selah

The voices in our heads…

/ Marissa / Leave a comment

Question:  What were you just thinking? Just then?  If a day in your head goes anything like a day in my head, the answer could be anything.  From pondering the grocery list to reflecting on the meaning of life, the gears in my head are always moving.  And not in a linear, predictable way.  One seemingly mundane thought can lead to another, and another, until my mind ends up miles from where it began.

In the truest part of ourselves, we are thinking creatures.  We think an amazing amount of thoughts, ALL the time.  In the morning, we wake up thinking about our days, thinking that we wish that we had more sleep, thinking about the dreams we just had that were actually the thoughts we were having in our sleep.  At the breakfast table we eat our cereal as we think about how stressed out we are about the day ahead.  All day long it goes, thinking, daydreaming, worrying, but living our lives in our heads, many times much more than we do outside of our heads.

maybieHave you ever wondered what it would be like to NOT think so much?  Take my dog Maybie, for instance.  Do you know what she thinks about?  Squirrels.  And walks.  That’s it.  Literally.  Sometimes I just want to spend a day in her head, looking out the window and waiting for my next walk.  Thinking about… squirrels.  I think more than my dog because that is how I was created.  In the Garden of Eden, God created us in His Image.

So God created human beings in his own image. In the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.  Genesis 1:27

And what does it mean to be created in the Image of God?  What IS God?

In the beginning the Word already existed.
The Word was with God,
and the Word was God.
He existed in the beginning with God.
God created everything through him,
and nothing was created except through him.
The Word gave life to everything that was created,
and his life brought light to everyone.
John 1:1-4

God created us in His image, and in the Bible, His Image is described as the Word.  So, When you think of it, our capacity for speech, for words, for thought, is part of what makes us image bearers of Christ.  This ability to think, to reason, to observe and interpret the world and our lives is a sacred thing.  In the Garden of Eden, we were created as real, thinking beings who spent our lives in the presence of God, walked with him in the evenings, and shared every bit of our lives with him.

Worry was not a thing.

Fear didn’t exist.

Our minds, our thoughts, were happy, joyful, creative places.

So what happened?

The serpent.

Have you ever thought about the fact that the first thoughts Adam and Eve had after they ate the apple were ones of anxiety?

Ack!  I’m naked!

In an instant, a life of peace, a mind of harmony, was transformed into one of fear, anxiety, and self doubt.

When we began to doubt God’s goodness, we immediately began to doubt everything we knew about our lives, our selves, as well.  The serpent keeps whispering his lies into our ears.

Have you ever taken inventory of your thoughts?  Kept track of how many of your thoughts in a given day are happy ones, verses sad, scary, or anxious ones?  If you are like me, the bad ones outnumber the good ones.  And what’s more, the bad ones are the ones I pay attention to.  Why?  These ones are the lies…

But everyone does it.  However, is this the way it has to be?  In the world of therapy, professionals are starting to question the assumption that all of our thoughts are true, all are valid.  How can someone who is socially successful feel in the depths of her heart that she is unlovable?  How can a person who by societal standards is beautiful still believe with all of her mind that she is ugly, fat?  How can a mother who is working herself to the bone to support and nurture her family lays awake at night, convinced that she isn’t doing enough?  The truth is, we are all walking around believing lies, despite overwhelming evidence of that these things simply aren’t true.

We all live in a world where it feels as if there is an angel on one shoulder and a devil on another.  One is whispering lies, telling us we aren’t good enough.  The other is whispering the truth of God, that we are dearly loved, cherished, enough.

Which voice are you listening to?

John 10:1-10
“I tell you the truth, anyone who sneaks over the wall of a sheepfold, rather than going through the gate, must surely be a thief and a robber!  But the one who enters through the gate is the shepherd of the sheep.  The gatekeeper opens the gate for him, and the sheep recognize his voice and come to him. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out.  After he has gathered his own flock, he walks ahead of them, and they follow him because they know his voice.  They won’t follow a stranger; they will run from him because they don’t know his voice.”

“I tell you the truth, I am the gate for the sheep.  Yes, I am the gate. Those who come in through me will be saved. They will come and go freely and will find good pastures.  The thief’s purpose is to steal and kill and destroy. My purpose is to give them a rich and satisfying life.”

Satan’s purpose is to steal our joy.  To kill our confidence, to destroy our peace and our relationships with others.  God’s purpose is to give us life, and life to the fullest.

