Thursday, October 24, 2013

How blessed am I?


     An attitude of gratitude. 
     I have a habit of repeating those four words. A lot. 
     They aren't my words. In fact, I don't know whose words those are. They sure do resemble some of God's words. "Give thanks in EVERYTHING," are words from His book. Paul writes about trials and sorrow being considered pure joy...because contentment is found in Christ alone. 
     I throw these words around like I own them: "Let's start every prayer, every day, every thought with an attitude of gratitude." I'm not saying them for teen girls or my friends or my family. 
     I. Am. Saying them. For. ME. 
     That's right. I'm selfish. I like stuff. I get caught up in worldly desires. I want, want, want. All the time. I justify. I cave in to my children's begging and their desires. I honestly believe things like, "If we just had more....," "We will give _________(fill in the blank) as soon as we make $__________(fill in the blank," "We would ___________(fill in the blank) if we could, but clearly we can't." 
     On top of all that, I whine about bad days, complain about my kids, have secret desires that my husband would make more, do more, make less, do less (circle one or two, depending on my mood that day). 
     You see, my heart is not pure. In fact, God says my heart is "deceitful above all things," from Jeremiah 17:9. Can you believe it? 
     So I must CONSTANTLY remind myself to be thankful. Always. Every moment of every day. 
     Because I have so, so much to be thankful for — great health, food three (or more) times every day, a roof over my head, a van to get me where I need to be, wonderful friends, the most amazing husband and two children who weren't supposed to be born. I have abundantly more than I deserve. 
     For two and a half years, I lived a VERY UNGRATEFUL life. I couldn't get pregnant, and then I was told the odds that I'd ever have a child were quite small. Maybe about 5 percent. 
     Back then, I was starting to think again maybe God was real. I had been raised in the Lutheran faith, churched my entire childhood and then convinced throughout my college years and early career that there was no God. High school friends had planted seeds of doubt, and liberal professors sowed them. I was cultivating the ideas when I met my husband. We were both highly doubtful, to say the least. 
     We were desperate, though, when we wanted to have a baby. And so we asked for prayers. Our names were added to prayer lists. Yet, we never prayed. 
     But you see, God loves us so much that He gives us exactly what we need when we need it. He answered the prayer we never prayed, and He gave us Abby. And then even more miraculously, He gave us Ryker. Undeserving, unbelieving sinners. He answered. He gave. Because He loved. 
     Those answered prayers led us to the town where we live now, to the church where we were born again, to the life God wanted for us, to a place where we would seek Him and walk in His will. 
     He is so very wise. 
     There are prayers He is answering on our behalf from others that we don't even know about. There are ways He is moving because of His love for us. He is almighty, omniscient and omnipresent. 
     For that, I must respond with an attitude of gratitude. For all I am and all I have, I owe to His great mercy and grace. 
     Daily it is my pleasure to thank Him. I do so by choice, a free will that He bestowed on me, and I'm not under any obligation. I thank Him because I love Him. I love Him because He loves me. 
     My attitude of gratitude is a song of praise to the heavenly King! Singing it brings me great joy. 

“May these words of my mouth and this meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer” (Psalm 19:14).

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

Life, and God, can get a little risky

     I've been thinking a lot about risk taking. What that looks like. Why it's important in your walk of faith. How it draws you closer to God. How risks, when taken because God called you to action, are acts of obedience meant to draw you into a closer love relationship with the Lord. 
     They are different for every person. Something that seems incredibly risky to me may seem like a walk in the park to you, and something bold I've done may be something you could never do. And God wouldn't call you to it. 
     I believe God calls ALL of us to take risks. Risks that are appropriate for the unique ways in which He created each one of us. It's not fair or right to judge another's walk of faith and obedience to Christ — as brothers and sisters we are to seek out only our relationship with Him and to love and support one another as we each step out in faith.
     That act of faith may be to share our testimony with one person. It might be to speak publicly in front of 3,000. It could be that our risk is going on a short-term mission trip for the weekend to a nearby city. Or God could call us to uproot our family and become missionaries in a far-away country. 
     Risks. We all MUST take them if we want to grow our faith.  
     As I have been pondering the concept, I was browsing the local library. 
     I headed to a familiar shelf in the little, little kids section. Straight to an author I love. Straight to my favorite of her amazing books. Verdi. I wasn't thinking about risk. I was just thinking that I super appreciate Janell Cannon's writing, and I wanted to revisit a classic that makes me smile and warms my soul. 
     My children were 3 and 5 when we first read this book. And re-read it every night for two weeks until it was due back at the library. We checked it out more than once. Grandparents have read it, too. Cannon is an amazing writer who beautifully tells stories of human struggle  using animal characters. 
     Verdi is a python. It just so happens that he is a risk-taker, an adventurer at heart. When he realizes the older pythons are boring, laying around all day and complaining, he tries to avoid growing old. But an accident grounds him, and he is at the mercy of the older pythons who rescued him as they talk about the risks they took in their youthful days while he heals. 
     They invite him to join them when he's ready to go back out into the jungle, but he refuses. Verdi soon realizes life can be appreciated when he slows down. When two young pythons approach him teasing him for being old and uninteresting, he takes them by surprise when he teaches them some of his old tricks. 
     In the end, Verdi decides that it's OK to enjoy and express all sides of his personality — an adventurer who loves life in the quiet and the risks.






