Thankful Heart

"Father, I desire that they also whom You gave Me may be with Me where I am, that they may behold My glory which You have given Me; for You loved Me before the foundation of the world.  O righteous Father!  The world has not known You, but I have known You; and these have known that You sent Me.  And I have declared to them Your name and will declare it, that the love with which You loved Me may be in them, and I in them."  John 17:24-26

Melancholic and analytical by nature, I can become obsessed with the reasoning of theology, the Bible, or even in regard to circumstances.  I am diagnosed as: skitzo-effective with severe depression.  Doesn't sound very cheerful, does it?  What it means is that I have to be sensitive to my moods.  If I am feeling down, not feeling thankful, or have become obsessed for any length of time with something, I have to take action, or it can mean a downward spiral in my mental health.  Those who are close to me are aware of this.  They help me keep a close watch.

This morning, I was thinking how in this holiday season some people will find themselves in harder situations than they have ever known before.  Situations which may involve the health and welfare of a loved one, mental or physical illness, troubled relationships, the economy, the loss of someone dear, or even having to face death, oneself.  Others may have memories that have been dormant in their minds till the holidays, but now, memories of an abusive parent, a very hard childhood, the loss of a sibling or a child or a parent or a mate, surface to trouble them.  The list of possibilities goes on and on.  Even those who seem to glide through life untouched by suffering, who really knows what they may be going through?

Suffering should not take us by surprise. Paul said that those who would live godly lives through Christ Jesus would suffer.  

(See 2 Timothy 3:12)  Christ promised that things would not be easy for His followers.  (See John 16:33) But it is through our suffering that God’s glory is revealed.  Paul saw his suffering as an opportunity to spread the gospel, but it was no less suffering.  In times of difficulty or suffering, we also see God’s faithfulness.  And in those times, who or what we are trusting in may be revealed—the condition of the heart.  Steve Brown, in his "Holiday Magazine" says, "Those aren't even the issues, though.  The issue is God.  Run to him.  Thanksgiving will be natural."

One night when only my dad and I were home, his sitter had just left and I thought he was settled in for the night, I sat down to read a book.  I heard my name: "Deborah!"  I ran to my dad’s side and asked, "What, Dad?  Are you ok?"  He said, "Yes, I just want to talk."  I sat down in the rocker nearby and listened carefully.  "What is it, Dad?" 

My dad began to ask me about the family.  "How are the kids?  They are ok, aren't they?  How is Tammy?"  (Tammy is my sister.)  I said, "We are all fine dad."  We named everyone and talked about how each one was doing.  I wanted to reassure him.   Then my dad said, "I won't bother you anymore."  I said, "Dad you don't understand.  I came here to be with you.  I love you.  You are my dad.  You are a good dad and a good grandpa."

 My dad then asked:  "You want to lie down over there?"  He pointed to the twin bed next to his hospital bed.  I climbed in.  He said, "Now isn't that more comfortable?"  I said, "Yeah, Dad, it is great."

As I lay there looking at him through the dim light shining from the next room, he remained silent, touching the rails that keep him safely confined.  As he tried to move his weak legs, he placed his hands on his chest.  I began to pray, "Lord help me know what to say." 

"Dad, do you know what Jesus says?"  "What?" he asked.  "Jesus says he will never leave us."  Tears of thankfulness rolled down my cheeks. 

"Yeah, he will never leave us," my dad repeated.

"Jesus says that nothing can separate us from his love," I added. 

 My dad said again, "He will never leave us."  Then we prayed, thanking Jesus.

 So this holiday—listen.  God is calling your name.  Do you hear it?  Run to Him.  He just wants to talk to you, and for you to lie down and rest beside him.  You’ll find Him, and He will give you a thankful heart—the only kind He can give.

Prayer: 

God—Father, Son, and Spirit—I thank you that we can come to you no matter what the condition of our heart, or whatever our circumstances.  We don't have to try to fix ourselves in order to come to you.  We can’t.  But Christ has already made the way for us.  We are perfect in your sight.  Thank you that you are zealous for us.  You are relentless in bringing us into your presence.  Fix our longing hearts on you.  May our hearts be one as you are One.

