We arrived in the Southeast with eight children. Eight, we were told, was the Biblical, numerical symbol for new beginnings. Sounded good to us! One of the things SMF is most known for is its validation of the prophetic, i.e the present-day speaking of God. The first "word" that I got there, before I had even started the school, was something to the effect that God had some "adjustments" to make in my life and that it would look like others are passing me by. Immediately I understood this to mean that I was not to attend the school, which in many ways was a relief. It really didn't make sense to try to go to school while trying to work full-time and support a family with eight children. I figured that just being able to be a part of SMF's church would probably be almost as good as going to their school, especially since it was their philosophy to integrate the school and church very closely together. Another adjustment I made at that time was the decision to strike out on my own as a house painter and work for myself instead of for someone else as I was used to doing. I'm not an entrepeneur, but with the encouragment of a friend who was able to give me a lot of painting work to get started, I took the bold step . . . and have been so happy, ever since, that I did!
Another example of God's goodness and faithfulness to us at this time was the home that we were able to purchase in a town outside of the immediate suburbs of the city where SMF was located. Instead of having to rent (like we assumed we would have to do), we were able to invest and see that investment grow over the 10 years we ended up living there.
SMF proved to at least partially fulfill the hopes that I had for going there, though again, there were some unexpected twist and turns along the way. As I said, I didn't go to the school as I had planned. But a few years into our SMF experience I had a significant, turningpoint kind of a conversation with one of the leaders of the church. In this conversation I was challenged to discover for myself what exactly it was that God was calling me to do with my life. Did I know why God had put me on this earth, what my purpose was in life? Becky had indicated from time to time that she wished we had a clearer goal to shoot for. But not being a "goal-oriented" type of guy, I never got around to clarifying any goals. But here I was, being challenged to do just that, and I decided to take up that challenge. I spent the next couple of weeks praying, reflecting and searching the Scriptures looking for some kind of illumination on this subject - and guess what? I found it! But I will leave the explanation of what I found to the next blog.
We quit attending SMF after about 8 1/2 years, not because we had any real disagreements with them but because we found ourselves headed in a new direction that they were not able to help us move towards. It was outside of what they were familiar with, so we had to strike out on our own. Besides continuing to clarify our own new goal and vision, a couple of other things were happening that were drawing us away from SMF. One was the discovery of a Hebraic roots (some would call it "Messianic") fellowship where we could not only learn about our Jewish heritage as believers in Yeshua (Jesus) but where we could actually participate in Hebraic dance and celebrate the feasts of the Lord (e.g. Passover, Pentecost, etc.). Also, we were being drawn to making connections with Native American believers who, interestingly enough, were also wanting to explore and connect with the Hebraic roots of their faith. Neither of these new directions actually provided a "church" for our family to be a part of, so we entered into a (not totally comfortable) place of being "churchless". But in some very significat ways I believe we were experiencing at least some aspects of what "church" is really supposed to be, at least according to my developing point of view.
So our experience at SMF came and went. It definitely changed us for the good in more than one way, and it was there that I finally clarified a "vision" for my life. But, more importantly, it clarified a vision for both Becky and me, together.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
the good, the bad, and the . . .
Life in the country was a challenge financially but our entire family thoroughly enjoyed rural living. Most of our children look back to those days with much fondness. Our daughter Kate especially enjoyed playing outdoors in an old chicken "brooder" house, often with her best friend, pretending they were Mary and Laura Ingalls of "Little House on the Prairie". We were living a few miles from the farm where Becky grew up and where her parents as well as her brother's family were still living and farming. After visiting and being a part of two different churches in the area we ended up joining with two other families to form a house church. I had become good friends with the fellow who was initiating the church, having participated with him in a variety of home gatherings and prayer groups. He was a very zealous and dynamic kind of guy who, though younger than me, I was drawn to because of his spiritual drive. I saw him as a real kindred spirit in my own quest to draw closer to God. His daughter became close friends with our eldest daughter, and one of our boys was also good friends with his son. The other family who joined with us in forming the house church were new neighbors, living only a stone's throw away. They moved from the same college and suburb that we had moved from and we found we had similar homesteading-type interests.
