I had big plans this morning.

A long list of to-do’s on a project I want finished in the next few days. To get it done I’ve been up extra early every morning, focusing on what needs doing, falling in bed at the end of the day so tired all I feel is numb.

I thought I needed to work this relentlessly… for God… for my husband… for the ministry to parents we lead together.

I’ve pushed away Phil’s hints that maybe it can wait, that I’m trying too hard, that this pushing isn’t worth what it does to me.

Surely, I thought, God wants this now. He needs this book to inspire parents. All these interruptions just need to be managed better, I need to be more organized, move faster, push myself just a little harder to eek out a little more.

Then this morning something changed.

A friend had sent a homemade candle in a canning jar along with a bag full of fresh greens from his garden. This friend is under real pressure, the kind that only a single dad with a heart full of love for his children can understand.

Me, I’m under pressure because I chose it.

As I lit that little candle and watched it flicker in the shadows of my cabin in the woods— its fragrance reminding me of lemons and verbena and salads fresh from the earth—I couldn’t help but wonder how he’d found the time to make something beautiful for his friends.

A song of my childhood sounded like the tinkle of a music box to my ears that hear nothing,

This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine…

let it shine, let it shine, let it shine. 

And then His words filtered through the lingering melody and I heard,

In Him was life and the life was the light of men. And the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it… those who were His own did not receive Him…

John 1v 4,5,11

His own had missed His coming into their world.

And for just a moment so had I. Caught up in serving Him, I’d somehow forgotten.

I’d pushed myself past my God-tuned rhythm and tried to be better, faster, more disciplined and committed and… I’d become tense and uptight and too tired to be who He made me to be.

I am not a super-achiever. I am not a multi-tasking, amazing spinner of many plates at the same time. When I try, I leave a trail of broken china and love-deprived people behind.

God made me slow. A ponderer. A delighter in beauty. A relisher of words. A tidier of cupboards who finds wonder in small things.

That’s who He wants me to be— the true me.

When I rush and manage and go faster than I can, I deprive Him—

and my people— of me. The one He likes just as I am.

I stare outside my window and see the glistening of silk strands in the spruce tree. A spider’s trail.

My dog lies waiting for his walk, his limpid eyes letting me know he’s willing whenever I am. Soon the day will radiate the heat of the almost—summer sun and neither of us will want to go.

Could my list wait? Might He bring inspiration on a platter of trust? Might slowing down to the rhythm of God-in-me be just the way to what He wants… for me, for mine, for the work He’s assigned for me to do?

Everything changes with that love-made candle. Such a simple thing. I am righted once again, smiling, listening.

Maybe I won’t get my project done on my self-imposed timeline. Maybe it will take longer and end up better just because I listened to the tune of His song for me.

Maybe I’ll go on a walk right now and listen just a little more.

From my heart,

Diane

P.S. What are you learning about your own pace? Are you slow like me or a sprinter who loves the feeling of rushing between rests? I’d love to hear.

(source)

The past month has been, for me, packed full of goodness: family, laughter, beauty, relationship, memories, joy. Firwood cottage opened her arms to embrace people I love: her cozy guest room in constant use, the kitchen a gathering place for ongoing conversation.

Yet one morning, right in the midst of wedding week fun, I made my way out to my tiny refuge in the backyard, that “shed” I claim as my own, and wondered why I hadn’t heard so much as a whisper from God in all the raucous clamor of celebration.

Why are You silent, Lord? Why can’t I hear?

And slowly, imperceptibly at first, I heard hints. I sensed the Spirit stirring me to lean in, to listen, to pay attention.

Opening my bible, I curled up in my big cushy chair, pen in hand, journal in my lap. I settled in to wait.

What would He say? Something encouraging and lovely? Quotable and profound?

No. Just this:

Though the LORD is great,

He cares for the humble,

but He keeps His distance from the proud.

He keeps His distance from the proud. Me? Are You talking about me, Lord?

And I knew before I asked that yes, my pride had pushed Him away. The distance I had suddenly sensed that morning had been growing for days, for weeks. Unrecognized, unrepented pride had worked its weasely way into my soul and now I felt the loneliness of that distance I had created.

