Cling, Be Nourished!

Just cling,
cells interlocked,
bark intact,
and let the sap flow:
slowly but surely
through winter frost,
tingling gently, 
keeping you alive;
vibrantly pouring
when summer sun
saturates the world
with heat; 
a constant feeding 
in the sleep 
of night.
Rest, but cling,
fruit will come!

When I picture myself a branch clinging to the Vine, drinking in the nourishment of that intimate attachment, I am overwhelmed with gratitude that the Source of vibrant healthy Life wants me to be that attached to him. It is a grace, and not something to be ignored—because an unfruitful branch is useless.

Most of all, I want that Vine “sap” to flow into me consistently. Daily “quiet time” is a wonderful habit that makes space for that two-way relationship, for conversation between my Messiah and me. One fruitful practice to include in that time, at least in some regular fashion, is an ancient one called “lectio divina.” It is related to praying Scripture, and also involves contemplating its principles and applying them. Rich!

For years it was dismissed in evangelical circles as a Catholic practice, thus not relevant. But recently it has become increasingly valued for its contribution to development of intimacy with God. It evidently had roots in the Jewish practice of oral reading and memorization of the Scriptures, then was adapted to both private and group practice in the Western church in the fifth century based on its use by the Eastern desert mothers and fathers as a way to encounter God through Scripture[1]. After a while it became relegated to only the “spiritually elete,” and was no longer made available to common people. As a result, “the simplicity and power of praying back to God his holy Scripture also was lost.[2]

For many Christians, that is true today. Reading the Bible for information is a good practice, but adding a deep desire for spiritual formation through the practice is the other side that is essential to real growth. There are various ways to apply the heritage of lectio divina to personal use, but I appreciate a simple four-step approach that I can remember to apply as I open the Word in my quiet time. It actually is much like inductive study, but includes a greater emphasis on meditation and prayer. These steps are gleaned from several sources:

Lectio: READ Take time to read a passage more than once. This can be done orally, which may be helpful in maintaining focus and using one’s auditory faculties. I find that reading it silently works well for me.

Meditatio: REFLECT What does the text mean? What is God showing me through this passage? What are the principles that are being illustrated?

Oratio: RESPOND Turn your thoughts to direct communication with God. Pray. Use the passage as an outline for your prayer, especially the parts that the Lord has highlighted for you. It is good to turn this into conversation, where you take time to listen to how the Lord responds to what you are praying.

Incarnatio: RESOLVE  How can you live out what the Word has said to you? It may be helpful to make notes, to decide how to apply it concretely. Then go do it.

I find that these steps help me digest what I read, taking time to taste it, chew it, and let it nourish me. It is a practice new to me, one I’ve been implementing the past few weeks.

Let me give an example from my current reading through Acts. In chapters 20 and 21, Paul is eager to get to Jerusalem before Pentecost, and he has to take a long journey through Macedonia and Greece to get there. Along the way, he keeps getting warned that he is going to be rejected, and taken prisoner by the Romans. He had known from the start that hardship was ahead, as it had been in every city, yet he was “compelled by the Holy Spirit” to go anyway (20:22). It was different from other times, when he had avoided danger by leaving a city and going elsewhere (as in 17:13-15). Now he knew he must consider his life worth nothing. His one purpose was to accomplish whatever purpose his Lord had for him (20:24), sharing the Good News. He was saying goodbyes and encouraging believers to run that same race.

As I read sections of those chapters over the course of several days, I also reread them. Part of my contemplation has been taking time to also read the letters he eventually wrote to the communities where he had ministered, to add those teachings to what he knew was important for each one. I meditated on this commitment to obedience, no matter the cost. It spoke to me. Sometimes in my own life the Lord had told Glenn and me that it was time to escape danger, as when we evacuated from civil war in Côte d’Ivoire in 2022. And then there have been times when he said to leave fear behind and go do what he was putting before us, as when we returned to rebel-held territory there, three and a half years later.

What is he saying to me now? This has been underlined: I need to be listening to the Spirit for counsel, but meanwhile, continue to do what he has set before me until he makes a change or addition. Just like Paul, I need to be ready to stay where the Lord is using me right now, or go where he says there is a task he wants me to do. I re-evaluate my preoccupations, laying them out before him in prayer. Right now I know that he has assigned me the work of re-entering a full-time commitment to Bible translation, a complete change of direction from my activities during the last few years of retirement. He has told me to see it as his continued purpose for me, what he has prepared for me to do. Of what value is my life if I use it only for freedom from “work”—when instead he wants me to “complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me” (20:24). My life is not my own; it is his. I gave it to him decades ago. And that is what matters. I realize, too, that he is giving me joy on this journey.

