his song of love

“The Lord your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing.” (Zephaniah 3:17)

What song do you listen to each day?  Do you listen to the song of those around you who demand that you become like them?  Do you listen to the song of the voices within you who continually tell you that you are not enough?  Or do you listen to the song of the One who made you and wants you to know the depths of his delight and affection?  Because the song you listen to the most is the song that your life will sing to others.

“Is that a joyous choir I hear?  No, it is the Lord himself exulting over you in happy song.” (Zephaniah 3:17, TLB) Listen to the song of delight and affection he is singing over you today.

your ways

sometimes i just can’t

understand your ways

much less explain them

they are too deep

and too mysterious

for my little mind to grasp

sometimes your ways

look too hard and too sad

and even a bit too harsh

to actually come from

your loving hand

but for some reason

you are the one

who brings beauty from ashes

who brings joy from sorrow

who brings life from death

who turns mourning into dancing

for how can we appreciate

beauty if not for ashes

or joy if not for sorrow

or dancing if not for mourning

for some crazy reason

you chose to bring about

the best things of this life

via the most painful

so instead of trying

to understand your ways

i will just keep on dancing

and keep on trusting

even when i can’t see

what you are up to

for your thoughts

are not my thoughts

and your ways

are not my ways

plans

"For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future." (Jeremiah 29:11)

If you want to walk with God, you had best check your plans at the door.  Life with him is as beautiful as it is demanding.  It is an amazing dance, an awesome adventure, and a challenging journey.  It is a journey in which we are not in control, he is.  We do not charge ahead with our agenda and invite him to come along.  We follow his lead; he doesn’t follow ours. 

Our job is to stay attentive to his voice, in tune with his will, and aligned with his purposes.  Life with him is about his plans, not our own.  Fortunately, his plans are to prosper us, not to harm us.  His plans give us “a hope and a future.”  His plans, although they might demand a lot of us, are always for our good, our benefit, and our growth.  We just have to trust in him.

mercy

hang on to the scar

the hurt you have caused

let it teach and guide you

into deep humility

and acute awareness

of your immense need

for divine mercy

but let go of the guilt and shame

or it will eat you up inside

it will leave you consumed

with yourself rather than

consumed with your God

you can’t fix this mess

because you’re not

supposed to be able to fix it

that is the work of hands

much bigger than yours

so the scar remains

as a reminder of the hurt

that is still being healed

but will one day make all

stronger than ever before

but with a different

kind of strength

welcome to this new land

the world of weakness

where living from your flaws

and failures and frailties

opens you up to His strength

and His divine mercy

shepherd and sheep

The Lord is my shepherd; I am his sheep.  He will take full and complete care of me; I do not need to worry.  In a barren land, he finds me green pastures and makes me lie down.  In a dry and arid place, he leads me to still waters where I can drink and be refreshed and renewed.  He guides me in the good way, so I don’t get lost or confused, all for his name’s sake. 

Even when the stench of death surrounds me and darkness overwhelms me, I will not fear for he is right in the middle of it with me, protecting me and directing me with his staff and his rod.  His love and his power bring me so much peace and comfort. 

He sets a table for the two of us to share an elaborate and intimate meal together.  He pours fragrant and healing oil on my head to show me that I am loved and valued.  My heart, just like my cup at his table, is always filled to overflowing with abundance and delight.  He pursues me unceasingly with his goodness and his unfailing love, so that I may live in his house, with him, forever.

little lamb arise

 I went out looking for Jesus one day.  My twelve-year-old daughter, the light of my life and the joy of my heart, was on the verge of death.  Jesus was our last hope.  I didn’t want to leave her side, but I was desperate.  So, after I heard that he was returning from the region of the Gerasenes, I went out to meet him. 

Unfortunately, I was not alone.  Thousands of people were waiting on the shore that day for his boat to return.  Word had spread; people were everywhere!  I’d never seen such crowds.  But I was determined.  If he could help my little girl, I would walk through hot coals to make that happen.  She was everything to me, the apple of my eye, and she was dying.  There are no lengths a desperate father will not go to in order to help his beloved child.

