Did you know yesterday, the second Friday in January, is called “Quitter’s Day”? By yesterday, a majority of people have stopped whatever they resolved to do or not do. Rather than depressing me, I actually love that statistic, because now, I’m calling Quitter’s Day by a new name - Awareness Eve. And that makes today Awareness Day, a day to celebrate!

Awareness Day is a day of celebration, because it brings shines a light on the insufficiency of stand-alone outcome goals. For me, this awareness brings hope and the possibility of a better, deeper and more sustainable way to move forward.

What Are Outcome Goals?

Most resolutions are what are called Outcome Goals. They are external, that is, the criteria for success is about something seen from the outside. Here’s some examples of outcome goals:

• Lose 20 pounds

• Complete a marathon

• Increase income by 50%

• Read 30 books (or 66, like the Bible) in 1 year

• Attend church every week

• Wear a capsule wardrobe

• Quit an unhealthy habit

• Pretty much anything on a bucket list

Outcome goals are dualistic with clear definitions of success and failure or right and wrong. They are conceived in the analytical left brain and focus on performance and the perfection of the end product. They also are dependent on a mixture of things within a person’s control and outside of their control.

The Ghost of Resolutions Past

Go back with me to December 31. Like Scrooge and the Ghost of Christmas past, let’s observe a person we’ll call Brenda. Brenda wakes up from her holiday stupor and feels bad about herself because she indulged over Christmas and dropped every wellness habit in the enjoyment of holiday feasting. Scale shame is all over her when she steps into the bathroom. Her left brain sees all this as “bad” and serves her an external “solution” — she resolves to start a diet and walk one mile a day with the goal to complete a marathon by the end of the year.

Practically immediately Brenda imagines an external picture of what success would look like. She sees herself free of feeling bad and looking great as she fits into slim jeans that are impossible now. She walks into Starbucks one Saturday from her home three miles away, looking fresh as a daisy. Brenda the athlete effortlessly flies across the finish line at the Fall Fling 10K.

Brenda does great for awhile. She starts believing this can happen and feels pretty happy and successful - all good feelings. Then the shift comes — she begins to slip from the platform of perfection she’s created for herself. In a stressful moment she reaches for the goodie. She misses one day walking that turns into two. She gets an injury. Perfection and achievement (as Brenda has imagined it) is starting to feel less possible, and instead of feeling good, she feels bad. So her left brain takes the reins again and protects her from those bad feelings. “Better that I just give up,” Brenda says to herself. According to a couple of studies, this happens to her within a few weeks of January 1.

Happy Awareness Day! Let Go and Go Deeper

At this point Brenda is tempted to box up her failure, forget the resolution (if her inner critic lets her) and go back to life. Growth and flourishing feel far away right now.

But what if Brenda sees this as an opportunity for awareness and growth? What if she starts celebrating Awareness Day?

The first awareness might be that outcome goals by themselves are inadequate. They stack the odds of growth and flourishing against you from the get-go. The big reason is that outcome goals view the achievement as the aim, not growth or flourishing. Fail at an outcome goal and feelings of shame and fear stop you dead.

What if the problem isn’t the outcome, but that Brenda approached it too soon? What if outcomes were never meant to be the end but instead a supportive process of something deeper?

Goodbye Outcome Goals and Hello Growth Goals

So, on Awareness Day, let’s celebrate and re-orient. What would it look like if Brenda walks back a few steps before the outcome goal? What if she transforms them into a process within a greater growth goal?

I see this like establishing a rose in a garden. If the rose’s flourishing is the gardener’s desire, just putting it in the ground (the outcome goal) doesn’t support that goal. Within the context of a growth goal, planting the rose is part of the process, seeing a bush that continues to grow and flourish is the deeper goal. Site selection, soil preparation, watering, feeding, pruning, and more are parts of the process. So are observing the rose and making changes as needed to support greater thriving.

Like the gardener, when we choose a growth goal, we broaden the context and deepen our attention. We tune into the right brain — the intuitive side that goes deep to what is truly important about the process and mindful within the process. We also ignite the creative and intuitive parts of our brain which marvelously support the growth goal.

What Is a Growth Goal?

Simply put, growth goals are internal and connect to our deepest values and ideals. While this is seemingly paradoxical, growth goals are also are non-achievable. There is no “arriving” in a growth goal, but they are trajectories that we can always realign to and grow into.

The beauty of this is that it takes the left brain dualism out of the picture. When missteps happen in the process of growth, there is evaluation and realignment to the growth goal. Instead of shame, we can experience more of God’s grace and unconditional love. Instead of fear of failure we can lean into an invitation to grow into courage where fear becomes increasingly irrelevant.

What Are My Growth Goals?

As a Christian, when I look to growth goals that align with my ideals and values, I find a good starting point is the context of the Christian virtues: Faith, Hope, Love, Wisdom, Justice, Courage, and Temperance. If you’re looking for growth goals, this can be a good list to begin with and explore.

Take Time to Ask a Few Questions

• Which of these virtues is God inviting me to embrace as a growing edge in this season?

• Which specific areas of life would invite growth in a virtue in a meaningful way?

• What processes would support my growth and flourishing in this virtue?

• What outcome goals present in my life right now, can be transformed to process goals within a greater growth goal?

• What outcome goals don’t serve any greater purpose and need to go?

What Is Now Possible?

So on this Awareness Day, if you are feeling like quitting, I encourage you to do just that. Quit outcome goals and realign your trajectory toward a growth goal. Consider what the growth goals and supporting processes can be for you. If coaching or spiritual direction is a part of the process, I’d be honored to explore that with you.

Decades ago I received my first “one word” that was thematic for the new year. Most years I received the word and a few years I chose the word. However it came, each year I felt an assurance that the word was the “right word” for that season, arriving in the fullness of time.

For several years (and I think this one may be life-long), the word was “Trust.” This year my word is “Welcome.” The words I feel are God-given and the more I leaned into them, the more God taught me about the word, its meaning, and its purpose for me as I walked the year with my Creator.

Do you have a word or theme for the new year?

If you do, great! If not, and you’d like to, you can bring this question into prayer. God may direct you to a word or may invite you to choose a word for yourself.

Keith Webb, coach and founder of Creative Results Management, settled on “Thrive” as his word for 2025. He proposed several reflective questions about his word which I thought would be great for mine, too. I’ve added a few questions that I’ve found helpful and created a blank space here where you can write in your word or theme.

Before we jump into the questions, I’ve found preparation is helpful and supports my desire to not only receive the word but deeply encounter what God desires for my transformation.

The Effectual Partnership

Contemplation and action are partners in the process of progress. All great change begins in silence and proceeds to action.

Begin with silence.

As I silently walk the rooms and passages of my interior castle, as Teresa of Avila describes it, I find myself given the opportunity to observe and explore my heart, mind, soul, and spirit. I also become more present and open to God’s voice and invitation. I find myself more able to honestly answer these questions.

I invite you to begin with a pause. Dropping gently into stillness, breathing a bit slower and deeper than usual. Allow the miscellaneous thoughts in your mind to become quieter in your awareness. Gather your whole being and your senses in a posture of rest. Notice that God is present with you.

I have stilled and calmed my whole being, content like a child resting against its mother is my whole being. Ps. 131:2

Now, bring in the questions, listen deeply, and note your reflections.

Imagine...

What does ____________________ mean to me?

What would be different if I were ____________________ -ing?

Listen...

What stirs in me, even as I think of ____________________?

What doubts emerge?

Reflect...

What needs to shift in me to ____________________?

What would I need to do differently?

Am I willing?

Foster…

What creates an environment for ____________________?

What gets in the way?

What are ____________________- rhythms I could begin doing?

Who would I like to join me to ____________________ this year?

Before the new year begins to push you forward into the tyranny of the urgent, I invite you to invest time in reflection on your word for this year. This word came to you for a purpose. It was given to you to unbox and examine, embrace, and explore.

From Contemplation to Action - Two More Questions

Answer after you’ve invested appropriate space and time in reflection.

What is my response to this divine invitation?

What is one right-sized step I can take right now to get started in ____________________?

May the Lord bless you as you take your word with you into the new year!

Postscript

Being a bit of a brain geek, I love how God creates our minds with what experts call the Reticular Activating System. Its main function is to be the gatekeeper of our conscious mind — to identify what is important and filter what is important into our conscious mind. It seems both natural and wonderful to me that God uses the “one word” method to support the contemplative/right brain work and center my “left brain” mind for the year!

Metaphor Monday: Light in Unexpected Places

Last Saturday evening as night was gathering in and we were driving home, I saw peeking in and out of the oaks that lined the road a beautiful array of sunset colors – dark blue grays, brilliant orange and yellow. The odd thing was, it wasn’t to the west, it was in the direction of home – north. I suggested a slightly different route to speed us more quickly to this transient display and as we passed under the highway, the vista opened to our north as we approached Yankee Lake and the Lower Wekiva Preserve that borders our home. We pulled to the side, quickly aimed our phones and did our best to capture this amazing light show. In just a few minutes the light expired and we could but hold the moment in a more expansive memory and in the smaller digital capacity of our phones.

I’ve been pondering this memory for a few days, allowing the magnificence of the moment and the colorful light to illume my  cognitive space, which often makes metaphorical connections. I’ll offer a few here for your consideration and contemplation.

Light from unexpected directions

When sunsets unfold, we expect the most spectacular display of light, color and shape to be in the western sky. Saturday night’s western sky was flat gray — dark and dull. But, oh, the north! How it was given the unexpected gift of being the direction of interest and God’s canvas that night!

