there is not one without the other

"For God loved the world so much that he gave his one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in him will not perish but have eternal life." John 3:16 NLT

restore my soul

I love reading books that are rich in description both of setting and character. My mind creates images that often become a part of me as the story unfolds. This might sound lovely, but at times it is not. It seems that images of the unlovely are what stay with me (which is why I've also become very good at skimming as I read!) This has also led me to be rather selective in what I choose to open my mind to, because I know that once something's in there, it's hard to get it out!

The same goes with movies, just on a bit more of an intense level. Because now I'm exposed to images of someone else's making, with the soundtrack to go with it. Not that long ago, I went to a movie with a few other people. The heart of the theme really was redemptive violence. It was horrible and graphic. Even with my eyes squeezed shut and my fingers in my ears for most of the movie, some images still made their way into my mind, and continue to resurface and force me to deal with them.

In Romans 12:2 it says "Do not conform any longer to the patterns of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is -- his good, pleasing and perfect will." (NIV)
In a way that gives me comfort: if one of the patterns of this world is redemptive violence, then being highly sensitive to images and portrayals of that is a way of not accepting that pattern.

That still doesn't get awful images out of my head though. So one afternoon as I was going for a walk and again those images resurfaced and threatened to overtake my rational thinking, I held up some scripture in defense. I began to think through Psalm 23 (one of my meeting places) and I found myself repeating the words "he restores my soul". He restores my soul.

Restores: According to Webster, "to bring back to or put back into a former or original state: renew".

My soul: that part of me that is the essence of myself as God has created me and the place where I am in community with God through the Holy Spirit.

He restores my soul. I have this longing to be brought back to the original state of God's creation of my soul.

What if I asked for him to restore my soul on a daily basis? Or an hourly basis, because I can so quickly get off track? What if we each did that? Could we break the patterns of this world?

He restores my soul.

-Candice

new meeting place

Today I thought I wanted to listen to God. No actually I thought I wanted to talk to God. I have questions for him. I want to tell him what's going on inside my head. He obviously knows what's going on inside my head, even better than I do. Because these last couple of days, as I've been trying to sort out my thoughts to better cry out to him (how's that for trying to stay in control?!) he's been gently and consistently inviting me to ... sit and relax with him.

I have several meeting places in my heart that I can access when I pray. And I have not been going to any of those in the last while. It turns out God has been preparing another one for me. It speaks to the needs I have right now: warmth. Quiet. Intimacy. As I allow this image to be revealed inside my heart, and settle into it, he has been speaking to me. Scripture that has held meaning for me is resurfacing. I can speak out my questions. I can let loose what's been taking up so much space in my head.

And I'm waiting to hear what he has to say about all of this. For now I'm getting this image of intimacy and peace. I understand this to mean it's time for me to sit and experience what he has for me right now. It's a good image. Though I still have questions. I still long for clarity about my "stuff". But I can sit here with him. Because there's no place I'd rather be.

-Candice

the right way

I try to do the right thing. I usually know what it is, and want to do it. Often it's not big moral dilemmas, or really tempting situations, but mostly things that fall under the category of "obligation". Like how I care for my family and my home. How I relate to those around me. How I spend my time. There's usually a "right" response in every situation.

Doing the right thing is usually an easy choice. But the attitude I bring to it, or even the feelings I keep inside don't always necessarily match up with my choices and actions. So then am I still doing the right thing?

This morning I read these words in Isaiah 56: "Do what's right and do it in the right way". I went on to read the rest of the chapter, but my eyes continually went back to that line in verse 1. I take that to mean God has something he wants me to focus on there. As I asked him what he wants me to know today, I was also reminded of the words in 1 Corinthians 13. The whole chapter is worth reading through, but I was specifically brought to the idea that without love, I'm nothing.

What if I did the right thing and did it with love? Consistently, in every situation? How would that affect the way I do the right thing? For one thing, the word "obligation" would probably disappear. Wouldn't that be nice? And wouldn't those around me be touched by that love? The love that actually comes from the Father?

My prayer for myself today is that I do what's right and do it in the right way. He assures me he has enough love to cover it. What if we all prayed that today?

-Candice

boats that float

A few days ago, I wanted to engage in a prayer exercise I learned a while back: that of visualizing boats going by and putting my "stuff" on the boats, releasing them to float away. In a bit of a desperate moment, I took something that has been weighing me down lately, heaved it onto the boat ... and watched the boat sink. What was that about?! Disgusted and disappointed, I gave up on the exercise.

My inner monk craves discipline, chunks of time, silence, and solitude to engage in prayer. My present reality gives me just about everything but that. Is it possible to pray on the fly? (and be meaningful?) To be in constant dialogue with God? When it seems so "hit and miss", is it worth it? Does this have anything to do with that boat sinking?

I had the opportunity yesterday to ask God some of these questions. Actually I started by asking "why pray?" (just curious!) Almost immediately the response was: "yes, why pray?" So I thought about listening, about intercession, about the verse I've been claiming from Isaiah (see previous post), about answered prayer/unanswered prayer ... but the peace and light came when I settled with the idea of communication with God. I thought about my richest, most valuable relationships. Communication and time spent together is key to the closeness we experience.

