faith

Plans…

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For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

Jeremiah 29:11 NIV

I have blogged about this passage before. But never in the context of Christmas. This is not one of the classic Christmas prophecies. But it could be. After all, what is Jesus if not God’s plan to give us a hope and a future?

Today I am thinking about this text because of a conversation I had this morning. It was one of those moments when God lets you see all the ways he has been working his plans for you and for the people in the community where you serve – plans to prosper you and not to harm you, to give you a hope and a future. That doesn’t happen all the time, but when it does, it is beautiful to a shocking degree. I have been grinning all day, each time I thought of it.

I have known and loved this verse for years, but today it has taken on a deeper meaning for me. It has become the living word of God, instead of ‘just’ a good reminder. On the one hand, I know to put my trust in God. Of course I know that. I know that God has plans for me. I know that God has good plans for my future. But it is one thing to know it intellectually, and quite another to experience it full-force.

It must have been a little bit like that for Mary that first Christmas. When she finally held her baby in her arms and just KNEW that everything she had been through – the raised eyebrows at her pregnancy, the moment when Joseph told her he’d thought of calling off their engagement, the long, difficult journey to Bethlehem – had been part of God’s plan to change the world forever. I wonder if she remembered this bit from the scroll of Jeremiah as she held her little boy.

My prayer for us all, this Christmas, is that God would reveal His plan and how he’s been working it in each of our lives. My prayer is that we might be touched not by the intellectual notion of hope, but by the living truth of our hope in Jesus Christ. My prayer is that God’s plans would continue to take on flesh and dwell among us.

Fear vs. Faith

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I am pretty tired right now and more than a little thick-headed. It seems I’ve managed to pick up my first cold of the season. I am hopeful that with enough rest (and perhaps a few prayers from those who read my blogs), I will be in the mend by the end of the week.

In the meantime, I have been thinking a lot about fear vs. faith. I love the above saying, because I believe it to be true. Personally, I find it easier to be fearful than bold or full of faith. I know this about myself, and so I am constantly battling my tendency towards fear. I battle it by reminding myself of what the Bible says and what I have experienced of God’s power in my life. I battle it by singing songs of praise and being in community with others who share my faith. I battle of by feeding my faith rather than my fear.

Sometimes the battle against fear goes well and I find myself amazed at the strength God gives me. Other times I find myself feeding my fear, and I need the reminder that there isn’t room for both fear and faith in my mind/heart/spirit.

Church can be tough. I love my church, but we are far from perfect. We make mistakes and we face difficult circumstances.

But we are called to be people of faith not people of fear.

So may you find new ways each day to feed your faith. May you know that there is not room for both to reside in you. May you tap into the Source of all hope and find that through Him your faith is growing and your fear is failing.

Plans…

Some people are good at living life in the moment. They don’t feel a need to plan the details and they love to do things in the spur of the moment.

I am not one of those people. I like to plan all the details. I like to have thought through the possible outcomes. I like to have back ups to my back ups.

But one thing that life has taught me is that though I may plan diligently, some things will not go according to plan. That’s the way it was in a meeting I had this evening. It did not go according to the plan I had made.

But you know what? I believe that it was one of the most significant and powerful meetings I’ve had with this group since we started meeting together. It may have not been my plan, but I have no doubt at all that it was God’s plan. He knew the conversation we would have tonight, and He knows what fruit it will bear.

And I am grateful for the reminder of this verse:

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future…

Jeremiah 29:11

God is so good.

So it begins…

The weekend got away from me. There was so much to do and so little time, it seemed. And in the midst of it all, I never did find a quiet moment during which I could put out my nativity set. That quiet moment finally arrived tonite.

After all the hustle and bustle of the day was over, after I’d had my nightly phone call with my Mom, after the puppy had finally been fed, there was time. No plans, no emails that had to be sent, no chores that had to be done. Just time.

So I loaded my “Everything Christmas” playlist onto my iPhone and set it into its speakers. And as some of my favorite Christmas music began to play, began to unpack my set from its boxes. This is a favorite ritual of mine.

I first saw my nativity set in a store window in the Pickering Town Centre mall, when my parents and I lived in that city. It stopped me dead in my tracks and my Father (with whom I was running errands) had to come back to get me. And we spent a few minutes together, still in the midst of the bustling mall, marveling at how these figures told the story with beauty and simplicity. And how we could still be struck silent by the story these figures told.

A few Christmases later, my Mom and Dad bought me the first pieces in my set. For a couple of Christmases they added to it, until the whole set was mine. Every time I take it out of its boxes I am reminded of the reason for this season. And I am reminded of the faithfulness of my parents, who taught me the story of God’s saving love coming to earth in the form of a helpless baby.

