Holding on to Hope

I've been thinking about hope lately, job searches will do that to you, and I realize that hope is one of those vague, mysterious words that means different things to different people, gets thrown away lots and can be easily misinterpreted.

Imagine a mountain climb. Rough terrain where you've never been before. You cannot see the way ahead of you. There are boulders in the way and you feel like giving up. Just at that moment you see a rope, a rope that will help you get over the tight spot you are currently in. That rope is hope (I know it rhymes and I'm sorry about that, but I don't have another word that works). Grabbing onto the rope will help you get to the next part of the journey. Some ropes are short and are designed to help you up a small cliff. Other ropes are longer, to guide you along dangerous ice, to lead you away from treacherous chasms.

My husband thinks that one rope is all you'll need. One sturdy line from the bottom to the top. But mountains don't always work that way. Life never works that way. The problem with that view is that when you see the end of a rope, you think that it must have been the wrong rope, because it couldn't last. Or that maybe that rope was for somebody else, not for you. Instead, take that rope, use it to get somewhere new, then look for the next one.

Following Jesus is often described as finding hope. Often times that causes confusion. If Jesus is one of these ropes, what happens when it ends? Does Jesus have limits? Does he change direction? For me, Jesus is the rope layer. He has traveled this path before me, knows where the difficult spots are and provides a way to help me through. I know that the next rope is just around the bend, even if I can't see it, because I know the one who sets the ropes in place, who made the path just for me. That's hope.

A Holy Experience

Last week I was riding my bike, downhill, so it's not work. The sun was out and warm and the day was beautiful with the promise of spring. My friends and I were just talking about how God is present, all day everywhere, and the only limitation to my interaction with God is myself: my awareness, my thoughts, my intention.

I thought, "How often am I really paying attention to God's movement in my little meverse?" (That's the universe, centered around and interacting with me. I know it's not a thing, but admit it, we all have a meverse.) Sure, I see amazing beautiful things and sometimes I will stop, for a second, and thank God. In pain and crisis I cry out to God. Sometimes, when something really silly or poignant happens, I look up and say, "God, I see what you did there." We have that kind of relationship, where I point out to him the great laugh that we are about to share. But those are momentary, fleeting snippets of my day. What I really want is what Jesus called abiding -- consciously resting in and being fully aware of God in everything, every day.

Which brings me back to the bike. I was sitting there, just marveling at how perfect it was: the wind in my hair, the trees and flowers, and I thought, "This is a holy experience." And then I wondered about the word holy. Here I am a week later, still thinking about that word -- holy.

So I looked it up in the dictionary. You know, sometimes the dictionary is no help at all. All the dictionary gives is references to stuff dedicated for a religious purpose or to God. The dictionary knows that holiness has something to do with God, but has no clue what that is. I know that one of God's characteristics is holiness, that His goal for my life is holiness, but what is it??

I think holiness may be that door in our minds that we open to be aware of God. Think about it for a minute.  A holy place is one where we experienced God  (or someone else did generations ago). A holy experience is one in which we (for lack of a better word) "feel" God's presence. The whole key to holiness is awareness and recognition of God -- his character, his presence, his activity.

Which means that holiness is not just a mystery -- though there is plenty of mystery in the whole thing, but it's also something I can grow. Want a holy job? Choose to open the door in your mind to God while you work. Talk over tasks with Him, ask for wisdom in making decisions, or dealing with that co worker, or staying on task. Want a holy family? Choose to open your mind to including God as part of your family. Give Him a seat at the table, literally or figuratively. Go on walks to the park with Him and show Him your favorite parts of His creation. Want a holy experience?
Conscientiously choose to be aware of God.

Now, I'm not saying that this is as simple as flipping on a switch. It's more like exercising a muscle. The more you do it, the easier it becomes. Here's a simple start. David says in a poem he wrote that, "The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands." So start there, in nature. It's a common place that religious (and non-religious people for that matter) find holiness. Look at the skies and try to see beyond them as you consider the vastness of God. Examine a flower and know the intricacies of God. Observe a sunset and marvel at the artistry of God. Watch a bug fly and think about the creativity and engineering mind of God. Make it a game -- what do I see about God from what I observe in nature. 