My pride propels me into loneliness, pushing God aside, pushing my self forward until all I am is me.

And I hear Him speak, this time so fast I can hardly keep up while I write it down. He wants me back, tucked in close, reveling in the intimacy of connection, enjoying this time of my life with Him.

He knows I hadn’t noticed the emptiness of that place only He can fill. But I notice now and He fills me fast, He fills me full, I am bursting with the richness, all those aching places soothed.

But I don’t want to go there again. Because I didn’t mean to, didn’t even know I was wandering in that direction. Somehow I drove off on the wrong road and ended up with only a hint of God in my rearview mirror. What did I miss?

As I ask Him, a list forms in my head and my pen scrambles on the page to get it down. Too much for one post, I’ll give the first four here:

Subtle Signs When Pride Is Distancing Me From God:

1.    Self-sufficiency

When instead of praying about everything, I blunder through my days “accomplishing what concerns me”. I do it because it needs doing. My list leads.

I can do this. I can work harder and longer and better. I can get it all done!

That is pride disguised in the rigid uniform of work.

2.    Worth

When my achievements define my value; when I am what I do or I am what I have done or I am what people think I am.

When my value is caught up in my ability to do, that is pride.

3.   Insecurity

This is the reverse: When my failure defines me and I think I am merely the sum total of everything wrong with me. That is pride. It is making too much of my efforts, measly though they are, and making too little of God in me.

4.    Entitlement

When life goes bad and I get mad because I think I deserve better.

No, it is not okay to get angry with God! Who do I think I am? When I think I deserve more, deserve to be shielded from ugliness, deserve to be blessed just because I’ve been good, that is pride.

My list keeps growing, a living breathing knowing that this distance is my own doing. But there is joy in this knowing- because He welcomes me back, delights in my turning, soothes the rawness of my repentance. He doesn’t want to stand away from me. My Redeemer died to bring me close… to bridge that yawning fissure my pride opened between me and the One who made me for Himself.

I’ll be back with more to chew on next week.

From my heart,

Diane

P.S. Do you have a list of your own? Have you seen the subtle signs that keep you distant from God and wondering why? Let us learn from your stories, its so much better than failing in our own.

(source)

Dear Girls,

I have been, for the past several months, cocooned in quiet. No new posts, no fresh thoughts, rarely peeking my head out into this big wide world of the web.

I didn’t plan on this; didn’t intend to take a Sabbatical from blog writing. I just lost steam. Too many items on my to-do list that weren’t getting done but that needed doing— combined with a subtle shift in my motivations that I hadn’t detected… and I found myself with nothing to say.

A strange condition for a woman who often has to purposely shush the onslaught of words in order to clear her head.

And yet, even in my silence, God has been speaking: soothing, convicting, teaching, revealing things that needed uprooting down deep. I’ve filled journals with lessons learned, with Scriptures He has etched into my soul, with warnings to myself, and with tidbits of His grace.

And I’ve been writing my book. The rough draft is done and now I’m in the process of following the wisdom of my editor. It’s a slow process but I am learning so much and having more fun with it than I ever thought possible.

Sometime about mid-summer I started to ask God if He still wants me to write via the blog. Assuming nothing, I felt the need of a mandate once again. What a terrible waste of time if I just keep doing what I’ve done without His power— and so, borrowing Moses’ plea, I cried, “If You don’t go with me, I’m not going!”

I heard nothing for a long time.

Yet I felt that tension too— like a weighted pause. As if He wasn’t speaking because I hadn’t been listening, not really listening. You know, like a mama who throws out questions but doesn’t stop long enough to hear the answer?

Eventually His silence got my attention.

As I carved out time to really listen, leaning in and waiting, I heard the words of Jesus to poor, conflicted, feeling-so-sorry-for-himself Peter: Feed My sheep. 

And as He often does, I heard Him whisper with the gentlest answer…

“Di, do you love Me more than these?

Yes, Lord, You know I do.

