Learning to Discern

if He comes in darkness
	a potent presence out of sight
		I’ll learn new ways of knowing
			grow sensors that can find him
				learn trust like a baby
					and find out
						He’s light
							in the dark
if He comes in mystery
	with hints of holy secrets I can’t bear
		I will learn to listen
			study tomes of wisdom
				ask him for discernment
					and discover
						growing is forever
if He comes in whispers
	in the middle of ordinariness
		I’ll follow every nudging
			by the practice of His presence
				find joy in obeying
					receive
						un-ordinary peace

When you see magnificent skyscapes, doesn’t it make you wonder what it means? What is beyond that face looking at me? What is ahead on this road: more beauty, or a thunderstorm?

Sometimes the pattern is highlighting the magnificence of the Creator. Sometimes it is a warning.

Discernment is having the knowledge necessary to tell the difference. When we’re talking about spiritual discernment, it has to be founded on knowing Jesus. That is a lifelong journey.

He shows himself to us when we truly seek him, and in order to follow the path he is laying out for us, we need to grow in that intimate relationship. As Peter said in the last words he wrote to those he was discipling:

Therefore, dear friends, since you have been forewarned, be on your guard so that you may not be carried away by the error of the lawless and fall from your secure position. 18 But grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. To him be glory both now and forever! Amen. (2 Pet. 3:17 NIV)

“But grow”! Knowing the Lord, accepting this gracious undeserved favor of walking life in close and secure companionship with the King, that is to be our pursuit! It is essential for growing in maturity.

The verses of poetry above are culled from a long poem contemplating many of the ways that he may choose to reveal himself and his wisdom to us.[1] The focus is on learning discernment, a gifting I have truly needed to develop. This verse lays it out for us:

But solid food is for the mature, for those who have their powers of discernment trained by constant practice to distinguish good from evil. (Heb. 5:14 ESV)

Here is my first take-away: developing discernment takes constant practice! And secondly, it is about distinguishing right from wrong, good from evil. That is definitely essential for those of us “walking the Jesus Road,” as being a Christ-follower is called in the West African context where we worked for so long. We may come to a fork in the earthly road we see before us. Which way are we to choose? Many times the choice may be clear, such as when one turn clearly leads to the edge of a cliff and the other choice is safety. But it may not always be so obvious which is right and which is wrong. Both choices may look good from where we stand, or maybe mist is covering them and we find it hard to know what lies beyond.

How can we develop that sensitivity to the Lord’s direction that will give the answer we need? How will he come through? In some instances, his voice may be louder than we expect, impossible to ignore:

if He comes with thunder

          a flash of light brighter than noon

                    my eyesight will be shattered

                              dis-illusioned by the brilliance

                                        and within I’ll be struck

                                                  heartwise

                                                            and be healed

Will it be in mystery, or in whispers we can hear if we are paying attention? Our job is to practice his presence, heart-ears open to his promptings. Distinguishing his instructions from those that may come from other voices that want  to take us on a detour or make us stumble, that is discernment. It is strengthened by knowing what he has already laid out for us in his Word. He shines light on what we need to know as we walk with him:

. . . at one time you were darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Walk as children of light 9 (for the fruit of light is found in all that is good and right and true), 10 and try to discern what is pleasing to the Lord. (Eph. 5:8-10 ESV) ©

When we know what he has already told us, then we know what is good and what is not:

I have stored up your word in my heart, that I might not sin against you. (Ps. 119:11 ESV)

Clear light on the path is found in Romans 12, a chapter that means more to me every time I return to it. The essential first step is to be completely devoted to God and his priorities. We offer our bodies, ourselves, to him as a “living sacrifice.” I understand this as similar to the way the Levites were to consecrate themselves to Yahweh for ministry (cf. Numbers 8:8-10, 20-22) as an offering. We are to be priests in the kingdom of God:

But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light. (1 Pet. 2:9 NIV)

So, to live as children of light, consecrated as priests, we need to be able to do what God has laid out for us, not just what is viewed as good by the world we live in:

Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is– his good, pleasing and perfect will. (Rom. 12:2 NIV)

That is discernment, this ability to “test and approve” what is good according to God’s standards. In this chapter Paul then uses sincere love as a key to evaluating what is good versus what is wrong, then living it out (vv. 9-21).

“Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil, cling to what is good. (Rom. 12:9 NIV)

If we are going to live this way, we need to weigh a value or action by whether or not it meets the standards of love. These standards include loving one’s neighbor and also one’s enemy, and respecting God as the one in charge (not myself!). This excellent explanation concludes with a command:

Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good. (Rom. 12:21 NIV)

If only I could always do that! It comes via the “renewing of my mind,” transformation in how I choose to do what is good now that I am a child of light, a priest in God’s kingdom.

8For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Live as children of light 9 (for the fruit of the light consists in all goodness, righteousness and truth) 10and find out what pleases the Lord. (Eph. 5.8-10 NIV)

Here is an enlightening translation of verse 10:

10 trying to learn  what is pleasing to the Lord. (Eph. 5:8 NET)

We are not perfect in weighing good versus evil from the start—it is a learning curve! What is essential is committing ourselves to the journey, to “try to learn”—to let the Spirit do his work as our counselor as he renews our minds, and as we put into practice what he says.

A good place to start is to measure a prospective act against the fruit of the Spirit (Gal. 5.22-23), or the list of applications of love in Romans 12. If I do this act, am I honoring someone more than myself? Am I being patient when things are hard? Am I doing what I can to live in peace with others? Am I sharing with those in need? The list covers a lot of territory!!

I join with Paul in praying the following petition for myself and for any of you who are also on the Jesus Road:

And it is my prayer that your love may abound more and more, with knowledge and all discernment, 10 so that you may approve what is excellent, and so be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, 11 filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ, to the glory and praise of God. (Phil. 1:9 ESV)

[1] For more of this poem and others about growing in the practice of listening to the Lord, see my book When He Whispers: Learning to Listen on the Journey. (Westbow Press:2021), © Linnea Boese. Available on Amazon and Christianbook.com.

Grateful!

thank you is
the flip side of fear
its antidote

unutterable 
thanks bubbling over 
wow! wow! wow!

grace welling
indwelling
dispelling 

fear—it flees
in the face 
of gratitude

You know that feeling: the joy that comes when something longed for, waited for, despaired of, suddenly shows up! You were afraid that it would never happen. You thought the worst was on its way. And then WOW!

It happened to me last week. There was not enough money in the account to pay the salaries of the Nyarafolo translation team (five men with families) after this month. Then WHOOSH! WHAT?    The unbelievable happened. Two amazing totally unexpected donations came in, far above what we thought possible !

Deep gratitude definitely washed over me. I kept hearing, over and over, the Father reminding me: “Getting out the Word to the Nyarafolo is my project, one I started, one I am getting finished.” It was as if he was saying, “Why were you so afraid? Just be thankful, and keep pressing on!”

It had taken months to get that answer to our prayers. It was definitely a walk of faith, building our trust in the One In Charge.

This poem on gratitude was written when we had been recently evacuated from Côte d’Ivoire due to civil war, twenty years ago. The future was a big blank. We had no home to settle into, and kept wondering what our purpose was supposed to be. When the Lord showed us pieces of his plan (we were not going to be homeless!) and purpose for each of us (seminary for me, ministry for Glenn, high school for Bryn), fear dissolved. We could only thank our Provider and Guide.

It’s true that often we forget to actually express our thanks, whether it is to God or to a person. That was underlined for me about three decades ago, when I asked my Nyarafolo Christian friends to give me a name. I was tired of hearing so many of them resort to “Madame” when addressing me. Why couldn’t they call me “Linn?” They said that my name was just too difficult to use. Well then, I insisted, please give me a Nyarafolo name! They had already given one to Glenn, “Kajuʔulosori,” which meant basically: “Words just exit/he doesn’t hold grudges!” I was waiting for a good name like that.