Warning -- not everything in nature is representative of God. Remember that sin has messed things up pretty good, in humanity more than anything else. Start with what you know about God and work from there. If you don't know much about God, read about Him in the Bible -- maybe start in the Psalms. There's lots of emotions and relating to God in those. Or look at Jesus. God with skin on.

One last thought. As I look at nature I see lots of paradoxes -- opposites that are both true. Great scope and vastness, intricate detail and minute planning, creativity and order, joy in pain, and I think that's also a characteristic of God. God embraces the paradox: death to create life, spilled blood that cleanses. And when we embrace the paradox too, we can see God in a clearer way.

I don't mean to make God merely human, as we give Him traits and characteristics that we can identify with. Actually, in this process, God is making us more human. More like he designed us to be. In tune with Him and the world He put us in. In a word, holy.
   

Garbage

I was out walking with my friend today. As we caught up on each other's lives, she told me that she sensed change coming, but she didn't know what and she didn't know how, and she most certainly didn't know when. A word from God, a desire from her heart, a change in location, a change in vocation, all these rumblings of something bigger on the horizon-- a fuzzy horizon. Full of promise and sparkle, but oh, so tricky to make out the details.

As we walked along, I noticed a discarded water bottle, laying in the grass. I thought to myself that I should pick it up. I wasn't there to clean up garbage, and there was no nearby container to place it in. I told myself that later I would come back for the bottle. We walked on, talking of choices, of leaving doors open and taking steps forward, even if you don't know where forward is exactly.

Another empty water bottle appeared in our path. This one I picked up. I can hold one water bottle while I walk. I don't want to be a garbage lady, hands overfull with the discarded refuse of the neighborhood, but I can take care of this one small thing. Do my part, so to speak, in the care of creation.

We'd been walking through the park a while, I thought we'd seen most everything. But just a moment later I saw, under the bridge, an abandoned plastic bag. When I saw the bag, everything just made sense. It's as if God set the first bottle in my path to start me thinking. Put the second one nearby to see if I would act. Once I did, God knew that I could take His hint. He put the bag in the stream and said, "Do this for me today."

So I did.

Together we delighted in the discovery of the bag (who does that, really?). My friend pointed out the first bottle we had seen and added it to the bag. We found a wrapper, a broken ring, a couple other little bits. It felt good to do something to help make the place beautiful. It was nice to see how it all came together. At the end of our walk, I took it to the trash can. No big deal.

Except it was a big deal. It is a metaphor for the very thing we were talking about. Often in life's path, God will place a little something in your path. It may or it may not change anything. But it may be a hint of what's to come. A little later you will find a similarity, maybe something small that spurs you to action.

I think God is continually hinting at us what our lives could be like if we could just see what's right in front of us. Instead of being so focused on the big picture (What career should I pursue? Who should I marry? Where should I live? How do I become famous?) what if we just looked at what's around us and took action when we notice a pattern? Embracing those patterns are the building blocks of our lives: our passions, our dreams, our attempts to make the world a better place.

And when the time is right, God will give us the bag, the piece that holds it all together. We can look back and say, "Oh, God this life is beautiful, but I don't know how I got here." And He will say, "You just followed me, step by step and this beauty is the result."

Missed the Boat

Here it comes, tall and beautiful and romantic. The boat that promises an adventure of a lifetime. Smelling of exotic spices and warm breezes. The travelers on this boat show joy for the journey they are on, almost inviting you to join them just by their enthusiasm and contentment.


Do you even wonder if you should have climbed aboard? Let go of the fear of the unknown, the safety of the shore, the predictability of life on land? Would you be a different person? Lived in another place? Had different priorities?


Not that all boats are what they seem. Though you may think you know the destination, sailors get lost at sea. Weather can mean a detour, even an alternate end point. If you do ultimately arrive, the storms along the route can leave you feeling worn, washed up, adrift. You could get sea sick, sunburnt, or harmed by the dangers of the sea.


