Lesson from Lemmon

I have been wanting to spend time up on Mt. Lemmon for awhile now. I love the ocean, but I also love being in the woods, and Mt. Lemmon is at an elevation of 9157 ft. so even though it's just 45 minutes away from home, it feels like a completely different world...not a cactus in sight.

The last time I was on the mountain was a year ago, with some of the same people. Each year, IRC Tucson shuts down for a day and the staff has a retreat. It's a day of hanging out, eating way too much food, and playing wacky games for the sheer joy of being silly and laughing together. (It was a bonus that my team won today...huzzah!!) I love the sense of camaraderie this kind of gathering builds. We come down the mountain more bonded and ready to dive in for another year.

That being said, I still really long for a day "up there" by myself where I can leisurely stroll on trails and ponder life, the universe and everything... and bring all of my concerns before God in the midst of His creation. I was able to steal a few moments of that today, and it was like warm oil to my aching soul. The temperature was perfect (neither hot nor cold), the sky was crystal clear, and the scent of pine trees filled the air. I must go back and soak up more of that and soon, before it gets cold. Shivering my way along trails is NOT my idea of a good time.

Anyway, I spent a little time staring at an empty creek bed, imagining it full of rushing water (oh, how I love that sound!). I wondered if there would ever be enough rainfall to fill the creek again; I wondered if the rocks longed for the water or if they were content to be laid bare for however long the dry season would last. Or maybe it's both-and?

Hmm....

Midnight Reflections

Midnight is an interesting time -- it's that moment between days...no longer Tuesday but not quite Wednesday.

This current season of life feels a lot like midnight...hanging in the balance...no longer what it was but not yet what it will be. There are a lot of unknowns; questions hang in the air, answers still to come. And when the answers come, life might start moving at break-neck speed.

The challenge for me is to be content in this midnight season...to not look back or ahead too much. I need to "be still and know..." To keep surrendering (as I wrote earlier) in the moment, and know that the next moment will come in due time.

So I will put head to pillow now, at midnight, and rest.

Beloved

My friend, Randy Chase, quoted Henri Nouwen on his blog recently and I had to steal it and post it here. Henry Nouwen was a Dutch priest and prolific author who passed away several years ago. It is one of my life's goals to read everything he ever wrote...his writing touches me so deeply. The passage Randy quoted speaks so clearly my heart, especially for those in emotional pain. Many of us wrestle with lies and judgments from our childhood and I know the Lord wants to eradicate those things with His truth. Let's allow these words to soak deep into our souls. I needed this today. Blessings to all of you "out there" who need this, too!!!

From Life of the Beloved: Spiritual Living In a Secular World:

"Ever since you asked me to write for you and your friends about the spiritual life, I have been wondering if there might be one word I would most want you to remember when you finished reading all I wish to say. Over the past year, that special word has gradually emerged from the depths of my own heart. It is the word "Beloved," and I am convinced that it has been given to me for the sake of you and your friends.

Being a Christian, I first learned this word from the story of Jesus of Nazareth. "No sooner had Jesus come up out of the water than he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit, like a dove, descending on him. And a voice came from heaven: "You are my Son, the Beloved; my favor rests on you'" (Matt. 3:16-17; Mark 1:10-11; Luke 3:21-22): For many years I had read these words and even reflected upon them in sermons and lectures, but it is only since our talks in New York that they have taken on a meaning far beyond the boundaries of my own tradition. Our many conversations led me to the inner conviction that the words "You are my Beloved" revealed the most intimate truth of all human beings, whether they belong to any particular tradition or not.

...all I want to say to you is "You are the Beloved," and all I hope is that you can hear these words as spoken to you with all the tenderness and force that love can hold. My only desire is to make these words reverberate in every corner of your being - "You are the Beloved."...Yes, there is that voice, the voice that speaks from above and from within and that whispers softly or declares loudly: "You are my Beloved, on you my favor rests." It certainly is not easy to hear that voice in a world filled with voices that shout: "You are no good, you are ugly; you are worthless; you are despicable, you are nobody - unless you can demonstrate the opposite."

"These negative voices are so loud and so persistent that it is easy to believe them. That's the great trap. It is the trap of self-rejection. Over the years, I have come to realize that the greatest trap in our life is not success, popularity, or power, but self-rejection. Success, popularity, and power can, indeed, present a great temptation, but their seductive quality often comes from the way they are part of the much larger temptation to self-rejection. When we have come to believe in the voices that call us worthless and unlovable, then success, popularity, and power are easily perceived as attractive solutions. The real trap, however, is self-rejection. I am constantly surprised at how quickly I give in to this temptation. As soon as someone accuses me or criticizes me, as soon as I am rejected, left alone, or abandoned, I find myself thinking: "Well, that proves once again that I am a nobody." Instead of taking a critical look at the circumstances or trying to understand my own and others' limitations, I tend to blame myself - not just for what I did, but for who I am. My dark side says: "I am no good...I deserve to be pushed aside, forgotten, rejected, and abandoned...." (Pages 29-33.)