This is the beginning of my Advent season. This is the beginning of all the preparations, all the decorating, all the little steps that will lead to the celebration of Christmas 2012. For me, in this quiet, worship-ful moment, it has begun very well.

The whole set (and stockings for me, Koski and Spot).
The centre piece.
The Wise Men.
A shepherd and some animals.

Identity…

One of my favorite things about going to a conference is discovering new things. Whether it’s a new band, or a new speaker or a new author or a new perspective on an old story that Jesus told. Doesn’t matter, I just love discovering that I don’t know everything there is to know in my faith.

This year I discovered Jon Acuff.  He’s a blogger, so I had to like him, right? He was also a great speaker. He didn’t speak for long (maybe 15min, while the big guns got 45min), but his talk stands out to me as one of the most influential things I heard at Catalyst. I’m sure I’ll blog about him more than once.

But what is on my mind tonite is something Acuff said about the Prodigal Son. I loved that he used THAT story as his teaching Scripture, as it is one God has used to shape my life in powerful ways. Acuff zeroed in at one point on that moment when the prodigal returns home, and he has this whole speech prepared to say to his father. He’s going to admit what he did wrong, and then he’s going to ask his Dad to make him like one of the hired men. Only, he never gets to give the whole speech. He admits that he was wrong, and then he is cut off by his loving Father who just wants to throw a party because his Son is home.

Now, here’s where it gets interesting. Acuff said that the reason the son never got to give the “make me like one of the hired men” part of his speech, is that none of his experiences during his ‘wild living’ days could change his identity.  His identity was already set. No amount of squandering could change the fact that he was a son.

And it is the same for us. We are children of the King, sons and daughters of the Living God. And God will not ever, cannot ever, make us like one of the hired men. That is not who we are.

No matter how bad we screw up, no matter how broken we become, no matter how many failures we wrack up. We are still children of the King.

I need to know that. I need to hear it over and over again, because there is a very human part of me that wonders – always and eternally – if I am enough. I have to tell you, it is hard for me to admit that. I am struggling right this second to NOT delete that sentence. I kind of want to.

But the thing is…it’s the truth. And it is the reason I found Acuff’s teaching on this old, beloved parable so life-giving. Seriously. That is the story I want to shout from the rooftops. That is the truth I want to give my life to. That is the one thing I want to tell everyone: you are a child of the King, and all your squandering will NEVER change that. Your identity is set. You are enough.

And Jesus died so that your identity would never ever change. You are a child of the King.

 

 

Autumn and inconsistent…

I often think of Fall as my favorite season. Unless you count Christmas, which I totally do – but that is my favorite because of twinkling lights and sparkly bows and beautiful carols and the birth of the Savior…not because of weather and what is happening out in the natural world.

Today I was running an errand and I saw the first kiss of fall color in a stand of trees. It just made me grin. I do love fall, but I think what I love even more than fall itself is the change of seasons. That shift as Summer morphs into Fall or Winter melts into Spring. That in-between-time when the previous season still makes an occasional appearance even as we are surrounded by signs of the new season.

It’s strange, because often I have such trouble with change. But when it comes to the seasons there seems to be such possibility and mystery in the changes. Sure, sometimes at this time of year you find yourself caught without a jacket on a day when it turns out that you really need one, or wearing too many layers on a day that Summer decided to pop back up. Sometimes the change surprises you. But there is beauty in the unexpected.
And in the midst of a change of season I find myself delighted by the unforeseen changes in the weather.

Now, if only I could translate that attitude to the unexpected things that happen in all avenues of life. Unfortunately, I am more annoyed than overjoyed when life throws me a curve ball. I find in-between-times full of frustration rather than expectation and mystery. I think – and this will come to no surprise to those of you who know me well – I want to be in control when it comes to change in the broad strokes of life.

When it comes to the weather, to the change of seasons, I’m well aware that I have no say in what will happen, so I don’t worry too much about it.

It’s a healthier attitude, especially for a Christian. I know that God is at work in this world. I know that He has a plan and I believe that His plan is for the good of us all. I believe His plan has to do with redemption and deliverance and new life. I can say all of that with confidence and with a still small voice in the center of my being whispering “it’s true, it’s true, it’s true…” So why can’t I have the attitude towards the changes in life that I have towards the change of season?

The answer is quite simple. I’m human. I’m fallen. I’m inconsistent. I’m in need of a savior. Thank God I have one.

Light for the Lost Boy…

My favorite singer/songewriter is a fellow preacher’s-kid by the name of Andrew Peterson. His songs about faith with their insightful lyrics, soft acoustic style and passion for Jesus, have informed my faith for the past decade.

I have never met the man, but I think of him as a friend. One who has chided and goaded and lead me to a deeper understanding of my faith and of the human condition in general. He has made me laugh, brought a tear to my eye, and sung what I wanted to say better than I could say it.