So why go at all?


Watching life from the shore is beautiful. The waves crash against the shore, but never overwhelm you. Boats come and boats go -- some boats you've seen more than once. They will come again. Maybe when you're ready, you can go. Maybe when you've got more money, more time, more courage.


Maybe. . .


Maybe that boat is stopping here today, just to have you aboard. Maybe the people you will meet, or the experience you have on this particular trip will give you the passion you've always wanted in life. Maybe you just need a change of pace, space and perspective that can only come from the boat. Maybe all that trouble is worth it.


So how do you choose?


When the boat arrives, all is anticipation, newness, adventure. the boat's looks can be deceiving. When the boat leaves you behind, you feel, if just for a moment, regret that you are not aboard. Discernment is knowing which boat to get on and when, and how to let the boat pass you by without despair.

One day as Jesus was walking along the shore of the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers—Simon, also called Peter, and Andrew—throwing a net into the water, for they fished for a living.  Jesus called out to them, “Come, follow me, and I will show you how to fish for people!”  And they left their nets at once and followed him.

A little farther up the shore he saw two other brothers, James and John, sitting in a boat with their father, Zebedee, repairing their nets. And he called them to come, too.  They immediately followed him, leaving the boat and their father behind.                                             Matthew 4: 18-21

Church like a stream

A dear friend of mine is hearing God's mysterious voice, telling her to move to a new country and start a new thing. A few weeks back, another friend heard God's voice, moving him to a new place. In my heart, a wave of joy and sorrow -- joy will win. I know this because we, as a church family, are moving again. And when a church moves, so do her people.

Church should be like a stream -- water flows in the same direction, moving at different speeds, but all chasing the same destination. Creeks wind their way into the current and it pushes the water places the water never even imagined it could go. Sometimes a rock, tree or branch will send water on a different path, headed the same direction, but not traveling together. And then there is the noise of the stream -- babbling, full of life and joy and peace and hope.

You see, for a long time I was in a church that felt more like a pond than a stream. The difference is small but profound. Water moves in a pond, just slowly. Discussions around church always felt like building a dam, trying to stop the flow of movement. "How do we close the back door?" "How can we bring more people in?"  Good questions, but if there's no outflow, momentum slows, and we start to deposit our dirt. Algae starts to grow and the whole thing becomes stagnant. Then it starts to smell, really smell. The more and more we'd try to hold in, the more we kept finding leaks in ourselves, in the dam we built, until one day the whole thing just broke apart.

It's hard to come from the quiet pond and move to a babbling stream. Momentum is tricky, and makes a mess sometimes. It's loud and rushing and unfriendly -- it carries you along to places you may not want to go. But it makes the water clear and fresh and nourishing to people who are thirsty. So come join the stream, for a minute or for a lifetime. It's no longer my job to keep you swimming, just trust the One who is leading us to the ocean.

Cell Phone Pharisee

More and more lately, my big secret is coming out.

"Why don't you have a cell phone?"

"How can you manage?"

My reasons for not carrying a mobile device are many and varied. Here are a few I've said lately:

•  because I don't want to be available to people all the time
•  because I know my addictive nature and it's just easier to not have the temptation
•  because I choose to spend money on other things

As these conversations keep coming, I am finding a different, deeper reason. One that I must confess. I LIKE not giving in to the current culture that demands I instantly return texts, calls, beeps. It allows me to pretend that I'm morally superior to you. I can roll my eyes when you check a text cause "it might be important." I can snigger at the lady in the awards ceremony rooting through her purse because it's decided to play a symphony all on its own. I can laugh about the friend who answers the phone IN THE SHOWER, knowing that I will never be like that.

You see, in my eyes, cell phones have become a great evil in society. And I stand pure, unadulterated by the insidious, omnipresent portal to all things. I read articles and stories that back up my skewed view. Cell phones cause cancer, addict preschoolers, change our thought patterns so we cannot focus on one thing, make walking zombies out of pedestrians, and so on. I knew all along that they were trouble and I will stand against the overwhelming masses -- a pure, focused, productive member of society.

