my summer reading

I felt the need this summer to re-read the Gospels. I thought it would be a good idea to read about the life of Jesus and just get a little refresher on how he lived and what he said. I picked up a devotional book that I've had for a number of years - Solo, by Eugene Peterson. It's laid out in Lectio Divina style - Read, Reflect, Respond, Rest.

I thought I was going to be re-familiarizing myself with Jesus' life. After all, I do know all the stories, but maybe a refresher would be a good idea, and who knows, maybe I would gain some insight into some of the finer details. But, as I have consistently experienced, Jesus took this willingness to immerse myself in the Word and used it as a time to teach me about my life with him. So although I went into it thinking I would be re-familiarizing myself with Jesus' life, His plan was to re-familiarize me with my life with Him. Sound confusing? It's not, really.

So here are just a few of the areas of my life that I had opportunity to consider these past few weeks:

In Matthew 9 I read stories of healing. I took note of the areas in my life where I need healing, and read about how healing can be requested of Jesus, but also just flows from the hem of his garment. I was reminded that we can, in faith, ask for healing in various ways.

Further into Matthew, in chapters 15-17, I saw my judgmental tendencies exposed. Ouch, not pretty. But guess what? Jesus was there, ready to receive my confessions and shame and hold me in my brokenness.

Then in the book of Mark, there's a story entitled "Paralyzed and Desperate" - it's about a paralyzed man whose friends lower him through the roof of a house to seek Jesus' healing. In this story, Jesus showed me that there are times in my life when I have been in various positions: the paralyzed man who depends on others to bring him to Jesus. The friends whose faith and determination facilitates healing for another, and even the role of someone who is on the floor inside the house and observing the action.

On to Luke. I believe that if there was just one thing I was supposed to hear this summer, it is found in Luke 6:35-36 where it says "Help and give without expecting a return. You'll never - I promise - regret it. Live out this God-created identity the way our Father lives toward us, generously and graciously, even when we're at our worst." I sat with those words for several days. They still bring tears to my eyes, because they're still working their way into my heart. I cried out to God, holding the words "I promise" up to him and questioned him: Really?! I really won't regret it if I do this?? But it can be so painful! I've been hurt so often! But the words are there. They must be true. I can't say I've embraced them entirely, but Jesus has assured me that he is patient and that this is indeed what he is asking of me. Further into Luke (chapter 12) this issue is addressed again. More instruction. More promises. I feel like he really wants me to know this.

Then the book of John. Some of my favourite "belonging" passages are here, and I felt this is where I could rest after doing some pretty hard work in the book of Luke. More stories of healing, where I could find myself in the one who answered "yes!" to Jesus' question: "Do you want to get well?" (John 5:6). Stories of comfort and belonging to the Good Shepherd whose sheep know his voice and who knows his sheep by name. God won't leave me hanging. But I have to do my job of following him.

So in a rather large nutshell, that is a glimpse into my journey through the Gospels this summer. I had no idea at the outset that this is what would be in store for me. Painful realizations, joyful reuniting of my heart with his heart for me, and a renewed thirst for more of his words and promises are just a few of the things Jesus had in mind for me when I said "yes" to what was obviously his invitation to "re-familiarize myself" with his life.

I wonder what's next?

-Candice

roadblocks

I am a planner, a scheduler, an organizer. I like my routines, my calendar, and knowing what's ahead. I like to be in control of changing those plans according to what would be more suitable, make more sense, etc. So what happens when I feel control has been taken from me and plans I've made months ago suddenly get cancelled ... because of someone else's plans, circumstances, schedule etc? Well, first I feel frustrated and angry. Then some bitterness creeps in. Blame shows up. And I want to withhold grace.

That looks ugly. I certainly don't want to sit with that stuff and let it take over. What if I were open to hearing what Jesus has to say about it? What if I were attentive to what the Holy Spirit is showing me and teaching me that I could only learn and experience if I were right here instead of where I had planned to be?

These are things that I can only receive answers to if I ask. So ask is what I did. And over the next few days I opened myself to learning, experiencing and following what Jesus had for me. I find when I am open to it, I am awakened to his presence and activity, even in the smallest of things.

Would I have experienced the goodness of the Holy Spirit if my original plans had gone ahead? Quite possibly. Am I disappointed that parts of my plans had to be cancelled? Absolutely. Am I satisfied with what I have been learning and feel complete with what I've received so far? I'm still working on it.

-Candice

the garden angel

I was about to make an entry that I've been sitting with for some time now. Before I got started, I decided to take a quick peek at a dear friend's blog. I was surprised and pleased to see that just yesterday, she blogged the exact story I had planned to share today.