They consulted briefly, came to consensus, and my friend Saly came over to me to tell me I was now “Penyuɔnɛkuɔ!” “So what does that mean?” I asked.

“Well, it’s short for a longer proverb that assumes that when you’ve helped someone, they are successful and get what they want, but they will forget to say thank you!”  Saly said.

How was that a good name? I was startled. She saw my expression. “It’s so true,” she said. “That’s why it’s good.”

I began thinking about it. Situations in the Bible began to leap out in a new way, and I began to write “Penyuɔnɛkuɔ” next to them.

When I fed them, they were satisfied; when they were satisfied, they became proud; then they forgot me. (Hos. 13:6 NIV)

You deserted the Rock, who fathered you; you forgot the God who gave you birth. (Deut. 32:18 NIV)

Our ancestors in Egypt failed to appreciate your miraculous deeds, they failed to remember your many acts of loyal love, and they rebelled at the sea, by the Red Sea. (Ps. 106:7 NET)

Do I remember what the Lord has done for me, bringing me this far? Do I take note of all the times in the past he has provided for the Nyarafolo translation project? Do I remember the way the funds came pouring in after there was that horrible fire in the office that destroyed so many resources and the wiring? And now, am I remembering to pour out my thanks to God for this amazing provision? How about the days when the Internet connects me flawlessly to my co-translator Moïse so that we can continue to work on translating Isaiah? (This is actually happening!)

I want to be the King’s daughter who is paying attention, one who sees his fingerprints on what is happening. I want to be the one who runs to him with tearful amazement, fear gone, gratitude pouring out!

It’s true that often people forget to thank someone for their gracious act of help—in the grocery store, or the hospital, or in the kitchen, wherever. Parents usually try to train their kids to say “thank you.” Sometimes it sticks.

As children of the living God, we need to train ourselves to give heartfelt thanks to him. We do it before eating our meals, but it seems that often it becomes a ritual recitation, not true gratitude. Jesus thanked the Lord before meals, and we should as well—but we should mean what we say.

And if we are paying attention to all that he provides, we can send up “flash prayers” of gratitude, anytime, anywhere.

O Lord, my God, I will give you thanks with my whole heart! I will honor your name continually! (Ps. 86:12 NET)  

He is training me in this—yes, it’s spiritual formation, this process of constantly maturing! A few nights ago I was driving home late at night in the dark. The freeway was being repaired, with lanes blocked and big orange cones everywhere. I nearly missed the exit I was supposed to take. So I slowed down, right-turn light flashing, ready to swerve in at the last minute, when a car suddenly whipped around me to the right and I almost hit it! I was so glad that what came out of my mouth was: “Thank you, Lord!” He was hemming me in, behind and before, and I noticed!

You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me. (Ps. 139:5 NIV)

You have encircled me; You have placed Your hand on me. (Ps. 139:5 CSB)

I could have just been scared, or angry. But instead, the Spirit is changing my innate response to what it should be: gratitude. I am grateful.

As Chris McKnight says: “Christians are to thank God for creating and sustaining the world and for His ongoing redemption of it through Jesus. They are expected to pray to God privately (Matt 5:6) and thank Him for what He has done (Luke 17:12–19). The Psalms display individual prayers of thanks (Psa 69:30–36), and the New Testament includes individual thanks for fellow believers (Phlm 1:4). Thanklessness is regarded as a rejection of God, which leads to further sin and eventual judgment (Rom 1:21).

Ultimately, Christians are to do all things in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through Him (Col 3:17). From this perspective, all of an individual’s life in Christ—whether in worship, at meals, or otherwise—becomes an opportunity to offer thanks.”[1]

When I help my grandson cope with a challenge, and he smiles and says “Thank you,” my heart is warmed and I feel our relationship glue getting yet stronger. Paying attention to what God is doing, acknowledging that it comes from him, strengthens my attachment to him as well:

“God is the giver and we are the thanks-givers. The circle is complete and it allows us to open yet a deeper part of our life where there is weakness and we acknowledge our dependence on God. God meets us at that point with another blessing and gift. His grace and help come into our lives. We recognize that he has met us and blessed us. We know that it is a gift of grace that he has brought into our lives, so we respond again with gratitude, praise, trust and faith. The circle is complete and the spiral of our life and experience with God continues to deepen and widen. Life begins to change, not because the circumstances are easier or less demanding, but because we begin to see them in a new light.”[2]

May we each be ready to open that deeper part of our life, realizing how dependent we are on God’s goodness—and noticing when he gifts us! We will indeed see things from a new perspective. Fear will be conquered by gratitude, and trust will be strengthened.

And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful.  (Col. 3:15 ESV)

[1] Chris McKnight, “Thanksgiving,” ed. John D. Barry et al., The Lexham Bible Dictionary (Bellingham, WA: Lexham Press, 2016).

[2] Jay Sivits, https://thewell.intervarsity.org/spiritual-formation/developing-discipline-gratitude

Begging, Waiting

Like your disciples
on that day between
your murder
and your return to life
I wait, longing to see
what you have promised.

You said that,
if I would just believe
even a little tiny bit
I could make a mountain move—
I would receive
from your loving hand
what I am begging for.

So I wait,
and scrape up hope,
asking you for mercy.
Help my unbelief!

Have you been there, pleading with the Lord, forced to wait to see what his answer will be? We who are his children often beg, wondering “if” . . .

His plan, his timing is not always what we hoped it would be.

But he tells us to pray without stopping! He told us that if we even have miniscule faith, tiny like a mustard seed, we would see our prayer answered (Mat. 17:20). It’s easy to throw in the towel and lose hope when we don’t see it happening immediately. But praying on behalf of others, intercessory prayer, is a training ground in trust, obedience, and knowing the Lord. There is lots to push us to keep on practicing it.

For one thing, we need to obey our Master and keep on praying. Jesus even told his disciples a parable about a woman constantly pestering a judge to give her justice, protection against an enemy. Jesus said that, like the widow, they should not give up:

7 Will not God grant justice to His elect who cry out to Him day and night? Will He delay to help them? 8 I tell you that He will swiftly grant them justice. Nevertheless, when the Son of Man comes, will He find that faith on earth?” (Lk. 18:7-8 CSB)

And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the Lord’s people. (Eph. 6:18 NIV)

Pray constantly. (1 Thess. 5:17 CSB)

So Jesus was clear that his followers should pray, continually. He even told his disciples that they would get what they ask for:

“Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. 8 For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened. (Matt. 7:7-8 NIV)

But there is also a warning: we might be asking what does not align with his priorities, and what he has told us are the purposes he has for us. If we ask for something for selfish reasons, we cannot expect to get what we ask for. Would I give my child whatever she wants, even if I know it will only be unhealthy for her, maybe even something that could encourage her to do something wrong?

When you ask, you do not receive, because you ask with wrong motives, that you may spend what you get on your pleasures. (Jas. 4:3 NIV)

It becomes clear that we, God’s children, can come to him freely, but we need to get more and more in tune with his teaching. We need to learn how to pray correctly by living in him, letting his Word live in us increasingly, and then asking him to act in line with that. As he said:

If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. (Jn. 15:7 ESV)

That is the big IF we need to take into account! 