Where am I expecting God to move in known spaces, but the Holy is actually creating something new in an unexpected space?

See, I am doing a new thing!
    Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the wilderness
    and streams in the wasteland.
Isaiah 43:19 NIV

Sunsets in the north

I am in the midst of preparation of a Life Compass Practice which I’ll be offering an online group this fall. I’ve often used this practice with clients as a tool to reorient and reconnoiter within the landscape of their life. The north is symbolic of guidance, and the west is the direction of endings. What transpires when a shift happens, and sunset is seen where guidance is expected?

What have I been using as a “North Star” to guide me, that God is asking me to release? What limiting beliefs and attitudes need to be cast off?

Principles and practicums

What I’ve noticed with these metaphorical forays is that God, not being one to waste anything in the cosmic economy, gently brings these to my awareness because I’ll be putting them into practice in my journey in the not-too-distant future. This aspect of God’s courteousness, as Julian of Norwich puts it, affirms God’s goodness through his patience and kindness, even at work in sunset light and color coming from an unexpected direction.

We can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good.
Romans 8:28 MSG

The post Metaphor Monday: Light in Unexpected Places first appeared on living selah.

Photini, The Samaritan Woman

How our presumptions about her obscure an amazing synergy

Whenever the story of the Samaritan woman is preached or taught, certain presumptuous add-ons frequently, perhaps inevitably, show up. These presumptions, while deeply rooted in cultural bias and traditional interpretation, don’t track with what scripture actually says (and doesn’t say) about the Samaritan woman. 

On this, St. Photini’s feast day of February 26, let’s look at these presumptive assertions and why they don’t track. Then let’s look at how her conversation with Jesus reveals a grander and more glorious narrative.^⁠1

I offer these alternative possibilities for the presumptions that are made about the Samaritan woman. I present them solely as possibilities, and not as certainties or presumptions, lest I be found equally at fault as those with which I find fault. I do find concerning that many seem to be okay with “adding to scripture” and besmirch the Samaritan woman’s character in ways that scripture does not. Yet these same people would not choose to think better of the Samaritan woman and her situation and consider other possibilities, ones that actually agree with the narrative, and how Jesus himself related to her.

On with the presumptions…

Presumption 1: She was a woman of loose morals (adulteress)

The Samaritan woman readily talks of worshiping God and recognizes that Jesus was a prophet. Jesus in response, does not judge, criticize or condemn her. In fact, sin, confession of sin, repentance, or forgiveness is not mentioned in the entire conversation of John 4. There is no “Go and sin no more” or “Your sins are forgiven” in this, the longest recorded conversation a person had with Jesus.

Also, her community believed her testimony before even meeting Jesus. Meeting Jesus confirmed what they already believed because of her testimony. This implies a level of trustworthiness within her community.

Presumption 2: She was with a man who wasn’t her husband, and Jesus called her out for her sin

As noted previously, sin is not mentioned in John 4. While cohabitation without formal marriage was a possible (and sometimes legally necessary) option, it was not the only possibility (see below.) She may have had no dowry, and therefore wouldn’t have a marriage contract. For whatever reason, she was not married to the man she currently “had” and Jesus commends her honestly in saying she had no husband without condemning her state or inviting her to change it. 

Presumption 3: She was a serial divorcee

What were the possible reasons for five husbands? Scripture is silent here, but divorce certainly would not be the only reason. Death from old age (old men marrying young women was not unusual), casualty of war, murder, accident, or disease were very real possibilities for some or even all of her husbands. 

While divorce could possibly account for the end of some of the marriages, it is not stated as such in the account. If we admit the possibility of divorce, it is also important to note that within this culture, either husband or wife could initiate divorce legally. Women could initiate with a male advocate and men could initiate by themselves. The divorce could be for a variety of reasons, not only for barrenness or adultery.

What scripture does say is she had five husbands, something that was unusual and certainly unusual for Jesus to know. Jesus affirms her statement, acknowledges her honesty, and gives an account of her marital history and present state in a matter of fact way.

Presumption 4: She came to the well at midday because of shame

Coming at noon and alone was stated factually in scripture, without any criticism of the method or time of her coming. She may have needed more water that day for some reason, or something may have prevented her from getting water earlier. What was noted as unusual was Jesus’s request for the Samaritan woman to serve him water. 

Finally, in Genesis 29 we read that Rachel, Jacob’s future wife, was at the well in the middle of the day. Was she there because of shame? (Interestingly, Jesus is meeting the Samaritan woman at the well named after that same Jacob.)

Presumption 5: The Samaritan woman “changed the subject” because Jesus found her out

Jesus actually first changes the subject of the conversation by asking about her husband, knowing she didn’t have a husband currently. Then with her reply and his response, she perceives he knows details he should not know and declares Jesus a prophet. Jesus could have redirected the conversation back to her present lack of marital union, but instead goes with her deeper questions and in turn, invites her into deeper spiritual truths. 

The nagging question is of course, why didn’t he call her out? Was anyone in scripture able to manipulate a conversation with Jesus? If anything, we are told time and again that when someone was trying to manipulate a conversation, Jesus knew and did not allow it. Since this was the longest conversation recorded with Jesus in the Bible, he had ample opportunity to call her out, but he didn’t. Is it possible that it was because there was no reason?

Summary: What we actually do know about the Samaritan woman from scripture

• She was getting water at midday. 

• Jesus asked her for water, and she conversed  at length with him.

• She had 5 husbands, which was admittedly unusual.

• The man she was living with wasn’t her husband.

• She was spiritually inquisitive. 

• She was a voice in her community that people listened to and believed. 

• Her testimony compelled others to come and see Jesus for themselves. 

Was the Samaritan woman’s backstory shameful, or just unusually tragic?

Is it okay to continually besmirch the reputation of a woman whom Jesus commended for her honesty? A woman who was the first documented evangelist in the gospels? 

Can we drop our cultural bias that classifies the Samaritan woman as another “fallen woman” that Jesus saw in her shameful state and yet  “loved anyway” or “used anyway”? It makes a great conversion story, and who doesn’t love a great conversion story? But a conversion story that is supported by manufactured immortality does no service to the cause of Christ.

What are we presuming about Jesus?

While we are on the subject of presumptions, in making presumptions about the Samaritan woman, there are some implicit presumptions we make about Jesus. The first is that Jesus is okay with sinful behavior, as he never names it or invites repentance. The second is that Jesus was not able to see the truth in this woman’s heart, and allowed the conversation to be turned to spiritual matters without resolving her immoral and sinful state. If we believe this, I ask myself, what in the world has happened to the Jesus I know?

Finally, do these presumptions blind us to a greater and grander conversion story? A story that places a loving Jesus and his mission to seek and save a lost humanity at the center. 

What is really going on at Jacob’s well?

What if we see Photini* as the counterpart to Nicodemus?

*The Orthodox church recognizes the Samaritan woman as Saint Photini, “the enlightened one.” So, I will refer to her by this name from this point on.

Is it more than coincidence that Nicodemus’s story is in John 3, and Photini’s is in John 4? When read together, an amazing synergy arises. 

• Both encountered Jesus in unusual circumstances.

• Both were willing to defy religious rules of conduct to speak with Jesus.

• Jesus spoke prophetically to both.

• Both dialogued with Jesus and both were discipled by Jesus.

• Both recognized Jesus was one who heard from God. 

• With both Jesus began with a natural concept (birth for Nicodemus and thirst for Photini) 

• With both he enlarged their spiritual understanding (spiritual birth the Nicodemus and spiritual life and worship for Photini)

• To both Jesus reveals his divinity

• Jesus then revealed himself personally to them both; to Nicodemus as Savior and to Photini as Messiah.^⁠2

• With both Jesus reveals the activity of the Holy Spirit within conversion.^⁠3

Jesus’s interaction with Photini was his longest recorded conversation. He recognized her honesty and desire to know who he was and rewarded her with great spiritual truth, including Jesus’s identity as Messiah. She then went into her village and freely proclaimed what Jesus told her, becoming the first evangelist recorded in the Gospels. 

After this conversation, Jesus said to the disciples, “I have food that you don’t know about.”

Are we also ignorant of the feast of spiritual truth laid before us in John 3 and 4? 

More reflections on Photini

Go didn’t ask Photini to repent or change anything about her situation at this time. She herself knew her situation. What she didn’t know is that God brought this man into the the midst of her life that could speak for HIm. And when she became aware of that, she jumped right into how she could enter into a closer communion with God – “Where should I be worshipping?”

What does Jesus say? In Spirit – right here and now, and in truth. Because these are the worshippers God seeks. You don’t have to seek God if you’re in this posture – God will seek you out. And if you ask for the Spirit to fill you as streams of living water, God will do this. Just ask! 

When Photoni said, “He told me all I’ve ever done” we presume (again) this was just about he husbands, but she never says that. What Jesus first says to her is, “If you knew.” Did what Jesus know include her inner thirst for God? He knew her heart, no doubt. Did he see the thirst, the longing as yet unmet and sought for on the mountain where she worshipped? This is the good news Photini shared with her community – that God sees our longing for deeper relationship with Him and sent his Son, the Messiah. 

I’m not going to get into prevenient grace or irresistible grace here. That’s another conversation for another time. But Jesus spoke to a thirst that Photoni presumed was physical, but by the end of the conversation she felt a dawning awareness that Jesus spoke of a deeper spiritual thirst. The thirst David expressed, “As a deer pants for water, my soul pants for you. Where can I meet with you, the living God?” 

