A Fast From Felt Grace

18 02 2012
An edited journal excerpt from June 1991

In seasons when my seeking of God feels dry or dark, I feel like I’m on a kind of soul fast. I do not have a sense of felt grace that has meant so much to me at other points along the way. Of course grace is always there, but I don’t “feel” graced.

When I have been on an extended food fast in the past, my digestive system went into a kind of hibernation. Because I wasn’t giving it anything to do, it took a break and basically shut down major operations. I wonder if this soul fast is similar in any way. God doesn’t seem to be feeding my mind with inspiring thoughts, or my emotions with comforting, encouraging feelings or my will with stirring directions. Part of me seems to be in a kind of hibernation.

And the early stages of an extended fast are painful and difficult. Toxins that have built up break lose and make their way out of the body. I don’t feel well. This soul fast seems similar. Soul impurities rise to the surface of my thinking and feelings and it feels awful. Maybe God is bringing about a purification.

“Father, this dry place is a hard place for me. Help me to wait as You bring genuine satisfaction to the depths of my inner being. You are the only one I need. The false food I’ve eaten in the past has poisoned my system. Thank You for this process that is refining me. You alone can satisfy me deeply. “Whom have I in heaven but you? And earth has nothing I desire besides you…. But as for me, it is good to be near God (Psalm 73:25, 28).”

Father, You alone are my soul’s desire. It’s true…and I forget it’s true. It is truly good to be near You, even if that isn’t what I’m feeling now. You don’t feel near at all. I believe that You are faithful and true, even when I feel faithless. May Your Spirit bear the fruit of faithfulness within me. Holy Spirit, make me aware of the life of Jesus within me. Help me to glorify the Father in my every choice, thought and action.”

Reflection: How do you respond when your seeking of God does not feel as “graced” as it once did? How might God be near, even if we don’t sense Him?





The Fruit of a Dark, Dark Night

2 02 2012

An edited journal excerpt from June 1991

Job 14:14-17 NIV, “If someone dies, will they live again? 
All the days of my hard service 
I will wait for my renewalt to come. You will call and I will answer you; 
you will long for the creature your hands have made. Surely then you will count my steps 
but not keep track of my sin. My offenses will be sealed up in a bag;
 you will cover over my sin.”

In the dark night places, as John of the Cross calls them, and in what I’ve been describing as dry or waiting places, I am looking to God to take initiative. “You will call and I will answer You.” So much of my prayer is my calling, expecting His answer. This, of course, has its place in my life. But sometimes my calling isn’t done in a listening posture. I’m only listening for God’s answer to my request, and not listening more broadly for whatever it is He may wish to say.

God calls to us from a place of deep desire. He longs for the one He has made. He longs for me. Do I believe this, especially when this dry season makes God feel far away? John of the Cross says that the dark night is a place where God’s purifying, fiery love does its work in me.

This place of “hard service” is a time of waiting on God’s own renewing work in me. I don’t renew myself. I trust God to do His renewing work.

One thing that encourages me as I think of the bigger story of Job is that his season of deep testing results in an increased level of influence and leadership. “After Job had prayed for his friends, the Lord restored his fortunes and gave him twice as much as he had before. All his brothers and sisters and everyone who had known him before came and ate with him in his house. They comforted and consoled him over all the trouble the Lord had brought on him, and each one gave him a piece of silver and a gold ring. The Lord blessed the latter part of Job’s life more than the former part. He had fourteen thousand sheep, six thousand camels, a thousand yoke of oxen and a thousand donkeys.” (Job 42:10-12 NIV)

Can I find hope in this for myself? Might this trying, dry season actually be the means by which You drive my roots deeper for future seasons of greater fruitfulness? Father, I look forward to You blessing me beyond anything You have done on my behalf in the past. Thank You, Father.

God, in this season of dryness and waiting is gathering together all of my desires, my thoughts, my motivations and my energies so that He might unite them in obedience to the greatest command, “to love Him with all my heart, with all my mind, with all my soul and all my strength.” 

Click here to make any Amazon purchase in support of this blog.
This does not add to the cost of your order, but provides a referral fee to this ministry.
[Click to learn more]





Making Room For Peace

26 01 2012

An edited journal excerpt from June 1991

“And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding,
will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus (Philippians 4:7).”