In Celebration of Discipline, Richard Foster advises us to take an important first step before launching into our intercessory prayer:  be still, listen, see what the Lord is saying about the person or situation. Then use that as the format for our prayer.[1]  

This prepares us so that we can come like children to their Father, as Jesus said to do, trusting his good heart. His model prayer begins, “Our Father in heaven”. Yes, he is high over the earth, but lovingly connected with his dear ones.  Imagine, or “see” with your heart, the good outcome you desire, and pray it to him.[2] 

Here is a suggestion: collect texts that lead you to pray the way that the Lord is teaching you. I have begun to do that myself. For example, I am praying for the Nyarafolo people, who are still in the category “least reached.” Joined by many others, prayer has been going on for years. And more and more are coming to him. The following verses give good leads—then we can add data that we know, events that are going on. It is in line with his heart to ask for more to believe, for more people over to there to share the Good News, for his purposes to be fulfilled:

For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.” (Lk. 19:10 NIV)

And the gospel must first be preached to all nations. (Mk. 13:10 NIV)

All the nations you have made will come and worship before you, Lord; they will bring glory to your name. (Ps. 86:9 NIV)

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. (Jn. 3:16 NIV)

I write to you, dear children, because you know the Father. I write to you, fathers, because you know him who is from the beginning. I write to you, young men, because you are strong, and the word of God lives in you, and you have overcome the evil one. (1 Jn. 2:14 NIV)

That last one gives ways to pray for the believers who are already there, but also that others might “know him who is from the beginning.” And may the “word of God” come to them and live in them!

When I pray for someone wandering, I have found Jesus’ parable of the lost sheep to be a wonderful structure for my prayer (Luke 15:4-6). He loves that lost sheep, who belongs to his flock but has allowed other things to lead them astray. I know he is that Good Shepherd who will pursue them.

Another practice that can fill our hearts with compassion as we pay attention to those around us is what Frank Laubach calls “flash prayers,” praying for anyone we see. We can do this at family get-togethers, when with friends, or on a prayer walk.[3] This can truly change how we interact with those people.

If the Lord lays someone on our heart, prompting a genuine yearning for his intervention in their lives, that is a prompt we should pay attention to. Foster says: “If we genuinely love people, we desire for them far more than it is within our power to give, and that will cause us to pray.” This “is one of the clearest indications from the Lord that this is a prayer project for you.”[4]

We cannot command our Father! We come with hearts submitted to him as King of the Universe, Lord of our lives, and petition him. He hears us. But he also lets us come to him with pleading for his understanding:

Listen to my prayer, O God. Pay attention to my plea. (Ps. 54:2 NLT)

Then, trusting him and his goodness, we wait.

[1] Foster, Richard J. Celebration of Discipline: The Path to Spiritual Growth. (San Francisco: Harper and Row, Publishers), p. 35

[2] Ibid., p. 36.

[3] Ibid., p. 39.

[4] Ibid., p. 35.

How Long?

Father, our hopes are drying up
just like the earth,turned to dust;
just like the leaves,shriveled to paper.
No sign of change; no rain.
How long must your people
wither, shiver in thirsty air
that claims all moisture as its own?
Tears are gone with the wind.
Our hearts ache and find no solace.
How long must our eyes burn,
longing, searching the horizon
for some glimpse of hope?

Slap the violent out of their arrogance!
Pull their stolen chairs out from under
their fat bums, grown gross 
from slurping up the profits of the poor!
Nail them to the crosses they’ve erected
for the innocent, judging them guilty
for their names or point of view!

How long, dear King, our Father?
We know you rule the universe.
Let us see your justice—
we beg this of you! Hear our prayer:
this petition signed in anxious trust . . . 
all our hope is in you!
 
I wrote this lament in 2010, in Côte d’Ivoire, where we were living in the northern region still held by rebels who had gained that territory in 2002. They were without compassion, cruel. But so was the government that still ruled the south! There were too many northerners trying to find new hope by going south who were then killed by police or soldiers as “suspect,” since they had a “northern” last name. It was hard to know how to pray. How could justice be done in the middle of such a mess?

Psalm 13 gave me structure for my personal lament. And Psalm 75 gave me hope; it underlines God’s sovereignty and his judgment of the arrogant and those oppressing the poor.

Praying the Word has increasingly become a rich foundation for my prayers. The practice comes in different forms, depending on the context and purpose. Each time it gives guidance in praying according to the Lord’s direction.

One warning: when choosing a Scripture text on which to base such a prayer, you need be careful to not take it out of context in such a way that its message is falsified. Once when I was a guest at a church I had never visited before, the pastor urged anyone in the congregation who had a need to speak their words and whatever they said would happen, that need would be met, that wish fulfilled. The text they were to base their prayer on was this:

So tell them, ‘As surely as I live, declares the LORD, I will do to you the very thing I heard you say: (Num. 14:28 NIV)

People went forward, claiming this as their promise. The pastor had not given them the context, or the following verse:

In this wilderness your bodies will fall– every one of you twenty years old or more who was counted in the census and who has grumbled against me. (Num. 14:29 NIV)

The “promise” was that their words of refusal to enter the promised land would be exactly what they would get in return: no entry, just wandering and death! It was a curse, not a formula to follow to manipulate God!

One way to practice praying Scripture on a solid basis is to benefit from the careful work of those who have done thorough research to give useful examples. Kenneth Boa’s books, Face to Face: Praying the Scriptures for Intimate Worship (two volumes), have guided me for years. I use them as I begin my daily quiet time. Boa explains that he based the daily collections of Scripture texts on the eight forms of prayer found in “The Lord’s Prayer”: adoration, confession, renewal, petition, intercession, affirmation, thanksgiving, and closing (from Matthew 6:9-13).[1] He has personalized verses that fit in each of those categories. Every day has a new collection, and I find that they help me not to leave out adoration, or confession, for example, from my prayers. Great reminders!

Adele Calhoun, as usual, puts the purpose of the practice in meaningful terms: “Praying Scripture is a way of entering deeply into the text with a heart alert to a unique and personal word from God. Words and verses that catch our attention become invitations to be with God in prayer. When our prayers seem to be more about maintaining control and offering God our agenda for his stamp of approval, praying Scripture can return us to a simpler state of openness and attentiveness to God.”[2]

It is way too easy to make our prayers only petitions or intercession. I have been learning to broaden the scope, but also to listen carefully to texts that the Lord wants me to use with truly personal application. While doing lectio divina, the text that captures my heart as I concentrate on a Scripture section becomes a focus of prayer as well. This past week one highlighted for me was Romans 7:4:

So, my brothers and sisters, you also died to the law through the body of Christ, that you might belong to another, to him who was raised from the dead, in order that we might bear fruit for God. (Rom. 7:4 NIV)

I underlined the words that became increasingly meaningful to me as I meditated on them, then prayed them back to my Lord, Messiah, personalizing them like this: “You, the resurrected one, the living Christ, you wanted me to belong to you! And you have this purpose for me, now that I am yours: you want me to bear fruit for you, you who are God. I want to do that. I want to do what you want me to. What are you putting before me today? How can I bear fruit today? How about in the future, the immediate or long-term?”

This has put me in a place where I am paying much more attention to the promptings that come my way. I’ve already seen him set up a connection for encouraging a young woman in her growth, one I did not expect. He knew it was coming! When it opened up, I knew immediately it came from him, that it was fruit he wanted me to bear.

Praying the Scriptures is also a practice in the prayer group that Glenn and I attend at our home church, Highland Park Baptist. At “Oasis” on Wednesday evenings, church leaders present a passage and ask for discussion, then open it up for prayer based on the verse or verses just covered. Right now we are slowly going through the book of James. At the end of the session, we divide into small intimate groups to apply the principles in more personal prayer. It is rich. Instead of dealing with long carefully crafted petitions that take over a “prayer meeting,” we focus on God’s Word to us in that moment.