Luckily, I was able to make my way to him.  It doesn’t hurt, I suppose, to be a synagogue ruler after all.  Thus, the crowds parted and before I knew it, I found myself face down on the ground before him, pleading for the healing of my little lamb.  And when he agreed to come with me, I was overjoyed.  A glimmer of hope began to grow in my heart.

But before we had gone twenty feet, he stopped and started looking around.  He said someone had “touched his clothes.”  Of course someone had touched his clothes, there were people crowding all around him.  His disciples even reminded him of that.  But he insisted on finding who it was.

Then a woman fell down before him on the road and admitted that she was the one who had touched him.  She went on to tell him that she had been bleeding for twelve years and had tried everything to be healed of her affliction, but instead of getting better, she had just gotten worse.  He waited patiently as she told him the whole story—twelve long years’ worth.  The same amount of time my little girl had been alive. 

I was starting to get a little panicky and frustrated over the delay, until I heard what he said to her: “Daughter, your faith has healed you.  Go in peace and be freed from your suffering.”  He called her daughter.  This woman was someone’s little girl too.  In fact, he wanted her to know that she was his little girl.  She was God’s daughter.  You see, he was not just healing her body but also healing her soul.  She needed to know that she mattered.  She needed to know that she was valuable.  She needed to know that she was loved.  And now she did. 

From that moment on, I knew everything would be okay.  I knew my little girl was in good hands.  Even after some of my friends met us on the road telling us that my daughter was dead, Jesus was not deterred.  He never flinched.  He just kept walking. 

To make a long story short, he came into our house and brought peace to our chaos, joy to our sorrow, and life to our death.  He took our daughter by the hand and whispered in her ear, “Little lamb, arise!”  How could he have known that’s what I called her?  Absolutely amazing!  And as soon as he took her hand, our little lamb stood up.  She was alive again!  Jesus had entered into our desperation and brought celebration, taken away death and brought about life.  Only God could do something like that.  

That day I learned a valuable lesson: When it comes to life in the kingdom, desperation creates some of the very best soil for God to do his work.

a prayer of transformation

“Dear Lord, it does not take much for me to forget you. The world, my world, has so many ways of demanding my attention that I quickly allow myself to be turned away from you. You are present in this world, in my life, in all that happens. But your presence is quiet, gentle, and unspectacular. Silence, solitude, quiet prayer, a peaceful conversation, and reflective reading help me to recognize that you are with me, that you call me, that you challenge me and, most of all, that you invite me into your house of peace and joy. Yet the loud voices of the world, the endless variety of “musts” and “oughts” and the illusion that everything has the quality of an emergency, all these things pull me away from the place where you dwell and make me live as if I and not you have to save the world.

A few days away from this house of prayer has made it very clear how easily I am seduced into thinking that everything except you is worth time, attention, and effort. Lord, I pray tonight that you deepen and strengthen my awareness of your presence, so that I can live in the world without being of it. Let the last two months of my stay in this monastery make my encounter with you as strong and deep and lasting as that of Saul on the road to Damascus, so that I can see the world with the new sight you are giving me. Amen.” ~from A Cry for Mercy by Henri Nouwen

desperation and dependence

What is Jesus trying to teach you during this season of your journey?

For me it comes down to two words that are intimately connected: desperation and dependence.  Desperation is that “end of your rope” feeling that Peterson talks about in his interpretation of the Beatitudes: “You’re blessed when you’re at the end of your rope.  With less of you there is more of God and his rule.” (Mt. 5:3, MSG) It is a feeling that comes from a deep sense of despair, an overwhelming feeling of helplessness and powerlessness.  And it leaves us with a very deep realization of our complete and total dependence upon something, or Someone, outside ourselves to come to our aid. 

Thus, desperation creates some of the very best soil for God to do his work in and through you because you are totally out of the way.  A stripping away of strength, adequacy, competence, pride, self-importance, and self-sufficiency has taken place and left us nothing to rely on except the grace and power and love of God.  Which makes us cry out, like so many in the Scriptures and beyond: “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me.”  Because mercy is where our desperation meets God’s unfailing love.  It is the stuff of genuine transformation.