Then came the kicker. “Go, get your husband.” Does she tell Jesus the truth? Will this man make a false presumption? She takes the risk, tells the truth, and Jesus affirms her fidelity to veracity. “Yes, you said rightly…” and for whatever reason, nothing more needed to be said about the subject of husbands. But more was said about worship. 

Those who worship God will do so in Spirit – the living water Jesus freely give so of His Spirit, and in truth, the honest humility of an open heart. Because these are the ones the Father seeks. Those like you, Photoni. God is seeking you, and you have found Him at the well, in the midst of your daily life. 

Photoni’s life wasn’t easy. With five husbands, she likely never experienced much stability. Her roots had to go deep. This is why when she realized Jesus wasn’t talking about regular water, she dove into the deep end. She asks, “How to worship this God who knows me and wants to give me a fountain of life inside?” Then Jesus tells her she doesn’t need to do anything other than worship God in your spirit with honesty, and then God will seek you out. 

¹ I do want to recognize the amazing scholarly work done by Marg Mowczko on the Samaritan woman. This blog post first put me on the trail to discover more about Photini and explore the idea of her being a counterpart to Nicodemus. samaritan-woman-john-4

² I’m intrigued that this was not done vice-versa by Jesus, which would have been the expected order. Nicodemus needed a Savior, Photini needed a Messiah.

³ With Nicodemus, Jesus explains the process of being birthed of the Holy Spirit. In his conversation with Photini, Jesus promises her that if she asked, springs of living water would flow from within her. Compare this with Jeremiah 17:13 we’re God refers to himself as a Spring of living water. So living water coming from within is a reference to the gift of the Holy Spirit, the first time recorded where Jesus makes reference to the indwelling of the Holy Spirit.

The post Photini, The Samaritan Woman first appeared on living selah.

Emotions in the Dock

This post on emotions and the one that precedes it had its genesis following my own questioning of emotions and their place within the context and conduct of life for myself as a disciple of Jesus. I found so many conflicting opinions on emotions, from blame to banishment. Our difficulties and failures when processing emotions may be a causal agent in the current interest in stoicism within the ranks of Christendom.

My first post was about where and what the heart is, from the perspective of ancient Hebrew. Now let’s explore the place of emotions, in ancient Hebrew, in God’s interaction with humanity as seen in scripture, and through insights from my own study and experience. 

“God in the Dock” is the title of a series of essays on theology and ethics by C.S. Lewis. I’m doing a riff on this idea by placing our emotions “in the dock” and allowing them their day in court. 

Where are our deepest emotions located?

In Hebrew culture we’ve learned, the heart lev includes the mind, will, and intent (see my Part 1 post here.) So where are the emotions, you may ask? The seat of our deepest emotions are described as being the “kilyah,” literally the “kidneys.”^⁠1 That might sound unusual to Western ears, but wait a minute. What do we know about the kidneys? Kidneys are vital to life and are located deep inside the body. Kidneys as part of the renal system keep our body fluids in balance and clean the body of toxins. 

There is something amazing and beautiful about that metaphor. What if our emotions are God’s way of keeping us in balance and clearing what is toxic from our inner being?

In scripture we are told God formed our kilyah (Psalm 139:3) and that our kilyah can also chastise, admonish and instruct us (Psalm 16:7.)

As I contemplate those two verses, I notice two big distinctives about my emotions God wants me to know. First, the seat of my emotions is something that God made and isn’t part of my fallen nature. Sure, the emotions can be used by the fallen nature, the sarx in Greek as Paul calls it (what many English bibles translate as the “flesh”) or what some call the “false self.” But my capacity for emotion is part of what God called “very good” when the first human was created. 

The second is that my emotions can admonish and instruct me. I find this interesting, since Christians often want to do the exact opposite and use our thoughts to chastise, admonish, and instruct our emotions. 

The problems with emotions isn’t the emotions

Why do we often feel so ambivalent about our emotions? Or sometimes feel like we have to haul our emotions out into the middle of the street, tie them to a pole and then beat the metaphorical tar out of them? Or put them in handcuffs and hide them away? Often it’s because they feel too much, too strong, maybe sometimes overwhelming. 

The feelings of overwhelm are also why we often act inappropriately on our emotions, which is in reality another way of shutting them down and shutting them up. Road rage, abuse, suicide, murder and addiction are just some of the ways people hurtfully mismanage the emotions that rise up inside them. Emotions feel dangerous and frightening, and I get that. I’ve lived enough life that I’ve experienced all of the above, either for myself or in doing life with others. But it’s important to note this: It’s not the emotion itself, but the actions and choices we make that have the ability to cause destruction, hurt, and pain.

So, we shut down our emotions, vilify and run from them, and as Christians, spiritualize those choices. The problem is, the emotion doesn’t go away. Anxiety, depression, psychosomatic illness, and other disorders of our bodies and minds bear witness to this reality. My emotion isn’t the problem. How I respond to it can be a problem, but it can also be a great gift.

Emotions, good and God-given

We Christians do admit (sometimes grudgingly) that God has emotions. but we seem to feel that we’re not entitled to have them as image bearers. Or if we feel an emotion, that we must immediately doubt it, discount it or erase any importance it has. 

As an aside, if you’ve read my last post, you know about the issues concerning the left side or “rational” part of the brain. And yet that is often the part of us taking our emotions to the woodshed or locking them in the basement. 

What I see in scripture is that God understands that we are emotional beings. He acknowledges and respects that part of us. When Elijah was discouraged and exhausted after running away from Jezebel, God gave him space. God fed him, allowed him to rest, and then gently spoke to him.  When Jonah got angry that God allowed for repentance in Ninevah, God gave him time, then asked him about His anger.

The Psalms are replete with emotional content — venting of anger, frustration, fear, passion — the whole spectrum of emotional response. Paul tells us to “be angry, but don’t sin” which implies that even a so-called negative emotion like anger can be felt without sinning.

God examines and tests our emotions 

We’ve all experienced tests in our lives. From our early school years we had multiple choice and true/false questions. Then came the word problems, when memorization became practice. If you went  further in study, you’d inevitably get to oral exams and defending a thesis. This is when your understanding of the subject was really tested. 

This brings us to another question. Unlike teachers, who are testing to find out if we know our subject matter, God already knows us down to the molecular level. So why does God test our kidneys? Not for His sake, but for ours. He invites us to have a curious stance toward our emotions. 

When God tested His people’s emotions in scripture, He often used oral exams. He asked Jonah, “Is it right for you to be angry?” He invited Elijah to be curious about His emotions, and asked him to express and explore His feelings of being alone and under a death sentence. Only after this did God encourage Elijah with what is true. 

God heals our wounds

I love that one of the ways God names himself is Jehovah Rapha  — the Lord who heals. Rapha means to restore, heal, stitch up. God stitches our wounds. 

He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. Psalm 147:3

Something that surprised me in my scripture exploration is that this word “brokenhearted” actually is not about the kilyah, but about our “lev” — which includes the thoughts, will, and intentions. Often these parts of us keep our emotions hidden, so it’s not the emotions that are wounded, but our ways of encountering them, through thoughts and inner vows formed through life experiences. God can help us heal here as well. 

God invites us into the process

Should we examine our emotions with God? Absolutely, as He is the best judge of our emotional responses. David asked God to explore and know His anxieties, to see make visible any hurtful pattern in his life, and guide him in the path that is eternal (Psalms 139:23-24.) The eternal path is one characterized by the fruit of the Spirit — love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control.

Entering the experience of healing

Sometimes our emotional responses are rooted in old experiences that caused us to feel one way, and are appearing in a new situation because of that old experience. 

For example, when I was a child our family struggled financially for several years. There were times where I witnessed my single Mom’s great anxiety over keeping a roof over our head and food in our mouths. I felt afraid, out of control, and a sense of shame. 

Fast forward several decades, and I got a bill that was unexpectedly large. I immediately felt the fear, lack of control, and shame, even though financially I wasn’t struggling and could afford to pay the bill. Was it a bit of an “Ouch!” to my budget? Yes, but it didn’t warrant the initial emotional response. God the Holy Spirit helped me explore where those feelings came from and how it was understandable that a child would have felt as I did. Then He reminded me that the two situations were different, and assured me of the Father’s promise to supply all my needs. That experience and my willingness to test my emotions with God not only healed the current situation, it healed my past wounds.

Sometimes despite our best efforts, we can’t figure out our emotional responses. Through my life I’ve had a particular negative emotion just show up and I’ve never been able to connect it to anything, and trust me, I’ve tried. Maybe it’s something from my early childhood that is part of the “childhood amnesia” that happens to most of us when we get to about age 4. When it comes, I acknowledge it, bring to prayer, ask God to remind me that I am His and I am loved, and move forward. 

God heals with the skills of others

Some of my personal most profound healing has come through the wisdom and presence of another. Spiritual directors and companions, coaches, counselors, and dear friends have been the parts of the body of Christ that God has used to facilitate and bring about my own healing. Therapeutic work through Internal Family Systems has helped me identify and understand the parts of myself that needed healing and integration. 

God has placed us in community for a reason. We don’t have to take this journey in isolation. It’s okay to seek safe and skilled people to help you heal. 

The holistic mystery

I hope what we’ve talked about so far has been helpful to you. Whenever I do a an exploration like this into what makes us who we are as image bearers and human beings I am blessed. There is also an inevitable discontent and longing because words and definitions can only take us so far. 