So instead of rewriting it, I'd like to redirect you to Andrea's blog.

She writes it so beautifully and it was a joy to read the story in her words. Thanks, Andrea!

-Candice

present in chaos

I woke up in chaos today. The details of family, home and work life were piled up on top of each other, overlapping in ways that needed immediate untangling. My usually organized and ordered approach to the day fell apart before the coffee finished brewing. I zoomed through the first hour of the day, wondering what I could eliminate or rearrange so that those things that had to get done would, and those things that could wait, could.

So this is what I did. I sat. I opened myself to God's presence in this crazy day that won't have enough hours. I did not get promises. I cannot even particularly say I'm feeling calm and ready to face whatever else might come my way today, but I agree with God that I am in his presence today. I might still forget things on my to do list. I might still feel rushed or overbooked. I don't expect God to "fix" any of that, but I can expect him to be with me.

-Candice

the prayer chair

Lately I've been paying closer attention to some of my positional habits. Locations I gravitate toward in certain situations. For example, and I think this may be true for many people: I sit in the same spot at the table every meal. I have my spot in the vehicle when we travel as a family. I sit in relatively the same spot every week at church. I have my favourite chair for reading. I sit on the same side of the couch when I watch TV.

I find this is also true when I pray. I have a "prayer chair" ... a chair where I go when I am at home and I intentionally want to engage God in dialogue. Of course I can pray from anywhere in the house, but it just feels easier to "dial down" when I'm in my prayer chair.

Recently our family was on vacation for a little over a week. While we were gone, I knew I wanted to intercede for a specific situation, and there were many times when I dialogued intentionally with God during that time. However, I was very aware of the sense of "going to" God, even though I've been growing in my awareness of God's constant presence. I'm not sure how to reconcile that, or if it's even necessary to do so.

I don't want to say that prayer is most effective, best, or most fulfilling only when I'm in familiar conditions, because I don't believe that. But I do think there's value in establishing a regular place and time for dialoguing with God. Just like a coffee shop or a candle light dinner draws out intimate dialogue between two people, my "prayer chair" is a setting for intimate dialogue with the Lord.

Will I continue to be aware of God's presence in every situation and be open to dialogue anywhere, anytime? Of course I will. But I also give thanks to a God who knows me intimately and loves to come into my presence.

-Candice

prayer - 365

I just entered the word "pray" in the search box at biblegateway.com. In the NIV default setting, there are 365 scripture references to prayer. That's one for every day of the year. Interesting. As I scanned through some of the verses, there seems to be a prayer relevant to any situation we might find ourselves in: prayers of thanksgiving and praise, prayers for help and deliverance, prayers for healing and restoration, prayers for self and prayers for others.

As I explore and grow in my understanding of prayer, I'm confident that we really can be in constant dialogue with God. We really are in his presence every moment. It is so much sweeter when there is a consciousness about it, but there's also a beautiful assurance that when we belong to God, we can't not pray.

-Candice

Lent

"One of the principal disciplines of the spiritual life is attentiveness: being alert to the simple, often subtle ways that God's grace enters our lives. Often, we have to set aside our anxious preoccupations in order to see that our days are filled with mercies." - from a lent devotional by Emilie Griffin.

I find Lent can become somewhat of a strange preoccupation. Suddenly people I never really engage in "spiritual" conversations with are asking me what I have given up for Lent. Or announce what they have given up for Lent ... usually something in the form of sugar, caffeine, or fat. I find this interesting. In hopes that I am not coming across as judgmental, I just find myself wondering what we have made Lent into when overcoming our cravings for chocolate becomes our focus during this sacred time.

There have been seasons when I've given up chocolate for Lent. Or chips, or pop. When I reflect on those times, I wonder if by doing that I actually made more room for experiencing God in my life. Was it about discipline, an attempt to identify on a miniscule level with my Savior's suffering, or participating in a ritual that I didn't really understand?

For the past number of years, I have not given up anything for Lent. For one, I am weak. I cheat constantly and that heaps on the guilt. That really does not feel like I am drawing nearer to God. When I think about my longing to draw nearer to God, I realize that it is not chocolate or chips that gets in my way. It's things that steal my time. Now of course there are things that I give my time to that I cannot give up for Lent, but there are small - and sometimes not so small - time wasting activities that I allow myself to indulge in that if they were removed, that time may be filled more purposefully.

So during Lent this year, I am choosing to make more room to experience God's presence. I wish I could say it's a daily practice, but it's not always. But when I turn away from one of my time-wasting activities, I'm reminded to raise my awareness of God's presence in every moment.

-Candice