I hope you know today that God calls you His beloved, that He wants you to come closer to Him...and... that all the voices that say otherwise are untrue.

Surrender

growing up, giving up
dying, dying
honestly, Lord
sometimes i don't feel like trying
anymore, but You beckon
and i come, crying
'cause the right thing feels wrong
and the wrong thing feels right
guess that's why
i must walk by faith
and not by sight
not living by feelings
but on what i know to be true
not living for me
but living for You
------------------

"Put your hands up in the air!" How many times have I seen that on various police/detective shows? The lifting of one's hands demonstrates complete submission to whatever authority is present, relinquishing control to that authority, no matter the circumstances. I'm grateful God doesn't shout angrily at me to surrender, but life with Him does come with that command, doesn't it? And yet, obeying His commands is always a choice. He loves me enough to not wave a gun at me, but to give me free will to choose to trust that He knows what's best.

I love raising my hands in worship. When my shoulders aren't hurting, I love to raise my hands high. Often I am doing this as a child raises her arms to her Daddy, but more often I am raising my hands in worship as an act of surrender: not my will, Lord, but Yours; You are God and I'm not; You are in control; I give You control in this moment, again, of everything in my life...the good, the bad, the ugly, the pain, the joys, the struggles...EVERYTHING.

This past year has been a season of deepening surrender; I've had to let go of things I never even imagined I'd have to consider giving up: my marriage -- which would have been quite enough, thank you. But wait! There's more!; a childhood friend who came back into my life at precisely the wrong time; the church family I have loved and have been part of for the past nine years; the two ministries which allowed me to operate in my gifts, calling and passions; my health (which seems to be getting progressively worse); my adult children, especially my younger son who has found his calling far away in Australia; one of my best friends who is moving away to another state. Needless to say, I am feeling completely stripped on all fronts.

So far the only thing that is being given back to me is my marriage, and that is HUGE and wonderful and I am very grateful for what God did and continues to do in our lives. Yet even that needs daily surrendering to God's plan and will. It took so much for me to fully let go of it, and it has taken an equal amount of surrendering for me to completely grab hold of it again.

But what the Lord is ultimately asking of me is to grab hold of HIM completely, and to trust HIM completely. To fix my eyes on HIM and not my circumstances, and to take things as they come, one day at a time. To bring Him whatever pain I am feeling and be honest with Him about it, and yet not let it rule me or define me.

I wish I could say this has been easy. Instead, it's been a constant slogging in my soul, and I am weary; exhausted is more like it. But below that is peace. And assurance. And deep trust that He is working all things together for good and for His purposes. I can't see it yet, but that's OK. Hence, walking by faith and not by sight...with His Word a lamp to my feet and a light to my path.

When someone asks the ubiquitous question, "How are you?" I am never really sure what to say. I guess the most honest answer would be, "Surrendered."

The Ever-Fixed Mark

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken...

That's the beginning of Shakespeare's Sonnet #116. The first time I heard it was in the movie "Sense and Sensibility," which I have begun to watch for the umpteenth time. One of my favorite films ever.

I am loving the movie, as always, but this time with a bittersweet cringe. (Great name for a band?) I'm far too much like Marianne. But she learns...and I learn.

I love the romance of this sonnet, but ultimately, the ever-fixed mark in my life is Jesus...the Lover of my Soul. Oh how easily I "bend with the remover" which is usually my own flesh...my own faithless heart. I realize all-too late that an idol has a grip on me and I on it. And "it" can even be something good...something God-given. But Jesus wants to be First and He seems to be in the business of making this abundantly clear to me. So He pries my fingers off the things onto which I grasp and it hurts to let go. Like Marianne, I feel my feelings so deeply...right down to my toes...and before I know it, my emotional pores start oozing...sometimes beyond my control, it seems. Then I lose sight of my Ever-Fixed Mark; I can make Him out in the haze, but just barely.

What a patient Lover is He. He beckons. He waits. He beckons. He waits. And finally I come running, grateful for the Everlasting Arms that enfold me and the outstretched hands I can now grab since I am no longer clinging to something else. He forgives me, creates in me a clean heart and restores my joy. He lifts me out of the miry clay and places my feet on a rock and puts a new song in my heart.

And I learn once again that He is never shaken by the tempests of my soul.