Contemplation: Your Love Calls

If you did not love us
we would not exist.
If you did not woo us
we’d not come to you.
If you did not call us,
we’d never find you.

So yes: you do love us!
You woo us with singing,
your voice whipping through
every blast, each storm,
to draw us so close
we can hear your heart.

And you insist that
we love you back!
This is not just
a one-way street;
mutual love is
where we meet!

When we love you
with all that we are,
we’re firmly bonded,
no holds barred—
we are all yours
and you are ours!

When I think back on the years I have spent on Bible translation, I am inexpressibly grateful for the way it forced me to dig into the Word in ways I never would have otherwise. It kept me on a learning curve!

I had an opportunity to share some of that the other night with a community of women, and putting together that message clarified for me how certain themes interlocked. We often had to do intense searches in the commentaries, dictionaries and other resources to fully understand a term. Then we had to look for clear ways to express the meaning of the text in Nyarafolo.

The greatest commandment was one that we had encountered in Mark, the first book translated, then in Deuteronomy. It had been interesting to find out that the “heart” was not the center of emotions or thinking among the Nyarafolo. A literal translation would have meant little to them! And did the Nyarafolo consider a part of a person to be their “soul”? Even English has to wrestle with it:

Love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. (Deut. 6:5 NIV)

You must love8 the LORD your God with your whole mind, your whole being, and all your strength. (Deut. 6:5 NET)

When the commandment was first given, the Hebrews viewed the heart as the seat of the mind, the place where thinking happened. By the time Mark was written in Greek, the word “mind” was added to the command because the meaning of “heart” was different in Greek so the addition of “mind” underlined the “thinking”:

Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength. (Mk. 12:30 NIV)

In other words, what is important is to love God with everything that is essentially you! The New English Translation, which includes masses of helpful notes about translation, has this comment with regard to Mark 12:30: “The fourfold reference to different parts of the person says, in effect, that one should love God with all one’s being.” That is essentially the meaning of “soul” as well: it is the person, the part that endures whether the body does or not.

In Nyarafolo the fungo, “stomach,” is the center of the will and decision-making; the heart reflects what the stomach decides and transmits it as feeling. So in the greatest commandment, that word “heart” is translated as fungo, the stomach. Think about how the KJV used the term “bowels of mercy” to connote deep feeling, now translated in modern versions as “heart of compassion” using the same term “heart” as in the Greek (cf. Col. 3:12). Evidently the English culture of the KJV era tied intense emotion to the abdomen! Now those of us from a Western culture that speaks English tie the heart to emotion.

We found a word that essentially connotes “soul” in Nyarafolo, and “strength” was literally easy.

Here is a crucial question: why does God insist that we love him? Contemplating that reminded me of the struggle we had as we looked for a way to translate “godliness” in the New Testament. To summarize our long search, we eventually agreed to follow the solution of a French translation, “attachment to God.” This does not refer to simply feeling attached to someone; rather, it describes a firm bonding.

Think about the imagery of the Vine and the branches in John 15. The branch that is securely attached to the essential trunk of the Vine is healthy and produces fruit. If not, it shrivels and is useless. That deep bonding is essential,

4 Remain in me, as I also remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me. 5 “I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.  (Jn. 15:4-5 NIV)

This is imagery that pictures love, intimate love. His love flows into the one securely attached to him, just as the branch is fed by the Vine. Then the branch is healthy and can produce good fruit. This reinforces the meaning of the word “love” in the greatest commandment, which was the key element of the covenant God made through Moses: its meaning is “covenant love,”[1] a love that binds together the parties in the covenant. How do we become filled with that loyal love that never ends? That is the work of his Spirit, who lives in us.

. . .God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us. (Rom. 5:5b NIV)

As that love flows into us, it is a natural response to love him in return, as well as to love others as ourselves, because that is the kind of love that is his.

We love because he first loved us. (1 Jn. 4:19 NIV)

There it is. If we stay firmly bonded to him, his love fills us, changes us, equips us to love God with everything that is in us—and to love others as well. That is how the entire law is obeyed (cf. Matthew 28:40).

Being firmly bonded means there is intimacy, spending time together, sharing life. Any true love relationship here on earth is characterized by that. So when we want to increasingly experience that mutual love with our God, we need to spend time with him, pay attention to his directives and promptings, and express our love in words and in actions.

