A dove at rest under leaden skies.

Al de firme propósito guardarás en perfecta paz, porque en ti confía. En arrepentimiento y en reposo seréis salvos; en quietud y confianza está vuestro poder. Isaías 26:3

O God, You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are fixed on You; for in returning and rest we shall be saved; in quietness and trust shall be our strength. Isaiah 26:3

This morning’s New Testament reading is from Revelation, and how the dragon who has led the world astray rages, knowing that his time is short. That he is going to lose this eternal battle, so he strives to wreck as much damage and pain as possible before the end of time.

Time, the glasses with which we view life, is going to be smashed and will be no more. We will see clearly then, the huge expanse from Your perspective.

And in that understanding, I can rest. In perfect peace.

Don’t worry about anything, instead pray about everything. And don’t forget to thank Me for My answers.

A dove at rest under leaden skies.

Saturday, July 5, 2014

A humility that passes understanding.

Al de firme propósito guardarás en perfecta paz, porque en ti confía. En arrepentimientoy en reposo seréis salvos; en quietud y confianza está vuestro poder. Isaías 26:3

O God, You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are fixed on You; for in returning and rest we shall be saved; in quietness and trust shall be our strength. Isaiah 26:3

The LORD’s will stands fast forever, and the designs of His heart from age to age. Psalm 33:11

So I just did a walk around the arroyo across the street. The sky is the classic representation of the “leaden” sky that authors such as Keats and Doyle and London are so very fond.  As in ”Where but to think is to be full of sorrow and leaden-eyed despairs.”

It never rained as promised yesterday and the desert is quite sullen.

And stark. A great black bare branch stuck up awkwardly from an ancient tree. That I was quite sure the owners would chop off if they could afford the thousands of dollars that it would cost to remove such a hazard to their home.

And a hawk settled comfortably and began preening his pin feathers. Black against the still leaden sky. But then I noticed two doves also perched in a nearby lower branch. Quietly. In rest. And my understanding of this branch shifted. Suddenly I started thinking words like “timeless” and “stand fast.”

And perfect peace.

Yesterday I tried to re-rip through The Problem of Pain by Lewis between the neighborhood Fourth-of-July parade and the packing of books and bowls for my friend and Colombia losing to Brazil.  Pain is a problem. And I thought ol’ Lewis might offer up a flashlight of clarity as I hold some recent conversations in my heart and prayers. Well, first of all, The Problem of Pain is not a rip-through book, no matter how many times one has read it, Lewis is of course full of brand new pregnant pauses that demand sorting and reflection.

And this weekend I am going to revise and “polish” (my instructor’s term) and submit my thoughts on the silently angsty ram strapped down and headed towards a clicking MRI machine. And that picture makes my soul ache. As do the thousands of children and single mothers warehoused while politicians pontificate in McAllen, Texas.

And Lewis sets forward his philosophical rationale for pain, and the tangle of purpose and human will and Omnipotence, as well as approaching Christ’s declarations from yesterday: Blessed are the poor, blessed are the persecuted. But most of all Lewis explores capitalized Love. And one of my most memorable teaching moments ever was when seventh-grade Ben Winslow lit upon this idea, that pain is God’s megaphone to rouse a deaf world, and he was so excited that I think he couldn’t even sleep that night just thinking about this capitalized Love. 

But mostly this morning I am full of the George McDonald quote with which Lewis leads:

The Son of God suffered unto the death,

not that men might not suffer, but that their

sufferings might be like His.           Unspoken Sermons, First Series

For the joy set before Him. Arms lifted up in love, to draw all people to Himself. Purposeful.

And I think about those early-morning doves. They were not huddled. Or shrinking. Or picking nervously.

And in my returning, or repenting in Spanish which means re-thinking, there is rest. And may my thoughts be fixed on Him, in quietness and trust. May I not be the naughty little toddler of my imagination sticking her hands into dark octopus holes, or Lewis’ puppy after the hated bath, shaking myself as dry as I can, and then racing off to reacquire my comfortable dirtiness, May I, through practicing His presence, grow past the needed megaphone, and listen for the quiet, steady voice of His capitalized Love.

Perfect peace. 

Clickity Clack Clickity Clack

And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of God. 2 Corinthians 10

You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on You, because he trusts in You. Isaiah 26:3

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be acceptable in thy sight, O Lord my strength and my redeemer. Psalms 19:14

God desires truth in the inward parts. Psalms 51:6

This mind control requires persistence and patience. It requires coming again and again to the truth no matter how many times I have done so before, and quietly, gently, and humbly, choosing that same truth again, deciding this is what will be, this is the way I'm going to think, this is what I will act, and refusing to do otherwise. This is bringing captive every thought to the obedience of Christ.

Renew. Again and again. New every morning with that just-bubbling cup of espresso. New mid-morning as the day settles around my shoulders, New in the weariness of late afternoon traffic. And new as I stare into the starting-to-turn-to-coals fire just before I head off to the ice cubicle bedroom with flannel sheets.