So, what’s Jesus teaching you lately?  I would really love to hear.

sanctification

a stripping away

a peeling back of the layers

of strength and adequacy 

of self-importance 

and self-sufficiency 

until nothing is left

i stand naked 

and alone

before you

and you say

finally

i see you

the real you

and it’s the most

beautiful thing

I’ve ever seen

God's mercy is greater than my sin

Henri Nouwen once wrote: “God’s mercy is greater than our sins.”  Unfortunately, we don’t always live that way.  “There is an awareness of sin,” he continues, “that does not lead to God but to self-preoccupation.”  We get so focused on our sin that we take our eyes off our God.  “Our temptation,” Nouwen concludes, “is to be so impressed by our own sins and failings and so overwhelmed by our lack of generosity that we get stuck in a paralyzing guilt.  It is the guilt that says, ‘I am too sinful to deserve God’s mercy.’  It is the guilt that leads to introspection instead of directing our eyes to God.”  Ever been there before?  I know I have.

I get so preoccupied with my sin that I fail to even acknowledge (much less experience) God’s mercy.  I get stuck inside myself and can’t seem to get out, wallowing around in my guilt and shame to the point where I never allow God to come and bathe me in his mercy and love.  Instead, I get caught in a decaying orbit of gloom, despair, and hopelessness rather than claiming the love and life and forgiveness God offers.

“Have mercy on me, O God, according to your unfailing love,” say the words of the ancient prayer.  “According to your great compassion blot out my transgressions, wash away all my iniquities, and cleanse me of my sin.  For I know my transgressions and my sin is ever before me.” (Ps. 51:1-3) But I also know the depths of your mercy, and that makes all the difference.  Your mercy really is greater than my sin.  It is enough to cleanse me so that I will be clean, to wash me so that I will be whiter than snow.  Help me to truly believe that, O God.  Help me to believe that your mercy is, indeed, greater than all my sin.  For only then will I be free.

a prayer for silence

O Lord Jesus, your words to your Father were born out of your silence.  Lead me into this silence, so that my words may be spoken in your name and thus be fruitful.  It is so hard to be silent, silent with my mouth, but even more, silent with my heart.  There is so much talking going on within me.  It seems that I am always involved in inner debates with myself, my friends, my enemies, my supporters, my opponents, my colleagues, and my rivals.  But this inner debate reveals how far my heart is from you.  If I were simply to rest at your feet and realize that I belong to you and you alone, I would easily stop arguing with all the real and imagined people around me.  These arguments show my insecurity, my fear, my apprehensions, and my need for being recognized and receiving attention.  You, O Lord, will give me all the attention I need if I would simply stop talking and start listening to you.  I know that in the silence of my heart you will speak to me and show me your love.  Give me, O Lord, that silence.  Let me be patient and grow slowly into this silence in which I can be with you.  Amen. ―A Cry for Mercy by Henri Nouwen

 

doors

there are doors

that open in our lives

and if we have the courage

to step through them

we will be met by Jesus

on the other side

he will lead us deeper

into his great heart of love

and what looked like a crisis

becomes a conversion

an invitation into

intimacy and affection

beyond our wildest dreams

every crisis offers a conversion

if we are willing to embrace it

and meet Jesus in the midst of it

nothing

Lord

i am nothing

apart from you

i can do nothing

except by your

grace and mercy

and i long to be

filled with nothing

but your unfailing love

be everything

in my nothingness

attunement

O God

may my heart

be your heart

may my eyes

be your eyes

may my soul

be one with you

may my hope

be in you alone

may it always be

all of you and

none of me

cease striving

cease striving 

and know

that I am God

that means

stop building

stop performing

stop proving

stop earning

it means

stop jockeying

stop climbing

stop competing

stop comparing

just stop

be still

and know me

I will do the rest

overflowing with hope

“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” (Romans 15:13)

It’s impossible to separate the presence of true and lasting hope in our lives—and, thus, joy and peace—from the concept and reality of resurrection.  Hope that is not eternal is no hope at all; it is just wishful thinking.  Hope involves something much more substantial.  Hope involves a surety and a joyful expectation of the good that is to come. 

