How Mystic’s absence is setting me free…
I mentioned here about the Mystic/Dominic dream my friend had during our 40-day fast, and here about how I felt after God freed my heart from Mystic’s influence. This one simple shift has impacted so many aspects of my life, I feel like I’m seeing fruit of it left and right. I’m telling you, that lady was everywhere! 😉 I know it might not apply to you, but I feel like it’s worth sharing, just in case.
In some ways, it seems like such a small thing—exchanging a desire for experiences with God for a desire for God, allowing Him to birth His work in us however it looks, however He pleases. But it affects everything. Most significantly, I’ve noticed that Mystic’s absence has brought a newfound freedom and joy in leadership.
Close friends know that I don’t actually love leading. It isn’t my primary spiritual gift. I’d much rather hole up and read or write, or prepare a message and teach. And yet, leadership is where I often find myself, so I’ve wrestled over the years with this oft-experienced feeling of dread, before leading Bible study, a small group, church services, even a prayer meeting.
The weight of responsibility feels so heavy.
Part of that is appropriate, we should feel the weight of something as important as shepherding people, but still it seemed like something could be different. For example, I was always the one suggesting we take a break from Bible study. I was always the one suggesting we have an off-week. I was always the one leaning towards cancelling if some people couldn’t make it. Though I hate to admit it, I was eager to “get out of” leadership opportunities. I just figured it was a normal part of leadership, but, strangely enough, it had to do with Mystic.
I really had no idea this pressure was upon me, but I see it now. A subtle pressure from the skewed belief that I’m just a little bit responsible for producing a certain experience for those who I lead. Did I pray enough? Did I prepare enough? What if everything I say seems to fall flat? What if no one responds? What if they all walk away like, “Huh, that wasn’t very impactful.” What if people yawn??
The slightest skewed perspective can produce devastating results. A subtle pressure exerted on our hearts and minds over time, can be deadly. It can slowly push us over the edge.
Now, of course, there is a role we play as leaders. If we neglect prayer, neglect prep, neglect our hearts and ignore God’s leading, we cannot expect Him to do a powerful work in our midst. He often still does, He is eternally gracious, but we are certainly responsible to obey Him in any way He calls us to prepare.
But that’s just it. We obey Him in all things, in the unseen, in the ways that might not even see directly related to the upcoming event.
There’s freedom. My efforts can be focused on simply obeying my Father, not working to produce some certain experience or result.
With mystic gone, there’s JOY in leadership. It’s not up to me! It’s all Him! And I don’t have produce some emotional experience for people. As we are faithful to the Father, fervent in prayer, and we present the truth of the Gospel and the power and love of Jesus Christ, lives will change.
If we have to add some spice or extra glitz to the gospel, we expose our underlying belief that the gospel isn’t enough.
But it is. Jesus Christ is enough. The only secret sauce is Him. The Wow is already baked in.
And we release its full power by simply believing that He is enough. For us, for them. The load of leadership becomes light because the burden is His.
{May there be freedom for you this week. Thanks for reading.}
How things look up…
Hello from California! We’re continuing along our road trip and I wanted to share some musings and reflections from earlier this week. Just a quick thought here, lots more to come!
This is our fifth year making the long trek down south, and we’ve learned a few things from these family vacations over the years. The first is this: The more God-made things we can enjoy, the better. That is, we’ll choose God-made stuff over man-made stuff every time. National Parks over Amusement Parks, trees over rides, hikes over trams, campgrounds over hotels, home-cooked meals over fast-food. Not knocking those other things at all, every family’s different, just saying we’ve discovered that we flourish when we surround ourselves with stuff that’s closer to Creation. It’s slower. We’re happier.
Clearly we only go so far in this, however. We drove here. We didn’t sleep on the ground. We used navigation systems on our iphones. I’m typing on a laptop. The kids are watching Anne of Green Gables in the backseat.
But even right now as I type these words, we are driving away from the Redwood Forest, headed inland, toward a city. And my heart sinks just a little that we have to leave the land of majestic trees, of silent forests and endless trails, of cool shady coves and secluded picnic spots.
When I was in my overwhelming funk, when I was feeling sick and miserable, when I was grumpy and frustrated, we packed up a picnic and hiked through the Redwood forest.
And there, we looked up.
That’s how things look up.
Things look up when we do.
For me, God’s creation causes me to look up like nothing else. God’s Word, the precious people in my church family, and the glory of God’s natural world is what causes praise to spring up in my heart, what causes everything to fall into place, what brings back the perspective I so desperately need. Really, it’s just worship. The practice of worshipping is simply setting our gaze back on God. Returning to Him, remembering, reconnecting with Him, with truth.
