More Underlined Bits...

It is that time of year. Time to, once again, go through the few books that have utterly shaped my life. (My Bible is a given - read daily. I read two chapters in the Old Testament, one Psalm, the Proverbs chapter that corresponds to the day of the month, and one New Testament chapter every day...well, 90% of all my days. This has been my habit for many years now, and nothing has served me more than this daily reading, that almost always turns to meditation, and then prayer.)

Other than God's word, there are only a handful of books that have shaped me. You must bear in mind (please) that I am a voracious reader, who easily completes a small to average-length book every week, sometimes more than one. Therefore, it is saying something for me, who has read probably many hundreds of books in my adult life, to be able to so easily identify the books that have forged my spiritual shape , as the anvil shapes red-hot iron.



You and I are different. (I have such a firm grasp of the obvious!) So I never expect that the same book that deeply affects me will do the same for you. You and I are two very different souls, with different histories, and different rates of growth in grace. But, once in awhile, I do get asked which books have influenced me most - and I always want to know the same about my own spiritual leaders and heroes and heroines...incidentally, I do have a few. Everyone oughtta have a few men and women in the faith, past and present, to whom they look for inspiration. We are all a product of our input, and what we most admire, we tend to become. I am careful about who I admire - as are you, I am sure, if you are wise.

I am even more careful about the books I allow to shape me.

Once again (I mentioned this in a previous post) the best books are re-read. You read the best books more than once. In all subsequent readings, you always underline. Then you annotate. You digest and doodle and date the pages. Your best books then become a sort of journal, where your spiritual growth is chronicled.



Some underlined bits from Watchman Nee's "The Release of the Spirit":



"Our mental strength is limited. If we exhaust it on the things of the flesh, we shall find ourselves mentally inadequate for the things of the Spirit."



"Before your outward man (Note: in Nee's context, this means our will, emotions, the "self") is broken, you are occupied with your own things. You walk in your own way. You love your own people. If God wants to use your love, in loving the brethren, He must first break your outward man. Your love is thereby enlarged."



"All that comes to us is allowed by God. To us as Christians, nothing is accidental."

"You cannot use your independent mind or personal feelings to discern people."

"Whatever is left untouched in us, will be untouched in others. We cannot help others in areas which we ourselves have not learned the lessons before God."

"The more we spare ourselves, the less will be our usefulness. If we have spared something in ourselves, we cannot touch it in others. Our spirit is released according to the degree of our brokenness. The one who has accepted the most discipline is the one who best can serve."

"Wherever we save ourselves, it is at that very place where we become spiritually useless."

"You may learn ten years' lessons in one year, or you may take twenty or thirty years to learn one year's lessons. Any delay in learning means a delay in serving."

While I would not hand this book to anyone struggling with legalism, it nevertheless is a work that has utterly undone me, over and over, with unfailingly positive results. As I read, and each time I read, the fear of the Lord settles fresh upon my spirit, I trust my "natural self" less and less, I trust God's breaking in my life more and more...and life springs forth.

With all gentleness and as much meekness as I have learned of Christ up to this point in my journey, I ask you: In what areas do you permit yourself to have your own opinion? Do you pick and choose your obedience to God's Word and ways? Can you pinpoint an area in which you are constantly "preserving" or "saving" yourself? Are there situations in which you consistently say, "I can't do this"? And then you truly do not do it? Do you indulge your own weaknesses?

We all do it, dear one. But marvel not, and make no mistake: God is after that very thing. And He is relentless. You can experience ten years' growth in a year, in that very area. Or you can take twenty years to grow, when it could have taken but one. Grace says the choice is yours to make. The Father will love you all the same. But God will order your circumstances, and bring you back and back and back again until you decrease, and He increases - until you are less "yourself" and more like Him - until you stop sparing yourself the pain, and you choose to lose your life, that you might find it.

If this leaves you feeling a little undone...join me in allowing it. You are utterly secure, and your obedience to God doesn't make Him love or accept you more. But your obedience does release the Spirit of God to burst forth from your broken vessel, and the fragrance of Christ permeates your atmosphere, and the lives of others are blessed. Isn't that what love is all about? Oh beloved! It is NOT about us. It is about HIM. Let's let the breaking of our outer man happen.

