Stillness, when the world is raging
The temperature is perfect, I’m settled into an Adirondack chair, wind chimes gently tinkling, the trees around the deck swaying softly in the warm breeze, leaves rustling ever so slightly. It’s Sabbath. All the housemates are gone. Jeff and Dutch are gone. Ben is asleep. Justice is settled in his own child-size Adirondack chair, watching the leaves and birds and bugs. Heidi is kneeling on the deck, watercolors spread on a wooden bench in front of her, painting. Justice just looked up and said, “Mommy, I love you.” Occasionally, a goat softly bleats, a chicken clucks. It’s so quiet.
This never happens, you guys. But it is now so I’m seizing this moment to say hello.
I’m a little rusty at writing. It’s been so long since I’ve written a post here I actually forgot my password.
A few weeks ago I wrote in my journal: I feel like I’m emerging from a hole, maybe a bomb shelter? That was the only entry for that day — my journal isn’t impressive, scraps of thoughts and prayers and Scriptures sprinkled into the few moments my arms are free each morning before the littles awaken.
What an interesting 18-months we’ve had, yes? And we continue to have … I’m not here to provide any commentary on current events (although I’m grateful for the thoughtful Christ-followers who are), I’m just hoping to get back in the rhythm of sharing nuggets of the Sacred in the midst of my mundane. I’ve mentioned before, I don’t know what I think until I write. For me, writing is therapy. Writing is processing. Writing is healing. Fourteen years ago this blog began because it was a dark season and Jeff knew that writing would help my heart. I haven’t outgrown that. It still does.
But oh my goodness, life is so full. The past five years have brought four family deaths, a precious friend’s son’s death, three miscarriages plus two babies (!), a global pandemic and unrest, historic wind and wildfires, an ice-storm, power outages, and significant shifts in close relationships. Notice that not all these things are bad. But they are taxing.
We the people are tired.
And so I Sabbath. Why? Because our King tells us to Sabbath, and every Sabbath reminds me that I am not in control of this world. It reminds me that I am weak and He is strong, and for 24 hours every week I remind my soul: There is a God. It is not me.
Without Sabbath I would miss the breeze and the wind chimes and I might even miss the smell of sweet apples in the garage waiting to become applesauce. Without Sabbath, I know — I would get tricked again into believing it all depends on me and if I don’t hold back the darkness what’re we going to do?
Last night we prayed. We gathered. Just a dozen of us but it doesn’t take many. We sat outside in a circle, in mis-matched lawn chairs, the babies on a blanket. We prayed near and far. From our own needs, precious to God, to the Afghan people, equally precious. We read Scripture. We sang. We laid hands on each other. We believed.
And I kept thinking that those 2+ hours were probably the most effective moments of my whole month. I kept thinking, “Why do I not do this more often? Why does everyone not doing this more often? This is our best work!”
So still. So many moments of complete silence. And yet with every ounce of my being I know work was accomplished. God is not limited by time and space. My mind blows all over again at the realization that I can actually help people on the other side of the world when I pray.
Sabbath stills us long enough to pray. We slip off the crushing yoke of believing we have to have this all figured out and having the RIGHT STANCE on every single issue RIGHT NOW.
I forget that prayer is actually super forgiving. Like, if I say the wrong thing on social media I will be crucified. But if my heart is turned toward God and I lift up what I think would please him as best as I know how, He can work through my efforts and bring His kingdom, even if I’m somehow misguided.
Glory hallelujah! Isn’t that good news, guys?
There’s so much I don’t know. God’s given me some pretty clear directives; I’m obeying those. Outside of that … I don’t know. I pray. I don’t feel like I fit comfortably into any “camp” these days. I’m not this-enough for these people and not this-enough for these people. Anybody else?
Haha, I guess it’s high time I realized I’m not enough of anything, ever. Goodness sakes, thank the Lord that He is enough!
And that’s what Sabbath says: God, you’re enough. I’m sure not. You are.
I saw a quote the other day that read:
No matter what is happening in the world, have your tea, make your list, plan your food preparation, read to your children, wash the clothes, do something creative for everyone and be a light in your home.
I love this, because while it’s not about Sabbath, it’s a recognition that no matter what is happening, there is probably someone you can serve, love, nurture, teach, help … right in front of you. Not advocating me stick our heads in the sand, good grief not at all, but we can sure get sucked into the joy-destroying trap of over-focusing on what we cannot control and overlooking that which we can.