While researching this practice I found a great resource: how to do Scripture-based prayer for a people group that does not yet have the whole Word in their language. It is on the Wycliffe Bible Translators’ site. Since Bible translation is the ministry the Lord led me into, for the least-reached Nyarafolo people in northern Côte d’Ivoire, I deeply appreciate their suggestions for how to pray for a people that does not yet have all the Scriptures, even if you do not have immediate updates and don’t know that much about what is happening. These are the basic steps:

“So when words fail you, open up the Bible and allow God’s words to be your prayer. Here are a few tips that can help get you started:

Find a quiet place to connect with God.

Begin by praying a Scripture that prepares your heart for connecting intimately with God. (Suggestions: Hebrews 4:16, Psalm 119:118)

Use a verse or passage to shape your prayer. (Example: “Lord, the whole earth is yours, and everything in it! The world and all its people belong to you—including the __ people. May they understand the depth of your love for them today” –based on Psalm 14:1)

Allow imagery from Scripture to influence your prayer. (Suggestion: Revelation 7:9-10)

 Turn a verse into a first- or third-person prayer.

Pick a verse and declare it as truth for a people group or nation.

Ask the Holy Spirit to help you pray. (He helps us in our weakness, and pleads for believers in harmony with God’s will – cf. Romans 8:26-27)[3]

May we all make progress in praying as our Lord wishes, as we pray his own Word back to him!

[1] Boa, Kenneth. Face to Face: Praying the Scriptures for Intimate Worship. (Zondervan Publishing House: Grand Rapids, MI, 1997), pp. vi-vii.

[2] Calhoun, Adele Ahlberg. Spiritual Disciplines Handbook: Practices that Transform Us. (Downers Grove, Illinois: IVP Books, 2005), p. 246

[3] https://www.wycliffe.org/prayer/how-to-pray-scripture-back-to-god

Waiting for Breakthrough

We are like Joshua, like his crowd of followers,
circling, circling the walled city in silence,
hoping, crying out from our souls
only to You, Master of the Universe,
to break through those daunting walls.

People shout from inside, defaming you.
They do not know you. They do not feel
your loving arms around them.
All they have are huge thick walls.
So they assume they are just fine.

We have to trust, circling in silence,
that you will do what you have promised:
crush those walls and break on through
in your own timing. It will be a miracle
and we will cry out shouts of praise!

So we wait and keep on walking, 
walking with You, Your hand holding ours,
the path before us clear, unchanged---
circling, waiting, heart-eyes fixed on You.
And walls will crumble down.

A few weeks ago I got a call from a friend at my church, Margaret Hadley, asking me to join her on a prayer walk. Prayer walking is her passion – her book, A Prayer Walk through Washington D.C., came out in 2020. Now she is working on a marathon-length walk here in Michigan. Would I join her in the initial segment, a walk up Woodward in Detroit?

I live in Detroit and have come to love it. I am also a walker, and combining prayer with motion is delightful to me. So the two of us walked seven miles together from the Detroit River Walk, where Woodward Avenue ends, up to 7 Mile Road. Margaret was leading the event and had brought prayer prompts, the first verses of several psalms. They helped, but mostly we talked to the Lord about what we saw on our journey out loud, eyes wide open so that other pedestrians would see us as just engaged in conversation. We passed medical buildings, universities, restaurants, bars, churches of all kinds, beggars, families, and eventually neighborhoods. There was so much to lift up to the Lord of the Universe as we contemplated the needs of this city. At the end of the walk my feet were sore, but my heart was happy. Yes, there are many needs, but there is also hope. And it is our Lord who can break through all walls and bring change.

It brought back memories of another time years ago when my friend Cecilia Fueslein drove me to key sites in the city (the weather was cold) and we prayed together for its “peace.” I had recently become a resident of Detroit; she had a longer history here. We both really wanted to see change, and an evangelistic event was on the horizon. The Word says:

Also, seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into exile. Pray to the LORD for it, because if it prospers, you too will prosper.” (Jer. 29:7 NIV)

Peace and prosperity are attempts to try to express the word “shalom” in the Hebrew. It includes concern for the welfare of the city, its health.

Another time, back in Ferkessédougou, I had joined some missionary coworkers in walking around the Baptist Hospital, praying together for God to do what seemed to be miracles. It was going through extremely hard times, and our hearts were deeply burdened. Praying together for its welfare, and against the Enemy attacks it was experiencing, we were united in asking for breakthrough. And recently we have seen that beginning to happen!

It all reminds me of the way Joshua and his people walked around Jericho (see Joshua 5 and 6).

By faith the walls of Jericho fell, after the army had marched around them for seven days. (Heb. 11:30 NIV)

They were told to be silent, and only to shout on the seventh day after the seventh time the city had been circled that day. But the fact that the ark of the covenant was with them, seven priests carrying trumpets that also sounded at that critical moment, showed that they were counting on Yahweh’s presence and action. What would I have been crying out in my heart if I were among that crowd of people following the army, circling a city that hated me and my Master? How would I have handled my fear? I’m sure I would have been desperately calling out to him “in silence” with my inner voice. The people had not seen a city of enemies experience that kind of spiritual warfare. It was so scary, but they obeyed and exposed themselves to anyone guarding the city, on its walls, to walk all those days!

Prayer walking is truly a form of spiritual formation, and more and more Christian groups are practicing it together on university campuses, in cities and in neighborhoods. Our church uses the warm summer weather to take prayer walks in the community surrounding it. When someone asks a question that opens up the opportunity to talk, you are encouraged to ask if they have something they would like to ask prayer for. But mostly it is just about walking two by two, praying out loud as we pass different venues and people, asking the Lord to do his work in that community.

Often my morning walks in my neighborhood involve meditation, or prayer for dear ones near and far, but there are also many times when the Lord prompts me to pray for people I know as I pass by: a woman whose son was killed, an immigrant family from Africa, a woman involved in witchcraft, a friend who does not know Jesus yet. He continues to prompt me to pray for spiritual movement toward true knowledge of the Jesus Way, to actually know him. It is part of my current learning curve as the Lord pushes me to pay attention to the world around me and to walk with him in it, not just alone with my preoccupations and my intent to exercise!

One huge difference that this practice makes in my walk is remembering that he is right there with me—practicing his presence. When I walk with a partner, the same thing happens: we are not just two or three humans covering the distance together, but we are talking with the One who is the focus of our conversation. He wants us to pray, everywhere, constantly:

And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. (Eph. 6:18a NIV)

And wherever we go, he is with us:

Yet I am always with you; you hold me by my right hand. (Ps. 73:23 NIV)

The right hand is symbolic for action, so this is not only about the comfort, guidance and protection we

need. It is also about doing what he wants us to do. Like praying “with all kinds of prayers”.

I appreciate this simple three-point outline that applies to this practice:

  • Prayer-walking lets our context shape the prayers we pray.
  • Prayer-walking reminds me of the vast opportunities around me and the finiteness of my resources.
  • Prayer-walking enables you to engage real kingdom work in your vicinity, in a location where there may not be many (or any) other Christians.[1]

We can take prompts from what we see, what we hear, and from any of our senses. The ancient broken sidewalks in Detroit remind me that this city is broken and needs healing. I pass an old man, hunched over and limping; he needs prayer. I pass the home of a friend who is a missionary now on the field; even that is reminder to pray for her. I see kids’ toys out on the sidewalk and pray for their welfare, and for spiritual blessing on them. A police car rolls slowly by and I pray for them as they protect the people, for wisdom and integrity, and salvation! Leaves fall and I am reminded of passing seasons and the brevity of life. So I ask God to work in me and through me in the days I have left.