Markers of Time

“Those twelve stones which they had taken from the Jordan, Joshua set up at Gilgal.  He said to the sons of Israel, ‘When your children ask their fathers in time to come, saying, “What are these stones” then you shall inform your children, saying, “Israel crossed this Jordan on dry ground.’”  For the LORD your God dried up the waters of the Jordan before you until you had crossed, just as the LORD your God had done to the Red Sea, which He dried up before us until we had crossed; that all the peoples of the earth may know that the hand of the LORD is mighty, so that you may fear the LORD your God forever.”  Joshua 4:20-24 (NASB95)

This coming year marks the 30-year reunion of the 1981 National Championship at Clemson.  I remember that time so vividly.  We were headed to Miami to play in the Orange Bowl for the National Title.  I remember how, all week, the reporters talked about “the powerhouse,” the University of Nebraska, and their proven coach, Tom Osborne, was there to play Clemson.  (Clemson who?  From where?)  

Danny was a young coach then, only 31.   I was 30.  Our team, which was much smaller in size than the Nebraska team, had gone down two weeks earlier to become conditioned to the warmer weather.  It was middle of the winter in South Carolina.  At that time, we had two little girls and a baby.  Trying to pack for those weather conditions at that time of year was quite a chore.  Then having to deal with things that didn’t go right, such the kids’ suitcase with all their clothes (and some of mine) being lost.  I think I kept a headache that whole week.  But I kept telling Danny, “If we win, this will be worth it.”  

It happened.  We won!   Having also gone undefeated that season, we were voted National Champions.  One thing my husband could instill in a player was how to play with his heart.  He developed a player’s talent and work ethic to make a winning player.  He had his team’s respect and they gave ll0% of themselves to him.  Yet as wonderful a win as it was, with all the honors that go along with that kind of success, somehow, I couldn’t let myself really enjoy God’s blessing to us, and my husband’s gift to our family.  Something was wrong in my heart, and even the win couldn’t fix it.

It was several years later, around 1989 when I met with a relative of my pastor.  My pastor and his wife had known that I had been struggling, and had been very supportive of our family.  I sat with this lady for about an hour, telling her how hard I had tried to be the best Christian, best wife, and best mother I could be.  But it wasn’t enough.  I still felt miserable.  She said, "Deborah, I think you have sin in your heart:  resentment, bitterness, and anger.  For what seemed like an eternity, I sat there looking at her.  I thought to myself, “She hasn’t heard a word I have said.” 

After stewing for awhile, the Spirit began to work in my heart.  I saw that this woman’s thinking about me was right.  There was resentment and bitterness and anger in my heart.  When I confessed my sin, I was cleansed.  I was filled with love and joy!

This brought me into a new way of thinking about the gospel.  This was the beginning of me realizing that I need the gospel—repentance and faith—everyday.  It wasn’t just for that one moment in time when I first became a Christian.  This was a major step in learning to enjoy love and intimacy with Jesus and the Father, through the Spirit.  I was being set free.

First, God had been faithful to show me that the blessings of great success can’t compensate for not having a right heart with Him.  Then He was also faithful to identify the sin areas in my heart which needed my confession, Him giving me the heart change of repentance, and His forgiveness.   

Those are only two markers of time in which I recognize God’s faithfulness.  There are many more markers of time, but I will never forget what God did through these two in my life.  I have told these stories many times over the years.  Sometimes when I have been struggling again to believe, or when God has not seemed near and I felt depressed, in a dry and barren place.  Sometimes just in reminiscing with God, thanking Him for how He has used all things in my life for my good and His glory.  And many times during worship, I remind myself of God’s past work in my life.  I reflect.  I remember, and I tell these stories of “markers of time.” 

God uses our stories of His faithfulness to increase and strengthen faith in us, and in others.  It reminds us of the hope we have in Him for the present and the future.  For me, I feel strengthened physically, and I feel my joy restored.  I can once again rest at His feet.  I return to His embrace.  I am surrounded in His love.  I return to walk in His presence, in love, by faith.  I begin again to remember the promises, and that they are for me.  It gives Him glory.  This is why I remember.  This is why I write.

The most important marker in time is the death, burial, and resurrection of Christ.  That is the gospel.  He felt the pain and paid the price for our sins, guilt, and shame, so that we might have a personal relationship with Him, with the Father, and with the Spirit.