But here is the thing.  You get to choose which voice you listen to.  You can allow words of life, or of death, to rule your brains every day.  Which voice are you going to choose to listen to?

I am going to leave you with one final thought… words directly from God, in one of my favorite passages of the Bible- Philippians 4:6-9.  These words have been so influential for me in the battle for my mind.  Let these words wash over you and know, above all else, that you are dearly loved.

Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done.  Then you will experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus.

 And now, dear brothers and sisters, one final thing. Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise. Keep putting into practice all you learned and received from me—everything you heard from me and saw me doing. Then the God of peace will be with you.

prayer: a poem

/ Marissa / 1 Comment

all day long the mumbled missives are sent:
postcard length portraits of this human experience.

our cherished hopes,
concerns for our loved ones,
whispered pleas for green lights,
passing thoughts for strangers,

prayers fill in our still moments, forming
the punctuation of our days.

the world as we wish it to be,

all placed carefully in the palm of our creator.

who do you love?
What is it you hope for?
Who are you
truly?

the contents of our prayers tell the true story, revealed only to
a God who sees us.

IMG_0097

freedom

/ Marissa / 2 Comments

So I just spent a week blogging about ways my life could use discipline… but as I was jogging yesterday, I realized that I cannot talk about these things without also talking about the most important principle of my life.

freedom.

You see, freedom, specifically, my freedom in Christ, is one of the most defining characteristics of my existence.  I grew up in a faithful Christian home, full of grace filled believers.  But somehow, I grew up with the misconception that living a life as a Christ follower involved toeing the line in all areas.  I was a dedicated do-gooder, a person who believed that living in a way that pleased God meant that I had to beat myself into submission.  Although I could define grace if asked, I lived as if it had no impact on my life and my world.

So what happened to change things?  I messed up.  I made mistakes.  Big ones.  Ones that went against my definition of who I was, and flew in the face of what I had decided a ‘good Christian’ should be.  My selfish and immature 19 year old mistakes wrecked my model of Christianity and I found myself at a Crossroads: walk away from my faith in disgrace, or engage with God on new terms.

Once I wrecked my paradigm of Good Christian Behavior, the Bible began to make more sense.  900 some pages of people messing up, and God remaining faithful.  Before, I read these scriptures as a Pharisee, scoffing at the Israelites’  hardheadedness.  Now, I comprehended the message that God was SHOUTING through these pages- there is simply no way to be good enough to earn your way into heaven.

You can’t do it.

And yet, God still loves us.  Has redeemed us.  Sent his Son to suffer and die and pay the price of our hardheadedness, our sin, our stiff necked pride.  Through Jesus, we have been given a precious gift: freedom.  Our very inability to be good enough to win God’s favor invites us into a world of adventure.  One where failure is acceptable, even expected.  One where we have the opportunity to discover who we really are, and in turn, more of who God is.

Yes.  We try to honor God with our choices.  Yes.  Discipline is part of the Christian walk.  But discipline inevitably leads to failure.  And sometimes, deliberately breaking the rules we set for ourselves reminds us of who is ultimately in charge.

freedomSo when I wake up tired or discouraged, I give myself permission to fail.  To fall short of the 20 mile march.  To leave the laundry unfolded.  To turn the 8 PM rule into the 4 PM rule, or to burn the midnight oil, whatever is required to honor the needs of my soul.  And in these permissions, I am also realizing that I am free.  As a child of Christ, my worth isn’t set upon what I accomplish, the cleanliness of my house, the behavior of my kids or the balance in my checkbook.  My identity is hidden in Him, and I am free to rest in the shadow of his wings.

Those who live in the shelter of the Most High
    will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
This I declare about the Lord:
He alone is my refuge, my place of safety;
    he is my God, and I trust him.
For he will rescue you from every trap
    and protect you from deadly disease.
He will cover you with his feathers.
    He will shelter you with his wings.
    His faithful promises are your armor and protection.
Psalm 91:1-4

even in darkness

/ Marissa / 3 Comments

139

I had a conversation a few weeks ago where someone asked me what I thought about times in one’s life when you don’t feel God’s presence as strongly as you once did.  While the person seemed to be asking me an open ended question, I felt the tension of needing to give the ‘right answer’.  I knew that what I was supposed to say is that when you feel far from God, you just grit your teeth, double down, and wrestle your way back into the Light.  So, in my shame and cowardice, that is what I said.

