Posts tagged wait
WAIT... for what?
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Since ancient times

no one has heard,

no ear has perceived,

no eye has seen

any God besides You

who acts on behalf of those who

 wait for Him.

Isaiah 64v4

My listening in the Word this morning took me on a wild ride that started in Matthew chapter 3 at the fascinating moment of Jesus’ baptism. My heart caught at these words:

At that moment, heaven was opened, and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him. And a voice from heaven said, “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased.” (v16,17) 

It’s that “well pleased” comment that has always drawn me. The idea that now, because I am adopted by His Son, I am included in that phrase. Not because I’m good or I try hard or I somehow stand out—but just because Jesus brought me into Himself.

Will I ever grasp that?

But this morning I heard that softest whisper from the Spirit on this phrase:

At that moment, heaven was opened…

I’ve seen heaven opened.

And the story is longer than I can include here, but it’s true. When the elders of our little church in Santa Cruz circled ‘round me to anoint me with oil and pray that God would heal my broken ears… right when I hit bottom and the blackness in my heart threatened to sink me,

I saw… or felt… or experienced… heaven opened.

Light streaming through, engulfing me, surrounding me, warming me in those frigid recesses of my soul. My rebellious, angry, blasphemous soul.

And ever since then I have been different.

Like Moses when he stumbled down the mountain after meeting with God… Like Peter and John and James when they heard and felt and experienced God on the mountain. Like Paul when he was “caught up” and saw things he could barely describe.

Imperfect, mixed up, broken people who caught a glimpse of… Glory.

This morning as I curled up with tea and a soft blanket out in this cabin in the woods where I meet Him early, I realized something wonderful, something I’d not noticed in all the telling of my story. Just this:

Every time we turn to Him, every time you or I open His Word and ask Him to speak. Every time we ask Him to show us His glory…

He does.

Not normally in a nice zap that would make for good T.V…

Nor usually in grandiose Las Vegas style glitz…

Simply because His glory isn’t mostly like what we think…

His glory is Himself.

When we come messy, needy, desperate.

When we know our own limitations and despair at our ineptitude.

When we get to the place of such poverty that we cannot go on.

And when we wait, hands open, heart yielded, wanting only Him,

That’s when He shows us His glory, Himself.

I want to be that one He finds waiting.

I think you do too.

I want to wait every day, not passively wishing for a zap, but actively waiting on tippy toes for His glory.

Listening, looking, hoping… for Him.

From my heart,

Diane

P.S. Can you tell us how you hear Him? How you see His glory? Because He speaks in the ways we can hear and shows Himself in ways we can see, sharing His glory with each other opens our ears and eyes to Him in new ways.

 

(image by Abi Porter)

LETTER TO MY SON: A CHECK IN THE SPIRIT
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Dear Son, Many months ago you came to me with a pressing question. I could see all the bottled up worry working its way through your limbs… fidgets, incessant nose rubbing, scratching imaginary irritants—you were itching and twitching with anxiety.

And of course, that got me worried! What’s going on? What’s the matter? I barely got my concern out of my mouth when your words burst like an unkinked hose.

“I don’t know what’s the matter. I want to move deeper into a committed relationship with this girl. She’s perfect in every way. She loves God passionately, likes me, encourages me, shares my goals, is funny and gorgeous… but I feel like God keeps saying ‘No, wait’. And I don’t know why. What’s wrong? Is it me? Is it her?”

On and on you spilled your angst at not knowing what God seemed to be saying to you. You thought you knew your own heart, but not God’s. And that bothered you...A lot.

So I told you what I learned, "You are experiencing what the preachers and writers and listeners from times past used to call 'a check in your spirit'”.

My advice? 

Wait... “If you do not know what you ought to do stand still until you do.” F.B. Meyer  wrote that  Be still... Shh. Quiet all that noisy self-talk   Stop talking... to your friends, to yourself  Listen… until you’ve had a chance to hear that voice and figure out what He’s hinting at 

What do you hear in the silence?

Is there a nagging worry you’ve tried to ignore? Something not quite right but not blatantly bad?

Or are you just afraid...

That you’ll be labeled a player if a few weeks from now you realize you just don’t click?  That you might get hurt? Embarrassed? Rejected?  Or are you, perhaps, still ingrained with the mystic idea that ‘the one’ is waiting just around the corner to fulfill all your dreams? The perfect match. Your soul mate.

Son, you know,  I don’t believe in perfect-soul-mate-matches-made-in-heaven. More often, I see two God-centered people blending and giving and compromising and rubbing off rough edges and working it out and figuring it out and becoming one… and that’s rarely easy or ideal or especially romantic. 

Too many soul-probing questions without definitive answers?

I have learned not to push those questions underground because God speaks so quietly. He presses on our soul subtly. He asks us to lean in a little closer, He invites us to linger over Scripture a little longer.