Paul’s farewell to the Ephesian elders (20:1-28) is especially meaningful to me. As I pray through it, not just once but over several days of quiet times, I remember the wrenching farewells with our Nyarafolo “family” as we said goobye to different groups and retired, moving on to this phase. And my Lord is reinforcing the essential assignment given me (it is not over yet!), to spread the news of his grace wherever I am, whether through translation of his Word or in conversations with my neighborhood walking group. This is that important last step of Incarnatio, putting what I “hear” into practice in my life.

The process of lectio divina can be done with a short section of text in one sitting, but it is also worth practicing over days or weeks, depending on the length of the text being contemplated and the purpose given the disciple by the Lord. It is a useful approach to making sure that attachment to the Vine is a priority, being fed—a way of focusing on intimacy with our Master/Friend/Jesus, listening to his teaching and promptings as we digest that treasure of his Word, our daily nourishment:

so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, 18 may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, 19 and to know this love that surpasses knowledge– that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God. (Eph. 3:17 NIV)

As Adele Calhoun says, “Lectio divina invites us into God’s presence to listen for his particular, loving word to me at this particular moment in time[3].”


[1] Westerfield, Gloria Jean. “Lectio Divina: A Contemplative Approach to Intimacy with God.” (Asbury Theological Seminary ePlac; Dissertations, 2014), 29. https://place.asburyseminary.edu/ecommonsatsdissertations/688/

[2] Ibid., 30.

[3] Calhoun, Adele Ahlberg. Spiritual Disciplines Handbook: Practices that Transform Us. (Downers Grove, Illinois: IVP Books, 2005), 168.

In the House of Love

He makes his home in me.

And I, I live inside

this house of love,

his banner flapping bright above,

his pleasure my desire.

I bring him blooms to grace

the place he sets for me

(no matter that, outdoors,

corruption slimes the world

and evil lurks in gray).

I will not fear. For he is here,

my God, and where he is

we live in love. He who made

the jasmine and the violets

for his delight and mine

smells the worship in my offering

and smiles. Together we

will garrison my strength

against the storm here where it’s warm.

What does it mean to you, the truth that if you are God’s child, he lives in you? I know it takes a while for this to become truly relevant to a believer. Then, once the reality hits home, how does it influence the way that their relationship with God is understood? At first he seems far away, a God who loves his people but is seated on his throne. We keep on waiting for Jesus to return. The Spirit is to be our guide, our counselor, but we cannot see him.

And yet the Word says:

I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. (Gal. 2:20 NIV)

I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith.  (Eph. 3:16-17a NIV)

Christ lives in me!  Christ dwells in me—he makes his home in me!

When I began to purposefully set time aside to be with my Abba Father, my Master, my Jesus, I was still very young. All I did was read a few verses, pray briefly to put my concerns in his hands, and launch into the day.

Then InterVarsity Christian Fellowship, at MSU, taught me how to apply the inductive approach to leading Bible studies. We used it in groups, and it was a few years later that I realized I could apply it to my own time in the Word. It requires just three simple steps: observation (the facts in the text, who/what/where/when/why/how), interpretation (what does the text mean? what principles are underlined?), then application (how does this apply to me and to my context?)[1].

After a while, constant practice began making use of this method my new normal. It increased the impact of Scripture on my life and deepened my love for that “quiet time” set apart each morning for the Word. Eventually I added in journaling. Then my mission experiences made me yearn for yet deeper growth, and I researched spiritual formation—an ongoing passion.

A primal truth was beginning to become rooted in all this, one I had been taught since I was a child but that had not had much impact on me: that Jesus lives in me!

. . . God has chosen to make known among the Gentiles the glorious riches of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory. (Col. 1:27 NIV)

I was now married, learning that, when you live with someone, you need to talk to each other and truly share life. It is the only way for love and mutual understanding to grow. Jesus lives in me through his Spirit, and that is where all my hope has firm roots. In fact he is in me, and I am in him!

Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, (Rom. 8:1 NIV)

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here! (2 Cor. 5:17 NIV)

In this context, being “in” Christ refers to being in a relationship with him, belonging to him. So how could I work at strengthening that astonishing, amazing relationship?

The Word of God is available to me, in my language. I can study it, not zipping through some daily ritual of a few verses then moving onward into whatever was going on. It is nourishment for the soul, like daily bread—what we beg for in “The Lord’s Prayer.”