Only I'm not. I have become a Pharisee. I use my choice to not use a perfectly normal tool to make myself seem holier, closer to God and others, just because I don't give in. And other people help me distance myself when they say, "You must really trust your husband if you're not going to check on him while you're away."  "You are so strong. It must be very hard."

I don't need a cell phone to tune you out while we're supposed to be talking. I want you to wait for my time to return that call/ message/ whatever cause I want to control the situation. Oh, and I want you to know that I'm too important of a person to drop whatever it is I'm doing (probably nothing) to respond to you. From the outside I look strong, independent, and holy, but it's all a façade.

And I'm sorry. I'm sorry for considering you dependent, or less of a person because you have a cell phone.  I'm sorry for thinking that you don't trust your husband with your kids because you call to connect. I'm sorry for the anger that bubbles up in me when we are having a conversation and you look at your phone instead of being constantly riveted by my eyes and words. I'm sorry for this barrier in the way I think of you, or look at you.

I would love for you to look at me and not see some backward thinking, suspicious holdout. And I will try to no longer judge you. I will treat you as a real friend, who makes different choices than me because we live different lives. Unless we're stuck on the side of the road, with no where to turn. Then I will be grateful for your cell phone.

2012 Advent Readings

I wrote these for our weekly advent readings at Blue Mountain Community Church. I wanted to share them with you.

 Prophesy – Week 1

Like a child waiting for Daddy to come home, or a pregnant woman ready to meet her child, a time of waiting is most marked by the arrival of what we have been waiting for. The time can be frustrating, agonizing or distracting. However, this time can also be exciting, filled with possibility and wonder, and a building sense of joy. How do you choose to wait?

Since the beginning of time, generations have waited for the coming of the promised one. The delight of God’s promise of freedom from sin, of a reunion with Him, were worth waiting for. But how long would He be? Thousands of years pass with no promised one, then God seems to be silent. Could He have forgotten his promise?  Sometimes, in the darkest of winter, hope is the only thing we have to know that spring is coming. And come he did, though not in the way that most people expected. Many people from all over the world were watching and waiting and yet when Jesus came, few took notice.

For thirty-three short years the wait was over and the Promised one came to earth and did what God promised he would do. He leaves us with another promise, “I will come again.” And so we return to waiting. Another couple thousand years of waiting. Perhaps there is something in the waiting: something that teaches us to hold on to hope and promise, that encourages us to always be preparing for the fulfillment of our longing, to keep us from thinking we have arrived and settle into complacency. Perhaps this waiting is core to the very nature of Christ- followers, of Messiah seekers.

So another winter has come and before you break into celebrating, pause and remember that the best celebration is yet to come. Embrace the wait and prepare your heart to see Christ as you’ve never seen Him before.

 

Peace – Week 2

There is nothing quite like the sound of snow falling. It makes no noise at all and yet, it has a palpable presence. When the snow begins to fall, it seems as though all the world stops. Plans change, people look up at the sky or settle in to something warm. If there’s enough snow, an unplanned holiday takes place. Schools and businesses close and a whole new world of possibilities open up. Suddenly our schedules cease their clamor and we can simply be.

It’s those moments when we are quiet, when we simply are, that God speaks. Or maybe it’s then that we can really hear him. As with the shepherds on the hillside, our encounters with God can forever change us: our perspectives, our desires, our priorities. One of his gifts in these encounters is the gift of peace. Not an absence of striving kind of peace, though that may be true, but this peace is a fullness of purpose, a sense that things are as they should be. A peace that settles in, just like a snowflake on a field.   

In our culture, quietness and peace are a rare commodity, a luxury few can afford, a short term reward for completion of a major undertaking. What if the truth is that peace is a necessary foundation, an integral part of what makes us human and a more fitting home base than busyness? What if peace was at the core of who you were this Christmas, instead of an exhausted afterthought? What would be different? What would stay the same?