But here is the truth.

I am in that place- the valley.  I have been for a while now.  And right now, today, I don’t have the strength, or even the desire to pull myself up by my bootstraps.  I’m weary.  I’m battered.  And, paradoxically, I am okay with it.

Because here in this valley, I am in the process of learning one of the most valuable lessons I have ever been given.

Though I may waver, God is faithful.

O Lord, you have examined my heart
    and know everything about me.
    You know everything I do.
You know what I am going to say
    even before I say it, Lord.
 You go before me and follow me.
    You place your hand of blessing on my head.
 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
    too great for me to understand!
Psalm 139:1-6

Me? I am fickle.  I am bound by circumstance and perspective.  My view on life, on God, on everything, is bound by time and situation.  I can’t see my way out of this place.  Also- I am tired.  My days are consumed with watching small children, with holding down a full time job, with walking the dog, and doing the dishes, and the dozens of other small obligations that seem to crowd into my life.  When I reach the end of my day, I am just as often crashing into bed feeling like I narrowly escaped catastrophe as I am going to sleep with a prayer on my lips.  Right now I do not have the time, quiet, or capacity to be pursuing God like I ought to be.  Like I want to be…

…and that is okay…

You saw me before I was born.
    Every day of my life was recorded in your book.
Every moment was laid out
    before a single day had passed.
Psalm 139:16

Because God never changes.

His love for me is unwavering. No matter how I act, no matter what I do, His love for me remains.  Because Love is knit into His character just as firmly as fallibility is woven into mine.  God’s love is not based on merit, on effort, or on intentions.  It is based upon the fact that we are His beloved children, created by Him and treasured by him.

How precious are your thoughts about me, O God.
    They cannot be numbered!
I can’t even count them;
    they outnumber the grains of sand!
And when I wake up,
    you are still with me!
Psalm 139 17:18

I am, by nature a do-er.  I grew up in a family known for their good works.  My temptation is always to view my worth in terms of my worthiness in terms of what I have done to deserve love, to deserve mercy, and (let’s be honest) to deserve applause.  Living life in a day to day race to the finish line makes me feel as if I am somehow not measuring up.  When a day goes by and my Bible remains unread, I imagine it glaring at me from the nightstand, resentfully neglected.    When the pile of Christian Living books on my bookshelf is covered by a layer of dust, I see this as physical evidence of my unworthiness, of my failure as a disciple.

And yet, when I read scripture, this is simply not true.  God’s love for me is not tied to my efforts.  Who I am, my identity in Christ, is hidden in something much more solid than my own efforts.  I am a child of God.  Dearly loved.  Redeemed.  Delighted in. Known.  Seen.  Treasured.  None of this depends upon or even reflects what I do to deserve it.

I am beginning to feel that this time of darkness is truly a blessing.  Though I don’t always feel competent successful in this phase of life, I can come to rest on the truth that God’s love is built on the solid truth of who HE is, not on the capricious reality of who I am at the given moment.

I can never escape from your Spirit!
    I can never get away from your presence!
If I go up to heaven, you are there;
    if I go down to the grave,[a] you are there.
 If I ride the wings of the morning,
    if I dwell by the farthest oceans,
 even there your hand will guide me,
    and your strength will support me.
 I could ask the darkness to hide me
    and the light around me to become night—
   but even in darkness I cannot hide from you.
To you the night shines as bright as day.
    Darkness and light are the same to you.
Psalm 139:7-12

When you next find yourself in the valley, straining to feel God’s presence, and feeling condemned by your own shortcomings, I invite you to see this as a time of invitation.  A time to rest, to reflect, to intentionally not try to climb your way out.  Instead, join me in the process of waiting and listening.  And trust that God’s love is still there, still unwavering, still the truest thing about you.  For this has been a lesson that is changing my life right now.

Yet also, realize this- when I speak of the valley, I am using present tense.  I think we often view these chapters of life as lessons that need to be learned, or times we need to endure before we can bounce back, invigorated and ready to overcome.  Yes.  I am learning.  Yes, God is speaking.  But, yes.  I am still here in this place.

Often we don’t know the reasons or the answers to why things happen to us.  And that is yet another time when the big-ness of God can be a comfort.  For he knows I am here.  I am not forgotten.  Though I may not feel the closeness with God that I crave, though I may not feel the delight I once felt, I know God is there.  And for now, that will have to be enough.