Things went along fine for a while in this house church. A fourth family joined with us and we were enjoying this new-found freedom of worshipping with others of like mind in the context of a home where we could share a meal together after the meeting and where the children had plenty of room to safely roam and play. But things took an unexpected turn when I began to take a serious interest in reading some books by someone that M. (the house church leader who I, by then, considered by best friend) had reservations about. M. and I exchanged some letters where we laid out more clearly what our thoughts were. When that didn't resolve things, M. called a meeting where he asked the leaders of another church that he respected to be present. At that meeting I was basically quizzed about the books I was reading and, at the end, was strongly encouraged to stick to the Scriptures as the only true and authoritative guide for life, which I was more than happy to be in agreement with. But, because I didn't see any contradiction between the teaching in these books and the Scriptures, I didn't change my own thoughts, and M. felt it necessary to make a break with me since he could not accept the validity of this teaching. As he put it, he saw us walking down separate paths, paths that would only increasingly move further and further apart, so he felt the need to make a clean break "for the sake of our children" (who were best friends!). The longer we waited to make the break the harder it would be, was his line of reasoning. I remember saying to his face at some point in this process (I don't remember the exact context) that I felt like he was stabbing me in the back. It felt so much like betrayal and treachery, certainly the most wrenching experience I had ever (up till then and since) had. K. was the most devastated of our family since she was so close to M.'s daughter. It would be many years before that wound was no longer a tender spot in her soul. Also, our new neighbors took the same position as M., and all of a sudden it was like an invisible concrete wall had sprung up between our homes. No more contact, no more nothing. I had heard and read about shunning. Now I and my family were experiencing it.
Within a couple years we had picked up stakes and moved to the Southeast where I planned to attend the SMF school of ministry. J.R., whose books had created this rift between M. and me, had a church and school and I decided that that was what I wanted to help me in my pursuit of God. One of J.R.'s books had been instrumental in helping me make sense of this horrendous experience I had just gone through with my family. Would SMF be the help I needed to discover a "ministry" that I could devote myself to as a life's vocation or "calling"? I was sure hoping so.
Things went along fine for a while in this house church. A fourth family joined with us and we were enjoying this new-found freedom of worshipping with others of like mind in the context of a home where we could share a meal together after the meeting and where the children had plenty of room to safely roam and play. But things took an unexpected turn when I began to take a serious interest in reading some books by someone that M. (the house church leader who I, by then, considered by best friend) had reservations about. M. and I exchanged some letters where we laid out more clearly what our thoughts were. When that didn't resolve things, M. called a meeting where he asked the leaders of another church that he respected to be present. At that meeting I was basically quizzed about the books I was reading and, at the end, was strongly encouraged to stick to the Scriptures as the only true and authoritative guide for life, which I was more than happy to be in agreement with. But, because I didn't see any contradiction between the teaching in these books and the Scriptures, I didn't change my own thoughts, and M. felt it necessary to make a break with me since he could not accept the validity of this teaching. As he put it, he saw us walking down separate paths, paths that would only increasingly move further and further apart, so he felt the need to make a clean break "for the sake of our children" (who were best friends!). The longer we waited to make the break the harder it would be, was his line of reasoning. I remember saying to his face at some point in this process (I don't remember the exact context) that I felt like he was stabbing me in the back. It felt so much like betrayal and treachery, certainly the most wrenching experience I had ever (up till then and since) had. K. was the most devastated of our family since she was so close to M.'s daughter. It would be many years before that wound was no longer a tender spot in her soul. Also, our new neighbors took the same position as M., and all of a sudden it was like an invisible concrete wall had sprung up between our homes. No more contact, no more nothing. I had heard and read about shunning. Now I and my family were experiencing it.