We should each take a moment to check our reaction to this great love command and evaluate our progress. Ask: How important is it to me to love God with everything that I am? How is he calling to me, wooing me, to use “all my strength” to develop this relationship?

We need to remember this essential truth: his love calls us to love him back!

[1] NET note on Deut. 6:5:  8 tn The verb ) אָהַב’ahav, “to love”( in this setting communicates not so much an emotional idea as one of covenant commitment. To love the LORD is to be absolutely loyal and obedient to him in every respect, a truth Jesus himself taught (cf. John 14:15).

Breathe, Let Go!

Breathe out your distress,
breathe in my caress,
the nourishing air
of my Spirit’s care
for your soul.

Let your head rest
in peace on my chest
the one place where
you can safely dare
to let go!

That word from my Father has comforted me over and over. He truly wants us to come to him, lie against him in trust, and let go.

“Let it Go” is even a very popular song with kids, especially little girls, right now. It speaks to them. Why worry about what other people think? Just be you.

For those of us who are God’s children, this expression goes much deeper. It is “learning the lessons of letting go so that you will be prepared for the final letting go of death”—that is the last item in the long list of God-given fruit of the practice of “detachment” provided by Adele Calhoun.[1] It’s true that we are fragile humans, with a limited life span. But we also want to know how to live in this moment free of care, trusting outcomes to God rather than ourselves.

David’s heart cry speaks to me:

My heart is not proud, LORD, my eyes are not haughty;  I do not concern myself with great matters or things too wonderful for me.  2 But I have calmed and quieted myself, I am like a weaned child with its mother; like a weaned child I am content. 3 Israel, put your hope in the LORD both now and forevermore. (Ps. 131:1–3 NIV)

When I was studying Hebrew at seminary, one of just two women in the company of men in a certain class, this psalm was being discussed in the context of translation. The male professor mentioned that he thought the idea of the child being “weaned” was not important, just the fact that this was a little kid, at rest on his mom. I realized that few of the students there would have ever experienced breast-feeding a child, even if it was their wife doing it. And I knew that each of my three children, while still nursing, would tend to root around for more of that good milk when I would pick them up and try to just cuddle them. Once they were weaned, they were more apt to lie quietly against me, no longer fussing for food. So I raised my hand and offered that experience. Ah! There was a sigh of appreciation from some in the room The expression “like a weaned child” actually had relevance! (I’ve seen this in commentaries since then, too!)

And it underlined the precious message of this psalm for me. Even when leaning against a father’s chest (or a grandfather’s chest as in the photo above), a weaned baby is more likely to just relax. My God, my caring Parent, wants to cuddle me, to hold me close and let me “let go” of whatever is concerning me and instead to put my hope, my trust, in him. If people are judging me in a hurtful way, if I am being misunderstood, I can let go of my need for approval and rest in the unshakeable love of Abba. If the world around me is falling apart, there is one safe secure place where I am held. He is the one to run to:

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort (2 Cor. 1:3 NIV)

His compassion is his tender concern for us when we are in a difficult situation, suffering. And he not only feels that deep emotion for us, he knows what to do to console us. He does not just stand far off and think about it; he is ready to protect and soothe us. Remember that hymn by Charles Wesley?

Jesus, lover of my soul,

Let me to Thy bosom fly,

While the nearer waters roll,

While the tempest still is high!

Hide me, O my Saviour, hide,

Till the storm of life is past,

Safe into the haven guide,

O receive my soul at last!

It is right there in the second line: “let me to thy bosom fly!”  Jesus and the Father are one, and their love makes their “chest” the best place to relax and find safe release. Because God is who he is—completely good, reliable, trustworthy, forgiving, compassionate, wise—we can turn to him, letting go of our need to be in control and fix things, and just completely “let go.” This is a key element in the spiritual practice of “detachment.” We put the Father in charge. He will comfort us and let us know what we should do next:

This God, our God forever and ever– He will always lead us.” (Ps. 48.14 CSB)

May the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all. (2 Cor. 13:14 NIV)

We have this gracious gift offered to us through Jesus. The love of God calls out to us to come. The Spirit of God lives in us, our companion and counselor, ready to help whenever needed, walking through life with us.

So take this moment to crawl up onto God’s lap and rest. Just be quiet. “Let go!” It can only draw us ever closer to him!