"He being dead, yet speaketh." Thank you, Mr. Watchman Nee.

Surprised by Joy ~

Yes, two blogs in one day. I'm inspired. That's why.

Surely the devil and his minions conspire against a man and his wife taking a long drive whilst singing James Taylor tunes. At sunset. It makes for joy, and joy infuses a spirit with strength for the coming year.

I'm a big fan of C.S. Lewis' "Screwtape Letters". In these "letters", we get insight into the wiles of the devil, and all the various and incredibly prosaic ways in which he seeks to devour us. And the biggest way he seeks to destroy us, is to steal our simple pleasures. I think long walks, long drives to nowhere in particular, soul-healing music, and kissing your spouse, are a few things the devil fears most - if a believer indulges long in these, he or she may find joy in the journey, and thus become wildly strong in the Lord.

I watched the sun set on the very first day of 2009. And I watched it while taking a long drive to nowhere in particular with my Dearest One, both of us singing "How Sweet It Is To Be Loved By You" alongside our digital troubadour, James Taylor.

We came home feeling so refreshed. So strengthened. We came home, convinced that we are so deeply and profoundly creatures of spirit. And we didn't even try to be spiritual.

A C.S. Lewis quote: "Many things--such as loving, going to sleep, or behaving unaffectedly--are done worst when we try hardest to do them."

Three things that are the most important to our quality of life - sleep, love, and healthy, Godly choices - are best done without trying to do them. This reminds me of what Oswald Chambers said, "All true holiness is unconscious holiness."

In 2009, I want to let the music play. I want to take long walks and long drives, with no particular agenda. I want to kiss my husband and love my family without guile and affected affection. I want to be a non-manipulator of my loved ones and my circumstances.

I want God's life to live large in me, unhindered by my puny efforts. I want to live in grace - that place, where all the best things are best accomplished when I don't even try hard.

This is my anti-resolution New Year's Resolution.

Happy New Year!

A brand, spanking-new year. (Anyone know the history behind the expression "spanking new"? I'd be interested to hear it. Ahem.)

I've been relaxing, as is my New Year's Day practice. I'm watching football games, and cooking up what I hope will be the most delicious pot of white bean soup.

Making it up as I went along, I was rinsing and sorting the beans, rough-chopping some sundried tomatoes, red onion, and garlic. I debated with myself as to whether I wanted to add what is left of my home-made chicken broth...but it is frozen solid in my freezer. I opted not to, saving that good, good broth for another soup for another day. I'm thinking I'll add some fresh rosemary towards the end of cooking - just a bit, for extra flavor. Rosemary smells just like Christmas. While I am at it, I might even make a fresh arrangement with lots of rosemary, branches from my sweet olive bush, and some red berries. It is that sort of day.

As I was dreaming up this particular white-bean-soup-recipe, I decided to google "white bean soup". It is downright lovely, sometimes, what one can discover, just googling and lolly-blogging about. In the interests of gracious generosity (every good blog should be shared with others!) I ran across this gem:

www.graciousbowl.com

Do pay them a visit. Of course, I'll be leaving an encouraging comment. Gracious bloggers always do.

If you are at all a soup lover, you won't be disappointed by this blog. Trying their white bean and Italian sausage soup is on my list of fun things to do next week. Seeing the fresh spinach resting on the top, absolutely sold me. I just gotta try that recipe. (Yes, they photograph their cooking experiments - how fun is that?)

Have a prosperous New Year, to all my new friends. I'm thinking of Chris...Jamie (how I have come to love you!)...Dan...Senora Smith...Jul...Lydia Joy...Caryn in New York...and more. Happy New Year to my old friends - Donna Jean, Kim Neve, Donna Conner, and so many more who visit me here on my blog from time to time.

Most of all, a happy and prosperous New Year to my church family - of whom my own dear parents are now, as of one month ago, new members. My life can't get much more blessed and full and complete. I can die a happy woman.

Well, I can die happy after we find my other twin daughter a fi - i - ne (hear the southern drawl) man of God.




Of course, her heavenly Father will do the finding. I'm just kidding when I say "we'll have to find him".