I know that many who are in the Lord’s Family are consistently having a daily “quiet time.” So I was taken aback by a title in the April 2023 issue of Christianity Today, “Wasting Quiet Time: If daily devotionals aren’t yielding true Bible fluency, is there a better way?[2]” Reading it, I saw that the authors were reacting to evidence they have seen in their ministries that “Bible literacy has been on an increasingly steep decline” in the United States, even for those who have daily “devotions[3].” They attribute it to “micro-dosing,” a practice of dipping into a few verses, even at random, instead of devoting oneself to true immersion in the Scriptures, which is often called “Scripture engagement.” Evidently surveys have shown that a smaller percentage of Christians even read the Bible daily than in the last decade, and many of those who do read it are not interacting with it in such a way as to find it applicable to their growth.

We can turn that around! Those authors recommend a greater emphasis on communal reading of Scripture, and that definitely has value, especially in contexts where it is not only a liturgical reading of a passage but also group discussion. That is where inductive study in groups is so useful.

But I am positive that meaningful individual interaction with the Word, applying oneself to truly understand passages in context and be spiritually nourished, is essential. We cannot depend on community reading alone to meet this need. Each of us can learn to do what contributes to our growth by doing what the Lord warned was necessary:

Jesus answered, “It is written: ‘Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.'” (Matt. 4:4 NIV, cf Deut. 8:3)

For those of us who have the Word at our fingertips, available in audio format as well, not digesting the Word is like being invited to a feast that includes all the most nutritious and delicious foods in the world and walking right past it all. If we let the Lord bless us with this food, we are strengthened, as John said in his letter:

I have written to you, children, that you have known the Father.I have written to you, fathers, that you have known him who has been from the beginning. I have written to you, young people, that you are strong, and the word of God resides in you, and you have conquered the evil one. (1 Jn. 2:14 NET)

Knowing God, relishing his taking up residence in us, walking through life with him and being increasingly strengthened, is fundamental. It is an intimate relationship, sharing every minute, every incident. If we ignore this undeserved, gracious benefit, it is as if we move in with someone and then every day say, “Good morning!’, walk out the door and treat them as no longer a companion.

And it is obvious that what he has told us, what he gave us in his Word, is key for knowing him and what he is teaching us. We are not to treat the Scriptures as a snack, but as our basic food. When translating what Jesus said, that he is the “Bread of Life,” into Nyarafolo, we had to decide what word to use for “bread.” There is a borrowed word used for the French baguettes brought into the country through the colonists, used as a side dish or quick snack along the road. A translation consultant explained that using it would not communicate the truth in this context, that this is not an occasional treat  but refers to the staple food (for Jews, the hearty bread accompanied with other sauces etc.). We grabbed that truth and used the Nyarafolo word for the basic starch that was for the daily meal, the “food.” And I learned a delightful truth. In English, “bread” referred to a side dish as well. Whereas when God gave manna to the wandering Israelites as their staple food, it was all they had to eat while in the desert. It was perishable, though, and so were those who ate it. But Jesus is the Bread of Life:

Your ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness, yet they died. 50 But here is the bread that comes down from heaven, which anyone may eat and not die. 51 I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats this bread will live forever. This bread is my flesh, which I will give for the life of the world.” (Jn. 6:49 NIV)

Jesus lives in us, and we live in him (digest John 17:13-23 for Jesus’ words about this amazing relationship and what it means). We need to get to know him better and better, not only thinking about what that means when we take communion. He left his Word with us, and we need to respect it as our staple food. Let’s enjoy the feast, and find ways to really pay attention to it, not wasting our daily “quiet time” but finding true nourishment there.

We’ll be investigating various study methods in the coming weeks, ways to truly do that! Peace to all of you who are in Christ. (1 Pet. 5:14 NIV)


[1] For more on how to do inductive study, one good resource is https://www.logos.com/grow/how-to-inductive-bible-study/ .

[2] Johnson, Dru and Durgin, Celina. “Wasting Quiet Time: If daily devotionals aren’t yielding true Bible fluency, is there a better way?” Christianity Today, April 2023. pp 62-71.

[3] Ibid., 69.





Powering Up

Exhaustion depresses
like bricks on foam
squeezing out air,
leaving you heavy,
squished, flat-out dense.

Sleep and love,
contemplation,
are nectar, nutrients
(just eat what fits).
Breathe in, exhale.

Find a place 
deep inside
a favorite space:
grab a book; take a look
at what brings you joy. 

