am as confident as I am of the air I breath. I am waiting to see a display of God's heavenly fireworks and I know they will be spectacular!

Freeze Part 1

I'm frozen--not moving, that is--and it's the most powerful position I've ever been in. A few weeks back my brother and sister in law sent out an email telling us that the passports they were supposed to be receiving in a foreign country were not coming through. She's expecting and they need the passports for travelling home to North America. Things are always sticky in these countries and it seems nothing is ever cut and dry. Apparently people can be denied several times before they ever receive proper documents. But then, they sent another email informing us they had heard from someone that their passports were going to come through after all. He said in this email: we did nothing but pray. It was unexplainable because they had not called and tried to get someone to pull some strings, they had not made any move at all--just prayed. That sentence--we did nothing but pray--just wedged itself into my heart and wiggled around until there was enough room for it to take root. I loved it. I thought about it. I mulled over it. Well known for making a few calls and getting things done, this is slightly contrary to my nature. In a similar situation about ten years ago when my husband and I were fast approaching our wedding with a fiancee visa application languishing amidst the red tape of immigration services, I was found on the phone to the president's office. Before all was said and done the president's personal secretary and I were on a first name basis. Ironically, we didn't get that paperwork--not even the president of the United States can help you when God is not fighting the battle. The difference between what happened with my brother and sister-in-law and what happened to my husband and I many years prior is simple--one battle was God's and the other was not. When God has a purpose there is nothing and no one who can thwart, change, alter or effect His intentions. We weren't trying to go against God--we just didn't have His master plan and weren't aware of what He would accomplish. We had prayed for His direction and He faithfully gave it to us through a closed door. What I want to talk about though is that sometimes God calls us to freeze in order to move mightily on our behalf. As a little girl I loved to play freeze tag outside our churchyard after Sunday evening services. The air would be thick like sweet tea and lightning bugs would join in our game dodging our lanky legs and arms as we chased each other down. We'd run from the bigger kids and inevitably they'd tag us. Then, we'd freeze. Only in the frozen moments would we catch our breath for the rest of the game. We couldn't move until someone else freed us from that position--all we could do was breath. And breath we did--we'd been running our little hearts out and we'd suck oxygen in like a thick milk shake until we were ready to run again. At some point, someone would come along and touch us and off we'd run again into the night. That was a childhood game, but in life sometimes the most powerful position we can ever be in is the frozen one. It's there that we catch our breath, gain perspective on what's happening around us and it's in that position that someone else is doing the running while we wait to be freed. This week two major things came up that set my feet to moving--I was ready to deal with both of them right away. Before the phone call that delivered the first news had ended I had a mental list of how I'd alter my day to accomplish the resolution of this situation. But that sentence from my brother-in-law's email came to me, special delivery from the Holy Spirit I'm sure. And I paused. Pray, Sarah. Just pray. Freeze. So, pray I did. Again and again. And then of course I did what any sane girl with four sisters would do--I called one of them. I love the phone a friend feature in life, don't you? Besides, that wasn't doing anything...that was just talking. (I know I still have much to learn) My sister said to me point blank, "Sarah, if it were me, I'd just wait. You don't need to do anything right now. Just wait and pray. Be ready, but wait." Well, when I'm in doing mood see if I call her again. Truly though, I thank God for godly family. Obviously God was speaking to me. I've been tagged and now I'm frozen. Jehoshaphat received a rather shocking bit of news himself during his reign over Judah. Some messengers arrived and informed him that a "huge army is attacking you from the other side of the Dead Sea..." (II Chr. 20:2b) Scripture says "Jehoshaphat was afraid, so he decided to seek the Lord's advice. He decreed that all Judah should observe a fast." (II Chr. 20:3) I love that. Here they are facing an impending attack and he tells them, "Don't eat. We're gonna stop and get advice from God." Hello? What about a Hollywood moment when on a horse reared to the heavens he shouts out, "An army's coming! Ready yourselves! Hide the women and children. Gather the men from your villages. Get your swords! We're going into battle!" None of that. In fact the Bible says, "All the men of Judah were standing before the Lord, along with their infants, wives and children." (II Chr. 20:13) Not only did they not prepare their families for the worst, they actually took the time to gather their families and stand still before the Lord. The most incredible thing we can do as a family in the midst of crisis is get on our knees before God and seek His face. But so often one of us runs to email our friend, another grabs their cell phone to call someone and another gets on google to research a solution. Meanwhile like our rusting landlines, the direct line to God remains unused. How we must grieve His heart to see us darting about in an effort to fight a battle that is not in our hands. When we fight with our man made weapons ignoring the face of God we swing imaginary swords at imaginary enemies because our battle is not against flesh and blood. It's as though God must want to whisper, "Sarah, you missed him. Sarah, that's not your enemy. He's up here. I got him. Sarah, you are fighting against air. Are you tired yet? Lay down your weapons and pray, Sarah. I'll handle it from here." The Israelites were right on the money this time around. They got before God and they prayed a prayer that recounted God's