Sweet Sleep

What does sleep have to do with trust? I'm still not sure, but one thing I do know is that shortly after I chose Trust as my One Word 365 word, my daughter started waking up at odd times of the night for no reason. It wasn't every night. It wasn't always a long interruption to my sleep pattern, but it was jarring. She is not quite two and a half - her sleep patterns have been consistent for a while now - but lately I find I go to bed not knowing if I will wake up to a cry or an alarm.

For the past year I have lived in constant fear of my daughter waking up sick. I would go to bed early to get as much sleep as I could. Relationships and business were being affected. I was trapped in a fear cycle that was formed during two days of her life. Since January 1, as I have found myself up in the middle of the night with a healthy child, I have started praising God more. I realize, as I pray over what this has to do with trusting God, that if I trust God then that means I trust He has a greater plan to this new rhythm we find ourselves in. I fall asleep praying that no matter what I will be given the strength, love, compassion, and wisdom to face each moment as it is laid before me. I trust that the Lord will continue to answer that prayer.

I don't know why God didn't choose to give Mothers the gift of not needing any sleep. Think of the possibilities!! But if I were to speculate, at least for this mama, my guess would be that this dependence we have on sleep should be superseded by a dependence on someone greater. The Giver of sleep and children and love and compassion and time and life itself. If I trust Him then I must believe that every day and every moment I am given is worth something more than I can ever imagine. Even the mundane can contain glimpses of the divine.

Proverbs 3 tells us that wisdom and understanding are desirable to have. And when you do, this is one result: "When you lie down, you will not be afraid; When you lie down, your sleep will be sweet" (v. 24). There is nothing to fear when the Lord is the One guiding and protecting you. So I lay my head down now in trust and thankful for the promise of sweet sleep.

This post is a part of a One Word 365 community, Trusting Tuesdays! Have your own One Word? Link up to your most recent post every third Tuesday of the month!

Acting on Trust

I am broken. Shards of my life, once contained, feel scattered.

I feel an ember glowing hotter and hotter in my soul. A passion, a desire to do and serve, share and encourage. At the same time there is something that lurks and threatens: "of what use is a broken vessel?" This question I ask myself is the wrong question. I must act in faithfulness. If I do not act in faithfulness then surely that is what I will be: a worthless vessel, broken beyond repair. In reality, however, I am being remade.

I will never mend, never live my purpose if I am always sitting and staring at what I perceive to be the broken shards of my life rather than stumbling along the straight and narrow, at times on my knees, my hands groping for the boundaries, to be sure I am still on the path, every once and a while glimpsing the light shining before me, but more often than not my eyes closed against all that I fear seeing.

But in keeping my eyes closed, I also miss the good. I also miss the light. I also miss the beauty around me. I must peek. I have to watch the step before me, the next step, illuminated by the lamp of God's Word, see where to place my foot. My life is imbedded in the Soul of the Creator God. He cares for me. He is with me. I can do nothing apart from Him. Why would I want to?

So I must trust the Potter, my God. Trust that He is faithful. Trust that He is with me. Trust that He sees me. Trust that He loves me as I am. Trust that He is making me new. Trust that He HAS made me new. Trust that the Master Potter can do more with shards of broken pottery than with a leaky vessel.

This post is a part of a One Word 365 community, Trusting Tuesdays! Have your own One Word? Link up to your most recent post every third Tuesday of the month!

Trust

Madeleine L'Engle wrote that she would pray the Jesus prayer when she found her mind wandering during prayer, "Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me, a sinner." I once adopted that. My mind wanders a lot, of this I am aware. What happened so gradually over the course of my life that I didn't notice is that my entire focus wandered. Not just my thoughts during prayer or worship. Not just my thoughts watching a movie or during a boring conversation. My entire focus has wandered off. What I see before my eyes now is a big, fat, ugly word.

It's so big and obvious that I can't see much else. I walk in its shadow. I filter most of what I do through it, envisioning disaster, sorrow, pain. So when I stumbled upon this idea of focusing on one word every day for a year through One Word 365, I was instantly intrigued. I have friends preparing to read through the Bible this year. I need to start a little smaller. One word. But which word? There are many I have thought of. But one stands out because in order to Grieve, Live, Embrace, Grow, Love, I must Trust.

So here is a new word to focus on. A new truth to filter everything through. The filter of trust.

The Lord is my strength. (Ex 15:2)
Rest is found in Christ. (Mt 11:28)
Unless we go through Christ, we cannot go to the Father. (Jn14:6)
Straight are the paths He lays before me. (Pr 3:6)
Today is the only day I have. (Jms 4:13-17)

I must trust that the Lord's ways are good. I must trust in His sovereignty. I must trust that He is at work in me "both to will and to work for His good pleasure" (Philippians 2:13). This used to be a fairly easy thing for me to understand. I cannot go back to who I once was, but I can continue on into the future, each day becoming more the woman God intends for me to be. Resting in His faithfulness, goodness, strength. Glorifying Him and enjoying Him forever (Westminster Shorter Catechism #1). Thankful (another great word) for His Grace, Mercy, Love, Presence.