So I am excitedly looking forward to the release of his new studio album, Light for the Lost Boy, at the end of August. I was delighted to sign into FaceBook this morning and find that his record company has allowed him to share the cover art for the new album.

The art is by Katie Moore who has done album artwork for Ingrid Michaelson and Starfield, among others. I find the art for Andrew’s new album haunting and beautiful:

 

I want to go on that walk with that lost boy and his lantern. I want to breathe deep and take in the woods that surround us, feeling secure by the light of the lantern.

Most of all, I want to hear the songs that inspired this cover. August 28th cannot come fast enough.

 

 

Messing up…

It’s been a tough week for me Weight-Watchers-wise. On the one hand I’ve had awesome success with Weight Watchers over the past year. On the other hand it has been a frustrating game of one-step-forward-two-steps-back since about January. If I have lost anything since then (and whether or not I have is arguable, because I have been up and down a lot), it’s been a very minor amount. Recently, I’ve found that I am letting myself get away with extra tastes and “just a pinch” of this or that.

This is not good. On the one hand, I am sticking to very healthy eating most of the time. My diet has improved leaps and bounds over this time last year. On the other hand, I have been sabotaging myself with all these little extras. This week, especially has been difficult. To the point that tonite I decided to pretty much scrap this week, understand that the scale may say something very nasty to me on Sunday, and start fresh after weigh-in on Sunday morning.

Sometimes we mess up. There’s no great reason for this slip-up on my part. I have kept my exercise up this week, I have been planning healthy meals, I have been enjoying my work and loving the weather. Perhaps this is just a culmination of some stress that has been piling up over the last several weeks. Maybe it’s emotional-jet-lag from a truly terrible week I had a few weeks back. Whatever the reason, I’ve decided to show some grace to myself.

After all, that’s what Jesus would do. That is what God has always done with us, his children. The Old Testament is full of moments when Israel messed up. When they turned away from God. When they lost the plot. And though God warned that turning away from Him meant turning away from love and life and goodness and turning towards the opposite of those things, He never stopped taking them back. The people of Israel never got to the end of God’s grace. God was always ready to take them back one more time. And when they got to the point where it might look like God was finished with them, God changed the rules of the game.

He sent his Son, to live and to die, to teach and to rise again, to break the bonds of sin and death forever and for everyone. I love that about God. This is the the thing that keeps my faith going even when I’m in a dry spell or  struggle. Because I know, no matter how badly I mess up, Christ has already paid the price for my mess-ups. God’s grace is THAT big.

So I am having grace for myself. This week, I have messed up. I recognize it, I own it, and I am sorry for it. I will be careful over the next two days and I will begin fresh with Weight Watchers on Sunday. And I will remember to be thankful that in Weight Watchers, as with God, it is never too late for a new beginning.

 

Anchored…


This has been a strange week. All my routines are out of whack. I’ve been very tired and not able to do much more exercise than the morning’s hour-long walk with Koski and our walking-partner. I had an all-day conference today, which meant I took Thursday off and worked today. My folks are in town. Things are just a little left-of-centre in my house right now.

There is nothing particularly WRONG with any of that, (well, the exercise thing upsets me, though I am feeling good about getting out to Outdoor Bootcamp tonite) but as I have said before I’m a bit of a creature of habit. When you mess with my routines, you mess with me. My blogging has also suffered this week. Call it out-of-sorts-itis.

Sometimes weeks like this come. There’s no sense in getting really bent out of shape about them when they happen. But I will admit that when a week like this comes along, I feel a little anchor-less…adrift. And it is with that sense of needing something to anchor me that I found this little passage in Hebrews extremely touching today:

…we who have fled to him for refuge can have great confidence
as we hold to the hope that lies before us.
This hope is a strong and trustworthy anchor for our souls.
It leads us through the curtain into God’s inner sanctuary.
Jesus has already gone in there for us.
He has become our eternal High Priest in the order of Melchizedek.
Hebrews 6:18b-20 NLT

Weeks like this come. Other weeks, ones in which the burdens of life seem almost unbearable, also come. There’s no sense worrying about them before they arrive. But when they do, it’s really good to have something to tether yourself to – something to hold to, as an anchor.
The Bible tells us that the hope we have in Christ – the hope that weeks like this will never have the final word – is a strong and trustworthy anchor.
All I can say to that is: Amen.

Beginnings…

I had the opportunity to start something new with some leaders from St. A’s tonite. I’m excited. I don’t know where God will lead us with this ministry, but I pray that God will be the ONE who does the leading.

This beginning may be small, but with God even small beginnings can lead to great things. Pray with me that this one does, if you would.

For I am about to do something new.
See, I have already begun! Do you not see it?
I will make a pathway through the wilderness.
I will create rivers in the dry wasteland.

Isaiah 43:19 NLT