Search me, O God, and know my heart;
    test me and know my anxious thoughts.
Point out anything in me that offends you,
    and lead me along the path of everlasting life.
Psalm 139:23-24

The Mindset of Scarcity

/ Marissa / 1 Comment

It is written in our nature that we expect there to be enough to go around. Enough money, enough time, enough love, enough friends, enough… blessings.  It is our human experience to realize, that to our great chagrin, this is not always the case.  Moments when we crash into this reality are always unsettling.  They feel like the experience when you leave a moving walkway and once again step on solid ground.  Your body lurches forward with momentum, yet your feet stagger below you, unused to their new yet familiar burden.

These predicaments often get a lot of press.  Poverty is a national conversation.  Loneliness is so pervasive that it is something of a shared experience, even in it’s very alone-ness.  And yet, scarcity of time is something that is so common that it has in many ways become our mode of operation.  It is almost a point of pride to be so busy juggling obligations that you have no margin for error.  Yet, our life is such a precious gift, simply enduring our days does not seem to be what he asks of us.

O Lord, make me know my end
    and what is the measure of my days;
    let me know how fleeting I am!
Behold, you have made my days a few handbreadths,
    and my lifetime is as nothing before you.
Surely all mankind stands as a mere breath! Selah
Psalm 39:4-5

I have just come out of a busy time at work.  It has only been in the past few days that I felt like I have had the ability to stop and take a breath, to look up and see the world around me.  The past three months have held so many responsibilities, trips away from home, odd and extra time spent at the office.  It can be hard to feel as if you are so busy at a time of year when other people seem to have time to relax.  However, when I take a step back, I realize that although I had a lot going on, and although I did it all, I had the completely wrong mentality.

Stimeomewhere along the line, I allowed myself to slip into what I think of as the mindset of scarcity. At some point, I told myself that there wasn’t enough time to do what I needed to do.  And with that assertion, things began to snowball.  I had less capacity to hold things in my head.  I had less patience for myself, for my kids, for my husband.  I began to cut corners at home, dishes began to pile up on the counter.  I became impatient and resentful of people who asked things of me, or who failed to immediately deliver what I asked of them.  I lost touch with friends.  I started skipping social events.   In other words, i was a royal pain to be around.

Why?

Because I had told myself that there wasn’t enough of me to go around.  That my mental and emotional stores were depleted.  Which felt true.  But with that statement, I was also telling myself a lie about God.  That he didn’t care.  That he couldn’t renew me, guide me, or console me.  That I simply had to survive what was ahead, instead of daring to engage or thrive within these challenges.  I slammed the door in God’s face.  I stopped carving out time for prayer and reflection.  I did not allow God the space he needed to renew me.

When I slip into the mindset of scarcity, the first thing that happens is that I feel frazzled.  Then I feel overburdened, then tired, then resentful.  I start focusing on what I don’t have, instead of celebrating what I do have.  I begin desperately hoarding quiet moments, only to fill them with my unquiet thoughts and anxieties.  Does that sound familiar to you?

What if, when we meet times of trials, we look in hope for God’s provinence?  What if we expect Him to turn up, to order our days, to replenish our flagging spirits? Think of how you could view new challenges with this mindset- eager to see what God will do, even, dare I say, what God will do through you? 

The best I can say about these past few months is that I survived.  Even while I was in the midst of it, I had a nagging feeling that I was doing it wrong.  But this feeling simply mixed in with the rest of the gloomy negativity to continue to drag me down.  However, it is my prayer and my hope that the next time I walk though this valley of scarcity, I will look to my Provider for strength, for hope, and for guidance!

Therefore, since we have been made right in God’s sight by faith, we have peace with God because of what Jesus Christ our Lord has done for us. Because of our faith, Christ has brought us into this place of undeserved privilege where we now stand, and we confidently and joyfully look forward to sharing God’s glory.

We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they help us develop endurance. And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation. And this hope will not lead to disappointment. For we know how dearly God loves us, because he has given us the Holy Spirit to fill our hearts with his love.
Romans 5:1-5

Selah

/ Marissa / Leave a comment

So.  I haven’t written for a while.