[1] Calhoun, Adele Ahlberg. Spiritual Disciplines Handbook: Practices that Transform Us. (Downers Grove, Illinois: IVP Books, 2005), 95.

Clean up the Mess!


Deep inside the parched brown grass
doves hop expectantly.
Here and there they find their treasure: 
some crawling thing, breakfast.
But the allure of their dining room
is trashed: plastic bags, black or white,
dusted dull with filth, blown in by the wind.

A soul gets trashed like that as well:
accumulated garbage gleaned
from public places, now sequestered
in the inner mind, its spaces
cluttered, rottenness and rubbish
from the gutter left lying all around.

It’s time to scrape it out!
Look inside, take note, grab a rake
and nab it, burn it up in that
all-consuming fire of God’s own
holiness! Be strong and merciless
when it comes to worldly mess!

May it be good riddance,
a posture of true penance that goes 
beyond “I’m sorry!”, contrition leading
to submission, to determination
to maintain that sanctuary set apart
to a state of purity!

I was in my “sacred grove” back in Ferke watching the lovely doves, when I was distracted by scattered litter blown into the courtyard by the wind. Bags were continually ditched by people in the streets as they finished some “street food” purchased along the way, and the clutter kept building so much that the yard worker thought raking them up was useless. There would always be more!

That morning, it made me think about the way filth can clutter my own inner being as I ignore it and just keep pushing ahead. It could be “little stuff” like covering up a mistake with an excuse, or a resentment that ferments as it stays stashed in a corner. It could be selfish greed that leads me to coddle my desires while overlooking the need of that person next to me. It could be what I would call a major sin, only I let myself slide into it and cover it up. Or maybe I’m disgusted with a coworker’s attitude, and have become angry enough that I have slandered them or quarreled with them without showing any respect.

If I let my heart stay cluttered like that, I am not “living by the Spirit.” That was the problem Paul had with the Corinthians. For one thing, there was jealousy and quarreling among them, and that was enough to make them “worldly” instead of “spiritual”:

Brothers and sisters, I could not address you as people who live by the Spirit but as people who are still worldly– mere infants in Christ. 2 I gave you milk, not solid food, for you were not yet ready for it. Indeed, you are still not ready. 3 You are still worldly. For since there is jealousy and quarreling among you, are you not worldly? Are you not acting like mere humans? (1 Cor. 3:1-3 NIV)

The word translated “worldly” in NIV is σαρκινός, which means “having the characteristics of σάρξ (flesh) in its sensual, sinful tendencies; worldly, carnal.”[1] In other words, the Corinthians were so tied to their “normal” human ways of living that they could not digest solid spiritual food. They were letting their digestive tract remain clogged with clutter. Until that was addressed and their hearts were cleansed, they would remain spiritually immature. Babies.

It is important to pay attention to anything we are doing or thinking that does not align with Scriptural teaching, to be sensitive to the Spirit’s voice urging us to acknowledge any straying off the Path and then turn around, get back on track. This is the practice of confession and self-examination.

“True repentance means we open the bad in our lives to God. We invite him to come right in and look at our sin with us. We don’t hide by being good, moral people or in neurotic self-recriminations. We don’t pretend to be other than we are. We don’t disguise the truth by carting out all the disciplines we practice. We tell it like it is—without rationalization, denial or blame—to the only person in the universe who will unconditionally love us when we are bad. We hand over the pretense, image management, manipulation, control and self-obsession. In the presence of the holy One we give up on appearing good and fixing our sin. We lay down our ability to change by the power of the self. We turn to Jesus and seek forgiveness.”[2]

That is a true cleanup. That is what is necessary in order to be a “spiritual person,” to “live by the Spirit” and be able to actually keep growing up and becoming more like Jesus wants us to be, more like him.

11For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation to all people. 12 It trains us to reject godless ways and worldly desires and to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives in the present age (Tit. 2:11,12 NET)

To exchange godless ways for a godly life, living truly attached to God: that is the goal of a true believer.

Let’s live it out!