power, acknowledged that He rules over the earth and the heavens, declared His unstoppable strength and in humility they said, "we will cry out to you for help in our distress, so that you will hear and deliver us. We don't know what we should do; we look to you for help." (II Chr. 20:9, 12) I love that they didn't say, "Please, if it's your will deliver us." They were confident that their God would move. And He says to them, "Don't be afraid and don't panic because of this huge army! For the battle is not yours, but God's." I don't think the army was huge to God, but isn't it neat that He acknowledged that to them it was massive. Sometimes the things we face seem so impossible, so insurmountable to our human eyes and yet to God, they are but a vapor. When in God's hands, with a simple flick of his finger or a puff of breath from his lips, they are annhialated, oblitereated, eradicated from our lives. What we need to get is that when the circumstances we face involve in the purposes of God in our lives or the lives of those we love, the battle is not ours. God told the Israelite people, "You will not fight in this battle. Take your positions, stand, and watch the Lord deliver you...don't be afraid and don't panic! Tomorrow march out toward them; the Lord is with you!" (II Chr. 20:17) It was simple. In the end, when the men of Judah arrived on the battle scene, "they saw dead bodies on the ground; there were no survivors!" (II Chr. 20:25) God defeated their enemy before they even arrived. That's the power of God at work accomplishing His purposes for all eternity and He desires to do the very same thing in our lives today. The process was relatively straight forward. The people received bad news of impending battle. They gathered together with their families and fasted and prayed. They acknowledged their dependence on God and His power to act. And then, they stood and watched. God will work in the circumstances of our lives, but we need to get down on our faces before Him and beseech Him to do so. We need to cry out to the God of heaven and earth and declare His strength and ability and claim His power in our lives. We need not panic and begin a frenzy of activity in attempts to resolve situations and shape circumstances to our advantage. I'm not advocating inaction when God calls us to move. God told the Israelites to walk across the Red Sea and they obeyed Him, but what I am saying is that before we run we need to freeze--freeze before our loving and merciful God Almighty and wait for Him to free us to move. God's resolutions are always superior to anything we can accomplish. You know the Bible says it took three entire days for the people to haul off all the plunder--supplies, clothing and valuable items--that they took from the battle they never fought! And when the resolution has come from God, there will be peace. "Jehoshaphat's kingdom enjoyed peace; his God made him secure on every side." (II Chr. 20:30) I'm not promising extreme wealth and perfect harmony from a human standpoint, but I can promise without hesitation that the plunder of a spirit filled with the fruit of a heart committed to God will be more than we can eat in this lifetime. And I know that the peace God will give will be the kind of peace that stands before the armies of our lives and says, "My God is with me and He will give me the victory because this battle is His." So, here I stand, frozen until God chooses to free me. My spirit is in prayer and fasting right now as I expectantly await God's movement. And I know that in this position, I am more powerful than if I were on the phone with the president's secretary and though I don't know the outcome, there is peace on every side. Amen.

Destined for Greatness

"A lot of people are born into greatness, but being great is really a choice." The minister of worship made this statement recently during a Sunday School class and I've been chewing on it all week. Destined for greatness. What a phrase! Look at Moses, Abraham, Esther--all heroes of the faith--all destined for greatness. Yet in each of their lives, they were confronted with the life-changing, history-making, be great or be forgotten choice that ultimately allowed them to fulfill their destiny. Moses had to choose to confront Pharaoh, Abraham had to lay his son down before God on an alter of sacrifice and Esther went before her King at the risk of personal death. They chose to be great. Of course there are others--ones who's destiny was also one of greatness, but, their choices prevented the fullness of their destiny from materializing. Lot's wife opted to look back when greatness lay before her. Saul's legacy as the first King is overshadowed by his multiple attempts to kill David out of fear and jealousy. Even Moses was prevented from entering the very land he helped bring the Israelites upon proving one can be great and have been greater still. What really resonates with me is that generally it's not the big moments that bring us to greatness. Greatness is a series of stair step little decisions that bring us to the next level in our lives. Had Moses of maintained his faith in God instead of repeatedly questioning and doubting, He would have entered the promised land. Despite his overall obedience, in day to day living, he chose to doubt God's worth. Every single choice we make is determining who we become and too often we are so busy that we don't even realize the significance of the small choices we make. Now before you start to think I'm wanting to write motivational articles for a living let me tell you what I think. The idea that we are all destined for greatness can be somewhat misleading because of it's various connotations. It might be more clear to say we were all destined for worship. And a life lived in a steady state of worship will inevitably be characterized as a great one. I've always heard that our singular purpose on earth is to bring God glory and I have believed it. Lately though, I've been mulling over this idea and God has been helping me to flesh out the concept of worship being as natural as taking in air. Louie Giglio in his book The Air I Breathe writes "Worship is our response, both personal and corporate, to God--for who He is! and what He has done! expressed in and by the things we say and the way we live." It's a mouthful, I know, but powerful stuff. Since my memory is about as good as a plugged