Feed My lambs... take care of My sheep… feed My sheep.” (read John 21- so rich!)

And sometimes I think we need to hear that… both the challenge and the clear direction. Because it takes a love more than these to keep doing what we’re called to do day after day after day. It’s true for the mother of little ones, for the woman who works to provide, for the student and the caretaker and the teacher and the business owner and… the blog writer.

My more than these includes all the pressures I put on myself to live perfect. Perfect order, perfect balance, perfect words. To love Him more than these means to live at rest with imperfection so I can serve Him in this messy, mixed up world of ideas and relationships.

Will I ever really figure it out? All I know is that…

I feel as though I have so much to say that I’m going to burst if I don’t start writing it down! 

Lessons about prioritizing, about doing less, about living in the moment instead of always fussing about the next thing… as well as good books I’ve been reading that I’m wanting to recommend to anyone who loves to read and longs to learn.

And so here I am, heading into a fresh season of writing for this blog, excited about where He is leading and what He is saying.

We will be posting on a schedule (for those among us who want to know all about order and structure and what to expect!) that goes something like this:

Mondays: Our House

For those of you who followed Letters To My Son, these letters are a continuation of the story. Matt and Simona are getting married on September 27^th and I will begin posting a week later on October 6^th.

For the better part of the first year of their marriage I will write letters filled with lessons I have learned… things I wish I’d known… advice… and encouragement.

Some letters will be directed to Matthew- and men in general. As an older woman— a mom— I have some things I want to say that I hope will help men know how women think and process and what we need in order to thrive.

Other letters will deal with women, written to Simona— and all my girls.

And many of the letters will be to the both of them— to men and women who want to understand a better way of loving well, who want to learn how to…

“walk in the way of love,

just as Christ loved us and gave Himself up for us

 as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.”

Ephesian 5:2

And as an added bonus, Hillary has agreed to illustrate these posts in her beautifully creative and often symbolic expression of truth.

Wednesday or Thursday: Glimpses

These are short (well, at least in theory) spill-overs from my times of listening to God in His Word. My chance to open up my heart to you and let you know what I am learning and how He is speaking into my very real, ordinary life.

I’ll also review books I am loving. As a voracious reader, I’m dying to connect you with authors whose words are making a difference in my life.

On Some Fridays: The Kitchen

That’s right! Elizabeth is cooking up a storm in her tiny vintage kitchen in the heart of L.A. And maybe, if we’re especially lucky, she’ll post a few video clips of her trusty sous chef, aka Scarlet. There will also be several guest foodies contributing recipes and instructions from time to time.

As always, I crave your comments. Your words open up a conversation so that I know who I am writing to.

With a heart rested and ready,

Diane

P.S. Do you have a particular need you’d like me to address? A question that’s been bugging you? Please leave it in the comments and I’ll do my best to listen well.

P.S.S. If you haven’t already subscribed via e-mail, might I suggest you do so now? And follow me on Instagram (@dianewcomer) if you’d like to see pictures of the wedding and all the fun that surrounds it.

We’re moving in a week. After 11 years in this big suburban house, we’re downsizing to what will eventually be a cozy cottage.

Drastically downsizing.

And as I’ve emptied storage areas and my closet, sold off furniture and knickknacks, sifted through a hodge-podge of accumulations, I’ve been learning significant and not-so-nice things about myself.

Take, for instance, the box of memories I’ve saved from Matthew’s childhood. Actually, take the multiple boxes of memories. Plastic baseball trophies (for participation! Whoopee!), two worn out teddy bears, the grungy purple cast he wore when he broke his leg- 20 years ago. Geez.

Did I think he would thank me someday? Ah Mom, how sweet, you saved this stinky cast…

Or was I just too lazy to decide?

Or the tea cups. I collected those way back when, using them for wedding showers and tea parties. And even though they’ve sat, unused, in a drawer for all the eleven years we’ve been here, it was hard to set them out for the garage sale. But there they sat, all morning long. No one even glanced at them. I couldn’t give them away!

My dear, diplomatic daughter, Elizabeth summed it up succinctly:

Creepy.