The God who created us is mystery. the Trinity that is One and yet individual, eternal and yet became incarnate in space and time. And that is just the tip of the mysterious iceberg. As image bearers we also are mysterious to ourselves. But Jeremiah 17:9 and 10 give me hope. God understands what is mysterious to me. He examines my thoughts, will and intent and tests my feelings and emotions. The stories of saints in scripture show us that He invites us into the process as well. I recall the scripture that says it is the glory of kings to explore a matter. And sometimes that matter, (speaking as a one of a kingdom of priests) is our own selves. 

Emotions are part of our formation and conforming

Our lives consist of both being and doing, of reflection and action. When I ignore parts of my God-given being that a loving Father invites me to explore with Him, I wrongly exercise my free will to keep my formation stunted and shallow. When I accept God’s invitation, I deepen my relationship with Him, and grow into the person He created me to be. I am brought into closer and deeper alignment with the image of Jesus, who was also a person with “heart and kidneys” — thoughts, will, intent, feelings, and emotions. Jesus walked the path of humanity and we as disciples are being conformed into the image of the Father’s dear Son. Let us not get in the way of that process of restoration by shying away from our emotions, but welcome God into the process of understanding, healing, and growing through our emotions, not in spite of them. 

¹ https://www.torahapologetics.com/language–word-studies/hebrew-anatomy-part-2-The-kidneys

The post Emotions in the Dock first appeared on living selah.

“My heart wasn’t in it.” 

I listened to my coaching client Mark discuss vocational options for his next season. As a retiring senior executive, he was seeking a purposeful path. With each possibility he explored, this phrase would punctuate his reflections. I could feel his sadness and frustration. 

Until I asked, “So Mark, where is your heart?” And this question seemed to unlock something deep and genuine within him. Mark began to see a path forward into where God was inviting him to partner in vocation. 

“Listen To Your Heart?” Now Wait A Minute!

The church seems to have a complex relationship with the heart and its associated emotions, ranging from ambivalence to outright dismissal. When the topic of feelings and emotions comes up in conversation, books or preaching, you often hear phrases like these:

“You can’t trust your feelings/emotions”

“Our feelings are unreliable and cannot be trusted to convey truth.”

“Do not spend too much time analyzing your feelings.“

“We must not allow our emotions to hold sway over our minds.”

“Faith, not feelings”

“Following your heart is one of Hell’s most effective slogans.”

These sound very good and some might even say, full of godly wisdom. Many of the above were pulled directly from books by well known Christian authors. Though not in the Bible, we quote them as if they were. 

I hear some of you now — “Well, we admit they are extra-biblical, but they have a prophet’s proof text.”

“The heart is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked, who can know it?” Jeremiah 17:9

Ah yes, that old deceitful and wicked heart. Who in their right mind would have anything to do with that diseased mess? Who would give it the time of day?

For decades I accepted the premise that given the wickedness of my heart, I couldn’t trust my emotions. I could, however, use my rational mind to read scripture and apply it to my life.. St. Paul’s “be anxious for nothing” and  “get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger,” seemed like affirmation to stay within the safe space of St. James’ charge to “hear the word and do what it says.” The Proverbs 4:23 admonition to “guard your affections” seemed to imply that I needed to be very careful even with tender emotions. 

Then a season of depression and life circumstances eventually compelled me to explore my emotions in a wonderful and ongoing healing journey with counselors and spiritual directors. But my thoughts would still turn at times to God’s commentary on my heart in Jeremiah, describing it in terms that remind me of the bottom of my refrigerator’s produce drawer when I haven’t cleaned it for a few weeks. Gross, slimy, disgusting. 

In my perplexity I did what I’ve learned to do in like situations — bring my struggling questions into prayer. I sensed God inviting me to take a deeper look into Jeremiah 17:9. I’ve found these invitations always give me so much more than I expect. Our God is so generous!

First, I explored the words used in the original Hebrew, then read commentaries and articles about the various words and interpretations of the verse. This is the fruit of that journey. What I learned is I had misunderstood practically everything about this verse. 

Are you ready to discover your heart as God really sees it? Let’s go!

Lev, the heart

First, let’s explore this word for heart, the Hebrew word lev. Hebrew culture doesn’t look at the heart the same way that we do. The heart, or lev isn’t the warm, gushy seat of lovey-dovey feelings. Lev is the will, mind and intent of a person, some also say the consciousness. The mind in Hebrew resides in the heart. (See note below.)

So we’re talking about our mind, will, intentions. In Western culture this encompasses what we often label “rational” or “left brain” and choose as the safer, reliable, and maybe even the best way for us to know God. We practically canonize this part of ourselves and leave the questioning and doubt to those pesky emotions. 

In Hebrew culture and language we must understand that what we’re talking about in Jeremiah 17:9 are not our deepest emotions! Where is the seat of our deepest emotions? That’s coming — we’ll get to that in my next blog post.  

Aqob, deceitful

This word at its most basic means “many footprints” or “heel of the foot.” So, imagine for a moment that you are following a path through a deep forest. After many miles, you get to a clearing. You look to find the way forward and you see hundreds of footprints, leading in many directions. How do you find your way? One way might seem right, but is it, truly?

Anash, desperately wicked 

This word is translated wicked some times, but also means frail, weak, or helplessly sick. It’s used in Jeremiah five times, and most often translated as woeful or weak. 

So, what is sly, confusing, mysterious, frail and helplessly sick? The heart – in Hebrew, our mind, will and intentions. This is what God calls into into question, and in turn, our Western perspective. He calls this part of our selves the most sly, confusing, mysterious, weak, wounded, and woeful thing in all Creation. 

If you’re like me, and tend to rely on my rational/left brain a lot, hearing this might feel a bit like having the step stool knocked out from under you. But take heart, there’s good news!

Who can know the heart? 

First, let’s look at the word for “know,” yada. It’s used for gaining knowledge and also for the intimacy of sexual relations (Adam knew Eve.) So God is asking, who can deeply and intimately comprehend a person’s thoughts, will, and intentions, this place of confusion and mystery, weakness and deep wounding?

God puts this question to us, and of course he knows the answer. But by asking the question he invites us to become more self-aware of this part of ourselves. God’s also reminding us of how impossible it is for us to understand it on our own. To sit, as it were, with our confusion, mystery, weakness, woundedness, and woe. To come to terms with the prospect that perhaps these are the parts of us that we seem to have “under control.”

The Lord who examines the heart

Jehovah speaks in the first person and tells us that he is able to know my lev. The Hebrew word chaqar means to search or examine thoroughly or explore deeply. God doesn’t just look at the surface, he goes deep. To seek out what, exactly? 

On reading the verse and verse 10 following, it really isn’t stated outright what God is searching for, but I think we can assume from God’s character, that what he is seeking has something to do with truth. It reminds me of another verse, that also uses that “heart” word lev. 

The purposes of a person’s heart are deep waters, but one who has insight draws them out.  Proverbs 20:5

The thoughts, will, and intentions are confusing, and we are creatures “weak and wounded by the fall.” But the good news is that we have a loving God who not only knows us, but is also deeply committed to our rescue, transformation, and healing.  

We have our high priest Jesus, who became man and understands our humanity (Her. 4:15.) We have his promised Holy Spirit, who guides us into all truth (John 16:13.) 

We have wise friends, counselors, mentors, coaches, and spiritual directors who can companion with us to draw out what God is inviting us to more deeply understand about ourselves. 

I hope you’ve found encouragement, challenge, and some insights as you’ve read this journey through the heart. 

Tune in next time. You’ll be surprised to find out where our deepest emotions are located, from a Hebraic perspective!

Note: Some translators and scholars also include emotions as part of the Hebrew heart, lev. While some emotions are “felt” in the heart, most scripture using lev speaks to thoughts, will, and intent. As you’ll see from my next post, there is another word that is used for the seat of deep human emotion. Keep in mind that these parts of us are not isolated from one another. Our bodies affect our minds, memories stir emotion, emotions are felt physically, etc. Finally, if we do include emotions, since lev includes the mind, will, and intent, if we “paint it all with the same brush” then we can’t trust those any more than our emotions!

See https://dorshav.typepad.com/hebrewwisdom/2007/07/index.html and https://www.preceptaustin.org/heart_leb and https://www.torahapologetics.com/language–word-studies/hebrew-anatomy-part-1-the-heart for more on this.

The post The Amazing Truth About Our Deceitful Hearts first appeared on living selah.

(This is a true story of my lived experience. Some names and details have been changed to protect the individual’s privacy.)

I found the vintage nativity set wrapped in newspaper, packed in just one cardboard box among many at a garage sale in a McMansion community close to my home. The fifty-something man told me it was the work of years by his parents, the collection taking form a piece at a time via travels through Germany, France, and Italy. That was all the backstory I received, as twenty dollars passed to his hand, and the box passed into mine. 

As I unwrapped each piece in Advent 2019, my mind turned to their journey to my home and how each mute figure held a story. The shepherds — how did they come to join this band of worshippers around the baby Jesus? What was the path of the bowing king, what miles did he travel to find his way to this collection? How many seasons passed until all the figures were present and the scene was complete?

“There is a time for everything, and a season for each purpose…”

In my time in ministry as a spiritual director, the stories of others become a part of how I share the journey with Jesus’s church, what St. Paul called the Body of Christ. In holding the stories, directors take vows to hold hope for those we companion with through the seasons of their lives. I vow to hold hope that there is a purpose to each season. I also trust that while not everything is a gift, there is gift in everything. God holds the gift out to us in courteous invitation, and gives us the choice whether to receive it. 