[1] Friberg, Barbara, and Miller, Neva and Friberg, Timothy. Analytical Lexicon of the Greek New Testament. (Trafford Publishing, 2006)

[2] Calhoun, Adele Ahlberg. Spiritual Disciplines Handbook: Practices that Transform Us. (Downers Grove, Illinois: IVP Books, 2005), p. 92

Firmly Plugged In

this body
composed of mass
and energy
(some intrinsic,
some renewable)
is a powerhouse
limited

it also houses spirit
breath of life
infused by God
and joined to body
to make
me

when I attach to him
his power
charges me
body and soul
with divine energy
with intimations of Eden
with power to act
with him

unplugged 
I peter out

This last week of “vacation” has been the opposite of what I had planned (more time at the lake, deep in the forest, isolated). People have been the theme, back here in Detroit. I can see why the Lord changed my plans and brought me back home, where I could practice hospitality and be a part of many truly meaningful conversations.

Nevertheless I have worked hard at maintaining my focus on lectio divina and contemplation of the Word. Maybe it was because my own energy felt like it could run out that this verse hit me in a new way:

Brothers and sisters, I could not address you as people who live by the Spirit but as people who are still worldly– mere infants in Christ. (1 Cor. 3:1 NIV)

The rest of the chapter is about the spiritual immaturity of the Corinthians—they could not handle deep teaching, just “milk” like babies in the faith. This means that “people who live by the Spirit” are mature, spiritually, able to digest hearty spiritual food. Most other English translations call them “spiritual people”. The Greek lexicons explain that these are people who possess the Spirit of God and are influenced by him. The immature ones are those still dominated by the “flesh,” their human nature.

So I take the application, “to live by the Spirit,” and understand the submission to God’s spiritual direction that is required. In the poem above, I had called it having the “power to act with him,” Totally attached to him, it is like being plugged in to the source of energy that motivates me to think and act in alignment with his purposes. I am not petering out, like a watch slowing down as its battery runs low. Instead, attached to him, firmly plugged in, I am being empowered to actually do what he has made me to do, what he is guiding me to do.

He kept me going this week, as he has in other intense periods. He has directed me to do and say some things that had not occurred to me as being in the program for these days. He knew! He brought me here, and made me more alert to his prompting by highlighting those words for me: live by the Spirit.

I urge you, as I urge myself: let’s stay attached to the Source of Life, our Counselor and Comforter! We receive the gracious favor of this intimacy when we give ourselves to him, committed to him as our Rescuer and King. This walk of faith does not stop with just belief in him and in salvation. That is the beginning, the immature baby stage when one needs to be fed simple truth, “milk.” Once we are truly his, attached to him, we can live by the Spirit, constantly growing more mature as he teaches us his deep truths and guides us to accomplish his purposes.

May it be so!

Where Joy Sprouts

“Therefore my heart is glad
and my tongue rejoices!”
Deep inside me is a place
where joy sprouts in darkness,
warm with body blood
pumping, thumping,
the beat of the soul.

It’s that place, invisible,
who and what I am.
Cells, tissue, tendon,
muscle and rustle of movement
bond wholly with me in
singing and sorrow.
Joy sprouts in that quiet.

Pushing through openings,
valves measuring volume,
clapping approval
and whirling it onward,
outward and forward
to lung, throat and finally
loosening my tongue!

I laugh for joy.
(Ps. 16.9)

I am at the lake, looking out the window in the Pine Room at Chalet Shalom, the legacy from Mom and Dad. This is just the third day of relishing the quiet and renewal of retreat. One of the goals that my friend and I agreed on, the first day, was to be alert for “moments of joy.”

Monday I was doing something I love (working on my memoir) at this ancient desk by the window when suddenly an adorable little bird lighted on the deck railing just a few feet away. I am not a birder so I don’t know who this was, this chubby guy with a speckled white chest and dark brown suit coat, wearing a scarlet stripe on his head. He stood there a minute, glanced toward me, and flew away.

“Thanks for the greeting, sir,” I said as I chuckled. It was an unexpected moment of joy.

Yesterday, walking around the lake in mist and occasional showers, I had to keep my eyes on the dirt road to avoid mudslides and puddles. Looking down at the intermittent carpets of fallen leaves, my heart kept leaping silently in my chest as I noted the occasional deep burgundy-red leaf glistening with drops of rainwater, surrounded by gold and tan leaves. Each one brought me a moment of joy, a delight in the stunning colors of autumn.

“I love that bursting burgundy!” I exulted out loud. What an imagination the Creator has! He not only put in place the incredible diversity of plants, he programmed the seasonal changes painted with master artistry: burgeoning green summer foliage that relaxes into fiery colors of autumn as the trees go to sleep, then silhouettes of bare trees against icy blue skies or whirling white snow, followed by the wake-up calls of buds and flowers and newborn leaves.

