New roads. New lessons.

Friday, May 8, 2015

A Little Oasis




Have you ever felt like your prayer life has fallen apart? Like you weren't hearing God's voice anymore? Or you just flat ran out of words to say? Or maybe you just were so tired, you didn't even want to muster up the extra energy to even try and say something? That's where I was back in the Fall.

But God, by his grace, placed me in a Prayer class taught by MaryKate Morse. It was by far the best gift God could have given me last semester, because in it, I recognized His Presence, again. He had always been there, but for many reasons, I was failing to see Him, or worse, choosing not to see Him because I didn't like what I saw. Here are some of my reflections from my journey (this was written for my class, so its a bit more "formal" than my usual heart dumps here on the blog). May they be an encouragement to you.

From the Desert to the Garden: A Prayer Journey

As I look back through my Prayer Journal for the semester, I am struck by the jumbled, weedy mess I was. In January, I was in a very hard place, emotionally, physical, and spiritually. Tensions in my home were high. My faith had been teetering for months, and consequently, so had my prayer life. Though I was praying, I would not say I was living a life of prayer. Prayer was something I struggled to do, as “tumbleweeds” of doubt, fear, anger, and resentment blew in the wind of the dry desert of my heart. God’s silence was deafening, and I was tired of straining to hear his absent voice. Truly, the spiritual desert I was in threatened to consume me.
Today, as I sit in quiet reflection, a favorite phrase of the Psalmists, “But God…” comes to mind repeatedly. These simple words often form the bridge between the brokenness of the world and the faithful goodness and love of Almighty God.  They are spoken after the Psalmist has verbally worked through the praises, challenges, joys, and persecutions of life.
Though the days have been challenging, here at the end of the semester, I can say, “But truly God has listened; he has given heed to the words of my prayer(s)” (Psalm 66:19, NRSV) offered over and over the past 2 years.  In his grace, God placed me in this class, at just the right time. He knew I did not need easy fixes, but rather options, discipline, and accountability. He knew the soil of my heart needed weeding and tilling. He knew I needed to repent, forgive, release, heal, and trust. He knew I needed other ways of reaching out to him, because the old ways did not seem to be working anymore. He knew that in order to move me from a place of prayer being something I did, to who I am, I would need a plethora of ways to engage with him throughout the minutes of the day, so as to fully grasp the depth and meaning of Paul’s words, “Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you” (1 Thes 5:16-18, NRSV).
Throughout this semester, God has been planting seeds in my heart, seeds that he has profoundly nurtured with light and living water to produce new life. Some prayer seeds settled deeper and have grown more than others. Those that have had the most growth include Breath Prayer, Creative Prayer, and Prayer of Inner Healing.
Of all the prayers experienced this semester, the seed of Breath Prayer has grown most quickly. I have found that these simple, yet profound little prayers can be easily woven into the days, as naturally as the act of breathing itself. God is answering my often tear filled breath prayers in beautiful ways.  My first breath prayer, “Sweet Jesus, free me,” has been repeated often over the days, drawing me closer to my Lord. Often, he whispers the words, “I already have,” in response to my cry, bringing comfort and thanksgiving to my heart, and giving me eyes to see evidence of that freedom as bonds of anger, frustration, and hurt fall by the wayside. Another breath prayer, “God, heal my loved one,” has been received and answered by the Lord. Some of those prayed for have experienced miraculous and complete healing, while others are experiencing a slower healing. A third breath prayer I have used is one Jesus modeled, “Father, may your will be done.” Remembering to breath this, especially in times of suffering, gives me hope that like Jesus, I will “experience the victory of the open tomb, the end journey of suffering.”[1]
Another transformative prayer seed has been the Creative Prayer. This prayer has brought color and shape, form and lines, to my relationship with the Lord. What once was a black and white interaction is now filled with splashes of pinks, purples, reds, blues, and greens; colors that capture hopes and dreams, hurts and disappointments, joy and peace, in ways words never could. For years I have shelved my passion to create through drawing and painting. Taking time for such things seemed frivolous when there were so many other matters to attend to. Having been given permission to do these while praying has enriched my quiet time with Jesus in remarkable ways. Sitting down with my Bible and slowly reading a passage, allowing the words to flood my mind and create visual substance from the letters, is like a wave of peace washing over me. Next to a good long run, this is my favorite way to simply be with the Lord.
Lastly, I would be remiss if I did not share how the tiny seed of Inner Healing Prayer worked its way into my heart’s soil. Here, God took pain and shame, and began turning it into something beautiful and free. During our class experience, he spoke the nourishing truth of John 8:10-11 and Romans 8:1 into dark recesses of my being, allowing the little seed to cast off it’s hard outer covering and begin growing sprouts of hope and life. I definitely look forward to exploring this form of prayer more extensively in a future semester. Truly, Inner Healing Prayer is an integral tool in the hand of the Lord to bring freedom to his people.
Today, in place of a dry desert lays a little oasis, which in time will undoubtedly turn into a lush garden, filled with color, life, and hope. It is a place of peace and restoration, where the Lord comes and sits with me, and we marvel at the beauty of his grace. It is a place where his presence resides, and I abide. I now know that he has always been there. Even in the dry desert filled with tumbleweeds, he was there, waiting for me to simply see him. This semester has allowed me the opportunity to learn to recognize his presence regardless of the environment that surrounds. I have, if even in part, begun to understand how to simply be with my Beloved and rest in his loving arms. Thus, like the Psalmists, I am able to move from the brokenness of the world into the God’s faithful goodness and love, with a softly spoken, “But God…”



[1]           MaryKate Morse, A Guidebook to Prayer (Downers Grove: Intervarsity Press, 2013), 137.