There are legitimate reasons why.  Work has been crazy.  Sleep has been short. I’ve been reading through 1 and 2 Chronicles (not exactly a get up a cheer part of the Bible). Emotionally, I have been in a funk.  When I drag myself (and my toddlers) through the door at night, often there is not much energy, passion, soul, left.

All those reasons sound valid.  But here is the real reason I haven’t been writing:  I have been neglecting the thing that this whole blog is supposed to be about.

Selah.

I have forgotten to Stop.  And I have forgotten to Listen.

How many days have I just plowed through without pausing even once to listen to what the Lord is trying to whisper?  How many gentle lessons have I raced through like yellow lights with my eyes fixed on the next thing?  How many joyless days have I lived recently without margin?

restI believe that the rhythms of God are like those of music.  The rests are an essential part of the melody.  The song feels incomplete without those beats of silence.  It seems fitting that the word Selah can also refer to a musical interlude… a moment to stop and reflect, an intentional break in the text.

The writers of the Psalms clearly understood that life has a pattern and a tempo.  That our days, much like our music, were meant to have stops and starts, periods of activity and periods of reflection.  This is not a concept that is given much value in today’s culture.  And yet, I get the feeling that something essential may be getting lost in the frenetic rush to the next thing.

When you are working on a project for your job- do you ever take a moment to intentionally disengage?  To step back and look at the big picture?  Or do you stare at the blue screen until the words stop making sense?  When you are with your family, do you take a moment to stop and breathe deeply and marvel- to truly see these human beings God has blessed you with?  Or do you find yourself instead trying to sneak moments to check your updates on your phone?  When you eat- do you even notice your food?  Savor the flavor, the texture of this wild and magical world?  Who else on the planet has their daily choice of global cuisine at their fingertips?  Yet I find myself spooning pad thai and queso fresco the same way I might eat oatmeal- mindlessly.

When was the last time I gave myself permission to take a beat during my day?  When is the last time I paused- to think, to pray, to marvel?  What would these stolen moments have cost me, truly?  And would it be worth the price to gain the feeling of mindfulness, to know that I am actually living my life?

Thinking of a concept like this, my proclivity is to rush to guilt.  To feel bad about the fact that I haven’t been nourishing my soul, and to resolve to add this to my ever-lengthening to do list for the next day.   But I have the feeling that the practice of selah may be one that refuses to allow me to remain in control.  That to learn how and when I need to pause and to reflect, I need to learn to listen to my life, listen to my soul.  That feels to me more like a building of awareness than a task to schedule.

It feels… intimidating.  inconvenient.  Yet also necessary.

The glorious thing is, we serve a God of new beginnings. One who wants us to succeed, and is constantly whispering encouragement and blessings over us.  I have a feeling if we take a step in faith, he will meet us more than halfway…

The faithful love of the Lord never ends!
    His mercies never cease.
Great is his faithfulness;
    his mercies begin afresh each morning.
Lamentations 3:22-23

Advent

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Truth: By this time last week, I was already sick of Christmas.  Those of you who know me may have a hard time believing that.  Christmas has always been my thing.  When my husband and I were dating, we had to have several (heated) conversations about when the appropriate date to start playing Christmas music would be.  (me- October 1st.  him- December 23rd)  However, working at a church makes Christmas your busiest time of year.  I have two MAJOR church events I am coordinating that happen between December 21st and 24th, involving most of that week and about 200 people.  Overwhelming.

And then there is the fact that I have two children.  All of a sudden, there is so much pressure to create Christmas memories.  Pictures with Santa.  Tours through the lights.  The perfect tree.  The decorated house.  The Pintastic holiday cards.  The music.  The cookies.  The candy.  The parties.  The Christmas PJs and Christmas dresses and angel breakfast and nativity plays and presents for daycare teachers and… And… AND…

It was December 8th.  My house was not decorated.  I had no tree.  No Christmas cards.  No energy.   I hadn’t been able to go to worship at my church for 2 weeks because I was too busy doing OTHER things for church.  I wanted it done.

Amy, my pastor/supervisor/friend, gave me great advice.  Advent is about celebrating the approach of Christmas, not its onslaught.  Instead of feeling overwhelmed that Christmas is only 3 weeks away, savor the fact that you still have 3 weeks to prepare for the coming of our Lord.

ad·vent
ˈadˌvent/
noun
 The arrival of a notable person, thing, or event.