I do know this: nothing short of an on-fire, brutally handsome, leader-of-a-man, who is already about the business of the Kingdom of God, who knows exactly what he wants and pursues it, will make that daughter of mine happy. She deserves nothing short of the best...he's out there somewhere! How exciting! Will 2009 be the year? (She's so gonna kill me.) She's in no hurry; she's fiesty and happy and picky and can afford to be picky. I'm the one who needs to know that I can die happy...just in case. Nobody is guaranteed to be on planet earth, this time next year.

And no one should get married until they find the one whom they can fulfill their divine destiny better WITH that person, than without them. No one should get married until the time is right - when what needs to be done in God's kingdom requires the talents and gifts of BOTH to accomplish. Marriage is so much more than sanctified sex, or a comfortable, expected, and socially acceptable arrangement.
No one should get married until they find the one who can make them laugh; until they find the one who is so very easy to be with. The one who leaves happiness in his or her wake. Few things are more important.
But that's another blog for another day. I'll let this one be about soup and the New Year.

"Selah..."


2008 will be a memory, in three short hours from the time I write this. And mercifully so. Midwinter is now upon me. I am hearing the Lord whisper, "Come aside, beloved..."


The winter season lends itself so well to the urge to contemplate. I love New Year's Eve and New Year's Day for that very reason - the brief down time. For me, down time inevitably gives way to an original idea. I need the chance, by now, to pull in and center down and simply think my own thoughts. Contemplation is a lost art. I sincerely believe the devil has issued his "order from headquarters" that all Christians be kept, at all costs, from gazing idly out the window at falling snow. If I spend adequate time doing that, I might have a "Selah moment."


"Selah" is that Hebrew word you've read many times in the Psalms of David and in the book of Habakkuk. The word appears in the Bible over 70 times. One old theologian contends that it is a name of God. One thing we do know, this word appears only in poetry - the poetry of song. Often, it was an indication to change pitch, in order to emphasize what was to come next in the song.


To do this, to change pitch, meant the harpist had to pause long enough to re-tune his harp to a new octave. Generally, it is accepted that "Selah" means to "Pause, and deeply consider".


You and I need to pause. You and I need a bit of down time. The Lord will call you and I aside, so that He can tune our heart-strings to the next octave. What is on the horizon, what comes next in the song of our lives, means our pitch cannot be the same as it was in 2008. A change is needed. When God brings new direction, it becomes necessary to set aside some time to re-tune. Don't rush into the next verse of your song, still plunking your harp on the same old octave. It won't work. Instead....Selah.


Stop.


As I take stock of the year gone by, and the year just ahead, I compare where I am today to where I was a year ago. In many ways, this brings me to my knees because the Mighty God hath done great things for me. In other ways, this contemplation fills me with a terrible ache, because something or someone is missing from my life that was there just one short year ago.


Still. The response is the same. To my knees I go because His name is to be blessed and praised.


Regardless of whether the silence of the Selah brings us joy or pain, let's never allow a devilish conspiracy of distraction keep us from our "pause, and deeply consider." The wisdom of God waits in the wings, silently. The thoughts of God are not easily gathered, they are buried treasure. He longs for us to sing a new song to Him, but first He must give us the words and the tune.


A song is not a song without the pauses. The poem of your life cannot be read properly without stopping in the right places. A life cannot be well lived in perpetual motion.


Selah, my friend.


Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh....

...And The Evening and The Morning Were The First Day...

And God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And the evening and the morning were the first day. (Ge. 1: 5)

From the Genesis of the sun, moon, earth, and human kind, God set it in place that each day is to begin at sundown. We think of a day as beginning each morning, just before or as the sun comes up. How very human of us...to believe that the day starts with our own conscious effort, and must needs end when we fall asleep. Not so, in God's schedule. On His clock (and accurately believed by practicing Jews), the day begins when we reach the end of our human energy, the sun goes down, and we stop to rest.