When God lays a word from Scripture on our hearts, we can let it structure how we intercede for people and for our interactions. One pertinent example is the commandment to love our neighbors. So as we walk and pray, we can ask him how we can show that love in words and actions.

Where we know there is evil at work, we pray against it.

Knowing that a community has deep spiritual needs, we pray for breakthrough, for openness to the Good News. It matters.

When we think about lurking danger, we can remember that we are protected by the One with whom we are walking:

You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me. (Ps. 139:5 NIV)

As Adele Calhoun says in her excellent book on spiritual disciplines, what I must desire when practicing prayer walking is “to align myself, while walking in particular places, with Christ and his intercession for the kingdom to come.” So it includes “deliberately walking through places for the purpose of intentional and listening prayer . . .seeing places through Jesus’ eyes.” [2]

Yes, I need to grow in my ability to see places and people through Jesus’ eyes, talking with him about them as we walk together. And where there are walls, he is the one who can make them crumble down!

[1] https://www.cslewisinstitute.org/resources/the-prayer-walk/  By C.S. Lewis Institute on January 1, 2021 Series: Covid-19, C.S. Lewis Institute

[2] Calhoun, Adele Ahlberg. Spiritual Disciplines Handbook: Practices that Transform Us. (Downers Grove, Illinois: IVP Books, 2005),  253

Letting Go

So I walked up to him
stretched out my arms
and laid it gently 
in his lap, where
it glistened like an emerald
in the throne’s radiant light.

And, though my fingers lingered
to caress it as they left,
I took my hands off
resolutely
and brought my eyes to his.
They locked, and I could go,

knowing that he understood,
and cherished my dream too,
and in his care 
it would be safe. 
Even if it’s hidden
and my aching hands are empty.

“Hands off” is not easy to accept. But how else can one “let go” and “let God” work? But there are times when it becomes obvious that there is no way to control a situation. Then the only solution becomes clear:

Cast your cares on the LORD and he will sustain you; he will never let the righteous be shaken. (Ps. 55:22 NIV)

Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you. (1 Pet. 5:7 NIV)

Throw concerns onto him! Now that sounds disrespectful, walking up to the throne of the King of the Universe to give him something I find too heavy a load to carry, or something hurting me. But he loves me and actually wants me to do that!

In fact, if I don’t, I am trying fruitlessly to do what only God can do. Holding on to it, I become hopeless. Letting go, I come to the One who can do way beyond what I dream.

Guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long. (Ps. 25:5 NIV)

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen (Eph. 3:20-21 NIV)

When in a situation that seems hopeless, there is only one Person to turn to, and he can work powerfully within us to give us peace and hope. V. Raymond Edman calls this the “discipline of desolation.” That sounds like the opposite of hope, doesn’t it? “Thus it is with the desolate heart: utterly withered, but God; and thereby life, with its emptiness and futility becomes filled with eternal realities. Companions and comforts may be consumed like smoke, but the Savior remains, the Compassionate Christ, and in him we have more than enough.”[1]

That feeling of desolation can lead us to let go, to relinquish our hold on that situation and turn to the one place where we can find true peace. Thomas Merton, in his prayer for this kind of relinquishment, asks for the ability to seek God perfectly, “to have a will that is always ready to fold back within itself and draw all the powers of the soul down from its deepest center to rest in silent expectancy for the coming of God, posed in tranquil and effortless concentration up the point of my dependence on Him; to gather all that I am, and have all that I can possibly suffer or do or be, and abandon them all to God in the resignation of a perfect love and blind faith and pure trust in God, to do His will. And then to wait in peace . . .”[2]

Good words: desolation that leads to relinquishment, and resignation. Peace.

I wrote that poem “Letting Go” about 25 years ago, and I am still waiting for the Lord to finish what he is doing in that situation. But over and over he has reminded me to trust him, to leave my desperate concern with him. Realizing over time that I’ve been grabbing it back, I lay it down again on his lap, and that is when I can continue my journey, waiting in peace.

Practicing “relinquishment” is actually a life-saver. It brings peace, while “holding on” to what cannot be controlled is constant hurt and frustration, hopelessness.

As a missionary, I had to say many goodbyes. I considered those some of the hardest requirements of my calling. God did tell us to honor our parents, right? But he also told us not to hang onto anything as more important than what our Lord is calling us to do. I was only about four when I realized that my own mother had needed to choose to follow God’s leading rather than her own mother’s preference. Our family had recently arrived in Congo when she got a telegram informing her that her mother had passed away. And her mother had not wanted her to be in ministry, far away. Mom’s tears, and her perseverance, were a model for me. She loved her mom, and had told her so, but she loved God most of all. And she knew that now that her mom was with the Lord, she would understand. Still, the goodbyes were hard, the one when leaving and the one when that telegram arrived.

That is why Jesus said those hard words: “If you want to be my disciple, you must hate everyone else by comparison — your father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters — yes, even your own life. Otherwise, you cannot be my disciple. (Lk. 14:26 NLT)

Hard words. But that is what living out “Lordship” means. He must be in control, when we yield ourselves to him as Master, the one in charge. Not me, but God. And when I know that he is the Sovereign King, and truly loves me, and promises to be my Shepherd and care for me, then I can rest in peace. And wait.

I remember a day when I was in seminary, studying Hebrew, when the class was dealing with how to understand this verse:

But I have calmed and quieted myself, I am like a weaned child with its mother; like a weaned child I am content. (Ps. 131:2 NIV)

The men in the class were confused about why the psalmist would liken himself to a weaned child. I realized that I was the only one there who had breastfed babies, so I raised my hand and shared the truth that makes it meaningful. Before being weaned, when the mother holds the baby to comfort them, they will root around for that source of milk. It is the weaned child who will just nestle against the mother’s chest for comfort; that is enough.

I have calmed and quieted myself, like a weaned child who no longer cries for its mother’s milk. Yes, like a weaned child is my soul within me. (Ps. 131:2 NLT)

When I have calmed myself and left my cares on God’s lap, I am content. He will take care of me and of my concern. Letting go, relinquishment, is trust. And that is our calling!

The LORD is my strength and shield. I trust him with all my heart. He helps me, and my heart is filled with joy. I burst out in songs of thanksgiving. (Ps. 28:7 NLT)

[1] Edman, V. Raymond. The Disciplines of Life. (Wheaton, Illinois: Scripture Press Foundation, 1948), 118.

[2] Merton, Thomas. New Seeds of Contemplation. (Abbey of Gethsemani, Inc.: New Directions, 1961), 46

Meditation on Broken Sidewalks

I was just walking briskly in the early morning light
when I let my eyes shift left, forgot to lift my feet,
and tripped on a ridge of ancient sidewalk, 
falling on rocks and pebbles
embedded in decades-old cement.
Ouch! Not again! Knees throbbing . . .
Yes, again! Whenever I look away
from your directives, Abba, 
even for a moment,
it’s so easy to stumble.
I really need focus, inner eyes
wisely contemplating what you say, 
avoiding the distractions
that only trip me up. Your smooth path
is mapped out in your Word;
your Spirit prompts the application
to the journey you’ve laid out,
personalized, for me to travel.
There are times when I’m to take
a different path, avoiding danger.
Leave the sidewalk; walk in the street!
You know what lies ahead, and eyes on you,
I can find that way you’ve leveled
just for me, walking with you.

I love walking alone just after dawn in these ancient Detroit streets of my neighborhood. Later I join walking partners, but the quiet moment when I start off, walking briskly while meditating on what I’ve just been reading in the Word, is a blessing. Some sidewalks here were put in place over 100 years ago and require careful attention to unexpected cracks and angled ridges—it’s why most of the time we walk in the streets here! But today I forgot to be that careful. I fell, and I’m dealing with scrapes and painful bruises.