Advent is the discipline of anticipation.  It is about arrival, not about adherence.  It is the practice of preparing our hearts and minds to meet the Lord.  It is not about decorations, trees, or creating new memories.  It is instead, about savoring the shared memory that we as Christians hold together.  Christ has come.  As a baby, as a Savior, as our Sacrificial Lamb.  This season is about privilege, not obligation.  And for me, it may not be about the date on the calendar.  I can celebrate the miracle of the birth of Christ just as honestly the week after Christmas as the week before.  And perhaps that needs to be part of my personal spiritual walk, at least in this stage of life.

But that doesn’t resolve what to do with the STUFF that comes along with Christmastime… And here is where I have landed.  I am going to try and mine the original intent from these practices.  I want to see these things as part of the celebration of advent.  The lights can remind us of Christ, the LIGHT of the world.  The parties, a way to celebrate this miracle with those who we hold dear.   The cards, a way to send our thoughts and love to our people far away.  The gifts, a chance to remember the Gift we have been given.  And if something robs me of my joy (*cough* ELF ON THE SHELF), it gets eliminated.

And now, from a better place of mind and heart, I can say,

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas
Let your heart be light… 

nativity

And then there is this… https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hgOIYvDgSLg

Confession

/ Marissa / Leave a comment

So.

I haven’t posted on here lately.  I’ve been busy.  I have had sick kids, a work retreat, the list goes on.  But that isn’t the real reason.

The real reason why I haven’t posted is because I have spent no time with God.

Zero.

It wasn’t intentional.  It wasn’t as if I looked at my Bible and then cast my eyes aside and said ‘No, not today.’ Instead, it was much worse.  Days skated by without even remembering to look at my Bible.  Prayers, when said, were mentally noted in shorthand as I turned on my turn signal or drifted off to sleep.  I just missed spending time with God.

So why didn’t I miss God?

I did, on an elemental level.  A vague ache in somewhere in my chest, akin to an oncoming headache or the tingling of a limb that is starting to fall asleep.  But why wasn’t I more aware, more broken, by my disconnection?

I don’t have an answer.  Or at least, I don’t have much of an answer.

This much I know is true…

I the Lord do not change. So you, the descendants of Jacob, are not destroyed. Ever since the time of your ancestors you have turned away from my decrees and have not kept them. Return to me, and I will return to you,” says the Lord Almighty.
Malachi 3:6-7

When I am faithless, He is faithful. Though I forget, he never forgets me.   When I am busy, when I am shallow, when I am impatient, and unforgiving, and angry, God remains true.

One time in college I was driving to the airport.  It was a foggy, overcast, drizzly day.  Everything in my view seemed flat, gloomy and tired.  But as I sat next to the window in the plane, we broke through the clouds.  In an instant, we went from a dark, gloomy midday to glorious, golden sunshine.  It had never occurred to me that the sun is always shining. Above the clouds, each day dawns drenched with light.  It is our perspective that makes the changes, the clouds that block our view.  God is much the same.  He is ever faithful, ever true.  It is our attitudes, our faithfulness (or lack thereof) that affect our point of view.

So I will try to be more committed.  I will attempt to read my Bible, spend time with the Lord, mark gratitude and blessings.  All these are good things.  But I also must remember the most powerful lesson… God is faithful.  Always.  His attention towards me never wavers.  His call on my life remains true.

Isaac Moments, Part II

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Take your son, your only son—yes, Isaac, whom you love so much—and go to the land of Moriah. Go and sacrifice him
Genesis 22:2

I remember the first time I ever practiced Lectio Divina.  I was in a class and we were asked to meditate on Genesis 22, the story of God asking Abraham to sacrifice Isaac.  It was a time of my life when I was experiencing a lot of loss, and I remember myself being furious with God.  How dare he?  How dare he constantly ask us to give up our treasures, the people that we love, our tangible proof of God’s promises?  Why?  What kind of heartless, egotistical God would constantly require such sacrifice?  Why was he constantly stripping us of things that we cherish, relationships that we need?

For a long time after this experience, I just avoided the passage.  I just told myself that this was the Old Testament God (always a convenient excuse, yes?)  And that our God is different, he doesn’t take all that we love from us.  But still, in the back of my mind, a small ember of resentment glowed orange.