I’ve been reading more in The Dark Night of the Soul by John of the Cross. The page I started with was so rich that I never turned it.

Simply put, he suggested that when God seeks to put within us a deep peace that is truly beyond our comprehension, He has to remove all traces of the peace that we can sense. When my circumstances are anything but peaceful, when conflict enters my life, when my heart is tempted to worry and concern, this is the very place where I can receive a peace that transcends all understanding.

Paul is not talking theoretically. He speaks with credibility from his prison cell. He isn’t talking about peace from a seat on the beach. He is talking about peace from a no-peace environment.

It seems God will not give us a peace beyond understanding until he removes the peace that we have come to understand. It may well be when I feel the least peace that I have opportunity to learn the deepest sort of peace in God.

Click here to make any Amazon purchase in support of this blog.
This does not add to the cost of your order, but provides a referral fee to this ministry.
[Click to learn more]





Psalm 73: Why Do Good People Have It So Bad?

15 01 2012

An edited journal excerpt from May 1991

“Whom have I in heaven but you?
And earth has nothing I desire besides you.
My flesh and my heart may fail,
but God is the strength of my heart
and my portion forever

(Psalm 73:25-26).”

I find a lot of heart echoes in this psalm as I read it. It captures a lot of what has been happening in me.

Verse 2-12 describes a deep jealousy that Asaph was experiencing over the apparent prosperity of the without-God people around him. It looks to him like many of them have it easier and are doing better than the with-God people.

In verse 13-16, Asaph expresses his frustration, feeling like he has been wasting his time being faithful to God in his way of life. Trying to living in harmony with God’s will has left him where his life feels plagued. He feels punished for doing right. Why stay in relationship with God if this is the outcome? Thankfully, he realizes that he would betray his with-God community if he took action on these frustrated feelings. (vs. 15).

Asaph was overwhelmed by the hardness of his with-God life in the face of the apparent trouble-free ease of those who sniffed their nose at God. How will he gain some perspective? Where will he find wisdom? How will he make his way through such a place? When life doesn’t seem fair, when God’s good people suffer and wicked people seem to succeed, the only place to find perspective is in the presence of God (17). In God’s presence, I see with eternal eyes. I see those living in disregard of God in His presence as well, but not standing in His favor.

Like Asaph, I will feel grieved at heart and embittered in spirit (21) in the face of such temporary unfairness. I may respond to such hardship like a brute beast, ignorant and senseless (22).

I’m invited to remember the presence of God. I’m show that I am always with God and God is always with me. I am faithfully held on to in God’s gracious favor (23) and guided by perfect and wise direction (24a). My end, unlike the desperate end of the without-God one, is in the presence of God’s glory (24b).

Rather than letting my grief embitter me as I seek to remain in God in the hard places, I can recognize the lasting reality that only God can truly, deeply satisfy me to the depths of my being (25). The ways the world around me tries to satisfy the soul aren’t enough for me. This is a reality I must face and a choice I must make. My heart and my body may be weak, but God is my strength in all of this (26a). He is my portion—all that I need (26b). What is truly best for me is the simple nearness of God. (28). God is my refuge.

When I find myself in dry places, I often feel tempted to envy the what I see as a life of ease for others around me. God, help me remember that the dryness is helping me remember that nothing in creation is big enough to satisfy my soul. Being near You is my only source of true satisfaction. 

Click here to make any Amazon purchase in support of this blog.
This does not add to the cost of your order, but provides a referral fee to this ministry.
[Click to learn more]





Stamina in the Desert Places

26 07 2011

How does God go about increasing our spiritual stamina, extending our persevering faithfulness and enriching our grace-orientation in relation to Himself and others? He does so by pressing us past what we thought were our limits, by making faithfulness more challenging than it used to be, and by opening our eyes to the shortcomings of others and our own. And one of the landscapes in which it often occurs is the spiritual desert. Listen to what Laura Swan says in her book on The Forgotten Desert Mothers:

“The desert journey is one inch long and many miles deep. Inward is the only direction of travel.