The same hope and trust I hold for others God invites me to embrace for myself. For naturally, if I did not experience the reality of these two statements in my own life, the hope and trust would be shallow and speculative. So as I began Advent 2019, God invited me on a little journey, a practicum on hope and trust, that started with a noticing.

“There is a time to search” for the object of our desire.

God knows I love and notice metaphor. As I gazed at the nativity, I noticed that Jesus was larger than the other figures in scale. And while I do warm to the metaphorical meaning of a Jesus who one day will be seen by us, large and majestic, clothed in great glory, my artist’s eye noticed the material inconsistency. My heart also longed to see baby Jesus as One who became like one of us, the divine yet very human Jesus, born in a lowly stable.

Two years of intermittent scouring of second hand shops, antique stores, and online markets followed. I held hope that one day, one moment, I would see the right figure to complete the nativity. With delight I finally found the baby Jesus that seemed to be correctly sized. An online auction of a solitary baby Jesus with elegant sculpting of painted clay, wrapped in swaddling linen and laid in a manger. He was perfect, except for a little chip off the nose, which I was confident I could patch and paint to restore the figure to full beauty. 

I made the easy digital exchange and began the expectant waiting process in mid-Advent of 2021. I hoped the Jesus figure would arrive by his birthday, a gift to our home.  

Two days before Christmas I received a message from Emily, the seller, that Jesus had gone missing. With apologies, she refunded my payment and would message me if they found the figure.  My waiting was now woven together with uncertainty and disappointment, and a bit of hope that the figure would be found.

It seems those asked to be part of God’s plan for redemption did a lot of waiting, too. Mary, waiting the normal nine months, until she was “great with child” on the road to Bethlehem. Elizabeth, waiting decades until all hope seemed lost, then becoming pregnant. Zechariah, waiting in silence for the birth of his son. Simeon, waiting for the promised Messiah. 

In my practice I frequently companion with those who are waiting. Waiting for joy to return after loss, for hope to rise up after disappointment, for faith to rekindle, sometimes just for an end to the waiting. When I read a favorite poem, John O’Donohue’s For The Interim Time, and I come to the phrase, “when everything seems withheld,” my heart tightens in empathy. I too, have endured waiting in my life. 

Now I waited, but with not much hope, so I also kept looking, less enthusiastically, I must admit. A few weeks later my hope rekindled when Emily wrote to say that she found the figure and would send it to me at no cost, thankful for my forbearance. So another metaphor, coming in the free gift of Jesus during the time of Epiphany, the time of revealing of the Messiah to the Gentiles. I thanked her most kindly and proceeded to wait again, with happy expectation.

“There is a time to mourn,” because sometimes what we receive is not what we hope for. 

When I opened the mailbox door, my heart sank, as the box I lifted from the darkness was so clearly crushed while on its journey to me. I held a tiny shred of hope that Jesus was intact, but that hope was extinguished entirely when I opened the box and unwrapped the bubble wrap that held a handful of shards. The clay, being greenware and unfired, was particularly fragile, and it broke me to see the fair figure so utterly destroyed. I replaced the bundle in its box and laid it in the glove compartment of our SUV. I couldn’t bear to look at it, and I couldn’t bear to let it go.

“There is a time to hold,” because letting go seems to mean letting go of all hope.

“Jesus in 100 pieces,” as I called it, remained in the glove compartment as winter turned to spring. Somehow I couldn’t throw the shards away, but I couldn’t imagine any other end for this icon of tragedy. Jesus, in all his courteousness, as sister Julian of Norwich would put it, waited with me and for me. 

“There is a time to mend,” because in the mending we find meaning, hope, and healing.

Midway through Lent of 2022, God reminded me of my metaphor in the glove compartment. It was time, He said, to put Jesus back together. God also knows I dearly love a challenge. But I looked at the broken Jesus again and wondered, this time, if I could really mend this catastrophe. My hope was weak and uncertain. I didn’t know where to start the process, so I began as I often do, with research. Glue, but what kind? White. How? A piece at a time, a step at a time. So I began, laying out the pieces and beginning to mend, piece by piece. The result was a figure that barely held its shape, but it was beginning to look a bit like a baby. 

“There is a time to fortify,” because it reminds us that God’s strength unfolds and finds complete expression in our weakness.

I left the Babe on the buffet in our living room while I struggled with the challenge of making him more resilient and supporting the weak structure of clay and white glue. One day early in the summer of 2022 I came upon the idea of pouring something inside the hollow form. It had to be a substance that would not shrink or expand as it cured, as shifts in either direction would spell disaster for the figure. So research again, and I found plaster of Paris was my best option. I mixed, poured, waited again, and held in my hands a heavier and stronger Jesus. 

Next came patching cracks and the original stubbed nose with putty, sanding and smoothing as best I could. It was clear that I couldn’t easily match the original paint, so I opted to start from a clean canvas. I chose the foundation of gold gesso, a metaphorical acknowledgement of the incarnation of God the Son. As I painted the figure and Jesus glowed, I had high hopes for the completion of my project. 

I’ve met with a small group since 2017 each Thursday morning. We often bring in our creative work to show and share. One Thursday during Advent 2022 I brought my work-in-progress and unfolded its journey up until then. The reception was mixed and there were more questions than affirmations. Was it wise for me to do anything other than to throw the broken Jesus away? Why would you take on such a hopeless project? What courage caused you to start? My hope faded with every shake of the head, every sigh. Maybe this was an idiotic undertaking. After all, I could never make it the same as it was. 

“There is a time to be still,” because in stillness we can hear the gentle whisper of God.

The Jesus figure returned to the buffet, and remained there through 2023’s spring and summer. I would look upon the gilded form and again, felt God’s patience with me, even an invitation, to just allow myself to be still in the process. In the quiet the Holy Spirit revealed my own needed healing as an artist who compared her work to others with merciless self-criticism. The season unfolded with reflection, revelation, and growing assurance of being both gifted and loved by my Creator God. While I had (and have) more journeying ahead, hope returned, that “thing with feathers that perches in the soul.” (Emily Dickinson)

One day in early fall of 2023 I gazed upon the golden babe again — with that long, loving gaze we who have a contemplative disposition and calling work to cultivate. As my golden Jesus lay in front of me, I thought of how well Jesus lived his life, that “though he was in the form of God, he did not consider being equal with God something to exploit.” (Phil. 2:6) He carried pure and precious divinity within his body of flesh. Jesus himself referred to his own humble state as the Son of Man, who came to seek and save the lost. 

I knew this season was the “fullness of time” for baby Jesus. God was inviting me to return to the work, for the last time — to paint the manger, the linen, and ultimately, the body and face of Jesus.

Again I researched. First I looked at the original face of the figure. I felt dissatisfied with it. Jesus seemed to have an “above it all” visage, not one who could be “touched with the feelings of our infirmities.” I wanted to see in the Babe the face of the loving Savior that was present with those I accompanied in spiritual companionship and gather with each Sunday. I returned to research, studying how other artists and photographers had captured the face of babies, particularly babies with the similar genetic DNA as the historic Jesus. I found a few that struck a chord with my soul, and they became my guides for the next part of the journey.

I unpacked my paints and fine brushes, set up a work area at the kitchen table, and worked slowly in stages and phases of painting, drying, waiting, gazing, evaluating and retouching. Finally the face shape beneath my hand took on character, the folds of cloth reappeared, and the manger became more real.

“There is a time for love,” because our Creator God is love. We were made from love and for love.

One of the hardest parts in creating is knowing when to stop. I always feel the temptation to return to the work, see if it requires something more, and sometimes add what I later regret. I am getting better at this, and while I did return a few times with the Jesus figure, after one final check I knew it was truly and finally done. I could say it pleased me, just as it was, and nothing I could add was needed. I sealed the paint for the last time. 

I pondered this journey, and cast another long, loving gaze upon the finished child, wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger. The Father again invited me to notice the metaphor and meaning of the broken and healed Jesus figurine.

“There is a time to heal,” and find the gift in the mending of what is broken.

Like most journeys, we walk our own healing path without knowing how it will unfold, but learning to trust more fully the Lover of our souls. The path winds and dips and some seasons seem to take their excruciating time to pass into another, kinder season. Sometimes we are heart-sick as hope is deferred, yet again. Sometimes we lose hope, but God and others continue to hold hope for us. Sometimes unhoped for joys and gifts show up, just when we need them. When we look back, if we receive at least some of the gift God intends for us, we conclude, “I wouldn’t trade that journey for anything” as we also admit, “I’d never want to go through it again.”

The process not only brings healing, it leaves us transfigured, if we allow the Father to do the work. In surrendering, as Mary said, “May it be” and Jesus said, “Not my will,” we agree to let go of what is less than the “very good” the Father offers. It is sometimes a choice made with tiny mustard-seed sized faith, but as Gerald May says, “the purest faith is enacted when all we can choose is to relax our hands or clench them, to turn wordlessly toward or away from God.” This tiny choice is part of the process of being conformed more into the image of his dear Son, the One who lived most truly into what it means to be human. 

My Jesus figure, as it sits within the nativity, is different from the one I expected and is vastly different from the one I received. I look into this Jesus’s face —  broken, mended, tended and in time, healed. The figure still bears a few scars if you look closely. Its healing spanned many seasons as I did the slow and imperfect work of putting back together what was broken. It reminds me of God’s patient love with me and all humanity, the love that always hopes, always perseveres, and never ends. 

“How silently, how silently, the wondrous Gift is given…”

I look at my figure placed among the others and I notice one more thing. In painting this figure, I portrayed Jesus as more real looking, more human, than the rest of the figures around the manger. I look on this final metaphor, and am content. In fact, it delights me and gives me hope.