That brought to mind a verse that had required much digging into meaning and vocabulary options in the West African language, Nyarafolo, a few days ago. (Yes, I’m now back to working as an exegete in Bible translation, using the Internet to help my Nyarafolo translator draft passages!) My fall was making this verse unexpectedly relevant! Was this a prompt from Abba?

The path of the righteous is level; you, the Upright One, make the way of the righteous smooth. (Isa. 26:7 NIV)

What does it mean to walk a level path? Aren’t there usually rocks and unexpected bumps in the road, especially in the African countryside, a little like these city sidewalks? When the Lord makes the way smooth, how does he do it as we walk forward in our lives? There are traps and challenges, right? However, I can understand that the path my Lord has prepared is the right one.

Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.(Prov. 3:5-6 NIV)

Forgetting to watch out for those not-level ridges today was a powerful object lesson. If I’d just kept my eyes on the path, then moved onto the pavement to avoid this rough patch, I would not have fallen. If I stay on the straight path, the righteous path, doing what the Lord says to do, I will be walking in the right direction without straying. I kept meditating on the applications as I moved ahead.

It turns out that is an example of practicing meditation as spiritual formation. That practice has taken on other meanings in our world, especially as its use in Eastern religions has gained the spotlight. Christ-followers have different goals, the main one being “simply a loving attentiveness to God. Through the prophet Isaiah, God urges us to ​‘Incline your ear, and come to me; listen, so that you may live.’1 Listening is the key. Hear the life-giving counsel of Francois Fenelon: ​“Be silent, and listen to God. Let your heart be in such a state of preparation that his Spirit may impress upon you such virtues as will please him. Let all within you listen to him. This silence of all outward and earthly affection and of human thoughts within us is essential if we are to hear his voice.’2“

Through meditation we are growing into what Thomas à Kempis called ​“a familiar friendship with Jesus.”[1]

Paying attention to the Voice, listening—staying tuned in does mean preventing the distractions of life from interrupting that intimate connection. So it does include detachment, but Christians do it for a different reason:

“If the believer disengages from the distractions and allurements of the world, it is in order that he/she might engage with the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Unlike eastern meditation, which advocates visualization in order to create one’s own reality, Christian meditation calls for visualization of the reality already created by God. Unlike eastern meditation, which advocates metaphysical union with ‘god’, Christian meditation calls for spiritual communion with God. Unlike eastern meditation, which advocates an inner journey to find the center of one’s being, Christian meditation calls for an outward focus on the objective revelation of God in Scripture and creation. Unlike eastern meditation, which advocates mystical transport as the goal of one’s efforts, Christian meditation calls for moral transformation as the goal of one’s efforts.”[2]

The practice has been promoted in the Scriptures for centuries:

Keep this Book of the Law always on your lips; meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do everything written in it.  (Jos. 1:8 NIV)

Within your temple, O God, we meditate on your unfailing love. (Ps. 48:9 NIV)

I will consider all your works and meditate on all your mighty deeds. (Ps. 77:12 NIV)

Oh, how I love your law! I meditate on it all day long. (Ps. 119:97 NIV)

My eyes stay open through the watches of the night, that I may meditate on your promises. (Ps. 119:148 NIV)

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable– if anything is excellent or praiseworthy– think about such things. (Phil. 4:8 NIV)

And there are many more. Thomas Merton, a pilgrim who has gone before us, clarifies the goal this way: “This is the real end of meditation—it teaches you how to become aware of the presence of God; and most of all it aims at bringing you to a state of almost constant loving attention to God, and dependence on Him.”[3]

The world around us has many lessons for us, often revealing truths that take our understanding of the Word even deeper. Once, for me, it was a spider hanging on a fragile web in my “Sacred Grove” back in Ferkessédougou: I realized that the Lord was telling me to “hang in there,” just trust him with how to get through a fragile situation. When we go to the beach for rest, I need to have a notebook and pen handy; I am amazed at the new things made clear each time by waves, undertow, even garbage scattered around. Sometimes it is the sight of people with a particular gift, activity, or even need, that trigger insight into a Scriptural principle and how to apply it.

As Adele Calhoun says, putting ourselves in a posture of “seeing beyond a first glance and first impression to the heart of God” and “experiencing calmness, serenity and quietness stemming from an awareness of the presence of God” are examples of the God-given fruit of meditation.[4] To accomplish this we have to pay attention, our mind and the eyes of our heart focused on his nearness and intention.

What is Abba showing me today? Am I watching? Am I really listening? Am I ruminating on what he has been showing me in his Word? Have I been making space for him to speak into my life, quieting the noise all around me so that I can meditate on his acts, his commands and his promises—even his character? Do I want to stay on the smooth, level path he has prepared for me?

It’s far better than stumbling or straying!

[1] Foster, Nathan.  The Making of an Ordinary Saint. Excerpt published by Richard J. Foster in “Understanding Meditation,” https://renovare.org/articles/understanding-meditation . Footnotes: [1] Isaiah 55:3
[2] Quoted in Foster, Sanctuary of the Soul.

[2] Storms, Sam. Quoted in https://www.crosswalk.com/faith/spiritual-life/10-things-you-should-know-about-christian-meditation.html.

[3] Merton, Thomas. New Seeds of Contemplation. (New York: New Directions Publishing Corporation, 1972), 217.

[4] Calhoun, Adele Ahlberg. Spiritual Disciplines Handbook: Practices that Transform Us. (Downers Grove, Illinois: IVP Books, 2005), 170.

Keeping Aligned with the Word

When all is said and done, the basics rule.
The way to walk from here to there is clear:
release my arrogance that claims the right
to choose my path and act out of my fear

and wait, instead, for God to take his pen
and twist the plot, for good, because I’m his.
Meanwhile my work assignment is mapped out:
guard justice, always do what’s right, and this—

to keep my heart aligned with his true Word,
maintain love in my world, love him, draw near.

When I was a child growing up in Congo, my parents had a little box full of Bible verses on cards. One breakfast ritual was pulling them out after we had finished eating to review the ones already memorized and to begin learning a new one. I was the oldest child, so I usually took the lead. I had no idea that so many of those verses were going to shape my life, especially these:

Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you. (Jas. 4:8 ESV)

I have hidden your word in my heart that I might not sin against you. (Ps. 119:11 NIV)

Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; 6 in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight. (Prov. 3:5 NIV)

Back then they were all in KJV, getting updated in my mind over time as I dug into other translations. But the meaning was rooted in my heart. I longed to be closer to God then ever before, to draw near to him, and I knew that that would require knowing him through his Word.

Then, during my second year of marriage, I lost my first pregnancy in the seventh month, a devastating blow. I took time off from work, and turned to John 17 for comfort. Jesus had prayed for me as well as his disciples, and he longed to keep on making himself known to me and to fill me with his love. I was being embraced even in a time of grieving by memorizing this chapter, contemplating its richness:

25 “Righteous Father, though the world does not know you, I know you, and they know that you have sent me. 26 I have made you known to them, and will continue to make you known in order that the love you have for me may be in them and that I myself may be in them.” (Jn. 17:25,26 NIV)

Once I became immersed in the project of Bible translation I was forced to study the meaning of texts in a deeper way than ever before. Working through 1st and 2nd Peter woke me up to treasures there that I knew I needed to “hide in my heart.” I memorized them. Doing that gave me focus on the spiritual growth that Peter was promoting, and aligned my heart increasingly with what matters to my Lord.

It was something I had never thought I would do: memorize whole books. And I found out that I did not have the great long-term memory I had hoped for. Unless I kept on repeating the lengthy sections out loud, I could not remember the whole chain of thought.  Nevertheless the process forced me to contemplate each verse and its connection to the context while I was working on it. I was deeply nourished.