Within a couple years we had picked up stakes and moved to the Southeast where I planned to attend the SMF school of ministry. J.R., whose books had created this rift between M. and me, had a church and school and I decided that that was what I wanted to help me in my pursuit of God. One of J.R.'s books had been instrumental in helping me make sense of this horrendous experience I had just gone through with my family. Would SMF be the help I needed to discover a "ministry" that I could devote myself to as a life's vocation or "calling"? I was sure hoping so.
Friday, February 19, 2010
beginning a less traveled road
As I reflect on those years following my graduation from college (the decade of my 20's), and as I look at them from the perspective and benefit of the bigger picture (of my entire 56 years), I must conclude that there was an even more momentous event that took place at that time. I've already referred to it in passing and am actually ashamed that I glossed over it so quickly. At the time I didn't recognize it as that momentous, but over the years I have come to see how truly providential this event really was. I am referring to my marriage to Becky.
It took me awhile (2 1/2 years after meeting her) to see what Becky had to offer that I really wanted in a wife. Up until getting to know her I had assumed I would marry someone from a similar church background as myself. Not that Becky's church background was too terribly different than mine, but there were enough differences that for someone like myself who placed spirituality at the top of my list of priorities, this was no small thing. But as I got to know her over time I eventually saw that she had something that, to me, was the most important quality of all. She had the same heartfelt desire to know the truth - to be real, to be a person of integrity, that I was struggling to be. I was defining this inner drive in terms of wanting to "know God". Becky didn't necessarily have words or concepts to define her innermost desires, but I would call what most attracted me to her as "simple, uncomplicated integrity". Even though she had been walking a path that was in some ways quite different than mine, I came to the conclusion that at the core of our beings, we were actually walking very similar, though parallel, paths.
So, we decided to join our paths, and that decision has indeed "made all the difference" in terms of the direction that it would take me(us) in. But the "difference" took awhile to become self-evident. At first, Becky had her hands full learning to be a mom of an ever-expanding family, not to mention being married to this college graduate who had no clue what he really wanted in life yet who had these lofty spiritual ideals. It would take about 20 years for me to begin to realize the deep impact this quiet, country girl was having on my life. But I'm not at that point in this story yet. I just want to alert you to the fact that marrying Becky really was a singularly important event in those post-college years.
After marrying and having four children some things transpired to move us from the suburbs to the country. The churches I had tried to sink my roots into were literally dissolving apart around me (I was drawn to pioneering-types which, as it turned out, didn't have much staying power), I was not making any progress vocation-wise and Becky's and my best friends were all moving out of town. Becky had run across a book in the local health-food store entitled BACK TO THE LAND, and this stirred up in her the desire to return to her roots in the country. At this time in my life people were the most important element in my life. I wanted to live close to good churches and good friends. But, as I said, the ones I was involved with were dispersing, and when Becky expressed the desire to move to the country my response was, "there's nothing holding us here anymore." So, we ended up on a 4-acre "farmette", thinking this was where we could settle and raise our growing family. Little did we know that this quiet, pastoral setting would be the place where our young family would experience the most shattering experience of our life together.
It took me awhile (2 1/2 years after meeting her) to see what Becky had to offer that I really wanted in a wife. Up until getting to know her I had assumed I would marry someone from a similar church background as myself. Not that Becky's church background was too terribly different than mine, but there were enough differences that for someone like myself who placed spirituality at the top of my list of priorities, this was no small thing. But as I got to know her over time I eventually saw that she had something that, to me, was the most important quality of all. She had the same heartfelt desire to know the truth - to be real, to be a person of integrity, that I was struggling to be. I was defining this inner drive in terms of wanting to "know God". Becky didn't necessarily have words or concepts to define her innermost desires, but I would call what most attracted me to her as "simple, uncomplicated integrity". Even though she had been walking a path that was in some ways quite different than mine, I came to the conclusion that at the core of our beings, we were actually walking very similar, though parallel, paths.