Merry Christmas

The post The Wondrous Gift: A Story of Healing and Hope first appeared on living selah.

In late winter of this year  I journeyed to a private retreat in the woods of southern Georgia. I came to the retreat with expectations of “getting answers to life’s persistent questions” which at that moment, concerned my future. What will my transition into full time spiritual direction, art, and writing look like? How can it be successful? What would success be? What shall I eat, where shall I live? You know, all those questions that we Gentiles have and seek answers to.

What actually happened was unexpected and beyond expectation. I didn’t meet God, God met me. He invited me into an environment that He elegantly prepared. When I crossed that threshold, I felt embraced. Without even noticing it happened,I let go of my questions, and took a seat at the table with Father, Jesus, and Holy Spirit.

The week was a continuous and intimate conversation with the Trinity, a weaving of walks along new trails, watching sunsets through a bare oak forest, readings, meditation, and daily conversations with Gail, my spiritual director for the retreat.

It was in my third meeting with Gail that a heart changing question showed up as a thread. That thread grew into a motif that held much of what God was beginning to teach me that week.

“Have you ever heard of Theory U?” asked Gail. I hadn’t, and she gave a brief explanation of the method of processing change used by people and organizations. The part of the theory she spoke, and phrases that stayed with me into that night, through the rest of my retreat, and even now, weeks later, was “letting go” and “letting come.”

What needs to be let go so that the new may come?

There’s an opportune time to do things, a right time for everything on the earth:

A right time for birth and another for death,
A right time to plant and another to reap,
A right time to kill and another to heal,
A right time to destroy and another to construct,
A right time to cry and another to laugh,
A right time to lament and another to cheer,
A right time to make love and another to abstain,
A right time to embrace and another to part,
A right time to search and another to count your losses,
A right time to hold on and another to let go,
A right time to rip out and another to mend,
A right time to shut up and another to speak up,
A right time to love and another to hate,
A right time to wage war and another to make peace.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8, The Message

“Letting Go” seems to be big in many circles these days. 99 items in the kitchen, 15 personal possessions, tiny homes, no home. Minimalism has become a near religion for some, with many practicing the rite of de-materializing for a variety of reasons.

But this “letting go” and “letting come,” drop and rise, and together they feel less like ritual and more like a natural flow and a divine invitation. To allow something new to come, swelling and full into my life, what was in the way?

The fist day of my retreat I began to see how God was helping me notice my perfectionism, my need to get it right at least 80% of the time (less than that, and I label it EPIC FAIL.) It was a state of mind and heart tied to fear and the illusion of control. My perfectionism also made me feel responsible for others and their choices. All these went on the left side of my “U”, the letting go.

On the right side I listed what I sensed God inviting me into – the new. Below is my “U” for this retreat and season. In the midst was God walking with me — counseling, courting, and encouraging me. Allow the new to come and the old to drop away.

It’s been some weeks since I created my “U” and so much has changed in my life in little and big ways. A global pandemic is forcing loss of things, experiences, and people I’d counted on to always be there. Rather than letting go, much is denied me, Like you, I’m wondering when life will get back to normal, or perhaps, what the new normal will be.

In this time between, though, there is an invitation. What have I lost that I should allow to stay lost or give up as lost? What may return to my life, that I might be better not to allow back in, but to let go so that the new may come?

In this season, what does your “U” look like?

To allow the new that God has invited to come into your life, what is in the way?

What needs to be let go of so that the new may come?

The post Letting Go And Letting Come first appeared on living selah.

Years ago, when my independent church started noticing that there was more to the liturgical calendar than Easter and Christmas, I started noticing Lent. But I confess, I am a sometime Lent observer, and not a very consistent one.

Ash Wednesday came and went this year as a notation in my calendar. Lent began for my brothers and sisters. It began for me, too, but I didn’t observe it. I’ve come late to Lent, and might not have come at all, but for God’s invitation via a little virus that’s making big news.

I’m guessing like me, you’ve joined many in the social distancing that has been strongly advised by leaders of each country. Church is canceled and every foray away into society comes with the implied question of whether this trip is worth the health, perhaps life of myself or another. Perhaps you’re one of those who are working in the midst of distancing, helping those who need groceries, healthcare, or another essential service.

I’m spending most of my days with my sister, who is working from home, with the company of our pets. Some of my friends live alone. Some friends are isolated with family, but even with family, the loss of the greater community can feel lonely. My extrovert friends are finding this time especially difficult.

As an introvert, this should feel easier, I say. It’s one thing to choose the desert, and another to be driven into the spaces of isolation.

So Lent is late for me this year, and is defined by the letting go of the communion I enjoy in physical community. I miss meeting in shared space, hearing the chatter and laughter, finding and giving shoulders to cry on, hugs and kisses.

In quiet and loneliness I endure, until I notice that it is the Spirit leading me into the wilderness.

For me. Rublev’s icon of the Trinity invariably comes to mind, and the image you see above.

The Godhead seated in unity and mutual giving invites me to join their communion. I begin to hear the conversation, scattered with laughter and saturated with love, peace, and goodwill. And I’m welcomed.

It’s wonderful to know that a God who is relationship and needs nothing also invites me to pull up a chair at the table.

Listen for the leading. You are invited to the table. Welcome.

Pull up a chair and enjoy the community that is often most richly enjoyed in solitude.

The post Late To Lent first appeared on living selah.

Listen to my words, Lord, consider my lament.
Hear my cry for help, my King and my God, for to you I pray.

In the morning, Lord, you hear my voice; in the morning I lay my requests before you and wait expectantly.

. (Psalm 5:3 NIV)

Have you ever prayed for deliverance? I mean, prayed so hard, heart wide open, soul laid bare before God, crying out for a way out?

And you wait. The ground stays hard and frozen. The high waters stay high and you’re still drowning.
You have put me in the lowest pit,
in the darkest depths.

Your wrath lies heavily on me;
you have overwhelmed me with all your waves.[d]
You have taken from me my closest friends
and have made me repulsive to them.
I am confined and cannot escape;
my eyes are dim with grief.

It seems, nothing happens. Like Heman, the Ezrahite writer of Psalm 88. A disturbing psalm, because it has no “I trusted God and God delivered me” kicker at the end.

​When this happens, I ask questions, usually, before I give up. Didn’t I pray hard enough? Wasn’t my heart open enough? Was my laid bare soul un-noticed by God?

When I found myself in a pit of despair recently, I took a breath and allowed a loving look in the mirror of my soul. What I saw was that I was expecting something, a particular thing, to happen. I let that become expectations – how I would answer the prayer I’d prayed.

So I began to see there’s a difference between praying with expectation and praying with expectations. It’s the difference between telling God what’s good for me and knowing God has promised good to me.

What if I prayed that same prayer, but afterward, kept my eyes wide open? Instead of looking for my expectations, to look with expectation. What would I notice then? Perhaps some small thing that didn’t match my expectations, so I cast it aside.

When I pray for deliverance and God answers with the unexpected, can I trust Him and explore?

Moving away from expectations and toward expectation may not reveal the answer, but moving toward it may reveal something in me.

I forget that God’s ways are not my ways.

The post Praying With Expectation And Praying With Expectations first appeared on living selah.

God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. (Romans 5:8 NIV)

We love because he first loved us. (1 John 4:19 NIV)

Let me share an amazing truth about me. One that blows me away when I take the time it deserves to contemplate.

First, some confession. There are parts of me that I don’t like, and I consider unloveable. They are the parts that I generally keep hidden to all but the safest friends.

Do you have parts like this, that you hide? Hidden like the joint that boyfriend gave you at your 15th birthday party. Inside a sock in a shoe box at the top of your closet. You’d be mortified if anyone found it, but that part feels more stuck to you than gum on your shoe on a hot summer day.

When I read scripture, I see that God sees these parts differently than I do. And God loves them.

I am thoroughly lovable. Right now, just as I am. God loves all of my parts. There is nothing about my true self that God cannot heal and include in His redemptive plan. A plan that is vast and powered by grace.

This is truth. And it’s not just for me, it’s for you, too.

You are thoroughly lovable. Right now, just as you are. God loves all of your parts. There is nothing about your true self that God cannot heal and include in His redemptive plan. A plan that is vast and powered by grace.

Can you bravely bring that box out of the closet? Can you open it and ask God to give you a loving and holy perspective on what’s inside?

The post When Parts of Who I Am Feel Unlovable first appeared on living selah.

We had hoped he was the one… (Luke 24:21 NIV)

At my best, what I truly desire is for more of my brothers and sisters to know God and experience God’s grace (that is, be aware of God’s active love toward them and within the world.) When I’m in this calm and wide open spaciousness, I can wholeheartedly, and quite naturally say, “God must increase and I must decrease.”

Then disappointment comes and my world shrinks to a space that only has room for one – my ego.

“I had hoped…”

Disappointment shrinks my world and dissolves that spaciousness.

Disappoint. From Old French, to be deprived of an office or position, or to be removed from office.

I thought I was in control, but I’m not!

I was running the ship, and suddenly, I’m not!

The problem with small spaces, is that they are often dark, too. I come to God with no questions, but only commands shouted into the darkness, fueled by my insecurity and fears. Like the theif on the cross, like the Enemy of my soul, I say –

If you are the Son of God, get me out of this place! (thief)

If you are the Messiah, turn these stones into bread! (satan)

What if I chose, like John, Paul, and the Samaritan woman, not to command, but to question?