During the last two years a partner in our mission led anyone who wished to join in memorizing James, then the Sermon on the Mount. Wow! Some of you may have noticed that during that time, my blogs usually focused on what I was learning and applying from those passages.

Adele Calhoun points out that the motivation that incites one’s practice of memorization is the desire “to carry the life-shaping words of God in me at all times and in all places.” [1]Yes, that is it! The goal is not to show off or to earn rewards, although that often helps kids work at it. As a disciple of Jesus, yearning to know his heart and his instructions, it is about plunging into a passage in a way that will root one’s heart more firmly in the Word. Repetition of the teaching forces you to think about it.

I have experienced the Lord’s voice convicting me of false assumptions and behaviors. And he has also encouraged me to focus on spiritual growth in new ways, as in these verses:

His divine power has given us everything we need for a godly life through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness. 4 Through these he has given us his very great and precious promises, so that through them you may participate in the divine nature, having escaped the corruption in the world caused by evil desires (2 Pet. 1:3 NIV)

Knowing him—yes, that is my goal. But I had not meditated on the fact that he has given us everything we need to live a life deeply attached to him, even to the point of participating in the divine nature !

This spiritual practice is not one that fits every phase of life. Sometimes attention is drawn in other directions through life pressures and requirements. But I can testify that it has been a discipline that has truly helped me “to keep my heart aligned with his true Word, to maintain love in my world, love him, draw near,” as expressed in the introductory poem. What I’ve learned is to notice the pull of a certain passage, whether it is through my own study or a group memorization effort, and to then hide it in my heart. I am not the only one! My mother-in-law memorized all of 1st John in her 90s, joining a project in her church. She had some failing memory issues, but was devoted to the Word, and made it through! That was one of the reasons I dove back into memorization, myself.

It is one way to journey with the psalmist:

Oh, how I love your law! I meditate on it all day long. (Ps. 119:90 NIV)

If you would like to profit from John Piper’s blog on the key importance of this process, visit https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/memorizing-scripture-why-and-how . He quotes both Dallas Willard and Chuck Swindoll, underlining that memorization is “absolutely fundamental” to growth, and extremely rewarding. I agree!

[1] Calhoun, Adele Ahlberg. Spiritual Disciplines Handbook: Practices that Transform Us. (Downers Grove, Illinois: IVP Books, 2005), 176.

The Solitude of Two

The solitude of two:
Not me alone,
though I am closeted,
the door pulled to,
and only I sit in my lair.
It’s me and you,
and you are everywhere.

My heart’s a waiting place
anticipating your venue.
The world is narrowed
to a cell, to give you space
to do your work in me.
And all is well
when we keep company.

Have you ever wondered how to have a “prayer closet,” a private space free from people’s eyes and from interactions? It was a dilemma for me in Ferkessédougou, Côte d’Ivoire, a family living with us, our homein a courtyard surrounded by other courtyards, including the town square across a road constantly filled with huge trucks parked for respite on their long trips north and south for commerce.

Then I discovered my early morning “sacred grove,” under golden rain trees. But how about when it was raining? Sometimes I would settle for my bedroom window, a bamboo chair pulled up close for air and a view of nature. And sometimes I would head to the big meeting-place gazebo in our back yard, setting a candle on the ledge beside the wild berry bushes.

Here in Detroit, I have my attic “skyhouse,” with a sitting room, candles and a view of trees and rooftops down the street.

It has been essential for me, this solitude, a time carved out away from distractions. I’ve had to set up my spaces in handy places where I didn’t need to drive somewhere. That kind of outing would be for longer retreats, and there are wonderful options. But daily solitude is also healthy. As Dallas Willard says, it is a priority among spiritual disciplines, defined as a place where we can find freedom from ingrained patterns of feelings, interactions and actions “that hinder our integration into God’s order.”[1]  159

Why this desperation?  I was finding that certain authors were becoming my mentors. As I read about the importance of wrenching free from demands and from anything drawing my attention away from a time dedicated to just being with my Lord, I searched out ways to be alone with him. That is why it Is really a “solitude of two,” time set aside to concentrate on being with him.

What these “mentors” were writing is true: solitude opens up the opportunity to practice other disciplines. It is hard to even write about its benefits without mentioning silence, listening, prayer, practicing the Presence, journaling, examen . . . our lists can go on and on. We are giving “God’s Spirit time and space to do deep work.”[2]

Some people live alone. How could the practice of solitude be at all meaningful, when finding company in life is a constant felt need? It is important to differentiate this kind of time apart from the sadness of constantly being alone. “Loneliness is inner emptiness. Solitude is inner fulfillment. Solitude is not first a place but a state of mind and heart.”[3]  We don’t need to fear being alone, because we are not alone; our Lord is constantly with us. We need to pay attention to that. Community is healthy. The two balance each other.

Solitude is not a place. It actually is possible to practice it while surrounded by a crowd; it just takes a different kind of self-control, letting go of attachment to all that is going on. I had to learn that when a public event would be launched early in the morning in the town square just over our courtyard wall. I had to learn to not let that control me as I practiced solitude in my “sacred grove.”

 “In the midst of noise and confusion we are settled into a deep inner silence.”[4] We are tuning our inner ears to a different Voice, one best heard when we let go of the cluttered cacophony of what is going on around us as well as in our heads and hearts.

There are so many examples in Scripture of how Jesus practiced solitude. Here are a few: his 40 days in the desert before launching his ministry (Mat 4:1-11), a night alone before choosing the Twelve (Luke 6:12), when he heard that his cousin John had been killed (Mat 14:13), after feeding 5,000 people (Mat 14:23), after healing a leper (Luke 5:16), before his Transfiguration (Mat 17:1-9), and before his crucifixion (Mat 26:36-46). If he needed that time apart with his Father, think how much more we need it? We have ears unaccustomed to that divine interaction, ears that need training.

I noticed that even Paul found solitude in the middle of a very pressured journey, hurrying to get to Jerusalem by the day of Pentecost. As the ship stopped in various places, he was saying goodbye to many he had been discipling. Time was loaded with crowds, and then he preached all night and a young man sitting on a windowsill fell asleep and fell out, died, and was raised to life (Acts 20:6-12). Luke and his other companions went back to the ship and sailed to the next destination, Assos, where they were going to take Paul aboard. Why wasn’t he with them? He had decided to walk from Troas down to Assos. On the Roman road connecting them, that would have been about 31 miles. So commentators think it would have taken two days, maybe more. Now that is some time apart, alone! He had just experienced trauma, and now was headed for Jerusalem where he would be persecuted. The Spirit had told him he would suffer there (Acts 20:22-23). Like Jesus, he knew he needed that solitude—walking, in his case—to be prepared.

That is another way to carve out solitude: taking a walk. I sometimes use earbuds to listen to music or audio Scriptures while walking alone in my neighborhood. But lately I have felt the Lord prompting me to be silent, to listen to him, or to turn that time into a prayer walk. My days are full now that I am “working” in the ministry of Bible translation again; I need to untie myself from to-do’s and must-do’s and what-if’s. As Foster puts it, “Rather than chafing and fighting, become still and wait.”[5]

In addition to detaching from external noise, we must quieting our inner noise to better listen to God.[6] When it becomes a part of our lifestyle, it is no longer a scary struggle to let go of preoccupations. Instead, it is a haven of rest and strengthening.

For those who are homebound, just schedule it, or designate a chair or room as your protected retreat for solitude. Most of us have many options. Let’s not ignore this nourishment for our inner being that prepares us to live with the Lord, and walk with him.