So, we decided to join our paths, and that decision has indeed "made all the difference" in terms of the direction that it would take me(us) in. But the "difference" took awhile to become self-evident. At first, Becky had her hands full learning to be a mom of an ever-expanding family, not to mention being married to this college graduate who had no clue what he really wanted in life yet who had these lofty spiritual ideals. It would take about 20 years for me to begin to realize the deep impact this quiet, country girl was having on my life. But I'm not at that point in this story yet. I just want to alert you to the fact that marrying Becky really was a singularly important event in those post-college years.
After marrying and having four children some things transpired to move us from the suburbs to the country. The churches I had tried to sink my roots into were literally dissolving apart around me (I was drawn to pioneering-types which, as it turned out, didn't have much staying power), I was not making any progress vocation-wise and Becky's and my best friends were all moving out of town. Becky had run across a book in the local health-food store entitled BACK TO THE LAND, and this stirred up in her the desire to return to her roots in the country. At this time in my life people were the most important element in my life. I wanted to live close to good churches and good friends. But, as I said, the ones I was involved with were dispersing, and when Becky expressed the desire to move to the country my response was, "there's nothing holding us here anymore." So, we ended up on a 4-acre "farmette", thinking this was where we could settle and raise our growing family. Little did we know that this quiet, pastoral setting would be the place where our young family would experience the most shattering experience of our life together.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
my earliest awakenings
Having been raised in a stream or branch of the Church that strongly emphasized the importance of having a "personal relationship with the Lord", I was very sensitive to the fact that my "salvation experience" was not very well defined or emotionally impacting. My parents wish they had done a better job in helping me with this decision; but be that as it may, the only thing that I can point to as my time of decision to "invite Jesus into my life (as Lord and Saviour)" was a time when I was alone in my room (somewhere around early adolescence - don't have a specific date for it) and I decided it was time to do business with God. I had been taught well what the requirements were to "be saved", so, wanting to enter in to the salvation that was offerred me in Jesus, I prayed the sinner's prayer and accepted Jesus as my Saviour. Not too many years later, knowing that I would soon be returning to the United States, I decided that I wanted to be baptized in the country that I had been raised in and felt like home. I especially wanted to be baptized outdoors in a stream (typical for small, rural churches in Latinamerica) instead of indoors in a church building. So I was baptized by my Dad, along with a handful of other Hondurans, in a "pozo" (dammed up pool in a stream) not far from where our church was on the edge of town.
These were the most significant events of my early spiritual pilgrimmage. But what is outstanding to me about these two decisions was that I did them virtually out of a sense of duty. I was taught that this was the right thing to do, I believed it, so I did it. There was not much emotion involved or any significant change that took place, inwardly or outwardly, that I was cognizant of. Life went on as it always had.
Please understand that I am trying to relate my experience as straighforwardly and objectively
as possible without dressing it up with "spiritual" explanations or commentary. I also don't want to over-evaluate or get too introspective about it all. I want to tell my story as simply as I know how.
What I see as significant about my high-school years was that I was exposed to what was called the "Jesus Movement" in California. This had all the marks of a genuine move of God and it was exciting to see some of it first hand, up close. I don't doubt that the encounters I had with these hippies who had left "free sex" and drugs in order to get "turned on to Jesus", left an impact on me and contributed significantly to whatever initial hunger for God that was stirring within me.
Another sign of the spiritual "stirrings" going on within me at this time was my involvement with a student-led Bible study on campus.
Not having a clear vocational direction to move towards after high school, I opted for a Christian liberal arts college that had a good soccer program (it also happened to be the college both of my parents attended). My choice of Biblical Studies for a major simply reflected what I was most interested in studying, but I graduated with no more clarity as to what I wanted to do with the rest of my life than when I started college. All I knew was that I had a desire to be involved in "full-time Christian ministry", but didn't have a clue how to bring more focus to it than that. I do know that I was dissatified with what I had seen and experienced to date in regards to "Christian ministry" and that I felt very much like a "seeker" instead of someone who was ready to go out and help others get it together spiritually. After groping around for direction I finally took the plunge and applied to (and got accepted at) a graduate program at the University of Maryland in Adult Non-Formal Education. This would have set me on a course toward working in the sphere of third world development which I thought I would be cut out for because of my having grown up in a third world country.