     This morning, I opened up my emails to this blog update by author and speaker Seth Godin, and it was yet another reminder of the reason we sometimes MUST take risks:

     Thanks to technology, (relative) peace and historic levels of prosperity, we've turned our culture into a crystal palace, a gleaming edifice that needs to be perfected and polished more than it is appreciated.
      We waste our days whining over slight imperfections (the nuts in first class aren't warm, the subway isn't cool enough, the vaccine leaves a bump on our arm for two hours) instead of seeing the modern miracles all around us. That last thing that went horribly wrong, that ruined everything, that led to a spat or tears or reciminations--if you put it on a t-shirt and wore it in public, how would it feel? "My iPhone died in the middle of the 8th inning because my wife didn't charge it and I couldn't take a picture of the home run from our box seats!"
     Worse, we're losing our ability to engage with situations that might not have outcomes shiny enough or risk-free enough to belong in the palace. By insulating ourselves from perceived risk, from people and places that might not like us, appreciate us or guarantee us a smooth ride, we spend our day in a prison we've built for ourself.
      Shiny, but hardly nurturing.
     So, we ban things from airplanes not because they are dangerous, but because they frighten us. We avoid writing, or sales calls, or inventing or performing or engaging not because we can't do it, but because it might not work. We don't interact with strange ideas, new cuisines or people who share different values because those interactions might make us uncomfortable...
     Funny looking tomatoes, people who don't look like us, interactions where we might not get a yes...
      Growth is messy and dangerous. Life is messy and dangerous. When we insist on a guarantee, an ever-increasing standard in everything we measure and a Hollywood ending, we get none of those.

     Sometimes you have to take risks to be who you really are. Sometimes you have to risk it all to enjoy life, to get the most out of it, to be a testimony of your faith to others. God is calling you to do something adventurous for Him. Will you embrace the risk? Are you interested in exploring your faith or taking it to the next level? He will gladly meet you there!

Tuesday, October 22, 2013

Crazy kinda faith

     This is my pre post. The introduction to the introduction of the next crazy thing my family is up to. 
     The reality is that we're not so radical. I truly wish I could be much, much more "out there." Thankfully I've got some good role models in this area, and perhaps half a lifetime left. 
     It's that "perhaps" that's really been in the driving seat lately. 
     Have you ever thought about the number of your days? Really and truly thought about it?  
     Dan's sudden and serious illness nearly two years ago made me think about it. Truly nobody is promised another day, or even another breath.
     Which is why I think about the fact that maybe I don't have half a lifetime left. 
     I have to consider this. 
     I have to often. 
     Because if I don't, I get caught up in laundry, dinner, housework, kids' schedules, church schedules, ministry stuff, money stuff, life stuff. I'm so busy and worried about looking like I was actually prepared for that next thing that I'm not really living. That doesn't really honor the precious life God bestowed on me. 
     Because if you haven't noticed, life is happening all around us. And if we aren't careful, we aren't in it. You know, like really in it with our sleeves rolled up. Working side-by-side with our neighbors, laughing, loving, being, sharing, obeying, rescuing, caring, feeling connected. Being vulnerable. Seeking. Finding. Growing.
     I don't want a checklist kind of life. 
     Call me crazy, but I don't want a predictable kind of easy-go-lucky life either. I mean, I am constantly fighting it.    Because the flesh part of me wants what the world has to offer. Easy, stuff-filled, wealth-accumulating, checklist-oriented, pretty packaging kind of life. If I honestly admit it, I wouldn't mind the manicured nails and the highlights in my hair and the pampering pedicures. I definitely wouldn't mind extravagant annual family vacations. Anniversary trips to white sandy beaches.
     I practically hyperventilate as I reread that last paragraph. Oh. My. Gosh. That is totally the life I had, albeit briefly. 
     It was terribly unfulfilling. It sucked the life right out of me. So void of real relationships. Real love. Real grace. Real risk. Real joy. 
     I wouldn't want all this world has to offer if it didn't come without that last list of "reals." 
     And I know how to get real. I want what Jesus offers. But first I must die to flesh, the worldly desires...and be radical. I have to love big, live big, fight like it's worth it and {gulp!} take RISKS! 
     Guess what? That's what faith is...it's Jesus-inspired, relationship-driven, fight-worthy, God-led risks. Without the leap of faith, God won't show us how big and merciful and amazing He is. How He delivers us, rescues us, fights for us, shows up for us, loves us.  
     And I want every bit of that, because I've had some tastes here and there, especially in the last 20 months.      
     And it. Is. Phenomenal. 
     Better than the most gorgeous beach, breath-taking mountain scenery, adventures, romance. He is the Creator of all those, after all. Faith can feed you; it's better than any drug or addiction. This is the kind of living I want more and more of! I want my kids to know how to love, to fight, to serve, to obey, to risk it all. Because an all-out radical faith means we reap the rewards that only a relationship with Christ can offer.  
     Jehovah Nissi. Jehovah Jireh.