Are you the one? (John)

Who are you, Lord? (Paul)

Where should we worship? (Samaritan woman)

God knows I will experience disappointment, those times where I thought I was something, or some place, but realize I’m not there or not all that.

When it happens, what takes the focus? Does my vision narrow, and do I start defining God according to my circumstances?

Or do I look to God to define and interpret my circumstances, to broaden and align my vision and return me to that spaciousness? To bring perspective?

Perspective is a concept every artist learns early. It’s a basic concept that enables the artist to create on a piece of paper the impression of viewing objects from a defined point. If you get your perspective wrong, you have the sense that the object is too big or too small, or shaped oddly because the angles don’t align correctly.

Perspective: a point of view. Perspective is everything in times of disappointment. Perspective brings what I’m looking at into alignment. Objects are the size they should be, I am the size I should be, and God is magnificently larger than everything.

This is the bright side of disappointment.

At my best, I also desire that I would know God and experience God’s grace. That same calm and wide open spaciousness is laid before me, as a table in the presence of my “inner enemies” — fear, dread, and the confinement of disappointment.

In that space I can ask questions, and take time to look long and lovingly at that small space of disappointment within the larger landscape of God’s love. And quite naturally say, “God must increase and I must decrease.”

The post Is There A Bright Side To Disappointment? first appeared on living selah.

Who despised the day when little things began to happen? They will be delighted when they see the plumb line in Zerubbabel’s hand. (Zechariah 4:10 GW)

August 1 started a 30 day challenge that I’m committing to, to create every day. I don’t do challenges well because at some point, a day will dawn and I’ll get stuck, and challenge changes shape. It morphs into obligation and fear, bringing procrastination along for the ride.

“I can’t, God.”

When I don’t have even enough to hope in an “anything could happen,” God says, “Just start.”

When I start the day knowing I need to create, but not knowing whether anything I create will be worth the time I took to create it, God says, “Just start.”

When those voices ask me who I think I am to be creating or think that I can make anything good, God says, “Just start.”

Sometimes that little thing, that seems even smaller than a mustard tree seed of faith, is all I have. And Jesus says, “It is enough.”

I weigh what Jesus said about mustard tree seed faith against what Matthew said about Jesus’s own family and hometown friends.

And he did not do many miracles there because of their lack of faith. (Matthew 13:58 NIV)

Unbelief. Doubting. Not believing it could possibly be true. Hesitation.

God says, “Just start.”

So I start, not knowing.

I start, not believing in myself, but in some One outside myself, that will take that tiny thing, smaller than a mustard tree seed, and do something with it.

It is the Lord’s work, and it is marvelous to behold.

And there is rejoicing in heaven over this one who is changing her mind, this sinner who thought she was alone and turned to see God, arms open, smiling and yelling over his shoulder to get ready to have a party.

The post Sometimes Just Starting Starts A Party In Heaven first appeared on living selah.

A friend recently requested prayer on his blog, that he would be in the “center of God’s will.” I smile when I hear that phrase, because it brings to mind some target-shaped center of God’s will. Or a narrow mountain trail with steep drop offs to either side.

For a long time in my Christian journey, I thought that there was some “sweet spot” of God’s will, and once I found that “center” or remained on that “path”, all would be well and life would go on swimmingly. My life hasn’t really born that out, and every time I approach finding God’s will with those images, I am left frustrated and more confused than ever.

Scripture gives no black-and-white blueprint for finding God’s will or walking in it, which explains why there are so very many Christian books and videos on the subject.

The Bible provides some passages…

Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus. 1 Thessalonians 5:18 NIV

It is God’s will that you should be sanctified: that you should avoid sexual immorality 1 Thessalonians 4:3a NIV

Now may the God of peace…equip you with everything good for doing his will Hebrews 13:20-21 NIV

Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the Lord’s will is. Ephesians 5:17 NIV

Yes, I can walk in the spirit of those verses, but do I buy that house? Marry that person? Take that job?

I want a map to the destination with all the stops clearly marked. Or a periscope that lets me see above the fog of my choices. And this isn’t because I lack faith. I do, sometimes. But it’s because I want to please God so badly.

God has never given me a map, blueprint, or periscope, and at 50+ years, I’ve stopped looking for them. I think I see God smile as I typed that, because he knows I still go back to the blueprint idea when I feel uncertain and afraid.

God gives me life with himself and the agency and the desire to discern God’s activity and be a part of it. The times I feel God’s greatest pleasure are when I am living in those truths.

Did you know that often the word that is used for God’s will in scripture is better translated “longing” or “heart’s desire”?

So if I sit in the thought of being in the center of God’s longing, what does that mean?

The first thing I notice is that my position at the center is more about awareness of being at the center of God’s longing than about me finding and moving into some target-shaped space. This doesn’t mean that I am to be self-centered or think of myself at the center of God’s universe.

It’s an awareness that God knows me and God’s loving thoughts, emotions, and longings are toward me always, as they are toward all of creation. I don’t have to “find” that longing, I’m already smack-dab in it.

It also doesn’t mean my choices don’t matter. They, do, but what matters most is that God is pleased that I want to please him.  God loves that I love him and care about how my choices intersect with what he desires for me and this world. He promises to to those who love him and hear his call to work all things (including my choices) together for good.

I consider my life choices for the last two years, and how I have felt more aware of being centered in the longing of God for me. In his longing for me to experience “life to the full”. In living out how he saw me when he first thought me up in eternity past.

For example:

• In late 2014 I became keenly aware of my need for a better understanding of the process of discernment. I also began to have a persistent vision and longing to use my creative gifting to spiritually encourage and companion with others.

• My journey into counseling brought the idea of spiritual direction and formation into my awareness. My counselor thought I should look at spiritual direction, in addition to life coaching and counseling as possible second careers. She also coached me through my artistic perfectionism.

• While still in discernment on my career path, in early 2016 God led me to a website promoting a spiritual formation workshop — on discernment. My teacher was a former priest who spent 5 years discerning his call into a marriage relationship.

• While I was at that workshop my understanding of discernment grew and expanded. I also found that many at the workshop were either spiritual directors or in training to become directors. I met a friend by way of a displaced hip that I endured the first two days of the workshop (she helped me find places to store my cold compresses). She was in training to be a spiritual director at a program that was 30 minutes from my home.

• I met through a mutual friend another graduate of the same program. We’ve become friends and meet weekly for bible journaling. She answered a multitude of questions and encouraged me to attend orientation and pray about committing to the 3 year program.

• I attended orientation for the training program, and have completed the first year, which focuses on discernment of calling. I’m now in my second year, and will begin companioning with directees this year.

• At the beginning of entering the program I met my current spiritual director, and she has spoken prophetically about how God is using my creative gifting.

I’d really like to say that I had a lot to do with each of these steps along the way, each of which felt to be in the center of God’s longing for me. When each step brightened before me, I felt the pleasure of God and being at the center of God’s heart’s desire.

When I looked back, I saw how God strung each circumstance together in a journey that I’m still on, and don’t see beyond a few steps. I have hopes, anticipations, and goals, but they seem to be taking a back seat to remaining aware of God’s movement.

It all feels marvelous and miraculous, and not because I did much more than prayer and taking time to be aware of what God was already saying and doing.

The times I’ve felt most at the center have felt like I was being carried along with the current while doing a bit of swimming myself. But the current and the water was keeping me afloat more than my swimming was. That thought keeps me grounded or “humble” (the root of that word is humus — ground, by the way!)

Finally, I have realized through experience is that in this current, while it is centered in God’s longing for me, is not always smooth, and the course is certainly taking me places that I would never have chosen for myself. I’m noticing that the journey to “find God’s will” through discernment is more about being still and listening for God’s voice and activity and moving toward that, than striking out on my own, creating a blueprint, and asking God to bless it, no matter how lofty or noble the plan.

How about you?

Have these reflections on God’s will and discernment brought some new awareness to you?

How do you feel when you sit with the idea that you, at this moment, are at the center of God’s longing?

Are you noticing where God is moving, right now, near you? Will you move toward that?

The post Is There A Center To God’s Will? first appeared on living selah.

The Sovereign Lord, the Holy One of Israel, says to the people, “Come back and quietly trust in me. Then you will be strong and secure.” Isaiah 30:15 GNT

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. 7 And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:6-7 NIV

Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom. Viktor Frankl

Someone posted on social media today a paraphrase of the quote by Vicktor Frankl, that between action and reaction there is a space. I found his original quote and I like the idea of stimulus and response, because it includes action/reaction, but is more expansive.

Between whatever comes into our lives, for good or ill (as we perceive those), and our response, there is a space. I would go further to say that what we do in that space, or perhaps, what we allow to be done in us in that space, is where our growth and freedom has its genesis.

The road to my home is no longer a quiet, secluded, lane leading to our peaceful corner of the Wekiva wilderness. Construction in our neighborhood removed cherished trees and displaced wildlife. Our poor squirrel population didn’t know what to do, and searched vainly for food in the bare ground. More personally, the loss of the trees now makes our home clearly visible from the highway to our south.

The stimulus of this upheaval created a scarred and unfriendly space, and my first instinct was to respond with anxiety, anger, and fear. I dreamed that there was a mighty crane parked in my yard. My blood pressure soared for days.

Really, all those are very natural responses, and when they happened I could perceive no space between them and the stimulus.

Since we consider and look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen; for the things that are visible are temporal (brief and fleeting), but the things that are invisible are deathless and everlasting. 2 Corinthians 4:18 AMPC

The Spirit reminds me that even though I rushed and didn’t see the space between stimulus and response, it was still there, more real and eternal than what I could see out my home’s doors and windows.