So today, I’ll Sabbath. I’ll enjoy this stillness. Ben’s nap is almost over. Justice is eager for interaction. The chickens have gotten into my raised beds and are eating the kale. It’s time to sign off. But my goodness I’m grateful for this weekly rhythm of silence, slowing, of reminding my Soul that it really is ok to just stop.
O Lord, my heart is not lifted up;
my eyes are not raised too high;
I do not occupy myself with things
too great and too marvelous for me.
2 But I have calmed and quieted my soul,
like a weaned child with its mother;
like a weaned child is my soul within me.3 O Israel, hope in the Lord
Psalm 131
from this time forth and forevermore.
Intentional Mediocrity: Making your Not To Do list
“Anything worth doing is worth doing badly.” -GK Chesterton
Okay, this quote doesn’t top the charts of most-inspiring, but this idea has helped me immensely through the last 15 years of motherhood, homeschooling, and juggling the never-ending demands of ministry life.
Like you, I’ve been asked many times: “How do you do it all?”
And my answer is always: “I don’t.”
On those glass-is-half-empty days, when I’m discouraged and my perspective is skewed, I feel as though I don’t do anything well.
Dinner’s made, but it’s chicken and rice again. Laundry’s done, because I no longer fold. Kids finished school because I told Heidi to skip the Base 2 math problems (again). The house is tidied but the sliding glass door has so many smeared handprints I can barely see through it.
But eventually I remind myself of Chesterton’s wisdom and the power of intentional mediocrity.
Truth: We can’t be awesome everywhere.
I remember reading Michael Hyatt’s book Platform years ago, where he teaches the importance of exceeding customer’s expectations, of “baking in the Wow” to every aspect of your business. And I remember writing this realization in my journal that day:
“I can’t be awesome everywhere. I can’t ‘bake in the Wow’ in every area of life.”
Truth: Some things have to be neglected.
Sadly, many people only “bake in the Wow” in the business world, or in the areas of life that are visible to others, but neglect the hidden places, the small people, or the health of their souls. We’re all in danger of mis-prioritizing which areas are worthy of Wow.
We’re wise to give it some consideration so we don’t drop the ball on what really matters.
Our task as parents and home-educators is to thoughtfully and intentionally choose where we will “bake in the Wow” (i.e. focus our attention) and where we will deliberately and confidently choose mediocrity.
If we don’t do this we’ll be enslaved to perfectionism, or convinced we must be failing since not everything is awesome.
One simple exercise that can help: A well-chosen Homeschool Not To Do list. {Read the rest over at Simple Homeschool…thanks!}
Y’all are the body {PODCAST}
Scripture tells us that we (plural!) are the body of Christ (singular). What does this mean? Well, because God created the world, the entire world serves as an illustration of theological truth. So as we look through the Word AT the world we see a beautiful picture of what oneness is like. Join me for Episode 33 as we dive into what ONENESS really is and how we can learn from His created world to be more of what HE intended us to be. Read More
Still Here! The GOOD News {PODCAST}
I recently received an email from a dear sister in Christ walking through a difficult situation in her local church. Her pastor resigned, so worn down from the strife and conflict. Many people have left. She’s feeling tired and alone and it got me thinking it’d be good to talk a bit about the Second Mile as it relates to church unity and navigating difficulties together as the body of Christ. So here we go! Join me for Episode 32 as we dive into God’s heart for His church, and how the Second Mile enables us to be ONE heart, one mind, united in our one glorious purpose.Read More
Wistfully
I remember my freshman year of college, when I first started really following Jesus — I remember missing my old boyfriend, and keenly feeling that aching torn-between-two worlds feeling. I wanted Jesus more than anything. But there were days I looked wistfully at my old life.
Now, 23 years later, I can see how silly it was to long for what was gone because God had so much more in store for me. There’s no comparison. Life has had pain, for sure, but also blessings beyond what I could have then imagined.
A couple years ago I wrote a song. I have written exactly one song in my life, and this is it. 😉 I wrote it before any of our latest global adventures began. It’s called The Narrow Road. The verses go like this:
Lord, here’s my heart. Divided and Torn. Part wanting my way, part wanting yours. Make it undivided. Make it whole again. Lead me down the narrow road.