I watched the sun sink behind the trees this night. The sky was a water color masterpiece of pastel softness. Puffs of clouds dotted the horizon, and a natural sense of peace began to settle across my heart. I have always been drawn to this, my very favorite time of day. I try not to miss a sunset. I like to believe that my love for "the golden hour" of sunset has both spiritual and philosophical implications. Grace is put on vivid display, every single day at sundown. When my work is done, when I am finished, God is just getting started.

The day begins just as "I" end. Through no effort of my own, and in fact when I go to sleep, the Father is unfolding His plan for the next 24 hours, going before me into the already-new day, accomplishing His objective. God gives to His beloved, even in her sleep, the Psalm says.

Dear one! Go to sleep tonight. Rest. Lay your head upon your pillow, knowing that it is a new day, and all of heaven is going into motion on your behalf, and you needn't do a thing but close your eyes.

Now the hand of the LORD was upon me in the evening... (Ez. 33: 22)

God Rest Ye Merry!

I've always wanted to greet people I care about in this way at Christmas time: "God rest ye merry, my friend."

For many years, I never understood that old carol, "God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen". It originates all the way back to the middle ages, and was written in old English. In those days, "merry" didn't mean "happy" as it does now. In those days, "merry" meant "mighty". A great and powerful king was a "merry" king, and a great and terrible army was a "merry" army.


"Rest" didn't mean to put your feet up, nor did it mean that you took a nap. "Rest" meant, in old English, "to keep in a continual state of".


"God keep you in a continual state of might and strength, gentlemen, let nothing you dismay. Remember Christ our Savior was born on Christmas day, to save us all from satan's power when we had gone astray.

Oh, tidings of comfort and joy! Comfort and joy! Oh tidings of comfort and joy!"

This Christmas, I've been smitten over and over with the simple statement of a great heavenly host. There...filling the heavens...Jehovah Sabaoth, Lord of the Hosts, sent His great host to break centuries and centuries of silence between God and men. God could have commissioned them to say anything. These ministers of His, this great, innumerable host, are as flames of fire, carrying out His Word, down to the smallest detail. They've declared war before, down throughout human history - lots of times.

Would this be that sort of message?

God could have instructed His hosts to give only the facts: "Messiah is here."

He could have sent a message of judgement.

God dropped a bomb, to be sure. He dropped a bomb that would forever make that field in Bethlehem the greatest, most utterly meaningful, most famous "ground zero" of all time. But it was an explosion of joy.

The Grace Message was finally detonated.

A blast of mercy, engulfing the planet. Into the black of the night, into the darkness of our human spirit, came the bright light of Good News. It was tidings of comfort and joy. Jehovah Sabaoth utilized His great host, He sent the mightiest, "merriest" troops in the universe to tell us, "YEAY!" and to promptly throw a party amongst the stars, in full view of a few shepherds.

"Glory to God in the highest, and on earth, Peace....Goodwill....to men."

Peace.

Goodwill.

Let it sink in. Let those two words be the good news they were meant to be. Your very own tidings of comfort and joy.

Merry Christmas, dear ones. God rest ye merry...

Winter Solstice

Tonight, December 21st, marks the longest night of the year. For some reason, the whole idea of the longest, deepest, darkest night of the year, always grips my heart, and makes me turn thoughtful and quiet inside. The winter solstice is the beginning of winter, which, with all the somewhat dismal implications that come with the long winter season, actually marks the precise day, after which the sunlight hours begin to grow longer, minute by minute, day by day.

My husband finds that whole idea thrilling. He lives for spring, and relishes the thought of lengthening days.

One of my favorite Christmas songs is "In The Bleak Midwinter". I find the melody to be hauntingly beautiful, and the whole song is a refreshing departure from some of the saccharine-sweet ditties of this season. Of all the artists who have contributed their renditions of this old song, I love James Taylor's and Amy Grant's the best. If you know of a better remake of "In The Bleak Midwinter", do pass it on to me, I'd love to give it a listen.

Many parts of our country are experiencing "snow on snow on snow"...not us here in Tennessee. I'd love to see a white Christmas, but alas, again this year it is not to be.

But enfolded and tucked deeply into this day, implied in this, the longest night of the year, is impending spring. Things really do get darkest just before dawn. There is so much hope in the gospel of Jesus Christ, and it truly is written into nature itself.

Worship God Incarnate with me this week!