Maybe that’s why hope is not something we typically think about very often.  Our minds are too occupied with temporary things to dwell on eternal ones.  We love to think about our hearts overflowing with life or love or joy, things that are more tangible, but what about overflowing with hope?  What does that even look like? 

Overflowing with hope means that our lives are not determined by our current circumstances, but by a loving and good God who is always working for our eternal benefit and always bringing life out of the jaws of death.  In God’s economy, life always wins—resurrection always follows crucifixion.  A life overflowing with hope sees that; it is able to see beyond the immediate to the everlasting.

O, God of hope, may my life and my spirit be filled to overflowing with all the joy and the peace and the love and the hope that life with you has to offer.  May I never be tempted to put my hope in the things of this world—my own strengths, abilities, or circumstances—but to put my hope ever and always only in you.

disappear

disappear into Me

and you will finally find

the intimacy and the union

you so deeply long for

bask

we can beg for mercy

but we must bask in grace

it cannot be earned

it cannot be achieved

it can only be received

grace is lavished upon us

all that’s required is openness

willingness to bathe ourselves

in his goodness and his love

fly

come to the edge of the nest

hear the invitation of God

receive his gentle push

leave the safety and security

of what you have known

and take the leap into

the vast unknown

soar into the heavens

on the winds of his breath

take flight and become

all you were created to be

christmas in july

Okay, so I know it’s not July yet, but close enough.  I also know that the whole idea of new birth is gaining a ton of life in me these days.  Mostly because I feel like it’s what God is inviting me to―a quality and depth of life that I have not yet known.  In fact, it’s what he’s inviting all of us to.  It’s the way that he’s doing it that’s surprising, although it should not be.  The way to this new life is through my weakness, frailty, and vulnerability.  It’s coming through embracing my humanity.  It’s coming, as Sue Monk Kidd so beautifully writes, through the dung and the straw:

     “In the passage of emergence, as birthing begins, the soul becomes a nativity.  The whole Bethlehem pageant starts up inside us.  An unprecedented new star shines in our darkness―a new illumination and awareness.  God sends Wisdom to visit us, bearing gifts.  The shepherding qualities inside us are summoned to help tend what’s being born.  The angels sing and a whole new music begins to float in the spheres.  Some new living, breathing dimension of the life of Christ emerges with a tiny cry that says, I am.

     One of the best parts of the whole drama is that it happens in the dung and straw of our life, just as it happened in the dung and straw of Bethlehem. Birthing Christ is an experience of humility. Emerging to newness after the rigors of the cocoon isn’t a spiritual ‘promotion.’ There’s no presentation of a twenty-four-carat halo and a fancy new Christian persona without scuffs. If we’re consumed with holy pride, convinced that we’re spiritually ‘right’ and on a higher plane than others, we haven’t birthed a wider experience of the inner Christ but a new creation of the ego.

     The Christ life doesn’t divorce us from our humanity: it causes us to embrace it. It makes us more human. It humbles us. Genuine transformation always connects us to our essential nature, both sacred and profane. When we go through its passages, we plumb the depths of our humanity. We become intimate with what lies inside—the wild and untamed, the orphaned and abused, the soiled and unredeemed. We hold our falseness in our hands and trace our fingers over the masks we wear, like a blind person feeling the unseen faces of those she wants to know. We stare into the sockets of our pain and glimpse the naked truth of who we are.

     All this we bring with us into the new life. It ushers us into a new humility. Oh, yes, no doubt about it. We birth Christ, on a pile of ordinary straw.” (from When the Heart Waits by Sue Monk Kidd)

Christ wants to be born anew in us, but that new birth is most likely to come in our places of greatest weakness and vulnerability. In the dung and in the straw of our own humanity.  In our flaws and in our frailty, that's where his transforming power shows up best.