Standing there, in the grove of God’s gigantic grace, I settle into my smallness and my heart kneels before the splendor of the King. He is God. I am not. He is good. Always. No matter how I feel, these trees declare His glory, and I find my peace and rest within His power. I can trust Him. He has told me He works all things for good. I don’t need to feel good to know this is true. I don’t have to feel anything in particular. I can just stand before these massive trees and know that He is unchanging, all powerful, all good.
I can rest in this.
I know that a cold is not a big deal. I wasn’t experiencing true suffering. But the principle is the same. Things look up when we do.
When we behold His greatness and tuck ourselves into the truth of who He is. This can happen anywhere, but it always requires a turning upward of our gaze. Up to His truth. Up to His love. Up to His heart.
This is worship. It changes everything.
I’m grateful for that little cold, and the big Redwoods, that brought this truth back to my heart.
{How can you look up today? Thanks for reading.}
How imperfections perfect.
Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing.
James 1:4
I had worked so hard to have everything perfect. I’d planned ahead, cooked ahead, packed and laundered and cleaned and … then I got sick. Noooo! We were leaving on our 19-day road trip and the day before I came down with a terrible cold and was so miserable I could barely get out of bed. Our first stop was in the Redwoods, where the forecast predicted 45-55 degree weather. And nonstop rain. Did I mention a tent-trailer?
As soon as church was out, the kids and I hurried home to finish the last minute preparations. Of course, everything took longer than I thought. Of course, by the time we got everything ready and pulled out the driveway I was already so exhausted I just wanted to turn right around and go back to bed.
Our ETA was 8pm. But then again, we were pulling a trailer, and it was pouring rain and dark by the time we wove our way through the curvy Redwood highway. By now I was already a little irked that we’d made three bathroom stops (I won’t name names) and I knew we were behind schedule and I was just so tired. I just wanted a warm bed.
By the time we wound through the final stretch of highway, I was beyond irritated. Jeff was driving so slow. I kept staring a hole in the speedometer. Sure, he was being safe. Sure, it was pouring rain, pitch black, and we were on one of the most dangerous stretches of highway. But really?!
Finally, we arrive. It’s almost 10pm. My head is pounding, I’m sneezing, my nose is raw and running, my throat’s burning. Now it’s time to set up camp, which takes us until 10:30pm. All I can think about is warmth. If I could just get warm. I knew we had a heater in the tent trailer, so I figured once we got curled up into bed, it’d be ok.
We crawl in under the cold covers. “The heat’s on, right Babe?” I check with Jeff. He assures me it is. It sure feels like cold air. I huddle under the blankets, and wait, hoping it will get warm soon. I can’t breathe through my nose. Maybe it will get warm soon.
It never did. It was just cold. Super wet and cold all night. I wake in the morning, more miserable than ever. Jeff goes out to check something, and when he returns he says, “Oh, I never turned on the propane last night. So the heat never turned on, it was just a fan.”
Right. It was just A FAN BLOWING COLD AIR ON US ALL NIGHT. That’s exactly what it felt like as I lay in bed blowing my nose and NOT SLEEPING.
I don’t even need to get into the rest of the morning, right? Ha! You mamas know that when camping, the normal routines of cooking and cleaning take ten times as much effort. Finding the food. The clothes. It’s pouring rain and the floor’s already covered in mud, my head is pounding, eyes are burning, nose running … ARE WE HAVING FUN YET??!!!
Eventually, of course, we find our food and groove. Jeff goes for his run. The kids get started on their school lessons, and I get curled up with a blanket and hot coffee.
Of course, the day gets better. We get out. We look up. Nothing like thousands of 300-foot-tall trees to remind you of your smallness, God’s bigness, and the proper perspective on our problems.
Although I still felt terrible physically, my eyes turned up and I knew this was good. Why? Because imperfection perfects. It is these mundane “sufferings” — the irritations and inconveniences that shape and mold us, that mature us, that perfect us. Just like God’s Word says. We seek spectacular, thrilling experiences but it’s these experiences that most often make us more like Jesus.
When I get home, Jeff takes the kids for some adventuring, and I get a quiet hour to curl up and prayerfully write—the process that always sharpens my focus and settles me back into peace.
And that night, between 7-8pm, I’m struck by how I begin to feel dramatically better. My headache goes away, my nose clears, my throat no longer hurts. And joy rises. I sleep like a baby (with the heat on!) and wake feeling completely better.
I’m so struck by the dramatic improvement, I consider what could have happened. Then I realize:
It was Monday night. It was 7-8pm.
The time of our church’s prayer meeting.
Yes. I knew it. They were praying for us.