In time you’ll stretch,
get back up
and power up
for life as usual,
ready to go, restored.

When you feel like you really need a break from “life as usual,” whatever that is for you, how do you get re-energized?  There are phases of life when it seems next to impossible, like when a mom is dealing with a newborn, or you’ve taken on a second job to make ends meet, or sickness has changed all plans. What a blessing it is if you live in a family or community where you can get some help!

But some of us are also prone to saying “yes” to too many things, or to viewing everything else as more important than ourselves. We may be in ministry and feel selfish if we take time off. Missionary life often had us in that kind of grip. Sometimes burnout was actually hovering, waiting for us to collapse. And I began to wonder: why did Jesus leave the crowds and go off to a mountain, on his own or with just a few friends? Of course, he was a man of prayer and needed that time with the Father. But he also was modeling a change of pace.

We often felt that we had to drive to a place far away to find that kind of protected environment, like the beach down south in Côte d’Ivoire. But then during our last decade there a new safe spot opened up: a place called “EcoFerme,” featuring an open-air restaurant with a deck built over the Bandama River just about  a half hour from home. If we went early in the day, no other guests were there. We could watch the water flowing by, listen to birdsong, talk quietly to each other. Ahhhhh! (The photo above was taken there on one such retreat.)

It was hard not to question whether it was right to take the time to do something like that. It did feel "less selfish" when we would take national friends or mission coworkers and share the delight. But we were also well aware that we needed to take care of ourselves in order to stay healthy in body and in our inner being, and for us, sometimes that meant time alone!

God made each of us, knowing us from the day we were conceived:
13 For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. 14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. 15 My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. 16 Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.  (Ps. 139:13-16 NIV)

When we make something, we care about it. If I have baked a cake and left it cooling on a rack, I don’t want some careless child to hop through the kitchen swinging a toy and knock it off the counter. When my husband spent days installing laminate on the floors of our old house, replacing worn carpet, we all began to make special efforts to wipe up any liquid that fell on it. God made our bodies and our inner being, and cares about how we use them. He even wants us to take good care of them. I think of Psalm 23, and how the Good Shepherd leads his flock beside still waters and in green pastures; he also spreads a table of food before his dear ones and fills their cup to the brim. So should we not cooperate with him?

This does not give us license to waste our time and money in lavish ways that take no consideration of how he is guiding us. It does not mean caving in to addictions that may drive us, such as unhealthy use of food or drink or drugs, entertainment, or adrenaline-soothing activities.
 
But he made it a rule that one day out of seven should be a day of rest. And he wants us to take care of the bodies he made for us. By turning away from harmful activities and following his counsel, we can thrive:
Do not be wise in your own eyes; fear the LORD and shun evil. 8 This will bring health to your body and nourishment to your bones. (Prov. 3:7 NIV)

Another command that always comes to my mind when I reflect on self-care is the one to “love your neighbor as you love yourself,” referenced over and over (Lev 19:18,34; Mat 19:19 and 22:39; Mark 12.31,33; Luke 10:27; Rom 13:9; Gal 5:14; James 2:8). If it is repeated that many times in all those contexts, it is indeed essential for living in a way that conforms to God’s values. And it is impossible to love one’s neighbor appropriately if one does not love themselves and take care of themselves as they should.

You have probably heard much of what is out there about taking good care of yourself physically, mentally and emotionally. Weighing what we read or hear against what the Word says is necessary. Listening to a wise mentor or prayer partner, sharing our challenges also can smooth the path. Physical and emotional issues change with seasons of life and have their impact. But we can choose to do what is right to keep ourselves healthy and useful to the Lord for his purposes. If we don’t take care of ourselves it will wear us down. So it is right to exercise, pay attention to nutrition, work at getting good sleep and take a break when needed. It is right to thank God for who he made us to be, how he designed us, and to honor those gifts.

Jesus loved us so much he gave himself for us. Part of being grateful for his love, and for the gift of life, is to treat that gift with respect. When we value ourselves the way that he does, we can then value others that way too. I see that as another way to understand loving ourselves and then loving others the same way. Just as we do not want to do harm to ourselves, we don’t want to do harm to others. Instead, we want health to reign in every way possible. When it is not possible to change a situation, we need to lean on our Father, Lord, Shepherd, Guide. He will direct our steps. When I am his, he lives in me, and will show me how to take care of this shared dwelling.