When we are in love with someone, we long for moments alone with them. When we’ve been through tough times, we long for quiet rest—even time secluded in nature. When we are called out of the bustle into that special place, we jump to respond. So here is a verse that speaks to the yearning in our hearts, a message from the One who is love, and loves us intensely. Our hearts can leap to be with him, alone:

Come away, my beloved, and be like a gazelle or like a young stag on the spice-laden mountains. (Song of Solomon 8:14 NIV)

[1] Willard, Dallas. The Spirit of the Disciplines: Understanding How God Changes Lives. (HarperSanFrancisco, 1991),159

[2] Calhoun, Adele Ahlberg. Spiritual Disciplines Handbook: Practices that Transform Us. (Downers Grove, Illinois: IVP Books, 2005), 112

[3] Foster, Richard J. Celebration of Discipline: The Path to Spiritual Growth. (San Francisco: Harper and Row, Publishers). 84

[4] Ibid.

[5] Ibid., 91

[6] Calhoun, 111

Practicing Silence

The words come crashing in
like chattering kids.
They're only in my head
but they are deafening.

I cannot stem the tide.
A billion babblings 
jostle for position.
One sinks, one bubbles up.

He says, "Be silent,"
and I long for quiet
to listen for his voice,
to know that he is God.

I'm desperate to hear him
through the clatter,
within static and
underneath the noise,

Somewhere at a center point
is silence, deep inside
my cluttered cave.
And he is there.

If you’ve been following my journey, you’ve heard about my “sacred grove,” the space in my courtyard in Ferkessédougou, Côte d’Ivoire, where I retreated for about three hours early Saturday mornings. Why was it “sacred”? Because it was “set apart,” consecrated for a spiritual discipline I knew I desperately had to observe. There I could be alone for a small slice of time, and practice being quiet. Well, not really “alone”! I was there with my Lord.

It was essential for my well-being. I needed respite from interactions and from my work in Bible translation that involved delving into several languages. As exegete, I studied the original language versions of texts, Greek or Hebrew, using resources in English, then I explained them in French and Nyarafolo to my coworker, who suggested the Nyarafolo equivalent of that original meaning. It was deep and challenging, and I loved it. But it left my head swirling with concepts and words. And we lived in a culture that valued community highly, so we either had visitors or went visiting many times, and often shared our home with others. It was all a huge blessing., even if we longed for that introvert solace that would strengthen us for the next day.

We were learning that life needs to have sacred rhythms. We need community, we need to love others with our time and energy. Working with words and the Word was (and is) my passion. On the other hand, it can become overwhelming. It’s like running a marathon and not getting rest before taking off in another direction, or like eating constantly without a few hours between meals. The soul needs time to rest, to find space where the deluge of noise retreats and leaves behind a refuge of quiet—like how it feels to leave a busy city and sit under a tree beside a river.

While practicing lectio divina, I was struck by the requirement to be silent that is listed as the final element in the fourth step. After reading the text, meditating on it, asking God for illumination, then comes contemplation. It includes thoughtful prayer, but also listening for God to speak. And in order to hear the other person clearly when in conversation, we need to stop talking.

Do you have an acquaintance who is a non-stop talker? Can you get a word in edgewise? I was convicted, several years ago, of being that kind of a pray-er. I was blabbing my praise, my petitions, my plans to the Lord. Then I went on my way. I was not listening. Brad Jersak uses this illustration: what would it be like to have a friend or loved one call you, give you news, but never give you a chance to respond before they hang up?[1] I was convicted.

When I read Invitation to Solitude and Silence, by Ruth Haley Barton, I knew that I needed to find a way to practice those two aspects of spiritual formation. Without them I was at a blockade, no way forward. The are practices of abstinence, of letting go of something to make space for the Lord to work. I needed to give up my own obsession with thinking, writing, interacting with people and being productive.

When I still had kids at home it was a challenge even to find space for a “quiet time” in the morning. Most times I could squeeze it in while a little one played beside me on the front porch, or the older ones got into their books. Now they were gone, but if I sat on the front porch I would get visitors, kind people coming to greet on their way to work or to go use the well in our back yard. I finally told everyone in our courtyard that on Saturday mornings, if I was sitting under the golden rain trees by the front wall, I was not to be bothered except if something was urgent. I had solitude there, something that is the twin of silence. Sure, there was still the noise of city trucks and people across the road in the town square, but I could learn to switch off my attention to those and learn to be silent. I longed to find peace in the noise, to shut off the tumult of noise in my own inner being, to find silence, and listen.

It took practice, every time. The words roiling within were like a muddy pool after a strong rain—eventually the mud would settle, but it took time. After about an hour I would begin to experience inner quiet. And over and over, I would suddenly feel a prompting about some Scripture I had been reading, how it applied to me or to my work. Or nature around me would speak the Voice. When I grabbed my little notebook and my pen, often a poem would appear on the page. That was how I could “hear” the Voice most clearly.[2]

I know others who find that it is journaling that makes the whisper of the Lord heard to them. For one person, it is graphic art!

Of course what we think we “hear” needs to be measured for authenticity: is this just my own reasoning, or am I really becoming aware of the Lord’s part in this conversation? Does this line up with the Scriptures? Do I sense his reproval, or approval, or a challenge to move in a direction in line with his will? Is he just affirming his love, his presence? The message can take many forms. But as we listen, it draws us closer to our Lord, getting to know him personally as opposed to knowing about him.

As Dallas Willard says, “Only silence will allow us life-transforming concentration upon God.” He cites this verse: in quietness and trust is your strength (Isa. 30:15 NIV).[3]

In order to find a silent space, we need solitude, or at least a company of others who agree to practice silence. My husband and I found a way to do this together as the new year came upon us, parking our car down by the Detroit River, on Belle Isle, with no conversation for a couple of hours. There was peace and safety, but also silence as we watched the water and waited for the Whisper.

And when we practice this appropriately, even alone, we are never alone. After a few years I began calling it “the solitude of two.” Jesus is always there. I was just shaving away the distractions and concentrating on waiting, being quiet, making space for him to do or say what he might be waiting to do in me or say to me.

Practicing that silence during contemplation of Scripture is another essential application of this discipline. We are not only studying what is there, and asking God to keep his promises to us or to work this out in a loved one’s life, etc. It is important to wait, to hear how he wants the text to impact us. We can shut down our constant word-factory and wait, listening.

It can be a daily practice, and also a deeply meaningful one when we carve out a retreat, away from whatever is “normal” for us: busyness, work, physical activities, You-Tube, pleasure reading, games, community, hobbies–even music or conversations.

“From the dawn of time, we have needed our respites. Even the God-man himself was “led by the Spirit into the wilderness” (Matthew 4:1), “went out to a desolate place” (Mark 1:35; Luke 4:42), and “went up on the mountain by himself to pray . . . alone” (Matthew 14:23).”[4]

If I had not obeyed the impulse to spend that time in solitude and silence in my “sacred grove,” there is so much that I would not have heard. My journals are full of notes added after those hours. I know that I would never have had that collection of poems to publish in my book, When He Whispers: Learning to Listen on the Journey ! I also would have missed several lessons he was teaching me, that I was not paying attention to in the middle of the noise. Silence was a learning curve, an important one.

[1] Jersak, Brad. Can You Hear Me: Tuning in to the God Who Speaks. (Fresh Wind Pr; Revised edition, January 1, 2003).

[2] My learning curve is traced in my book that contains some of that poetry:  Boese, Linnea. When He Whispers: Learning to Listen on the Journey. (Westbow Press, 2021).

[3] Willard, Dallas. The Spirit of the Disciplines: Understanding How God Changes Lives. (HarperSanFrancisco, 1991),163

[4] Mathis, David. https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/take-a-break-from-the-chaos