But then something happened that changed the course of my life forever. I still remember the restaurant where I ate a meal with my best friend and his best friend. We spent our time in deep, heart-felt conversation about spiritual things, things pertaining to God and our relationship with Him. It was such a rich time! That very night it dawned on me that there was only one thing that I wanted to do with my life. I wanted to devote the rest of my life to knowing God and making him known. If I were of a spiritual tradition that believed in monasticism I probably would have become a monk. But one thing I knew for sure: I could not follow through with my plans for graduate school. I knew I was letting some people down by dropping out, but it was a relief to do so. My truest desires had come to the surface and I knew I had to follow them and not give in to societal pressures to have a career path to show for myself.
The result of this discovery and my choosing to "follow my heart" was . . . depression and more confusion. It was not a fun time. My favorite professor from college felt like I was throwing away what I had gained from my education. What was a college graduate with a Bachelors' degree to do? How about working a night shift at a UPS loading dock, for starters? I did that for eight years and during that time I got married and started a family. By then one thing had become quite clear to me. Whatever "ministry" God might have in mind for me, I decided that the best way to prepare for it would be in the real, work-a-day world. Looking back now, almost 30 years later, I have no regrets. I see that God indeed used the "school of hard knocks" to prepare me for what lay, and still lies, ahead.
Next, I'll cover some more unexpected twists and turns as I was seeking to be faithful to my heart's desire, to know God.
These were the most significant events of my early spiritual pilgrimmage. But what is outstanding to me about these two decisions was that I did them virtually out of a sense of duty. I was taught that this was the right thing to do, I believed it, so I did it. There was not much emotion involved or any significant change that took place, inwardly or outwardly, that I was cognizant of. Life went on as it always had.
Please understand that I am trying to relate my experience as straighforwardly and objectively
as possible without dressing it up with "spiritual" explanations or commentary. I also don't want to over-evaluate or get too introspective about it all. I want to tell my story as simply as I know how.
What I see as significant about my high-school years was that I was exposed to what was called the "Jesus Movement" in California. This had all the marks of a genuine move of God and it was exciting to see some of it first hand, up close. I don't doubt that the encounters I had with these hippies who had left "free sex" and drugs in order to get "turned on to Jesus", left an impact on me and contributed significantly to whatever initial hunger for God that was stirring within me.
Another sign of the spiritual "stirrings" going on within me at this time was my involvement with a student-led Bible study on campus.
Not having a clear vocational direction to move towards after high school, I opted for a Christian liberal arts college that had a good soccer program (it also happened to be the college both of my parents attended). My choice of Biblical Studies for a major simply reflected what I was most interested in studying, but I graduated with no more clarity as to what I wanted to do with the rest of my life than when I started college. All I knew was that I had a desire to be involved in "full-time Christian ministry", but didn't have a clue how to bring more focus to it than that. I do know that I was dissatified with what I had seen and experienced to date in regards to "Christian ministry" and that I felt very much like a "seeker" instead of someone who was ready to go out and help others get it together spiritually. After groping around for direction I finally took the plunge and applied to (and got accepted at) a graduate program at the University of Maryland in Adult Non-Formal Education. This would have set me on a course toward working in the sphere of third world development which I thought I would be cut out for because of my having grown up in a third world country.
But then something happened that changed the course of my life forever. I still remember the restaurant where I ate a meal with my best friend and his best friend. We spent our time in deep, heart-felt conversation about spiritual things, things pertaining to God and our relationship with Him. It was such a rich time! That very night it dawned on me that there was only one thing that I wanted to do with my life. I wanted to devote the rest of my life to knowing God and making him known. If I were of a spiritual tradition that believed in monasticism I probably would have become a monk. But one thing I knew for sure: I could not follow through with my plans for graduate school. I knew I was letting some people down by dropping out, but it was a relief to do so. My truest desires had come to the surface and I knew I had to follow them and not give in to societal pressures to have a career path to show for myself.