And about those chunks of time vs praying on the fly? Well not all my interactions with those I'm in meaningful relationship with are deep and life-changing. Some are exchanges of information. Some are quick check-ins. But all are part of the relationship.

But I wanted to know one more thing: what about the boat that sank under my burden? Well it seems I manufactured that boat. I didn't ask for it to come from him. His boats don't sink. Right.

-Candice

ask for the moon

This morning as I was reading from the book of Isaiah, a few words jumped off the page.

God spoke again ... "Ask for a sign from your God. Ask anything. Be extravagant. Ask for the moon!" (Isaiah 7:10)

I'm sitting with that, trying to grasp the thought that God encourages us to ask anything. Anything! What does anything mean? How about extravagant? What does that mean?

The part of me that battles selfishness wants to close my ears to this. The part of me that wants the moon is breathless with excitement. What could this mean for individuals, for families, for the church? What if we asked extravagantly in situations that seem hopeless, overwhelming, or just too huge to even think that one person's prayers will make a difference? What if we prayed this way for others as well as for ourselves?

Ask anything. Be extravagant. Ask for the moon!

-Candice

my place in the field

On a couple of occasions lately I've wished I were the harvester. Usually I feel content with being the tiller of the soil, even the planter of the seed and often the waterer ... but rarely am I the harvester.

Two scriptures that illustrate this analogy, and that have been rattling around in my brain, begging to be blogged I guess, are these:

1 Corinthians 2:6 - I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God made it grow.

Luke 10:2 - He told them, "The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field.

I've been crying out to the Lord to put me in the field as a harvester, since they're so few. And he's gently led me to read the words around each of these verses, and to recognize myself there. In 1 Corinthians, I am reminded that I am a servant with a task, and all glory belongs to God. Of course. And He had a sweet surprise for me when I sat with Luke 10 ... the harvest is plentiful because of those that till, plant and water. Servant though I am, this was a humbling reminder.

Can I say I'm at peace with this? Not entirely. He seems to be okay with that ... as long as I keep bringing my questions to him. He shows me my true identity. Embracing it is my challenge.

-Candice

more of you and less of me

I've been having a hard time lately settling my thoughts. Even though my body may be at rest, my mind seems to buzz at a hundred miles an hour.

I've sensed the Lord inviting me to be still and know that he is God. My heart longs for this. My mind does not seem to allow me to have this. I've tried to "capture every thought", but that seems impossible as there are so many of them, and no sooner have I caught one than it escapes again or another goes whizzing by.

God has a better idea for me. I was given the image of a thread, connected to me and floating away from me. At the end of the thread is a thought. In this image, a scissor simply snips the thread and the thought floats away. Gone. But there are more threads. One at a time, they can be snipped. I have not been able to have them all snipped in one sitting, but there certainly has been something very freeing about visualizing those threads simply floating off into oblivion. I have no responsibility to chase after them or do anything with them.

And with each thread snipped, there is more room for closeness with God. John 3:30 in the NLT says "He must become greater and greater; I must become less and less".

-Candice

May the Lord bless ... me?!

As I faced another day of forcing myself out of the house and into the cold in the morning, I suddenly felt desparate for prayer. I started thinking about calling someone to ask for ... what? I didn't exactly know. I just knew that I've been thinking lately about wanting to be desparate for prayer, and now I was actually feeling desparate for prayer.

But I didn't make any calls. I thought about a book I had started reading last night, with a scripture reference that I had meant to look up but didn't at the time. The author mentioned she had preached a sermon in seminary on Numbers 6:22-27. I had wondered what a seminary student would find in Numbers to preach on in class?!

So this morning I looked it up. It's a blessing I am familiar with:

"The LORD bless you
and keep you;

the LORD make his face shine upon you
and be gracious to you;

the LORD turn his face toward you
and give you peace."

And I started praying it for myself, with some desparation, because I realized this is what my heart was longing for: May the Lord bless me ... May his face shine upon me ... and give me peace...

A selfish prayer? Try praying it for yourself and you'll find out.

-Candice

Settling into Babylon

I've been sitting with Jeremiah 29:4-14 these past few weeks. The familiar and comforting verse 11 is tucked right in the middle of it. Though that was not what God has been using to teach me lately. In this passage, God's message is for the Israelites who are exiles in Babylon. Verse 7 is where my eyes were opened.

"Make yourselves at home there and work for the country's welfare. Pray for Babylon's well-being. If things go well for Babylon, things will go well for you."

It speaks to my need to try to pray my way out of situations, places, seasons of life etc. Out of Babylon, and out of exile. But it sounds like God is asking me to actually make my home in a place of exile. To raise a family there. To plant a garden. To stay for awhile. And, amazingly, to pray for Babylon's well-being. What would that look like? If I draw some parallels to what my personal Babylons are, what would it look like for me to pray for the well-being of a place of exile? The promise is right there: If things go well for Babylon, things will go well for me.

What if that's true?

-Candice