Let’s approach this Christmas with the peace that God intends for us. Yes, there are presents to buy and wrap, cookies to bake and relationships to invest in. Those things can still happen, but the focus can change if you let God’s peace settle in and “be” Christmas instead of “doing” Christmas.

 

Joy – Week 3

Is there anything more beautiful than seeing the joy on a loved one’s face when we give them the perfect gift? Something that they have desired for a long time, yet could never have bought for themselves. Made more precious by the fact that this treasured item is now connected to a valued relationship.

Can you imagine the excitement God had in making his plans to send his Son? It is the perfect gift. Just what we needed and something we could never have even thought to ask, it cost so much. We could never have got it on our own. Made more precious because it gives us a relationship with God that we could never have without this gift.  Imagine His delight as you opened his gift and realized that it is just for you.

Better yet, as much as this gift is designed specifically for you, it is equally designed for the person next to you: your neighbor, your family, your friend. And God asks you to share it with them. You can keep it and give it at the same time. You can share God’s joy as you see others receive the gift.

And yet, how much of your life shows this joy, gratefulness for this perfect gift? Smack in the middle of the busy Christmas season, would those who looked at your life be able to see joy?

That’s what the angel was talking about when he said in Luke 2:10, “I bring you good news that will bring great joy to all people.” This joy is radiant, life changing, bursting delight that comes from God, through you, to others. This joy is uncontainable, unexplainable, unbidden. It is the joy that started with one Christmas night, in a manger in Bethlehem. Gifted first to a husband and wife, then a strange mix of kings and shepherds, eventually a loose group of followers and finally the whole world.

 

Week 4 – Love

The heart of Christmas is love. A.W. Tozer once said, “I can no more do justice to this awesome and wonder-filled topic than a child can grasp a star. Still, by reaching toward the star the child may call attention to it and even indicate the direction one must look to see it. And so, I stretch my heart toward the high, shining love of God so that we may be encouraged to look up and have hope.”

God’s love is amazing, unconditional, transforming, sacrificial, humbling, uplifting and more. How does one even begin to describe it? It is offered, even to those who reject it over and over. It is abiding, even when circumstances overwhelm and sadness lingers. It is always choosing the best for us, even if that best is hard or unfamiliar. It is unending, unquenchable, celebratory and solemn. And it reveals itself just when we need it most.

Human love is often self seeking, emotion driven, changeable as the wind. How comforting to know that God’s love is not like ours. But God’s love could be ours, if we learned from him how to really love our world.

Imagine how it could be if each of us took the people around us and loved them like God does. How could we influence our neighborhoods, our families, our schools, our friends if we saw each situation through God’s love and used that as our guide. How would your relationships be different? How would you spend your time?

And that may be the biggest miracle of Christmas: that God, through Jesus, showed us how to love our world and re- create it to be as he first imagined it. That his love through us would change hearts and minds and actions, propelling us to be kinder, more compassionate, more accurate reflections of Christ. And as we explore that love, we call others’ attention to it, as a child grasps for a star.

 

 

Christ Candle – Christmas Eve

He came. In fulfillment of the promise and in honor of the waiting generations he came. In response to the obedience of teenagers he came. To the lowliest of places he came. During political occupation he came. Heralded by angels and shepherds, not kings or emperors, he came. From perfection and beauty and light and love to brokenness and horror and darkness and hate, he still came.

And it changed everything.

Because he came, we can know God. Because he came, we have peace. Because he came, we are free. Because he came, we have purpose.

Jesus’ coming shows us how humanity was meant to be, how we could be if we trusted and believed God. He shows us how God wants to interact with the world: intimately, individually, personally. Jesus’ coming not only tells us of a better day coming, but also includes the possibility that today could be a better day.

Christ is our model, our teacher and our hope. He is God as well as being the fulfillment of humanity. He is the first one among us, yet he valued the least ones. He is the cornerstone of our faith, the rock on which we stand.

Because of Christ, we have Christmas.