The spiritual journey requires perseverance, steadfastness, remaining with commitments, and working through difficulties. Relationships can grow stale and boring; our overcommitments can seem hard to untangle. ‘Moving on’ might seem easier than working through misunderstandings; ‘staying on’ is an invitation to deepen valued relationships and commitments. Stability and perseverance provide the strength for the hard interior work of transformation; inner wrestling deepens our interior life. In the midst of this hard work we encounter our real selves.” (Laura Swan. The Forgotten Desert Mothers. New York: Paulist Press, 2001, p. 47.)

The very language of this paragraph is countercultural for quick-fix USAmericans. We tend to feel that there isn’t anything that can’t be solved by just stepping harder on the gas pedal of our lives and increasing our efforts at work. The desert is the place where all our speed and hurry are exposed as empty. There are few markers to measure our outward progress in the desert. We are driven to pay better attention to what is happening within us. Rather than running from the obviously broken in search of the apparently unbroken people or situations, we awaken to the reality that brokenness is a universal human condition, and the only sane choice is to stay where God puts us and welcome His healing, restoring grace to be present to us.

What is it about your circumstances right now that you don’t like and you can’t change? How might this be the very place God is desiring to use to deepen your roots, lengthen your patience and enrich your inner life with Him? Are you open?

(A repost from December 2008)





Reality Therapy

10 07 2011

Those who seek to walk more closely with God may think that it will help us feel better about ourselves. But what if coming out from the shadows into the bright light of God’s presence causes us to see our flaws and mess all the more plainly? What then? Listen to this good spiritual direction from James Houston in his The Transforming Power of Prayer (Colorado Springs: NavPress, 1996):

“…in fact, a life more dedicated to God enlarges our consciousness of ourselves. The thoughts that we used to repress now come to the surface, revealing the inner world of our heart which needs to be brought under the rule of Christ. This is a disturbing process, as the filth from the cellar of our inner lives bubbles up, exposing the things that threaten and damage us deep inside. But it is also a life-giving process, allowing us to be forgiven and healed by God.” (Houston, p. 68.)

As my eyes are more and more enlightened in the Presence of Christ, I have a much clearer vision of Him…and of myself. This does not always feel like good news! There are things about my life so far that I would prefer to keep hidden. There are thoughts, cravings and dispositions that disturb and appall me. I’m tempted to throw them back into the unseen depths and then somehow pretend they aren’t down there. But sometimes a wiser and more real part of me realizes that these places in me aren’t a true “me” (at least not any “me” that God has made). They need to surface in His gracious presence that I might be cleansed and made whole before Him.

I’ve sometimes used the metaphor of a mountain lake to describe my life. I will at times notice floating debris that I long to see cleared out so that I would be more attractive and inviting. And what has often been my clean-up strategy? A skimmer…the kind I’ve used on a swimming pool in the past. I go about skimming debris off the surface of my life and, for a time, the lake seems clearer. Then, I notice places in the lake where filth is bubbling up from below. I skim this away as well…but the bubbles don’t stop. How will I deal with this kind of pollution? Do I just skim more diligently and persistently? Do I simply try harder? I may, but it is a futile effort.

God’s gracious strategy and his kind initiative have taken a different tack than I have. He dries up the lake. He brings a drought. This drying up of the lake has been, for me, a kind of dark night of the soul that John of the Cross describes. He dries up what once seemed refreshing in my experience of Him. I find myself parched and uncomfortable.

As the lake recedes, what happens to the impurities of my life? Slowly and almost imperceptibly, the source of certain impurities begins to surface. At first, it is more recent and more “near the surface” rubbish. God is kind enough to pull it out of these exposed deep places and remove it as far from shore as it can be thrown.

As time goes on, though, deeper and more ancient junk may come into view. Usually, I have been utterly unaware of its long-forgotten presence in me. God, in his immense mercy, arrives at that place long before I have noticed it and does the clean up work I cannot accomplish on my own. There comes a time when the lake of my life has been deeply scoured and is ready to receive the pure water of His presence more fully.

Only that which is exposed to the presence of God is therefore exposed to the healing and forgiving hand of God. Whatever there is in me is safe to surface in the presence of a merciful God. This kind of exposure is, as John of the Cross puts it in his poem, “a sheer grace” and a “secure” place. Even as I may feel vulnerable and even endangered in such exposure, the loving voice of God speaks healing and comfort into my depths.

