Just Show Up
I’ll admit, it began as an irritation.
Why are we the ones ALWAYS here? Of course, the pastor’s family has to show up at church, right? Of course the Bible study leader has to show up. Of course the retreat speaker has to show up.
After 16 years leading Bible studies and small groups, I get what it’s like to be the one who has to show up. And I’ve always counted that a blessing. The reality is, whenever we just show up we are blessed. We only benefit. I’m grateful for all these years where leadership has forced me to be consistent, because I know my tendency to be hit-and-miss.
But this year, something began aching in my heart. I always knew it was there. After years leading small groups, you know the attrition rate by heart:
Usually by the end of the study half the participants … aren’t participating.
But it becomes heightened, more clearly seen, in something small like a church plant. Although this thing certainly isn’t “ours,” there is a very real sense that our very hearts and souls are poured out into this little ragtag band of believers called Renew. Paul clearly had this same burdened heart for all those he invested in for the sake of the Kingdom.
And so the inconsistency, the attrition, the hit-and-miss … is keenly felt.
And yet, my optimism constantly reminds me: God uses exactly who’s there for just the right purpose. He can move mightily no matter who comes and who doesn’t.
And this is true. Of course God is so powerfully and gloriously sovereign, He can work gloriously with two people or two-thousand people.
And yet.
(Now my heart’s doing this crazy-thumping thing because I’m pretty sure I’m going to offend a bunch of people right now.)
I poured out my heart to God about this recently, sharing honestly with Him how hard and lonely it is to be the one always showing up. Do you know what I heard crystal clear in my heart?
“How do you think I feel?”
Tears flowed as I realized how we have hurt the heart of God.
I believe the heart of God is deeply grieved that we have made him last priority in our lives. That we have made spiritual matters of least importance. That we put more thought into the state of our financial portfolio than the state of our souls. That we put soccer schedules ahead of Sunday morning worship. That we have financial needs and yet blatantly ignore God’s clear commands on giving to Him first. That we neglect morning prayers and time in the sacred Scriptures because we really “need some sleep.”
I’m not talking about legalism, I’m talking about LOVE.
I believe the heart of God is broken because He waits and waits and waits and waits, for us to just show up. Like a husband who plans a date with His wife every Friday night, who reserves a table for 2 and sits alone in the candlelight, waiting, waiting, waiting for His beloved bride to show up.[bctt tweet=”Like a husband who plans a date with his wife, reserves a candlelit table for two, and waits … God waits for us to show up.”]
But she never does. She needed sleep. Something came up. A friend stopped by.
He sits there, alone, waiting for us to just show up.
I read a story recently of a family in the 60s, in Communist Russia. They loved Jesus. Every weekend, they would walk 30 miles to get to the nearest church, then walk 30 miles home, traveling all night long Sunday night, to be ready for work Monday morning.
This undoes me. Oh God, forgive us. We know nothing of carrying our cross, we know nothing of commitment.
We know nothing of true love.
Again, this isn’t a message of condemnation, it is a PLEA that the people of God would know the heart of God, that He does not come last. Matthew says that as the end nears,
“The love of many will grow cold.” (24:12)
Please: Do not let your love grow cold. He waits for you.
Just show up.
{Thank you for reading.}
When you’re ready for a change
Maybe if I move the furniture around. Clean that drawer again, buy a shirt. How do I look with bangs? Most middle-aged girls go that route right about now.
I sigh and look around again, looking for change.
Something to wake me from this… this … acedia.
Kathleen Norris introduced me to this word which so aptly describes this lethargic, sluggish fogginess that settles sometimes in my spirit. Defined:
-
spiritual or mental sloth; apathy.
Spiritual sloth. Could it get any more descriptive? The world’s slowest mammal, a sloth travels (top speed) .15-.2 mph.
I picture that sloth again and look in the mirror.
Bangs aren’t what I need.
Really, what’s happening is that I want to change everything around me because I don’t want to change me.[bctt tweet=”Usually I want to change everything around me because I don’t want to change me.”]
It’s way easier to change my hair than my heart.
The truth is, when things slow and the dust of busyness settles, sometimes we have a chance to see inside a bit. Sometimes we see our discontent, our critical or controlling spirit, our anger or white-knuckled grip on comfort or ease. So we respond:
New throw pillows, anyone?
Specifically, I noticed my tendency to get angry with my kids. It was something I’d “dealt” with several months ago, devoting a prayer card to daily repentance of this, and saw such dramatic deliverance in this area that I tossed out the prayer card, praising God for His glorious work!
But gardens need tending because weeds tend to return.
I saw it again on Saturday, and my son (who sees all things scientifically) commented:
“I think some people have an anger gland …”
He paused, weighing his words.
“I think you have an anger gland.”
Sigh.
An anger gland. Awesome.
Well, there we had it, and I may not be the brightest girl, but I know that if my child diagnoses me with an anger-gland my greatest need is not a new pair of shoes.
I need to change.
And, just for the record, those littles weren’t all innocent either. (I responded by saying with a wide smile, “Well, some people’s behavior makes other people’s anger gland FLARE UP.”