Christ incarnated—He lived the life I could not live, and then gave it to me in the gift of His righteousness.  He—God, in person—can now sympathize with our sufferings and our temptations, because He knows what it is to be fully man.  Now I can come boldly to the throne of grace with confidence and love and affection for Him who delights in me, and who enjoys being with me.  He’s the one who loves me no matter how much I fail.  I can come to the Father who sees no sin when He sees me.  I can rest, mind, body, and soul, in His loving affection for me.  I can return to that unspeakable joy, and the peace that passes all understanding.  I enjoy eternity with Him, beginning now.

Our God is not some deity who is distant and far off, or to be worshiped only on Sunday or Christmas or Easter.  I can know Christ, the Father, and the Spirit.  My God is one who cares, who has been brought near, and who longs to be the lover of my soul.  He desires to be first in my life, and for me to take confidence in His love, so that I exist in that love every moment of every day, and I give it away.  

 To Him who is worthy of all our worship and praise.

Made for Worship

"But the time is coming—it has, in fact, come—when what you’re called will not matter and where you go to worship will not matter."  

"That’s the kind of people the Father is out looking for: those who are simply and honestly themselves before him in their worship."

God is sheer being itself—Spirit. Those who worship him must do it out of their very being, their spirits, their true selves, in adoration."

It’s who you are and the way you live that count before God. Your worship must engage your spirit in the pursuit of truth.  

John 4:21-24 (The Message)

We are going to worship something.  Our hearts and minds and souls were created to worship God.  The reason we struggle is because of our bent to worship someone or something other than God.  Like cob webs, these other things trap us, each strand pulling us in opposite directions.  They are illusions that promise us enjoyment or peace, or that our every need will be met—that once we have that person or that thing which we desire, we will be satisfied.  So we work to that end and offer our worship. 

The counterfeit, the idol, the false god, grabs our immediate attention.  Then it demands more and more of our loyalty.  It sucks the very life from us because, in the end, it does not give what it has promised.  It does not have the power to give, and it can never be enough.  It is a false gospel.

To me, to worship in truth, means to worship in the truth of who we are and who God is.   Brennan Manning in “Abba’s Child” talks about how we refuse to be our true self with others, and with God.  He says that one of the great preoccupations we now have is our weight—that it is the imposter within us.  He paraphrases Cardinal Wolsey:  Would that I had served my God the way I have watched my waistline!

At a young age, I became preoccupied with approval and beauty.  First, I think, as a small child performing, and then at a later age, entering pageants.  I had great parents who adored me.  I could sense, though, how proud they were when I would win.  We didn’t have a lot materially, so my success made them happy, or so I thought. 

Over the years, the honors of popularity which I had achieved were very important, because I wanted others’ approval.  My last year in high school, I was voted “Queen of the School.”  Someone who helped count the votes said I had won by the largest margin ever recorded, but that none of my friends in the popular group had voted for me.  Maybe they saw me for what I was?  Maybe the others loved me in spite of who I was?  I don’t know why, but I felt embarrassed by the honor.  I asked my mom and dad not to come see me crowned.

Since that time, I’ve continued to be embarrassed by attention paid to me.  The public lifestyle we have lived because of my husband’s career has made made it very hard for me to take a back seat.  But that is where I have chosen to be whenever I possibly could because my focus changed from getting approval by honors, to wanting to be good—a good wife, a good mother, and a good Christian.

But it was in the practice of doing that when my world fell apart.  I became physically ill, and then mentally unhealthy.  I can see now that my family had become my god, and evidently, I had become their god.  My daughter said, “Mom, until you got sick, you were my god.” 

When I realized I could no longer balance all the plates and that what I was doing was too much for me, I came out of denial.  I was no longer a beauty queen or the great wife of a successful man.  I was a woman with a mental disorder, locked behind closed doors, singing amazing grace with my inmates.  

With everything I had taken pride in taken away, my focus was all about God.  I could be honest about who I was and who God was, and who He had been to me.  I learned what it was to worship from my heart, all the time, not just in the traditional way at church, although I loved that worship also.  I started taking steps towards simply being myself.