The result of this discovery and my choosing to "follow my heart" was . . . depression and more confusion. It was not a fun time. My favorite professor from college felt like I was throwing away what I had gained from my education. What was a college graduate with a Bachelors' degree to do? How about working a night shift at a UPS loading dock, for starters? I did that for eight years and during that time I got married and started a family. By then one thing had become quite clear to me. Whatever "ministry" God might have in mind for me, I decided that the best way to prepare for it would be in the real, work-a-day world. Looking back now, almost 30 years later, I have no regrets. I see that God indeed used the "school of hard knocks" to prepare me for what lay, and still lies, ahead.
Next, I'll cover some more unexpected twists and turns as I was seeking to be faithful to my heart's desire, to know God.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Awakening to the journey
For quite awhile now, I have had a keen sense that I am on a journey and I am not alone. The longer I'm on this path the more I am appreciating how adventurous and dynamic this process really is. I'm convinced that everyone has a unique and remarkable story to tell but few seem to be aware of how unique or remarkable it really is. Some might say that because I got to grow up in a foreign country, raised by missionary parents, that this has given me an extra bonus toward seeing my life as unique in some way. Maybe, maybe not. For the most part, though, my life has been pretty average (or below average from an economic standpoint!). As I see it, if there is anything that stands out to me about myself, it is that I have had a hunger to know God my entire life. If I had been raised in an atheist or nonreligious family I'm not sure how this hunger would have manifested. But because I was raised in a well churched setting my hunger to embrace the ultimate issues of life became focused on wanting to "know God". This strong, overarching desire has been to me the guiding light on my journey. Every major decision I've made has been directly influenced by this inward drive.
I would like to take a new direction with this blog. It's possible that I might start a whole new blog altogether, devoted to this new theme. I don't know yet. The two themes are definitely connected so I may just continue with this blog, we'll see. But the new theme would be entitled something like "A God Quest - One Person's Search for God and Meaning". I would like this blog to now become a record of both my past, and present, quest to know God - not in a theoretical or theological sense, but in a very nitty-gritty, down-to-earth sense. What has come to make life so fascinating to me is being able to view it as a creative work of the Master, in process. My all-time favorite saying of Jesus is, "I only do what I see my Father doing". Sometimes I feel like I can stand back, look at what's been happening in my life and say, "Wow, isn't that cool - God is really doing something neat!" Unfortunately, most of what I see God doing is through hindsight, but I hope I can improve and become more like Jesus in recognizing the present activity of God. That is my goal. Like the great saints of old my desire is to simply "walk with God". Would you like to join me in that walk? I'd love to hear your stories as well! What greater adventure can there be than to walk with the Master of the universe! Go for it! Nothing will be harder or more challenging. But if my short life has taught me anything, it is that it will be well worth it.
I would like to take a new direction with this blog. It's possible that I might start a whole new blog altogether, devoted to this new theme. I don't know yet. The two themes are definitely connected so I may just continue with this blog, we'll see. But the new theme would be entitled something like "A God Quest - One Person's Search for God and Meaning". I would like this blog to now become a record of both my past, and present, quest to know God - not in a theoretical or theological sense, but in a very nitty-gritty, down-to-earth sense. What has come to make life so fascinating to me is being able to view it as a creative work of the Master, in process. My all-time favorite saying of Jesus is, "I only do what I see my Father doing". Sometimes I feel like I can stand back, look at what's been happening in my life and say, "Wow, isn't that cool - God is really doing something neat!" Unfortunately, most of what I see God doing is through hindsight, but I hope I can improve and become more like Jesus in recognizing the present activity of God. That is my goal. Like the great saints of old my desire is to simply "walk with God". Would you like to join me in that walk? I'd love to hear your stories as well! What greater adventure can there be than to walk with the Master of the universe! Go for it! Nothing will be harder or more challenging. But if my short life has taught me anything, it is that it will be well worth it.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
lurking joy
This morning, while preparing breakfast for Helen's birthday, I experienced a brief, unexpected burst of joy. It wasn't a big burst - more of a gentle upwelling. I suppose an "objective" observer would say I was simply enjoying the fact that I had the day off from work and that I was doing one of my favorite acivities - cooking up a delicious and healthy meal on a special day. But the feeling of joy came and went. It did not hang around for more than a few minutes. Before and after this encounter I was already quite content - happy even. But joy is unique in that (for me, anyway) it is rather rare; it is something more pervasive and deeply pleasureable than mere happiness.