I’ve excused myself for all this saving. I’m nostalgic. These things remind me of people in my life— my children, my mom, old friends.

But here’s what I’m learning, girls…

When we hang on to stuff from the past, we’re impeded from embracing the future.

I think Jesus had something to say about that.

“And no one puts new wine into old wineskins. For the old skins would burst from the pressure, spilling the wine and ruining the skins. New wine is stored in new wineskins so that both are preserved.”

Matthew 9:17

Did you catch that phrase telling us why we’ve got to let go of what we once loved but doesn’t really work so well anymore?

… for the old skins would burst from the pressure…

Whether its tea cups or teddy bears…

or the role we once played in our family…

or the way we once did church…

or the relationship that is so very comfortable but is holding us back from fully following Jesus’ call on our life…

Some stuff has to go, or I’ll never be free to soar.

And so I am sorting. Making hard decisions. Asking myself uncomfortable questions.

Why would I keep this? Is it useful? Do I need it? Am I sure?

And then I’m probing deeper.

Will this crowd up and clutter my new little house? Will storing this cost me more money than it’s worth? Is it worth the aching backs to move it again?

All questions we need to be asking ourselves about how we live our lives.

1. Are we cluttering up our lives with relationships and roles and obligations that no longer work?
2. What would letting go free me to do that I am unable to do now?
3. Have I filled my life with so many responsibilities that I am still not getting to what matters most?
4. Am I so busy with good things that I’ve no time for the best?
5. Am I sure this is what I am supposed to be doing?

Maybe you’re like me. You’ve gotten so busy that you’ve not had the time or the energy to free up space to dream.

Maybe we all should ponder Jesus’ words about the importance of letting go.

The context, by the way, has to do with a good thing. A disciple of John the Baptist was put off by the fact that the disciples of Jesus didn’t seem spiritual enough. Unlike other devoted followers of Yahweh, they didn’t fast.

That made them suspect. Less-than-committed. What he’d failed to see was the original intent of fasting and the current purpose assigned to Jesus’ disciples.

Sound familiar?

And so, I’m back to packing and sorting and yet another trip to Goodwill. Getting rid of good things so I have room to create something new.

Even tossing the tea cups.

From my heart,

Diane

And you? Do you have a vision for something new? Might you ponder Jesus’ words and how His wisdom relates to your habits?

Please tell us about it! This is scary stuff, this letting go.

Hello! Welcome to our newly redecorated and reorganized site at He Speaks In The Silence.

I hope you will take some time to meander through the blog and see what we’ve been up to. We will still be making some changes here and there over the next few weeks and I’ll be adding pictures and descriptions of my family as well as the team who make this blog happen.

We will be offering fresh posts nearly every day.

On Mondays I will continue the series of Letters To My Son. I just can’t seem to find enough space to tell him all I want him to know about choosing and pursuing a woman to be his wife someday.

Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday will be spillovers from my own time of listening to God early in the morning with my Bible as my guide. These will be short, in the moment Glimpses straight from the Scriptures.

Friday is Elizabeth’s day in The Kitchen to bring you fresh, wholesome recipes and ideas to try on your own. We’ll also occasionally feature women who have elevated the tasks involved in making a home into art and beauty.

Every Saturday we’ll be posting from a Bible Study I wrote and taught on the story of Ruth. We’ve formatted it to be used either all alone, curled up in your favorite chair, or with your best friends gathered close and a few others added in.

On Sundays we’ll be featuring a favorite Scripture or two. I’m going through my marked up Bible and giving you some of the verses and phrases and simple truths that have caught my heart and changed the way I think.

And that’s our week!

It is my hope that this will be a place of encouragement and instruction.

That in reading these words and entering my world you will become captivated by Jesus. That you will see how He works and hear how He speaks. And that by knowing how He has helped and taught me, you will want more Him.

May I suggest that you subscribe to have fresh posts delivered straight to your inbox? I’d love to ask questions from time to time of those on our email list, just be sure I’m writing about the things that concern you.

I am humbled and so very grateful to be a part of your life.

From my heart,

Diane