For so long, I had hidden behind walls of protection for fear of rejection.  I had pretended to be someone I wasn’t and could never be:  perfect.  I came to understand that I could only be perfect by the gift of Christ’s righteousness.  I was already loved and accepted by Him and the Father.  I was beautiful to Him no matter what my appearance.  I had also realized that Christ came for the sick, and that I needed a Savior, even more.  No one or no thing could meet my need besides Him.  I was free in the gospel.

The Lord is changing me to see that it’s not about whether the attention is on me or not on me, but it’s about the attention being on God and on loving others with the love He gives me.  I still forget at times, but when I do, the Spirit is so gentle in showing me.  I confess it to Him, and to others, and He brings me to repentance and faith.  It is a gift from God and from others, to point me to Him.

C. S. Lewis says in his “Reflection of the Psalms”, “I think we delight to praise what we enjoy because the praise not merely expresses but completes the enjoyment it is, its appointed consummation.”

God is seeking those who will worship Him.  Since we were made to worship Him, He helps us by stripping us of our idols.  It’s not that we will never go there again, but we can pray, “Oh, Lord, search my heart,” and hopefully, we will begin to recognize our idol(s) more quickly each time. 

God always desires us.  The Spirit will give us the longing for God, and we can respond in worship in Spirit and in Truth.  He is the truth and the way.  Let’s go to Christ and the Father and their affection for us.  Let us be changed, fulfilled, reassured of who we are to Him, and who He is, and rest in that truth.  Let us rest and receive His love, Lord, this is my prayer.  

Solitude

For someone like me, seeking solitude can be a very difficult thing. With being skitzo-effective I struggle with high highs and low lows. Isolation is not good for me. But I have found that there is a huge difference between isolation and solitude. When I seek isolation I am running away from people and from life. When I seek solitude I have a purpose. I am seeking the Person of God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. I am seeking life.

Many years ago when I began a pilgrimage to seek God's face through solitude, my mind would not stop. I had come from a very busy life and I was very independent. When I attempted to be still, things I needed to be doing would begin spinning around in my thoughts. Then I would have guilt feelings, even at times, fear and shame. I could not get my focus off me. I could not stop the thoughts.

Now, after years of the Spirit working with me, I am more familiar with surrounding myself with the love of God. I do not go into meditation thinking about what an awful sinner I am. My first action is to just quiet myself. Many times I look at nature—the things God has made—and meditate on who He is.


         I watched a hummingbird piercing deep within a brilliant flower, sucking its nourishment
            yet still maintaining its position. Its wings were wisping through the air so fast I could
                               hardly see them, but it was as if I could hear a sweet hum.

To me, it's like seeing a painting and learning about the artist. Or reading a book and learning about the way the author thinks.

When I seek solitude, it may take me a little while to settle down, so I love resting in God's love as I listen to music. My preference is soaking or classical music. I am just being still. I begin to think on who I am and God's undying love for me. Sometimes I hear His still, small voice telling me that He loves me so—that I am a child of the King, and He is my Abba Father. I am His and He is mine. How I long for intimacy with Him. I know He is the one calling me there. I do simple things like breathing deeply and releasing. I receive the Spirit who is telling me, "I love you and you love me." I can do that because I know I was created in God's image and He does not give Himself anything but good gifts. As I am open and honest, He loosens my control of my life—people, possessions or problems. My heart is yielded in the love of the Father. Our personalities are magnificent together—set free! Jesus lives His life and love through me.

I believe we are the result of a love relationship between Father, Son, and Spirit. We are an overflow of that love relationship and celebration. We are each special to God. No one child can reveal Him in the very same way. Only Jesus reveals God completely. We each relate to God in fellowship in our own unique way.

I have four children and four grandchildren. I used to say that I think if I had a hundred they would all be different, and that I would have a different relationship with each one of them. Each one is so very special to me no matter what the situation.

I think we are much the same way to the Father. He loves for us to be in communion, to fellowship, and just sit enjoying Him in the quiet. Somehow in the solitude, I am lifted up by Jesus, up by His side in the heavenlies. I am brought into worship. There He is glorified, and I am fulfilled and satisfied. The love and the power of the Cross from Father, Son, and Spirit are given to me. My gaze is on Him and how beautiful and glorious He is.