A new journey. A new beginning. Nothing's really changing. Just my focus.

Reasons for Thanks-Giving

A little over two weeks ago I left the home of my mentor, Elaine. I have posted a little about her on my photography blog. We had just spent 45 minutes or so re-reading Psalms we have memorized together, sharing our latest news, and praying. I told her a deep fear of mine. A fear that has resulted in a loss. Not a physical loss, but the loss of a good desire for something I have always wanted. Just before I left her home, Elaine reminded me that, like David, we are allowed to "pour out [our] complaint before [the Lord]" (Psalm 142) and to ask, seek, knock. So I did.

On my way home I cried out to the Lord with everything that is in me. I confessed. I wept. I have eaten of the fruit and seen my nakedness, the fear that grips my soul and suffocates my trust. But though God is a God of justice, He is also a God of mercy. He sent His Son to die for my abundant sins. I am covered by Christ's sacrifice. I am new. I have turned my face and focused on the fear, the anxiety, the unknown, but I need to look to Christ, look "full in His wondrous face." I am loved with an everlasting love. I must acknowledge my dependence on God. Without Him I am nothing. I have nothing.

So in my car, driving home, tears pouring down my face, I praised Him.

"I have no breath without Your sovereignty.

I have no health with Your healing.
I have no husband without Your grace.
I have no daughter without Your opening.
I have no job without Your blessing.
I have no family without Your design.
I have no friends without Your gifting.
I have no food without Your provision.
I have no talent without Your giving.
I have no salvation without Your mercy."

Do you struggle finding a reason to give thanks this Thanksgiving? I know I often forget the list above. The truth that our God sees us, hears us, provides for us, cares for us somehow gets lost in dailyness of life. So here is a place to start:

Be thankful for that God. The God of justice and mercy.
Be thankful for the people around you. Find ways to show them the grace you are shown.
And be thankful for you as you are today. You will continue to change and grow and that is good. But today you are who you are and you are designed, loved, significant.

I am an archaeologist

"I know them," Carre pipes up. We all insist she sing. "OK, but you all have to sing with me," she says, sitting up straight and clearing her throat.

"High on a hill stood a lonely goat herd," and thus it began with her clear voice. It had started earlier in the evening, actually, when we all started singing "Sound of Music," and I did what I always do, I got the words mixed up and the most surprising thing happened: someone noticed.

"Those aren't the right words," Katelyn said in her matter-of-fact tone. "I am highly offended."

But it wasn't until all of our voices yodeled with gusto that we fully understood - on our last night together - that we were kindred spirits.

Individual, beautiful voices blending together to create a unified, harmonized, confident song. We laughed about the ironies of "16 Going On 17" and Katelyn offered a beautiful reenactment of Maria's "When the dog bites" moment after she is told by the Captain, in no uncertain terms, that his children need NO play clothes. We came undone, relived favorite moments, struggled to remember together.

That is it, that is where life needs to be lived: TOGETHER. In Alaska, at the First Annual Harvester Island Workshop, I watched as strangers became friends, friends became sisters, and stories were not simply shared but LIVED. That is the beauty and magic of the written word, the shared story. We look back at our lives, our experiences, we relive and examine, we become excavators.

"I always wanted to be an archaeologist," I chime during a session. "Now you are," Katelyn says. "An archaeologist of the soul."

And as we begin to fully see from which we came, we begin to understand who we really are NOW and where our paths are leading us. But the best part is this: we do not keep it to ourselves. We share, we bleed onto the page for others to be able to recognize their own wounds and healing. When we become vulnerable with others and encourage and are encouraged, that is when the church is fully realized, that is when we become all that we are. We share our experiences in the moment or afterward, shine the spotlight on God or allow others to show us when we cannot see. Our voices blend together and become more as a choir than they could ever be apart.

When we live our lives without each other, it allows for room to fester in lies and close our hearts off to warmth, truth, friendship. We wonder if we are important. We wonder if we are the only ones to ever...you fill in the blank.

"Me too!" we hear when we share our pain, our joy, our fears, our dreams. We are not alone.

"Carey?" Leslie turns to me, smile warm, eyes attentive. "OK," I say, "mine's kind of random." Or the next time, "I really don't know how to tell this story."

We all did it, made it clear that what we have to share isn't perfect; "please don't judge me," we want to say. But here's the kicker - we were all sitting there writing at the same time. No polishing allowed. Why was an explanation needed? We were nervous. We weren't sure we were worthy.

"I was embarrassed to send in anything I had written." I overheard my roommate share this with my brother one day. I found out later this beautiful writer has a three book contract.

We are never fully "there" - the name in print gives us no more confidence than the ten minutes of free writing. We are, all of us, baring our souls, opening our wounds for the world to see. Sometimes the wound is fairly clean, other times it is not, but always it needs healing. The salve of fellowship, a walk in the fresh air, the suffocating hug of the banya, the slap of an ocean wind, the shower of rainbows reminding us this storm may scare and hurt, steal and destroy, but not permanently. There is the promise of hope, redemption, and healing. And the promise moves us to share.

"These are a few of my favorite things."