Loving God with all my Mind

Found this prayer on Paul Tripp's blog.  If you haven't, you really should get acquainted with his writing.  He has a seriously unique and God-given gift of making theology completely, 100% practical. Here's just a taste of that:

 

I know I should watch my meditation.
It is important to guard my thoughts.
It is a battle to not be taken captive.
It's hard to think after you.
There are so many things that compete
for my thoughts,
so many things that call after my desires.
It really is war, fought in the neighborhoods
of my mind.
"If only" commands too much of
my meditation.
"I wish" controls too much of
my thoughts.
"I need" fights for
control.
It is so easy in the midst
of it all to forget
the one thing I was created
to remember:
You.
I now confess
it is so easy to lose sight of
Your presence
Your power
Your kingdom
Your glory
Your plan
Your grace.
In my right mind I know that
forgetting is the
first step in losing
my way.
So, I humbly ask once again,
O, Spirit of wisdom and grace,
please empower me to
meditate on You,
please enable me to fight
distraction.
Please deliver me from the
one thing I cannot escape:
my fickle heart.
So that everything
I do would bear the mark of
remembering You.

Detached

That is how I feel right now.

Separate. Disconnected. Removed.

Some people thrive off of time alone. While I do need that alone time to recharge every once in a while, I am most often recharged being around people.

I am an external processor--which is hard to do by yourself.

Absolute quiet makes me want to go crazy, while being around the chaos of kids or family fills my heart.

All this to say, I'm what most would call a "people person."

Since March, I have been living by myself. Well, with 2 cats--but we all know that doesn't count, right? (Yes, I've become the infamous "single woman with all her cats" at the age of 23).

There are no other people. Nobody to talk to about my day or hear about theirs. Nobody to cook dinner for or bake cookies for. And after 6 months of living alone, I realize how much I really don't like it.

Having lived with roommates or other families or in various homes in the Czech Republic and everywhere in between, I was ready for a "break" to have my own space. So, when this opportunity came up to live in this home by myself, I thought it was ideal. And, it has been a huge blessing in many ways.

But, there's something missing in not having people around. As hard as it was to share a room with another girl (or 2 or 3), there's something refreshing about it (and it makes you clean out your closet a whole lot more than usual). I try to have people over as often as possible, but it's just not the same as having another presence right here in the house.

More than anything, I miss the fellowship that being around others brings. God created us to live in community. It's what He uses to refine us, encourage us, challenge us, humble us, and most importantly, make us more like Jesus Christ.

I would venture to say that nearly every command in Scripture given to us involves other people, or at the very least is best implemented in our dealings with others.   For example--being kind or patient or humble is easy when we are not accountable to anyone and are not affecting anyone in our unkindness, impatience or pride. It is so easy to become quickly deceived about who I am when it's just me, myself and I. And in this sense, it is far too easy to begin to think that I am kind or patient or humble when I am alone.

Because, after all...Who's going to tell me I'm wrong?

So, all this rambling has no purpose other than being reminded of and thankful for the way that our Creator has made us--for relationship. Yes, it gets messy at times and often feels like it's not worth the trouble. But, let me tell you--as one who has been walking likely the most "detached from relationships" path I have ever walked in my short life--it is worth it for what it produces in and through us. And it is the means that our Creator has wisely chosen to mold us into His likeness.

For me in this season, He's molding this people-person type of girl using the opposite means--by being alone more than I'd ever wish to be.  I'm learning how to be okay with the quiet and how to make the most of those moments between just the Lord and me.  I'm learning to choose to be refreshed by spending time in His Word and in fellowship with Him rather than always surrounding myself with people.  Because the beautiful thing about God is that He always has so much more for us--more to learn about Him, others and ourselves; more to taste and see and experience of Him.  So, while He created us to live in community and be in relationship with others, He also created us to only be completely satisfied in relationship with Him.  Those relationships are meant to point us to more of Him and His nature.  They are means to the most glorious end--knowing and loving our great God.  

What we need to know on days like today....

What Remains True after 6 months of Grieving

Today marks 6 months since Mary passed away.  6 months since she entered the presence of God.  Thinking about it in those terms seems so much sweeter.

For us, it's been 6 months of stumbling through each day, crying in the moments where it seems too hard to bear, trying to figure out how to pick up from here with her gone.

But, for her....every day, she is amazed again as she sees before her very eyes the God of the universe.  Every moment, her heart is filled with inexpressible joy as she stands in the presence of her Savior.  Her faith has become sight and she is well.  She's been there 6 whole months and nothing about it is "getting old."  Nothing about it seems too familiar to be amazed.  She's never once wished she could come back to earth, even on the days we'd give anything to have her back.

Her kids started a new school year this week without their mom.  I really cannot imagine what that is like--back to school shopping without mom, new teachers and friends without mom, another season of life without mom.  My heart truly hurts for those boys.