In these places where the dried-up lake has caused some of the ugliness of my old way of life to surface, I pray God grant me freedom not to hide, or worse, to return to those old ways, but rather acknowledge them and welcome Your forgiving and healing grace. This is what I need.

“…we need to exercise prayer in the absence of God. Not that God Is truly absent, but he withdraws from us so that we can learn to know God as God. God is not our patron, our wish-fulfiller, or the generator of more illusions about ourselves. He is himself.” (Houston, p. 102.)





Looking Back: When the Well Runs Dry

11 01 2010

Below is a link from something I posted December 2008 about the common experience of rich, consoling experiences of God in our early journey, and sometimes places of dryness or less-felt communion with God down the road a bit. I share a little of my own story, but then reflect on it for others among us who identify with such places.

Click to read “When the Well Runs Dry





A Good Word: Mother Teresa’s Abandon to Jesus

10 12 2009

A while back, I read the Come Be My Light, the story of Mother Teresa’s life and spiritual journey. Many know that she spent most of the last decades of her life with little or no conscious sense of God’s presence, though remained a woman of deep and faithful prayer. Here are a couple of insights that helped me:

“‘When I see someone sad,’ she would say, ‘I always think, she is refusing something to Jesus.’’ It was in giving Jesus whatever He asked that she found her deepest and lasting joy; in giving Him joy she found her own joy.” (Mother Teresa. Come Be My Light. New York: Doubleday, 2007, p. 33.)

“She would again insist: ‘Don’t look for big things, just do small things with great love…. The smaller the thing, the greater must be our love.’” (p. 34.)

What little things is Jesus inviting you to do? Are you willing to do them with great love, rather than looking around for the dramatic thing you can do for Him?

Buy a copy of Mother Teresa: Come Be My Light on Amazon.com





A Good Word: Mother Teresa and the Soul’s Dark Night

30 08 2009

IMG_8949A while back, I read Come Be My Light, a collection of materials from the life of Mother Teresa of Calcutta. Many have talked about her extended lack of God’s felt presence for most of her years of ministry among the poorest of the poor. Some have thought she was being hypocritical in proclaiming good news that she wasn’t feeling herself. What a mistaken perspective. Listen to this explanation of her experience by the writer of this collection:

“With regard to the feeling of loneliness, of abandonment, of not being wanted, of darkness of the soul, it is a state well known by spiritual writers and directors of conscience. This is willed by God in order to attach us to Him alone, an antidote to our external activities, and also, like any temptation, a way of keeping us humble in the midst of applauses, publicity, praises, appreciation, etc. and success. To feel that we are nothing, that we can do nothing is the realisation of a fact. We know it, we say it, some feel it.” (Mother Teresa. Come Be My Light. New York: Doubleday, 2007, p. 167.)

Have you found yourself in seasons when you seek God but don’t sense, or feel, or have confidence that He is really present? You would not be alone. How might you see this place in your journey not so much as a loss of faith, but as a refining of your faith?





Trusting in the Dark What We Saw in the Light

29 08 2009

img_26101Can you think of moments or seasons when God’s purposes for you seemed quite unmistakable? And have you been walking with Him long enough to encounter seasons when your confidence is tested through long seasons of lesser certainty? I know at least I have. I read the following word from Jean Blomquist in an edition of Weavings and found it helpful.

“Most of the time, my path is circuitous, and the movement of the Spirit is subtle and difficult to discern. Occasionally I experience epiphanies, or moments of truth, that come with startling clarity, only to be followed by years of discovering and working through their implications as well as gathering up the courage to act faithfully on them.” (Blomquist, Jean M.. “Embracing Epiphany: Growing in the Light of Desire and Satisfaction.” Weavings. January/February 2004, p. 36.)

I have had my own enlightening encounters with God. They have shaped and moved me profoundly. But they are not constant. In fact, my experience has been that they are more occasional with long seasons of “trusting in the dark” as I work out those encounters in the realities of my life and ministry. I am not invited to collect epiphanies like I would collect coins. I am invited to encounter God and then respond to Him fully.

I’d love to hear anything from your journey along these lines…








Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 7,180 other followers