I suspect that I am not alone in this experience of "lurking joy". If only I could coax it out of the shadows and have it as a constant companion! Is there something about me that scares it away? Do I make it feel unwelcome somehow? Or is it the nature of joy to be fleeting and elusive? Was joy a constant companion of him who was called a "man of sorrows and acquainted with grief"? Is it possible to experience more than one emotion at a time?!
One thing I do know. Joy is second only to love as one of the signiature marks of God's presence. The Holy Spirit is notoriously shy in that he's not about drawing attention to himself. But he does want to fill us.
Someone once said, "We are as close to God as we want to be." When I first heard that I wanted to object, "That's not true! I've tried hard to get close to God and so often it feels like my efforts have been in vain!" But to say that we can be as close to God as we want to be is simply a restatement of what James said - "Draw near to God and He will draw near to you."
I think the problem is that we give up too easily. I think God deliberately makes it hard to know Him as a way of testing us to see what we really want. Those things that we really want we will continuously go after - we won't let anything stop us or discourage us. But I think there is another important element in understanding joy and the presence of God. And that is the reality that God is Who He Is. He is not a Santa Claus who hands out presents to the good boy and girls. He does what He does for His own inscrutible reasons, which He may or may not share with us.
Which brings us back to the need for humility, for a purity of heart that is uncluttered with distractions. To be filled we must first be emptied.
Jesus, full of joy through the Holy Spirit, said, "I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children. Yes, Father, for this was your good pleasure." (Lk. 10:21)
I suspect that I am not alone in this experience of "lurking joy". If only I could coax it out of the shadows and have it as a constant companion! Is there something about me that scares it away? Do I make it feel unwelcome somehow? Or is it the nature of joy to be fleeting and elusive? Was joy a constant companion of him who was called a "man of sorrows and acquainted with grief"? Is it possible to experience more than one emotion at a time?!
One thing I do know. Joy is second only to love as one of the signiature marks of God's presence. The Holy Spirit is notoriously shy in that he's not about drawing attention to himself. But he does want to fill us.
Someone once said, "We are as close to God as we want to be." When I first heard that I wanted to object, "That's not true! I've tried hard to get close to God and so often it feels like my efforts have been in vain!" But to say that we can be as close to God as we want to be is simply a restatement of what James said - "Draw near to God and He will draw near to you."
I think the problem is that we give up too easily. I think God deliberately makes it hard to know Him as a way of testing us to see what we really want. Those things that we really want we will continuously go after - we won't let anything stop us or discourage us. But I think there is another important element in understanding joy and the presence of God. And that is the reality that God is Who He Is. He is not a Santa Claus who hands out presents to the good boy and girls. He does what He does for His own inscrutible reasons, which He may or may not share with us.
Which brings us back to the need for humility, for a purity of heart that is uncluttered with distractions. To be filled we must first be emptied.
Jesus, full of joy through the Holy Spirit, said, "I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children. Yes, Father, for this was your good pleasure." (Lk. 10:21)
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
the elusiveness of simplicity
I suspect that our culture does not place simplicity very high on its list of values. In fact, the word "culture" seems to imply sophistication and complexity. Western culture in particular, with its emphasis on rationality and intellectual skills, tends to militate against anything that is too easily accessed (e.g. by intuition). A good mind is more highly valued than a good heart. As you can see, I'm associating simplicity with the heart. One way to define simplicity is to say that it is living from the heart. Young children do this quite easily and naturally. As we grow older and our minds develop, we shift from relying on the intuitive to relying more on what we can understand and grasp with our minds. Once our minds kick into full gear life starts to get very complicated and that blessed gift of simplicity gets lost in the shuffle. Now, sophistication and complexity are not bad in themselves. The problem is when we forget or abandon the simplicity of the heart in preference for the "higher wisdom" of increasing intellectual sophistication.