Thursday, May 7, 2015

Confessions of a Crazy Soccer Mom

Photo Credit: Tawny Friedman

Two Sundays ago (actually, this whole soccer season) was tough on this momma. Ian plays on a team with some exceptional players and happens to fall around number 12 or 13 on a roster of 13. Because of that, he rarely starts in a game, and when they are playing a tournament where they must win to advance, my precious, soccer-loving boy sits most of the game. This has taken a toll on his poor momma’s heart and his poor daddy’s ear, because he has to listen to my rants of frustration, because all I want to do is watch Ian play.

Before Ian's State Cup tournament quarterfinal soccer match, we attended church. We sat and listened to our pastor teach on God’s unbelievable love. Using the passage from John 13:1-17 (one Ian and I had discussed a month or so prior), where Jesus washes his disciples feet, he pulled out truths about love.

Love:
Stays-It lasts, endures, and survives.
Starts-It initiates, chooses.
Submits-It’s devoted; humility with no limitations.
Sacrifices-It is always costly and usually painful or difficult.
Surprises- It shocks, often doing the unexpected.
Does-It is active, always in motion.

You would think that after hearing a message on love, I would have been fully prepared to demonstrate love on the sidelines of the field. Sadly, it wasn’t the case. Instead, as the minutes of the first half ticked by and neared the end without seeing my boy on the pitch, I moved from frustrated, to hurt (with tears), to downright mad. My jaw was set, and my brow furrowed. Even when Ian came in the last 3 minutes of the first half, I could barely focus on his play because I was beyond ticked. This only continued through the second half, as he sat all but the last 8 minutes of that half. Even when the team pulled a huge win, I was still so bent out of shape that it was hard to be happy for them. Jacked-up crazy, right? But even worse, I utilized a dozen different reasons to justify my behavior. That isn't just jacked-up crazy and extremely sad, its sin. 

As I reflected upon the day, I went into Ian’s room and told him how proud I was of his play. I told him I was especially proud of his amazing sportsmanship throughout the game. There wasn’t a moment that passed during the game where he wasn’t engaged on the sideline. He stood most of the time and stayed focused on the field and his teammates, cheering and giving high-fives to his teammates as substitutions were made, and he was mentally and physically ready to roll when the coach asked him to go in.

I confessed to him what my response was throughout the game, and how completely opposite it was from his. He remarked how the player who he usually subs in for was having a remarkable game, so he understood why he had not been subbed in sooner. He also mentioned how all the other players played exceptionally well also. He was beaming with pride at their accomplishments. He knew the overall goal was to win, and he trusted his coach would do his best to position the team to achieve success. He then added a long-range perspective of how when he gets to the pros, there are usually 6 guys on the bench and only 3 subs allowed. He noted that in that instance, he might not get to play at all. All I could do at this point was smile big! Which made me think:

Circumstance + Perspective = Experience (J. Dombrow)

As I listened to Ian explain with excitement how God had answered his prayer for a win, I was humbled at my boy’s big faith and even bigger heart. He sees and understands things that I’m not sure I will ever see or understand. He knows the importance of staying true to his team by sitting the bench while others shine, choosing to cheer and encourage even when he’s not on the field, submitting to his coach’s wisdom to read the game and make decisions to play players in a way that will hopefully bring success for the team.  He sacrifices his playtime without complaint for the betterment of the team. He never ceases to surprise me with his positive attitude and his little acts of kindness and encouragement that others may not see.

In short, Ian loves. He doesn’t always do this perfectly, but on that Sunday, I’d say he came pretty close. Though he loves the game of soccer, that love does not outweigh his love for his friends and his team. And isn’t that the really big goal of life? Love God and love others? 

Clearly, God is doing a mighty work in my boy’s heart. I am so thankful for the way He has surrounded Ian with an solid community, people who build him up and challenge him to be an amazing person, both on and off the field. I do not know if he will make it to the pros one day or not, but I do know that no matter where life carries him, he will love others well. And this crazy soccer mom wouldn't trade that for all the game time in the world. 

Obviously, I'm praying God will grow me in my ability to love others. I’m thankful He has given me a precious role model to emulate, especially when it comes to the realm of youth soccer! Indeed, God’s mercies are new each day, and for that I am thankful.  

**An update: The boys played last Saturday in the semi-finals. I was at total peace throughout the whole game. It didn't matter if Ian played or not (he did), if the team won or not (they didn't). I had others praying, helping me walk the youth soccer road. Eventually, I know it will come, that peace and total joy that comes from simply watching your child be right where he's suppose to be, doing exactly what he's suppose to be doing. In fact, I think from now on, this peace will be experienced more often than not, as I lean not on my own understanding, but trust in the plans God has laid out for my boy. Obviously, He is more interested in Ian's heart, then his ability to score a goal, though I think He cares about that, too;)