toilet I had to simplify Giglio's masterful definition into something a little less gourmet. Simply put, worship is acknowledging God's WORTH-SHIP. In every single area of my life, every conversation, every step of action, every choice, every thought I will either worship God or worship something else. But make no mistake, worship will take place. In that, I have no choice. We were made to prioritize. We will always put something on the thrown of our lives. Giglio opens his book with these words, "You, my friend...are a worshiper! There, I said it. Every day, all day long, everywhere you go, you worship. It's what you do. It's who you are." And in truth, that is the very crux of greatness. Who and what we worship will determine the measure of our greatness both in this life and more importantly in eternity. Let me offer some very practical scenarios to put a little flesh on the bones of this idea. Last Sunday morning before church a few things happened (isn't this always the case on Sundays) that left me more than a little frustrated. When my husband came into the room and offered an apology I had a choice--right then and there, before church ever began. Would I worship God or my anger? Is God worth more to me than my silly grudge? If so, then I've worshipped Him. If not, then I've still worshiped by exalting my own anger above my Heavenly Father. A couple months ago we had company and put on a movie. Not two minutes into the movie it was clear the content was completely inappropriate. I was ready to turn it off and normally we would have immediately, but we had company. What would they think? Would they be offended--think us holy-rolling, Bible-thumping, boring duds? Who did we worship? The opinion of our friends? Or would we acknowledge loud and clear that the very God who died to pay for those things portrayed in that movie is worth far more to us than the opinions of man? What about the food I eat? With every bite I put into my mouth, I worship. What about the music I listen to? With every note that rings, I worship. What about the words I speak? With every sound that takes flight off my lips, I worship. The thing is that as I make the conscious choice to worship God I become great. I don't mean great in a prideful sense. But God's will and plan for our lives is for our absolute best and when we choose daily in the little things to worship God, we take steps to greatness. Every single time I obey God's Word, I proclaim with greater volume than any worship chorus the worthiness of God. I lift Him up. I place God in the forefront of my life, my priorities. And in that place, there is protection and safety. When He receives my surrendered choices, God is free to work through me. He is free to renovate and restore my less than perfect life and He is glorified. This is true greatness. There is not more in this life that I could hope for. Paul already talked about all this in Romans 12:1. "Therefore, I urge you brothers, in view of God's mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices--this is your spiritual act of worship." Every time I choose to sacrifice my priorities, my desires, my plans for God's desire, I have worshipped. What God seems to continually be reminding me is that when I'm disobedient I'm no longer worshipping Him. Living a life of Godward worship is as simple as obeying what He has clearly shown me in His word. Don't hold grudges. Be patient. Be gentle. Be self-controlled. Forgive. Forgive again. And Again. Love. Love people. Love unlovable people. Of course these things can be summed up in passages like "Love the Lord you God with all your heart soul and strength and love your neighbor..." but that can be vague. I need to know that when I speak in anger to one of my children I have ceased to worship God. I need to know that while "Oh God you are my God, and I will ever praise you" sings its way through my car's stereo system and I honk my horn at the slow-poke in front me I have ceased to worship God. I need to know that when it's midnight and I'm not hungry but I eat anyway, I've ceased to worship God. Do you follow me? Worshipping God is constantly choosing over and over again in every little area of our lives to say God you and you alone are worth more to me than anything else. That simple. That simple. Paul goes on in the third verse of Romans 12 to say "For by the grace given to me I say to every one of you not to think more highly of yourself than you ought to think, but to think with sober discernment..." My life will tell the story of who I thought most highly of--God or me. The decisions I make daily will tell long before I ever speak a word myself. It's no wonder Jesus said in Luke whoever is least among you --he is the greatest. In Isaiah we read, "These people come near to me with their mouths and honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me." Every time I read those words my heart is pricked with the reality of its contents. How often is my heart so far from God though I would proudly proclaim to the world I am a worshipper? How often would the decisions of my day whisper like Peter the night he denied Christ, "I don't know the man." Perfection isn't what I'm talking about, but what I am saying is that a heart that is near God, a heart that loves Him will reveal itself daily without the mouth ever uttering a word. Paul said later on in chapter 12 of Romans "Love must be without hypocrisy. Abhor what is evil, cling to what is good." True love cannot be a hypocrite. If I love God, the world will know it. And if I love God, I'll choose daily to worship Him. And if I choose daily to worship Him, then greatness is inevitable. Not the kind of greatness that brings me glory, but the kind of greatness that says, "I'm a worshipper. Everything I do is because of Him. Everything I do is enabled by Him. Every aspect of my love is sheltered by Him. Everything good that I've experienced has come through Him. God. God. God. It is He who I praise. He who I proclaim is worthy-- worthy of all of my trust, all of my affection. King of kings and Rock of the Ages. God is worthy." Before the instruments have been tuned, before the microphones have been turned on, before my lips have parted, may mine be a life that sings the tune of God's worthiness. There could be nothing greater. Nothing greater. Listen: Heart of Worship How Great is our God This is the Air I Breath