This morning mist was rising off the lake into the predawn blue-gray heavens. It is gradually evaporating, so that the orange treetops of the woods across the lake are lit by sunshine.

I keep my eyes always on Yahweh. With him beside me day and night, instructing me, always there to protect me, my heart is glad and joyful words burst out. You, my Lord, make known to me the path of life: the fog lifts and you direct my feet as I walk toward forever with you. There, joy will be our unending song. (Personal thoughts on Psalm 16:7-9,11)

What was your moment of joy today? Wherever you are, did you notice something that made your inner being rejoice?

Resting on the Rock

My Lord, my Friend, my God, 
you are my solid Rock.
All around, beyond your contours,
the land is full of thorns and thistles,
wasteland where the snakes hide out
waiting for prey.

But on this granite refuge,
sparkling with these tiny glints of mica
and underlined with flint,
I stand in peace. A tree grows in the cleft;
I’m in your shade.

So here I wait, secure and sheltered.
opening my heart-ears to your voice.
I rest, unafraid and grateful --
able to look beyond the brush
and get perspective. I am held here
on my precious Rock.

That last verse of the poem speaks “retreat” to me: waiting, opening myself to my God, resting, held. I was once on that physical rock, but wherever I go, my solid Rock is there to welcome me. 
Where do you like to get away to for a personal retreat? I’ve appreciated group retreats, and centers that provide specific spaces for retreat that include labyrinths, gardens, or warm indoor rooms during winter. I loved those three hours set aside Saturday mornings for time in my “sacred grove” back in Côte d’Ivoire. Those are all legitimate ways to find time apart with protection from ordinary life.

There are retreat centers all over the United States, along with many scheduled retreat conferences. When one needs spiritual direction, these are often truly helpful.Though for most of us the opportunity to slip away privately is rare, having an extended retreat that is unscheduled by others can be truly refreshing. Making it happen takes determination. Whether we can carve out one or two days, or maybe a week or a month, it requires leaving behind the noise and demands that hold us in place in order to stop, be still, listen, and respond.

Going off on our own retreat may be what opens the door to time set apart with the Lord. While overseas I grabbed  a few hours or a day by a river (near a small resort), or in a wilderness area like the rock above (always with others, for safety), or time beside the ocean when we were down south in the country. Each time, the impact of spiritual refreshment was palpable.

Next week I will be taking off for the Upper Peninsula of Michigan to the chalet-on-the-lake, the place that my parents built for their retirement home. They have been promoted to heaven. It is now a favorite spot for privacy, with little interference from the Internet or phones and community responsibilities. There are lots of ways to use time there; fixing up broken equipment and getting rid of clutter can be consuming. But one can also choose to walk in the woods, pick wildflowers or raspberries, or find a quiet nook to read and write. One can spend hours in contemplation, practicing silence and solitude—whatever appropriate spiritual discipline the Lord says to prioritize.
 
Usually I go there in mid-October with my husband, Glenn, to enjoy the peak of autumn colors. But this year he has activities tying him down in Detroit. My sister-in-law wants to get away too, but her husband is also unable to leave right now. So she and I have agreed to get away, just the two of us, respecting each other’s needs for space. There will be fellowship, of course. But we each need the renewal of retreat.

What will I focus on? Maybe if I share it here it will help me put these goals into practice:
     *     setting aside time for solitude and silence, listening (pen in hand, because that is one way I listen best)
     *     lectio divina and praying Scripture
     *     enjoying reflection: walking in the forest around the lake, sitting by the water
     *     self-examination: opening myself to the Spirit’s conviction and direction
     *     journaling of a different kind: writing my memoir of the Lord’s fingerprints on my life, how he shaped me for ministry and for ongoing growth
     *     community: journeying with my sister-in-law
     *     rest!: freedom of the pressure of daily work--translation and exegesis--and deadlines

It seems almost too good to be true! But Chalet Shalom at Piatt Lake has never let me down. Dad and Mom left a legacy that is bearing fruit in their children. It will be a long drive to get there, about six hours, but even intentional travel is part of retreat:

“When we drive, walk, hike, bike, or in some other way pilgrimage to a setting in which our sole purpose is to draw near to God, we habituate our desire and intention to draw near to God in the process of getting there. Every step to the park, every mile to the retreat center, is a declaration to ourselves (to our bodies, our minds, our desires) that we want to love God more, hope in him alone, and deepen our trust in him. Going on retreat to cultivate communion with God is a way to crucify the flesh and its passions.”[1]

I don’t know yet whether Linnea’s Lines will be written next week or if that will wait; it depends on what the Lord will be doing in me. He himself took time off from crowds, teaching, and meeting the challenges of his antagonists by going to a private space to pray, even all night (Mat. 14.23; Luke 5:12; 9:28). To become increasingly like Jesus, we also need to give ourselves that place of parentheses, of rest from the hubbub and preparation for what is coming next. If he needed it, so do I! He calls me and I answer:

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)
Yes, my soul, find rest in God; my hope comes from him. Truly he is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will not be shaken. (Ps. 62:5,6 NIV)

I know that this time apart will produce the fruit he intends. Here are some points of “God-given fruit” from retreat that Adele Calhoun lists:
·        in the company of Jesus, able to quiet the noise inside and out
·        making space in your hectic schedule for the Lover of your soul
·        developing the ability to hear the still, small voice of God
·        freedom from the need to be seen and to produce
·        resting in God
·        gaining perspective on God’s work and ways in your soul
·        ability to be, not just do[2] 

From the ends of the earth I call to you, I call as my heart grows faint; lead me to the rock that is higher than I. (Ps. 61:2 NIV)

Hope you can find time, some day, to get away for a time of rest on the Rock!

 
[1] Porter, Steve. “Going on Retreat: The Role of Good Intentions in Spiritual Formation.” April 21, 2016. https://www.biola.edu/blogs/good-book-blog/2016/going-on-retreat-the-role-of-good-intentions-in-spiritual-formation 
 [2] Calhoun, Adele Ahlberg. Spiritual Disciplines Handbook: Practices that Transform Us. (Downers Grove, Illinois: IVP Books, 2005), p. 66.

Hang in There!

Hang in there:
spin your web,
that intricate weaving
of who you are.
Wait there 
in the interval
between up and down,
swaying in the wind,
hanging on by threads
that hold you in place.
Do what I made you
to do— 
be what I made you
to be. 
 
Rest there
in the caresses
of my breath
while I take care
of the world
spinning around you, 
the hum of flying things,
the babble of masses.
Hang in your silent space
and wait,
ephemeral,
here today, gone tomorrow
but my design.
Mine.

I admit that it’s rare that a spider speaks to me, but this spider web mesmerized my eyes and spoke to my heart in a way I could not ignore. I was in my backyard in Côte d’Ivoire, enjoying the private quiet space reserved for me there on Saturday mornings, reflecting on the whirlwind activities of the past week and the exhaustion in my body and soul, trying to “be still and know” and finding it impossible. Then I looked up and saw the rising sunlight illuminate the ornate oval web, a laced work of art hanging quietly in space, held in place by long invisible strings attached to branches above us. Its job was to do what it was made for: wait, and be there for the critical moment when lunch would fly into its welcoming embrace.

I pulled out my pen, opened my notebook and began contemplating the intricacy of the web and the patience of the spider, quietly waiting. The words flowed out and touched my heart. I had been made for a purpose; my job was to do it, even if it was full of waiting and the challenge of trusting that I was being held by supporting threads I could not see.

My inner being relaxed, reassured of the Creator’s design and plan.

He was teaching me the spiritual discipline of reflection! I did not have a name for it then. But I knew that day after day he was using nature to impress truth on my heart. The birds were singing as they welcomed the new day; I was urged to praise the Risen Son. The smell of coffee as I raised my cup to my lips reminded me of his provision, delight coming out of earth and plants. Insects voraciously devouring a fallen mango could remind me to “taste and see that the Lord is good!” I might touch wet leaves and relish the memory of that rain we had been praying for, that had finally come last night.

The impact of the five senses as contributors to my spiritual growth was not something that I had noticed early on, even though it had been happening all my life. When I began to realize that the Lord was truly speaking through the world around me—whether I was at the beach or dealing with dangerous mudslides on a country road during a storm—the impact was even greater.