So here’s my list of mom-made advice:

  • Wait
  • Watch
  • Stand still
  • Lighten up
  • Go play soccer with some friends
  • Savor a cup of coffee and a good book
  • Relax
  • Don’t force it
  • Have fun

And then go talk to Dad, because he’s not so mystical about finding God’s path. He’ll ask questions and write pro’s and con’s charts on yellow pads of paper.  He’ll say, “Invite her over!” and then he’ll embarrass you and make everyone laugh and you’ll know a lot about how you really feel.

And so next Monday, I’ll post just what your dad has to say. Maybe he’s got a story to tell…

From my heart,

Mom

Questions & Comments: Go ahead and ask and I’ll try to answer as best I can.

  • How this looks in real life?
  • Do you have a question about what I mean? 
RUTH: week five
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#1: “…HOW BLESSED ARE ALL WHO TAKE REFUGE IN HIM!” PSALM 2:12B NASB

#2:

James 1:5

Colossians 3:1-17

Galatians 2:20

Philippians 4:8

Psalm 16

Psalm 127:2

Psalm 139:23,24

#3

PAGES FROM THE PAST:  February 1999

Dwelling There

Satisfaction and rest. The world searches frantically for both. I search for both.

If only I had…

If only I were…

If only I could…

Lasting satisfaction is not filled by people or places or things.

And rest. Where do I find that? A perfect vacation? A beach house? A lighter schedule? Less work to do?

No. Rest is found in only one place. Deep-down, daily soul rest is found only in the Shelter of the Almighty.

I know the satisfaction and the rest to be found in the Shelter. I’ve been there. It is a wonderful place to be. The problem is, I tend to just go for a visit. I pop in when the hassles of life get to me, when I feel restless and dissatisfied, when things don’t go my way.

Rest is for those who live in the Shelter of the Most High. There is a big difference between living there and taking a quick visit when the need arises. This Shelter is not a vacation home. It is a place to move into permanently - a place to get comfortable in, to hang some picture memories, to snuggle down deep.

I have known the Shelter as a hospital room. When I am hurting or grieving it is the first place I want to run to. I have known the heart-healing of that place.

I have known the Shelter as a refuge. When I am worn out and weary I seek a respite there. In that Shelter I have been refreshed and renewed.

I have known the Shelter as a library of sorts. I have gone there seeking solutions, answers for questions too big for me. I have come away with a heart full of His wisdom.

I have known His Shelter as a place of pure joy. I have worshiped there alone and have celebrated in His presence with the family of believers. I have touched His throne and been transformed again and again and again.

And yet with all these wonderful visits, I have yet to consistently dwell there. I move in and out. I don’t know why. I just sort of drift out until another crisis or an especially beautiful quiet time reminds me that this is where I want to be. I don’t want to be so foolishly fickle. I love it there in the Shelter.

I am coming to realize that the act of dwelling there, really living in the Shelter of the Most High, is a daily decision. No, it’s more like an hourly decision, a moment by moment awareness of the Father.

I can choose to live there when things are good and when they are not. I can live there when the kids are squabbling, when I am a taxi for the teenagers, at the drizzling soccer field, and at the crowded grocery store.

I can live there from the moment I wake up to the time I go to sleep and every moment in between. The Bible tells me that He will keep on giving to me even in my sleep!

But the decision to stay there is mine. The Father will not force me. I must decide if I want to seek Him with all my heart. I must put aside, at times, thoughts and words and actions that do not belong in the Shelter. Just like I make my kids leave their muddy shoes outside in the garage, so must I leave my filth at the altar before I can enter into His presence. He is not expecting perfection-He knows me too well for that. But when He whispers in my ear I must listen and obey lest I push away His Spirit and push myself out of the Shelter.

From my heart,

Diane

Etc:

Names:

Elimelech: My God is King

Naomi: My pleasantness

Mahlon: Sickness

Chilion: Consumption

Ruth: Satisfied

Orpah: Fawn-like

Boaz: Strength1

What’s In a Name?

The most popular names given to babies in 2008 include: Matthew, Ethan, Olivia, Emma, and Alexander.1 One hundred years earlier, in 1908, the top list included names like: Henry, Albert, Harold, Mildred, and Gladys. Only two names made the top ten in both years: William and Elizabeth.

In the United States, names are linked to the era in which a child is born. But in the ancient Middle East, names invariably signified the circumstances under which the child was born. Thus, Rachel, dying in childbirth, named her youngest son Ben-Oni (“my painful son”)2 which her husband quickly changed to Benjamin (“son of the right hand”). Sometimes children were named as a result of his or her parent’s hope for their future. At other times, God Himself stepped in and announced a name before the parents could come up with one of their own (See Isaac’s story in Genesis 17 and John’s story in Luke 1).

Thus, in Scripture, the meaning of someone’s name often sheds light on the significance of that person’s life. Keep that in mind as you read through the book of Ruth.