It wasn’t until I had children myself, that I found a new understanding of this passage.  For, as I wrote in an earlier post, parenting is terrifying.  Every day I am confronted with a myriad of terrors, I’m always reading about newly uncovered dangers to my child’s health, well being, psyche.    It’s enough to make me want to tape him up in a suit of bubble wrap, and force him to wear a helmet 24 hours a day.  But then again, that would make him that kid, and cause harm of another kind.  When God called Abraham to lay his precious boy on the altar, he is asking him to trust.  He is asking Abraham to put GOD first in his life, and to trust that God has a plan.  One that is ultimately good.  For us.  For our precious children.  For the world.

For you see, when I was reflecting on this passage initially, I missed one important point.  God provided a sacrifice.  Abraham didn’t have to murder his son in order to please his Father.  What was placed on that altar ultimately was not Isaac, it was Abraham’s expectations for his son.  Who he thought that Isaac would be, what he thought Isaac should be.  Abraham’s expectations of control, of pride, of success.  God asked Abraham to trust in God’s good plan, and the second Abraham was faithful to this call, a sacrifice was provided.  A new way, heretofore unseen, was given.

When we unclench our fists and ask for God’s plan, not our plan, to determine our steps, the sacrifice is complete.*  God isn’t taking away the things we treasure out of spite or ego.  Instead, he is inviting us into freedom.  Asking us to trust that life isn’t about us and our plans, but about a bigger, better plan, that we can’t even see or appreciate fully.  It takes the pressure off of ourselves to get it right, and places the expectation upon God to provide. Life becomes less about fear of what could happen, and more about a breathless expectation to see what will happen.

Selah.

*Just to be clear, the sacrifice I am referring to here isn’t the Ultimate Sacrifice, Jesus’ atonement for our sins.  Instead, I am referring to the sacrifice Abraham was asked to offer- to give up control and his sense of power over his own destiny, and to trust God to provide…

psalm 46

/ Marissa / Leave a comment

Psalm 46

 God is our refuge and strength,
    a very present help in trouble.
2 Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way,
    though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea,
3 though its waters roar and foam,
    though the mountains tremble at its swelling. Selah

4 There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,
    the holy habitation of the Most High.
5 God is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved;
    God will help her when morning dawns.
6 The nations rage, the kingdoms totter;
    he utters his voice, the earth melts.
7 The Lord of hosts is with us;
    the God of Jacob is our fortress. Selah

8 Come, behold the works of the Lord,
    how he has brought desolations on the earth.
9 He makes wars cease to the end of the earth;
    he breaks the bow and shatters the spear;
    he burns the chariots with fire.
10 “Be still, and know that I am God.
    I will be exalted among the nations,
    I will be exalted in the earth!”
11 The Lord of hosts is with us;
    the God of Jacob is our fortress. Selah

Once again,  I find myself captivated by Selah.  I read this Psalm last week as part of our church’s sermon series, and it has really stuck with me.  This psalm paints such a picture of tumult, of mountains tottering, seas roaring, nations at war, chaos everywhere.  And yet, in the midst of it, God is our fortress.  When I hear the news lately, I find myself just wanting to turn it back off. There is so much hate, strife, death, upheaval, disaster and pain in our world today.  I want to find a safe place for me and my little family and just run away from it all.  But this is not the way of believers.  Instead, we are called to make our haven in the midst of the storms.  Why?  Because God is our fortress.  He is our present help in times of trouble.  He is with us wherever we go.

Each stanza in this Psalm paints a bleak picture, one of chaos, fear, insecurity.  One characterized by stress and unrest.  And yet in each stanza, God reminds us that he is present.  That he is our refuge, our source of strength.  How often in the midst of the chaos do you feel God’s presence?  For me, not much.  It is only in retrospect that I can see his sustenance, his provision for me.  In the middle of it, I am too afraid, moving too fast, too distracted to even look for God.  But even still… he is there.

I think that God put the Selahs in this Psalm in very strategic places.  Right in the midst of the teeming chaos, the frenetic pace, the sky is falling emotions, God inserts a simple selah.  Stop.  Think on this.  God is telling us he is here, that he is protecting us, but we have to stop and stand in trust in order to feel His presence. In verse 10, he even says it flat out.  BE STILL, and know that I am God.  I am in control.  Not you.  I am a fortress.  You are safe within my walls.  Be still and trust me.  Be still and remember.  Stop.  And think on my faithfulness.  Stop your striving and remember that I am the one who sustains you.  I hold your tomorrows in my hand.

When is the last time you stopped?

When were you last still?