But, I have to cling to this hope in the midst of it: there is more.  There is more than what is seen, more than the pain that lingers and weighs heavily even after 6 months, more than 2 kids trying to get by without their mom.  There is a God who loves those boys more than any person ever could--even Mary. He is still on His throne and He's pointing us to our Home beyond this earth.

I think if Mary could talk to us on days like today--ones where we relive every painful, nightmarish moment leading up to her leaving this earth; ones where we are reminded that this isn't just going to "go away"--she'd say something like this:  It's going to be okay.  I know it hurts and I know that you wish you could change things or somehow see the end of this story.  But, please know that this God is everything He says He is.  He really does love His children more than you could ever imagine and He really does work all things together for good in the end.  Don't give up.  It's worth every second of pain and suffering when you see what He's prepared for those who love Him, when you see Him.  

So, that hope gets me through days like today.  I know it will be worth it in the end--for her boys, for her sisters, for her friends, for every single person affected by this, and for the sake of the Kingdom for all eternity.  It isn't just "okay" or "tolerable."  It is best.  And even after 6 months of wrestling through questions and coming up short on answers, I still believe that with all of my heart.  Mary not only believes that from a distance, but sees it day in and day out.  And someday we will too. I don't know exactly what that day will be like.  But, I imagine it will be something like what Steven Curtis Chapman says:

Though this first taste is bitter

There will be sweetness forever

When we finally taste and see

That Our God is in control

And we’ll sing

Holy Holy Holy is in our God

And we will finally really understand what it means

So we’ll sing

Holy Holy Holy is our God

While we’re waiting for that day

Sorrowful Rejoicing

The reality of the broken world in which we live has been increasingly evident to me the past few weeks.  In fact, it seems that the older I get, the more I see the fallen state of this world.

I hear more and more stories of pain and suffering and death and disease in the lives of others; stories that simply make no sense and realities that are hard to swallow.

News reports become more grotesque and hard to believe (i.e. the story of what has happened in Norway recently).

I see the damaging effects of sin in relationships and the extent of sin that is present in people (myself included).

I know many who are in blatant sin and rebellion and completely blinded to their selfishness and I know even more (again, myself included) who are trying to call people out of that sin and rebellion and selfishness to no avail. 

Even as I write this, I am holding back tears that have seemed to be more readily flowing lately.  These instances just keep pouring in.  Life is just really difficult sometimes.

And yet, in the midst of all of this, I am realizing that the older I get, the more I long for my Home.  These stories point me to the reality of eternity in ways that nothing else can.

I ache for the day when all these wrongs will be made right.

I cling to the hope that someday, pain will be erased and joy will be complete, perfect, and unending.  

And so, in the midst of the pain and discomfort and sorrow, I rejoice.

I rejoice because the things of this world are not ultimate. They are fleeting.  They will soon pass and will usher in an inexpressible beauty and peace that can't even be imagined this side of heaven.  And if I didn't feel the results of sin in such a real and present sense here on earth, I wonder that I would be able to fully love and appreciate and delight in what awaits.

I am realizing that maybe those things which are the most painful to bear, the most disheartening, are the very things that my Savior uses to remind me of all that He has won for all of eternity.  They are the ever-present reminders that there is something more.

 And so, these things become not just burdens to bear, but the very things in which I rejoice. They remind me that though I live in this world at present, my citizenship--my home--lies in the place I was created for, a place that will make every second of suffering more than worth it; a place that will make this very real and evident pain pale in comparison to the joy of eternity with our Savior that is set before us.

It's a sorrowful, beautiful, painful, devastating kind of rejoicing. And it's just another evidence of the great paradox those of us who are in Christ live in--who live in a broken and hurting world, and yet who live for an eternal and perfect Kingdom and the King who is still on His throne in the midst of it all.

"We are...as unknown, and yet well known; as dying, and behold, we live; as punished, and yet not killed; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, yet possessing everything. " 2 Corinthians 6:10

Matt Chandler on Women and Relationships

If you are a woman, please listen to this! 

Ava

I just have to share this picture of my niece Ava.  This was her on Easter Sunday.  It also happened to be her birthday the same day.  She was one happy little princess.  She put her hello kitty rainboots on to go on her Easter egg hunt.  No time for strapping on her pretty little sandals!

I really love being an aunt.  I've talked about that before here (though quite out-dated, the reasons why I love them is still the same).  One of the reasons I love it so much is that I get to see them grow up and see their little minds wrap around the idea of a big God who loves them.  I love seeing it through their eyes; it's all so much more simple. Ava is 4 and is asking lots of questions about Jesus lately.  I love them all. Sometimes it's good to get back to the basics.

He loves me.

He made me.

I can talk to Him anytime I want.

Those are the lessons Ava is learning for the very first time.  And they are lessons I want to come back to often.

I pray that beautiful little Ava grows up to be a woman who loves God and seeks Him and finds her beauty in Him.  Until then, I love seeing the process as she begins to understand who He is.  And I love all that I am being reminded of in the process.