            This underlines the essential element in reflection: “C.S. Lewis once said that our greatest dignity as creatures is not in initiative but in response. God speaks, we hear. He knocks, we open. He sows the seed, we receive it. Sowing those seeds is God’s attempt to restore Eden to the wilderness of the human heart. Receiving them is how we work with Him to do it.”[1]

            We have to be receptive—we have to pay attention! God gave us our five senses for many reasons, and one of them is to be aware of the truth singing out to us from the world he made. “The reflective life is a way of living that heightens our spiritual senses to all that is sacred.”[2] An intentional pursuit of living reflectively involves developing other aspects of our spiritual formation, like practicing God’s presence. If we really believe he is with us and in us, and that his Spirit breathes wisdom and guidance to us, we need to be sensitive to that. Doing so will help us grow in our awareness of what he is teaching us, as well as in the process of transformation that he is accomplishing inside us as we keep company with him.

Contemplation is a key spiritual discipline in a reflective life. It “invites us to enter in to the moment with a heart alive to whatever might happen . . . Contemplatives are open to seeing the unseen world. They sift the days for symbols and scan the universe for meaning.”[3]

Ken Gire writes that as he learned to practice this, even paying attention to the arts, movies, books, and other people, they “all became my mentors, guiding me into a deeper relationship with the world around me. Which eventually led to the world inside me.”[4]

When that “world inside me” is also being fed by the truths of Scripture, the meaning of the symbols becomes clearer. Gire cites passages from the book of Proverbs that picture wisdom calling out in the noisy streets and the city square (Prov. 1:20-21) and at the crossroads and entrances to city buildings (8:1-5). I remember when the Lord called out to me those mornings when my quiet space in my “sacred grove” was being hammered by mechanics working nearby, or politicians broadcasting, or trucks revving up motors. Was my God still there, in the noise? Yes!

Wherever I am, in a quiet moment or in raucous hubbub, wisdom is there, God’s wisdom, “calling us to a different way of living.”[5]

Am I listening?

One of the other books that I believe the Spirit put in my path this year is This Sacred Moment: Becoming Holy Right Where You Are, by Albert Haase. It is rich in many dimensions, but this section leapt out at me:

“Over the years, every spiritual director I had challenged and encouraged me to develop a reflective lifestyle—an unhurried way of living that short-circuits spur-of-the-moment emotional outbursts or reaction. A reflective lifestyle incorporates meditative behaviors and contemplative habits that lead to informed and thoughtful responses. It also values time spent reviewing what’s going on in daily life and reflecting on what the five senses are experiencing, knowing such practices foster sensitivity to the variety of ways in which God calls us . . . It is about looking out the window and cultivating selfless openness to this sacred moment. The authentic fruit of such a lifestyle is the emptying of self for the enrichment of others.”[6]

What strikes me is that there are multiple pay-offs to living this reflective practice. Some of those mentioned are self-emptying, wise responses to words or circumstances, keeping company with God, listening to the Spirit’s prompts, and enjoyment of God’s creation.

All of this is aligned with our citizenship in the kingdom of God:

For the kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking, but of righteousness, peace and joy in the Holy Spirit, (Rom. 14:17 NIV)

Life in God’s kingdom has different priorities than those of the world. It is not about “disputable matters” (Romans 14:1), daily habits and preferences that are not spiritually significant. But it is about doing what is right, promoting and experiencing peace, and being joyful in the Spirit!  What does it mean to have joy in the Spirit? In addition to the grace we receive as he leads us, he also gives us that enjoyment of God’s creation and its deeper meaning. Even an exotic spider web can whisper a message in that sacred moment when the heart’s eyes and ears are open to observing and listening.

“Hang in there! . . . Do what I made you to do, be what I made you to be . . . Rest there in the caresses of my breath while I take care of the world . . . Hang in there!”

[1][1][1] Gire, Ken. The Reflective Life: Becoming More Spiritually Sensitive to the Everyday Moments of Life. (Chariot Victor Publishing: 1998), p. 49.

[2] Ibid., p. 75.

[3] Calhoun, Adele Ahlberg. Spiritual Disciplines Handbook: Practices that Transform Us. (Downers Grove, Illinois: IVP Books, 2005), p. 49.

[5] Ibid., p. 45.

[4] Gire, p. 43.

[6] Haase, Albert, O.F.M. This Sacred Moment: Becoming Holy Right Where You Are. (InterVarsity Press: 2010) pp. 75-76.

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.