Wow. Gratitude wells up in my heart, I send out texts, giving thanks. He allowed the imperfections to perfect me, bit by bit, making me more like His Son. And then, by His grace, He led His people to gather in a little humble group and bring about complete healing through their faithful intercession.
God is good. All the time.
{How are imperfections perfecting you today? Thanks for reading.}
What I left behind, and why.
Hello from Redwood National Forest! Yesterday we hitched up the tent trailer, and headed out on our annual road trip down to California-Arizona-Utah. This year we got brave (and frugal) and decided that instead of renting a house we’d bring our tent trailer instead. Yup — nineteen days and 3,040 miles in a tent trailer. In the not-Summer. With temps ranging from 40s to 90s. The jury’s definitely still out on whether this is a good idea. But hey, it’s an adventure!
We spent all day Saturday packing, and it’s quite entertaining considering the things each of us chooses to carry. We’re a quirky bunch. But that’s another post for another day.
For me, packing this time was very different for me in one significant way: I brought no books. None. Other than the Bible, there isn’t a single volume along with me here.
This might not seem like a huge deal to you, but it is to me. I’m a book lover. I could read all day. And usually, vacation (especially road trips) is when I devour the stack of books I’ve been longingly looking at for moths.
Books are my life-soundtrack. I remember certain trips because of the stories I read during them. I can still remember wiping away tears as I read Same Kind of Different As Me on the flight to Hawaii. I remember laughing so hard the other passengers were staring at me as I tore through Anne Lamott’s Bird by Bird. I remember The Glass Castle on the beach, and Half the Sky in Maui and Animal, Vegetable, Miracle in the bench-seat of my dad’s truck. So many laughs and tears and the stories, pages, words, they have shaped so many seasons, especially on vacation.
But recently, I’ve sensed the Father urging me to push aside the stack of books. For one, it seems they are coming at me at an alarming rate. I just feel like there are so many books it can feel like a never-ending onslaught of book recommendations and “you HAVE to read” and “can’t wait to get my hands on” and I just. Cannot. Keep. Up.
Please hear my heart. I have loved these recommendations. I’m grateful for every moment spent savoring these words. But on our last camping trip of the summer, I was reading yet another great book, and it was relating the author’s journey of feeling frenzied, busy, overworking and neglecting her family. She was working on slowing down and enjoying the moment.
On the one hand, I couldn’t really relate that much. We’re actually not very busy. I sleep 8-9 hours a night. The kids and I stay home every weekday. I don’t feel hectic or stressed. I don’t feel driven or pushed to do more or be more. I have in years past, but not today. However, I loved the author’s honesty and transparency, and appreciated her story. So, of course, I wanted to finish the book.
But then. Here we sat, on this hidden-away beach the kids and I had found, along a beautiful lake, all by ourselves, where we picnicked and threw rocks and splashed in the water.
And they were playing happily so I pulled out my book. But immediately, it all seemed wrong. Here I was, enjoying the moment, but then I turned away in order to finish a book written to help people enjoy the moment.
Umm…?
Why not just … do it.
Then, as it were, scales seemed to fall.
I do this.
I’m a compulsive reader. 😉 I don’t feel driven or pushed in any area of my life, except that I want to read more and more, I want to know more, I want to learn more, I want to discover more so I can grow more. And you know, that’s not all bad.
But why not just … do it.
Do what I already know to do. I don’t need another voice telling me something I already know. I don’t need to read the latest book on prayer as much as I just need … to pray.
Maybe I don’t need another thing. Maybe I just need fewer things.
Fewer words. Fewer pages. Just for now.
Because maybe I need to read the moment. Maybe I need to read their faces. I need to read His writing on the wall and the sound of birds and the way the colors change from Portland to Phoenix and back. Maybe I need to pour out more words from my heart instead of stuffing so many in.
So for now, He’s telling me to read the moment, enjoy it, soak it up, live it, then write it. Reading is so much safer.
It’s so much easier to ingest someone else’s story than to live–and tell–your own.
But writing, for me, requires courage. It requires me to do something more than just regurgitate someone else’s thoughts. I have to feel this day and their faces and read into each moment. I have to engage and then articulate.
I have to offer something of myself out for all to see.
And risk that even though there are already too many words out in this world (*smile*) it’s still worth while to add a few of my own.
So, for this trip, I left books behind. We’ll be embarking on some varied adventures–everything from National Parks to a Bethel conference to a Half-Ironman triathlon. And of course, plenty of mishaps and memorable moments in between. So I’ll be sharing bits and pieces along the way. I hope some can be a blessing or encouragement to you, in some way.
{With so many words out there, thanks for reading these.}