This does not happen every time. Sometimes I feel nothing and hear nothing. But as I meditate over and over on one simple truth, He always gives me something from His Word. Then as I look for Him to show up and speak to me all throughout my day, He surprises me. I cannot put Him in a box. God wants to reveal Himself to me more than I want Him. But He will choose where and when. He is personal. Many times my physical and mental state is such that I resist seeking solitude. Sometimes, though, knowing that I am resisting drives me there even more.

Lately, I find my heart longs for God as nothing else. I have realized from where my true sense of life comes. I understand for Whom and what I am longing. When my strength seems to be gone, there is no where else to run. There is no one else to whom I can run because God is my solitude.

A Little Child

"Assuredly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will by no means enter it." 

  Mark l0:15

Most of the time, I find myself taking life too seriously. I put up walls of protection, tighten my shoulders, and grit my teeth. Why do I find it so hard to become like a little child? Is it the fear of rejection?  the need to be loved?  What did Jesus mean by this verse?

Many years ago, my family and I went to a friend’s mountain cottage for a few days vacation.  It was a warm, glowing, full-of-personality place. After unpacking the car, we decided to take a little walk. Although it was dark outside, the snow was so bright we didn't even take a light. As we walked down the hill, I plopped myself down in the snow and laid flat on my back. I began to laugh, swinging my arms and legs up and down.  When I stood up to shake off the snow, I saw the beautiful imprint of a snow angel.  "I have always wanted to do that," I said.  It made me feel like a little child.

I remember another time.  My husband and son had left for a five day trip. Looking forward to learning more about solitude, I picked up my books to go sit on my screened-in back porch. I sat there looking out to a beautiful sunny day. Suddenly, out of the blue (literally), it began to rain. Before I realized what I was doing, I laid my books down and ran outside.  Looking up with my mouth wide open, I drank in the rain, all the while spinning around and around.  I was soaked in a matter of minutes, but I didn't care. I was having too much fun dancing. I felt so alive and such inner freedom.

A couple of months ago I went to the dermatologist for a precancerous spot on my nose. Treatment has taken me through some awful looking stages.  The other day in the Dollar Store a little girl said, "You gotta bobo on your nose?"  I said, "Yes, I do."  When she looked at me with great concern and compassion, I said, "It doesn’t hurt. It will go away soon."  She smiled and said, "Oh."  While most of the adults I have been around seem to have felt awkward about it, the little girl was open and honest.  Why can't we be like a little child?  Children just lay their hearts out there.

My grandchildren have taught me a good deal about being a child. They love to laugh and create. One afternoon this past summer we made biscuits together.  Soon the flour was all over the floor, the counter, and us. When we were finished one of them wanted to decorate with sprinkles and birthday candles. I said, "Hon, we are not making cake, we are making biscuits."  The children didn’t care. I gave each one a ball of dough to create his masterpiece. We even lit the candles and sang "Happy Birthday" to each of us!

In two situations I have learned more this year about being a little child. I just mentioned one—my grandchildren. The second is my father, who is older now, but more than that, has been very sick. They are both similar in many ways. They are very dependent. They are open and honest, and they don’t protect themselves by placing walls between you and them. They have no reputation to try to uphold. They share love boldly, and they share their hearts freely.

In thinking about these people, I wonder if God intended for us to enter
this world as a child and leave it as a child?

The question is: How do we live child-like in our daily lives between those years?

Brennan Manning says, in his book "Souvenirs of Solitude," that the "child" represents our authentic self. He says, "I am a unique and radiant center of personal thought and feeling. Rather than living a routine existence in mere conformity with the crowd, the emerging child reminds me I have a face of my own, gives me the courage to be myself, protects me against being like everybody else, and calls for that living, vibrant, magnificent image of Jesus Christ that is within me waiting only to unfold and be expressed."

He also says that you don't really share yourself until you share your feelings. That is the secret of love.  

Prayer:

Father, Son, and Spirit, your love makes me want to be a little child again. I want to laugh and sing and dance and run with you. Please give me a child-like faith with enjoyment, dependence, and confidence in your love—believing it, receiving it, and giving it away. Help me not be guarded, but love openly and freely. Teach me again I pray.