Isn't this at least partly what Jesus is warning us of when he tells us that we won't even be able to enter the kingdom of heaven unless we humble ourselves as little children? If that is a requirement for entering, I suspect it is also a requirement for continuing.
The most radical and transformative step that I've ever taken towards child-likeness and simplicity was when I decided to start addressing God as "Daddy". I had heard an older, seasoned saint once suggest to a group of pastors that they begin speaking to God in such terms. His own favorite term for God was "Papa" which he would unabashedly use even when speaking from the pulpit to large crowds.
As I took this advice to heart I found that initially it was an akward adjustment. But slowly I got used to it and eventually it felt so right that I now can't imagine not addressing God that way (at least privately). In fact, "Daddy!" has become my favorite and most frequently used one-word prayer, most often utilized when I haven't a clue what else to pray. All I know is that it expresses a deep, unfulfilled longing that needs expression - a longing that cannot be encompassed by neat mental categories we call "words".
In some ways I feel like I have been regressing in my spiritual life. It isn't always fun to take the lower road, but in the long haul I have found it satisfying and do recommend it (i.e.simplifying). A good first step is to slow down. Observe how young children interact with life. Most of my children have grown up. But Clara is in that state of perpetual child-likeness so she is a constant reminder of what it is like to be intuitive, simple, aware and immediately connected to the present. I long to see her whole, her mind as fully functional as her heart. Maybe that day will come when our (the Body of Christ's) hearts have finally been healed . . . because I have a sneaking suspicion that hearts need to be healed before minds . . . Daaaa-ddyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
...you have received a spirit of adoption. When we cry, "Abba! Father!" it is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God . . .(Ro 8:15)
. . . the simplicity that is in Christ . . . (2 Cor. 11:3 KJV)
. . .it is with the heart that you believe . . . (Ro. 10:10)
Isn't this at least partly what Jesus is warning us of when he tells us that we won't even be able to enter the kingdom of heaven unless we humble ourselves as little children? If that is a requirement for entering, I suspect it is also a requirement for continuing.
The most radical and transformative step that I've ever taken towards child-likeness and simplicity was when I decided to start addressing God as "Daddy". I had heard an older, seasoned saint once suggest to a group of pastors that they begin speaking to God in such terms. His own favorite term for God was "Papa" which he would unabashedly use even when speaking from the pulpit to large crowds.
As I took this advice to heart I found that initially it was an akward adjustment. But slowly I got used to it and eventually it felt so right that I now can't imagine not addressing God that way (at least privately). In fact, "Daddy!" has become my favorite and most frequently used one-word prayer, most often utilized when I haven't a clue what else to pray. All I know is that it expresses a deep, unfulfilled longing that needs expression - a longing that cannot be encompassed by neat mental categories we call "words".
In some ways I feel like I have been regressing in my spiritual life. It isn't always fun to take the lower road, but in the long haul I have found it satisfying and do recommend it (i.e.simplifying). A good first step is to slow down. Observe how young children interact with life. Most of my children have grown up. But Clara is in that state of perpetual child-likeness so she is a constant reminder of what it is like to be intuitive, simple, aware and immediately connected to the present. I long to see her whole, her mind as fully functional as her heart. Maybe that day will come when our (the Body of Christ's) hearts have finally been healed . . . because I have a sneaking suspicion that hearts need to be healed before minds . . . Daaaa-ddyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
...you have received a spirit of adoption. When we cry, "Abba! Father!" it is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God . . .(Ro 8:15)
. . . the simplicity that is in Christ . . . (2 Cor. 11:3 KJV)
. . .it is with the heart that you believe . . . (Ro. 10:10)
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