Lord Jesus, in this world we are most likely to find you in the dung and the straw.  Help us not to be afraid to look for you there.

come home

come home to yourself

not the home you have built

but the one built for you

strip away the layers

of accumulated wallpaper

and get down to the original

to what is true and real

it’s going to take a while

to undo the ego patterns

and unravel the illusions

and deconstruct the story

you have created for yourself

it will not be easy to strip away 

the manufactured self

the one that doesn’t really exist

but in the end it will all be worth it

the home you’ve been living in

is not really your home

but merely a construction of

your deepest wounds

and your greatest fears

so come home to yourself

if you have the nerve

God will be your guide

he is the only one who

can show you the way

but it will not be easy

stripping and undoing

and unravelling 

and emptying 

never is

let him take you there

in God

God in us

the hope of glory

us in God

the intimacy of 

divine union

becoming bartimaeus

there is a beggar

inside each of us

dying to get out

longing to be set free

from the illusion of

strength and adequacy

a lowly pauper

waiting to be seen

and acknowledged

yearning to live out of

authentic dependence

neediness and weakness

instead of trying to

fool the world via

autonomy and control

but in order to make the leap

from falsehood to truth

we must be willing to

put on our beggar's clothes

and allow the deepest cry

of our hearts to be

Lord, have mercy on me

only then do we have

any real hope of finding

genuine transformation

wait for the Lord

What does it mean to wait for the Lord?  What does it really look like?  And why do we have such a hard time doing it?

As a culture, we’re really not into waiting—for anything.  And when we do it’s usually only because we have no other choice.  And if we’re honest, even when we do try to wait for the Lord, we’re really not waiting for him but for a favorable outcome or a change in circumstance.  Most of the time, our version of waiting for the Lord is just trying to use him to get what we want.  He is not the end, but merely a means to our preferred end.  And anytime we approach God not as the end, but as a means to an end, we’re not really approaching him at all.  We’re only trying to get our way or further our agenda.  And that’s not what waiting for the Lord is at all. 

Waiting for the Lord is just that—waiting for the Lord. Waiting for the Lord is laying aside our plans and schemes and agendas.  It is letting go of autonomy and control.  It is surrendering our wants and needs.  Waiting for the Lord is a refusal to try and manage, maneuver, or manipulate outcomes.  It is standing before God totally empty and fully open, willing to do whatever he asks and to go wherever he leads.  Waiting for the Lord is the determination not to charge ahead until we receive a word from him.

Waiting for the Lord is not just something we do until the Lord shows up.  Waiting for the Lord is God showing up.  It is through waiting for him that we are changed.  We are not waiting for transformation; it is in the waiting that God is transforming us.  We cannot do it ourselves.

Thus, waiting for the Lord involves a total dependence upon God.  It involves the realization that we cannot do things on our own.  For whenever we try to do it on our own, we cease to wait for the Lord.  That’s why the psalm says: “For God alone my soul waits in silence.”

human

i've decided to give myself

the freedom to be human

which is of course what i am

although i have spent a lot

of time and energy trying to

convince people otherwise

because any fall from grace

definitely leaves a mark

especially if it's from a height

but being human is so much

better than the alternative

albeit incredibly messy at times

it can cause a good bit of

disappointment and hurt 

but isn't that better than being

someone who does not even exist

real love comes only when you

allow others to see all of you

not just the pretty parts

all your flaws and frailties

all your failures and foibles

all your weaknesses

and vulnerabilities

for it is not until others

discover your humanness

and embrace it themselves

that there can be real relationship

that they can love the real you

for until there is true being

their love was not about you 

but was about them 

and who they needed 

or wanted you to be

and that is not really love

so i've decided to give myself

the freedom to be human

because being anything

other than that is a burden

too great for anyone to bear

clinging

help me not to cling

to how it was

because how it was

can keep me from

all that is to be

changes

the lines on  

my hands 

and my face  

tell the story 

time marches on 

it waits for no one 

 

seasons come  

and season go 

letting go becomes 

standard fare 

best get good at it 

 

children turn into adults 

knees get weaker 

eyesight begins to fail 

but God’s unfailing love 

and continual faithfulness 

endure forever