And I am also staring at an as-yet-undefined length of time sabbatical. A Sabbath rest in perhaps the Delectable Mountains, to behold the gardens and orchards, the vineyards and fountains of water; where also they may drank, and wash themselves, and freely eat of the vineyards, a place of relief for pilgrims that are weary and faint in the way.

And I don't think it is a coincidence that Christian was led here after his escape from Giant Despair. 

And somehow My Father put this idea into the heart and mind of my boss, and maybe I sputtered for a day or two or eight, but then it settled in true and I am so grateful for his willingness to follow the gentle prodding into the unknown.

And the folks who know me, all of whom are enthusiastic about the concept, are a bit quizzical about the day-to-day.  Is God really going to be able to wrest the checklists out of the Checklist Lady’s fingers?

And this morning I woke up as usual just before the clock flipped to 4:15 a.m. but I didn’t have to hop out just yet into the day so I just lay there and thought about these verses that I had tucked into my heart yesterday. And I pretty much thought to myself that this is enough. I can live right here, practicing the presence of God for a whole chunk of undistracted time and Be. Be without the clickity clack clickity clack railroad track careening in the background of every conversation with the other or with myself.

I grew up a stone’s toss from the Norfolk Southern Railroad and every time it passed the pictures on the dining room wall trembled. And everyone tried not to notice, but we did. That’s pretty much how I have lived the past thirty-five years of my life and I get it that everyone who loves me would like the picture frames to stop rattling in the background.

Perfect Peace.

Selah.

A humility that passes understanding

Al de firme propósito guardarás en perfecta paz, porque en ti confía. En arrepentimiento y en reposo seréis salvos; en quietud y confianza está vuestro poder. Isaías 26:3

O God, You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are fixed on You; for in returning and rest we shall be saved; in quietness and trust shall be our strength. Isaiah 26:3

The LORD’s will stands fast forever, and the designs of His heart from age to age. Psalm 33:11

So I just did a walk around the arroyo across the street. The sky is the classic representation of the “leaden” sky that authors such as Keats and Doyle and London are so very fond.  As in ”Where but to think is to be full of sorrow and leaden-eyed despairs.”

It never rained as promised yesterday and the desert is quite sullen.

And stark. A great black bare branch stuck up awkwardly from an ancient tree. That I was quite sure the owners would chop off if they could afford the thousands of dollars that it would cost to remove such a hazard to their home.

And a hawk settled comfortably and began preening his pin feathers. Black against the still leaden sky. But then I noticed two doves also perched in a nearby lower branch. Quietly. In rest. And my understanding of this branch shifted. Suddenly I started thinking words like “timeless” and “stand fast.”

And perfect peace.

Yesterday I tried to re-rip through The Problem of Pain by Lewis between the neighborhood Fourth-of-July parade and the packing of books and bowls for my friend and Colombia losing to Brazil.  Pain is a problem. And I thought ol’ Lewis might offer up a flashlight of clarity as I hold some recent conversations in my heart and prayers. Well, first of all, The Problem of Pain is not a rip-through book, no matter how many times one has read it, Lewis is of course full of brand new pregnant pauses that demand sorting and reflection.

And this weekend I am going to revise and “polish” (my instructor’s term) and submit my thoughts on the silently angsty ram strapped down and headed towards a clicking MRI machine. And that picture makes my soul ache. As do the thousands of children and single mothers warehoused while politicians pontificate in McAllen, Texas.

And Lewis sets forward his philosophical rationale for pain, and the tangle of purpose and human will and Omnipotence, as well as approaching Christ’s declarations from yesterday: Blessed are the poor, blessed are the persecuted. But most of all Lewis explores capitalized Love. And one of my most memorable teaching moments ever was when seventh-grade Ben Winslow lit upon this idea, that pain is God’s megaphone to rouse a deaf world, and he was so excited that I think he couldn’t even sleep that night just thinking about this capitalized Love. 

But mostly this morning I am full of the George McDonald quote with which Lewis leads:

The Son of God suffered unto the death,

not that men might not suffer, but that their

sufferings might be like His.           Unspoken Sermons, First Series

For the joy set before Him. Arms lifted up in love, to draw all people to Himself. Purposeful.

And I think about those early-morning doves. They were not huddled. Or shrinking. Or picking nervously.

And in my returning, or repenting in Spanish which means re-thinking, there is rest. And may my thoughts be fixed on Him, in quietness and trust. May I not be the naughty little toddler of my imagination sticking her hands into dark octopus holes, or Lewis’ puppy after the hated bath, shaking myself as dry as I can, and then racing off to reacquire my comfortable dirtiness, May I, through practicing His presence, grow past the needed megaphone, and listen for the quiet, steady voice of His capitalized Love.

Perfect peace.