So, since the problem was us, I decided that going out for ice cream wasn’t what we needed most.
We gathered in Heidi’s room (the only place with carpet), got on our knees, bowed our faces to the ground. And together we re-learned the power of repentance, of confession, to God and to one to another (James 5:16). The quarreling, the selfishness, the anger: all out loud. Of course we only need confess our sin silently to God, but there is power in transparency with others. When we do it, Scripture says, we are healed.
Changed.
Of course this isn’t a one-and-done deal. On our faces is a place we often ought to be. But I did notice a marked difference, in all of us. Today, as the kids worked through a tiff instead of turning it into a fight, and I responded with a warm voice instead of a bark, they high-fived each other and said, “This is our best day ever!”
My eyes welled with grateful tears as I high-fived them too, and just like that I realized:
The best kind of change is the kind in us.
{Thank you for reading.}
God loves you.
How many times can I repost that Treadmill bit?
Because I find myself there so often it seems that perhaps I should just schedule it on repeat (is that possible?) so that it pops up quarterly (monthly? daily?) and reminds me to keep running.
I don’t have anything new to share with you today. There are some things, a lot of things, mulling around in this mind. Most of it has to do with sin, repentance, the flesh, faith … you know, just nice light stuff like that. *smile* None of it is Monday-morning peptalk material. Besides, stuff has to steep a lot in this girl’s heart before she’s ready to share.
But I prayed and asked the Father what He wanted to say to you, and all I could hear back in my heart, again and again:
“Tell them I love them.”
That’s it?
“Tell them I love them.”
Anything else? Verse reference? Anything specific?
“Tell them I love them.”
Ok, so, here goes:
God loves you.
He loves you.
The reason He calls us to repentance, to turn from sin, to do hard things, to be part of community, to flee from idols, to lay down our lives, to embrace suffering, to believe Him for crazy miraculous answers to pray when everyone around us calls us idiots, the reason He asks us to be uncomfortable, the reason He leads us away from the easy road and into the narrow, steep, windy, path … the reason is, He loves us.
When we make choices to turn away from Him, we tragically miss out on the love of God.
If we’re far from Him, He’s not the one who moved.
Maybe today, instead of another mental checklist of all the ways you’ll better yourself, of all the ways you’ll “do better” this week, maybe just meditate on the life-transforming love of God, as revealed to us in His Word.
You love never fails, never gives up, never runs out on me.
On and on and on and on it goes. And it overwhelms and satisfies my soul.
And I never ever have to be afraid.
This one thing, remains.
{He loves you. Happy Monday. Thanks for reading.}
When you’re lonely, there inside your head.
This week I witnessed an extraordinary example of community, the power of sisters gathering–in honesty, humility, confession, accountability, and prayer. It reminded me of this from a few years ago, when I was so lonely here inside my head. May you take that first scary step toward vulnerability and transparency, and may you discover again the power of together.
~
It’s lonely here, inside my head.
Every thought just echoes in the emptiness, returning back to me over and over again. Except, unlike an echo, the reverberations keep getting louder and louder, instead of fading away.
What started it? Maybe social media. Photos of everyone else having fun (without me), and feeling left out. The random interaction that mysteriously threw me for a loop. Or a comment from a friend, not meant to hurt, that hurt nonetheless. Or measuring my worth by some impossible scale. Or some public mishap with the children. It’s all clear evidence which seals the verdict:
Guilty of first degree failure.
They say women are complicated. We must be, because sometimes I don’t even know what’s wrong as a tear slides down my cheek.
But I know it’s lonely in my head when I’m the only one talking.
And there’s no one in there to interrupt those echoes. Those accusations and hopeless lines and blanket statements. A few of us are fortunate enough to have close–really close–friends who we can call or text, a few words shared can sometimes ease the load immensely.
If we let someone else into our head it’s not so lonely anymore.
The echoes stop.
It’s as simple as a text. A one-line email. A 30-second call:
“I’m getting beat down. Will you pray?”
That’s all. Nine times out of ten the reason I don’t reach out is that a) I don’t know exactly what’s bothering me and b) I don’t really want to talk about it. I hate hashing things out because I’m not a verbal processor (but that’s great if you are!).
A one-line call for help says:
I don’t need to talk about it. I just want you to know about it.
And as great as that one-line call for help is, it works best on conjunction with another one-line call:
The one that goes straight to Jesus.
“I’m getting beat down. Will you pray?”
And He ever lives to make intercession for us.
Consequently, he is able to save to the uttermost those who draw near to God through him, since he always lives to make intercession for them. (Heb. 7:25)
Not just in the past. Right now:
“Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died–more than that, who was raised–who is is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us.” (Rom. 8:34)
In an instant He can silence the echoes. He can fill the emptiness. He can take away the loneliness, there inside your head.
{Do you need to text these 7 words to someone today? “I’m getting beat down. Will you pray?” Or write them here, in the comments, and it would be my joy to pray for you today. Thank you so much for reading.}