What’s more, this ignored and invisible space is something I can return to, even when I rush to a response. God is patient and lets us defy the bounds of space and time in this way, it seems.

A few days after the beginning of construction I returned to that space between stimulus and response. I recalled how I felt when all I knew and trusted about the serenity of my home was so violently ripped away. The Spirit gently said, “This is how so many of my children live every day” and my heart ripped. I saw families running from their homes and returning to find rubble where there once was walls and laughter, kitchens and conversations, beds and bed-time stories. I saw orphans sitting in streets.

In the space my eyes teared and my heart ached in a new and tender way for what was happening in places that seemed very far away, but now feel much closer, because my heart has moved closer to them.

I tell God that I don’t compare my situation with theirs (comparison is hardly ever profitable), but I am thankful for this small crack in my heart where God’s heart and light floods in. I pray for them with new awareness and they have become closer and real to me as brothers and sisters.

Portrait of Refugee, Paris 2009 (Wikimedia Commons)

What is the stimulus that has entered your life, for good or ill (in your perception)?

If you haven’t responded yet, can you sit for awhile, and notice what God may be telling you in the space? The space between stimulus and response is where our growth and freedom has its genesis.

If you, like me, have rushed to response without perceiving the space, it’s not too late. Take a moment and return to when you first heard the news, or felt the pain, or your heart leapt. Remember that God is not restricted by space and time, and will be there when you turn and consider, ready to teach you, love you, and lead you.

The space between stimulus and response is unseen, but real, and the things which are unseen are eternally important and valuable.

The post The Space Between Action And Reaction first appeared on living selah.

Christ has set us free to live a free life. So take your stand! Never again let anyone put a harness of slavery on you. Galatians 5:1 MSG

There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. Galatians 3:28 NIV

 I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, then you will produce much fruit. Without me, you can’t do anything. John 15:5 CEB

As a single living in the evangelical complementarian culture which venerated marriage, “biblical” gender roles and having children, singleness was often viewed by me and my single friends as the maiden waiting room that we endured until we got the gold ring of marriage. When one of my friends married, I felt like one of the nuns in The Sound of Music, stuck behind the gate and living a “less than” life.

I also had a complex relationship with complementarian marriage, as something inside me knew that it was attractive in some ways for some reasons (infantilizing and evading responsibility as a “submissive” wife) and repellent for other reasons (giving up my sense of self and personal agency and embracing patriarchy).

All my relationships as a single were grounded in mutuality, and felt more “right” than a marriage with hierarchy. Of course, I was often told in books and sermons that this was because my “flesh” was selfish and hated authority. The sticker is that there was a bit of truth in those statements. In honesty, I do struggle with authority, as does pretty much every one at some time, male or female.

In any relationship there is a dying to self, a dying to flesh. What I didn’t see for too long is that I was doing that in the relationships I already had. My sister and I shared a home where there I learned about submitting to the other in love, many times because my sister so beautifully lived this out. I died to self the night I helped care for a dying friend, when I became a safe place for another friend to share her story of childhood sexual abuse, and each time I renounced a life choice for the sake of relationship and community. And yet the church often told me in plain words and inference, from pulpit and in community, that I was single because I was selfish.

Sometime in my 40s everything started shifting for me. It started with a questioning of living half of my adult life waiting for something that was less possible each day, but was the nexus around which I was arranging and managing large parts of my life. It grew with an unquenchable desire to find meaning for a life that would be lived in community, but not with husband and family.

The watershed moment was when I began reading a book I’d picked up to explore what God means for women — Guardian Angel by Skip Moen. I read about Katherine Bushnell’s discovery of Pagnino’s translation of teshuqah to “desire” and instead of “turning” and how that translation marked a turning point in the interpretation of Genesis 3:16 (and one that future translators would rarely question). Could it be that this verse talked not about a punishment on Eve and her daughters to be forever under Adam and his sons, but instead, “about Eve turning away from God and toward her husband as the center of her life”? The scales began to fall. If I could have been misled by a 16th century monk about this verse – one that is a linch pin for the complementarian view – what else was going on?

My season of questioning began — of deeper Berean examination of interpretation of the handful of Bible verses that form the foundation of the complementarian view. I studied alternate interpretations and the scholarship behind them. I looked at each interpretation with how it compared with the whole of scripture and the teachings and life of Jesus. What I found broke down the structure of my complementarian house, including it’s hope chest of marriage, but it left the one sure foundation, which is Christ.

This brought me to where I am now, an evolving egalitarian. I no longer have a love/hate relationship with marriage. I see it as one choice, but not the gold standard. If I were to marry I would seek the same mutuality of submission and love that I already have experienced in relationships. I still think marriage would be a wonderful journey, but it is likely not in my journey, and my journey is not less for its lack, just different than others. I remind myself that my Savior and the “author and perfecter” of my faith chose to live as a single person in this world.

After moving toward egalitarianism, I have discovered more of my gifts through exploration in ministry and affirmation of my brothers and sisters in Christ. I have led men and women in teaching, prayer, and worship. I’ve served the Eucharist. I’ve had my ears anointed with oil as I entered training for spiritual direction. I don’t fear moving into any area of ministry or leadership that I once considered “male territory”. More importantly, I don’t censor my encouragement of other women who are exploring any ministry that they feel led of the Spirit to pursue.

I am convinced that all the gifts, callings, and ministries of the Holy Spirit are gender neutral, given as the Spirit wills, not men.
Share on X

There are still days and moments when I feel the gates in front of me, but that isn’t because God put them there, but the traditions of humans. Sadly, many of those moments happen among the community of Christ. But where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty, and the Spirit reminds me of this when I stop to listen.

The post Embracing The Full Freedom Of Christ As A Single Woman first appeared on living selah.

Facebook reminded me of this little play on Colossians 3:12 today — from 6 years ago! Still love that God is most delighted when I wear the same clothes every day, the ones God designed for me to wear.

Reminds me, too, of when kids dress like their parents — either in their parent’s clothes or in mini versions of their parent’s outfits. The gift that child makes to their parent by expressing that desire to look like the parent, in their small and immature way. It’s precious to see, so I wonder if God finds it precious, too?

The post Wear The Same Clothes Everyday first appeared on living selah.

To see a World in a Grain of Sand And a Heaven in a Wild Flower Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand And Eternity in an hour from “Auguries of Innocence” by William Blake

The secret things belong to the Lord our God, but the things revealed belong to us and to our children forever, that we may follow all the words of this law. Deuteronomy 29:29 NIV

The secret things, I believe, include how sovereignty and free will can exist together and both be true, and the problem of pain and suffering.

I don’t want to sound glib, because I’m not being glib.

I have struggled in my own dark night of the soul. I’ve wrestled with big questions.  

If the flap of a butterfly wing can affect weather oceans away, how do my choices, good and bad, fit into the Great Plan?

What does God’s will mean, and can a human really grasp it?

And the big and aching questions. Can I still believe in God’s goodness after seeing the suffering and death of one dearly loved…who I have no confidence embraced Jesus before breathing her last?

I suppose what it comes down to for me is that I’d rather live into a belief that God is good and incomprehensible, than bad and comprehensible. If he is not what he claims to be, we are of all people most miserable.

I suppose one more thing could be said. If things are not as we believe — if what we believe is, as the character Puddleglum in C.S. Lewis’s “The Silver Chair” says, only a dreamed up world and a play-game, it is also, as he says, a world that licks the “real world hollow.”

I’m also choosing to be, “‘on Aslan’s side even if there isn’t any Aslan to lead it.” Or as Peter said, “Lord, to whom shall we go? Only you have the words of life.” (John 6:68 NIV)

The post Auguries and Destinies first appeared on living selah.

Forgetting, deleting, redoing, undoing.

I wrote this post two nights ago, while I was meditating on all I think about, and the thoughts I don’t write down, and that get lost in the mist of my conscious mind. Not wanting to forget my meditations on that subject, I wrote them down here. I thought they were pretty good, too.

Then this morning I hit the wrong button, and the words were gone — forever.

Or were they?

Well, i remembered a few.

Before a word is on my tongue you, LORD, know it completely. Psalm 139:4 NIV

He remembers them all.

We have thousands of thoughts in a day. I personally do a lot of meditating and thinking, doing the action of logizomai — the Greek word that means to ponder, consider, reckon, suppose. The contemplative comes naturally to me. Many times I’ve practically composed a full blog post in my head and very often I’m too busy and/or lazy (odd how those things can be happening at the same time!) to write these thoughts down, and that genesis of an idea, be it good, mundane, or bad, left to itself, wanders away and gets lost in the shuffle of my brain. The bad and mundane doesn’t bother me, but I am sad that I’m such a poor steward of the good.

The comfort and grace is that God knows my thoughts before they hit my tongue or the end of my pen.

He remembers them all.

So I think that one day when we’re sitting together on a hill, watching a sunset, that he will lean toward me and remind me of one or two of the good ones.

The post When I forget, God Remembers first appeared on living selah.

Things can get easily shattered in the dark. Precious things, like our hearts. We grope and wonder what is out there, and if it could possibly be good. When we reach out and touch something that’s familiar, it comforts us with just the knowing that we’ve found a familiar thing.

How much more, when we reach out and find that God is there, when it’s dark and our hearts are shattered. Knowing that not only is he there, but that he promises to deliver us — we whose spirits are crushed.

The post When Your Heart Is Shattered, God Is Right There first appeared on living selah.