There is a wide way that seems right to man, but it leads straight to death, again and again. It’s your kindness, I know, that turns me around, to go down the narrow road.
My flesh hates restrictions, hates feeling bound, but I know your commands, Lord, are where freedom’s found. I submit to your plan, I relinquish my rights, I’ll go down the narrow road.
Put my hand to the plow, and I’ll look straight ahead; Remember Lot’s wife, let dead bury dead. ‘Cause your promise is sure, and nothing compares, I’ll go down the narrow road.
All this world offers, I’ll count it as loss. Deny’s self’s demands, and take up my cross. ‘Cause your way leads to life, abundant and true, I’ll go down the narrow road.
Then on that day, when I reach journey’s end, I’ll meet with my Maker, my Savior, my Friend. He’s the way, truth, the life, He’s the only Door, to joy in its fullness, pleasure evermore.
The chorus goes:
I look wistfully at the road that is wide, then I remember why my Savior died. And the life I now live, is Christ crucified, I’ll go down the narrow road.
I had forgotten all about this song, until today when I was reading John Piper’s words today:
One of the great temptations to keep us from fulfilling what Jesus calls us to to do is that we grow weary in the battle and look back on how easy life was before we started to follow him. Strive to enter through the narrow door means, fight for perseverence. … In other words, one of the factors that makes the door to the Kingdom of God narrow is that striving to enter must last to the end. Therefore, Jesus warns us against nostalgia for the former days of worldliness. He says that the stress of the last days of this age will tempt people to look back. So with stark simplicity he warns, “Remember Lot’s wife” (Luke 17:32) … Striving to enter through the narrow door means taking heed to the warning of Jesus: “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God” (Luke 9:62).
What Jesus Demands From the World, P. 177
This pandemic has left many of us wondering, “What does it mean to ‘go back’?” I don’t think we can go back. Because the world is different. We are different. And God is doing His thing, as always, and invites us in, but there is always this temptation to look wistfully at “the old days.”
When the days drew near for him to be taken up, [Jesus] set his face to go to Jerusalem.
Luke 9:51
This week we remember Jesus’ movement toward the cross. As the days drew near, he “set his face” in the right direction. No reminiscing about wine at weddings. No wistful remembrance of the “good ol’ days.” No bitterness that his once-friend Judas was about to betray him.
He set his face.
Lord, set ours.
Do Good {PODCAST}
Doing good: That’s what the Second Mile is all about. Instead of dwelling on the stinging cheek, we move forward and offer the other. Instead of throwing ourselves into defending our rights and our stuff, we let go of the tunic and offer the cloak. Instead of huffing and puffing over that first unfair mile, we lift our eyes to the One we really serve and with a little hop in our step we go not just one, but two.
The joy comes in the doing good.Read More
Entrust your soul to God {PODCAST}
If I’m honest, what I see with my eyes in the world around me looks suuuuuper unfair. Sometimes I can safely distance myself from all that feels wrong, but sooner or later we’re forced to face it and honestly it can seem unbearable. Enter Psalm 73. It’s one of my favorites, and it provides us a blueprint for what this process looks like — giving God our honest agony and reminding our souls of what’s true: It’s good to be near God.Read More
How is this God’s will? {PODCAST}
We know that death and disease are not God’s will, He doesn’t delight in those things, but of course we see God working good through crises of all kinds, every single day. So how do we resist evil but not resist the good God is doing? How do we “go the second mile” but still abhor evil the way God does? I usually figure it’s best to answer Scripture’s questions with Scripture. In this case, 1 Peter 4:19 provides us a powerful 3-point outline of how we are to respond to the inevitable evil, unfairness, and even suffering that we encounter in this world. God’s Word gives us exactly what we need! Read More
ROME {PODCAST}
In this last leg of the Second Mile, we’re talking about GENERAL INJUSTICES. Those things in life that feel maddeningly unfair. The ways that those in authority make demands that feel frustrating. The ways we might feel powerless, enslaved to a certain set of circumstances we don’t have the power to change.Read More
You’re Getting Ripped Off {PODCAST}
Have you ever wished you could just write a check to make someone come to Christ? Maybe that sounds bizarre, but I mean, haven’t you ever wished that you had that kind of power, just through incurring a cost, to actually influence a person’s soul for eternity?
What if we do?Read More