I am glad that he values rest, sustenance and loving relationships. He intended the world to be founded on those. Because of its brokenness, we will go through times when suffering, deprivation or evil actions cut into them. But each of us can do our part to live by his values, honoring the bodies he gave us and our needs for well-being, respecting the opportunities given to us.

As Adele Calhoun puts it, self-care that accompanies spiritual formation is “practicing self-awareness rather than self-absorption,” and “valuing yourself as Jesus values you.”  Is is to “intentionally receive ourselves as God’s own beloved,”[1]  which empowers us to love and forgive both ourselves and others.  This gives me permission to work at having healthy limits and to take advantage of the opportunities that he gives me to take care of myself – even sitting by a river in the company of birds instead of always being hard at work!
  
[1] Calhoun, Adele Ahlberg. Spiritual Disciplines Handbook: Practices that Transform Us. (Downers Grove, Illinois: IVP Books, 2005), 71,72.










All I Have is Yours

This month you told me,
“Hold on lightly to possessions;
all you have is mine.”
Then you brought me
chances to let go:
my sweater to the shivering boy,
my shirt to the cadavre
(swollen past the size of her own clothes),
my mat to the child who had no bed,
my socks to help the traveler.
Yes, all I have is yours!

At the time, I thought I was pretty good at letting go of things that meant a lot to me. After all, I was a missionary who had left the comforts of America for a much simpler lifestyle in West Africa, in a tough climate, with limited availability of most goods. We had said to goodbye to our children as they grew up and went to college. After all, I loved the song: “All to Jesus I surrender, all to him I freely give . . .” I had dedicated my life to following him.

Then I met a series of challenges to my self-image. Maybe I was not so unattached to my possessions as I had thought. I was in a crowd at a celebration, one of the only foreigners there. As the cool air of night began to push away the daytime warmth, a little boy near me began to shiver. I had reached into my bag to pull out my light sweater, having thought ahead. But the sight of his quiet self-hugs, attempts to warm up, touched my heart. I wrapped my sweater around him. Felt kind of good to know I had done the right thing!

Then one of our night guards suddenly lost his young adult daughter to death when she was poisoned by an outdated medication purchased in the market. He was one of our Nyarafolo believers, and we quickly joined the crowd gathering to accompany them in their grief. Because I had a car, I was asked to take several women relatives to the hospital morgue to prepare the body for burial. As we stood around the cadaver, the oldest one took the lead, gently bathing the corpse. They had found one of the young woman’s best outfits to dress her in, a fancy top and wrap skirt. The skirt was adjustable so it fit, but her upper body was swollen as a result of the poisoning; the blouse would not go on. I felt the strong prompt from the Lord: “Your t-shirt is stretchy; give it to them.” I did. It stretched enough to cover her. I wrapped my own wrap-skirt higher to cover my chest and drove the women by my house, so I could find a top to wear. I had loved the soft t-shirt I had just donated; it was one of my newest, softest ones. But it was right to have met that need.

Other moments began to hit me like that, one after another. Not only were my possessions not my own, time was not my own. We had been working at building relationships in the community. Now visitors were showing up during meals (which naturally, in that cultue, the host shares) or in the evening when we were hoping to relax and head to bed. Even personal space needed to viewed as dispensable. A new pastor and his wife were desperate for housing while getting settled; we had empty bedrooms. Now all of life was shared, time and house space as well.

We saw the Lord provide for others through us, but we also were learning what it really means to relinquish our hold on what we treasure. He was showing us where we needed to loosen our grip on certain aspects of life we deemed our own. It was worth it, as we entered into a new kind of freedom from being chained to those things.

The process the Lord was taking us through is called in many circles “detachment.” Eastern religions use it to work at getting rid of the things that tie you down and limit the forms of spiritual development that are their goal. In Buddhism, for example, “The Law of Detachment indicates that we should give up our attachment to things, which doesn’t mean that we give up our goals; we don’t give up the intention but rather the interest in the outcome. At first glance, it may seem a trifle or an insubstantial change but in fact, is a huge transformation in the way we understand the world and our way of living. . . At that time, we adopt a more relaxed attitude, and though it may seem counterintuitive, it is easier to get what we want. This is because the detachment is built upon trust in our potential, while attachment is based on fear of loss and insecurity.”[1] For that philosophy of detachment, the element to get rid of is the fear of loss, gaining “trust in our potential.”  Hinduism views it similarly, insulate yourself from the emotional effects of setbacks and failures in both your personal and professional lives . . .  removing worry and anxiety from your mind. You can also increase your chances of success by concentrating on your own performance rather than the results.”[2]

Contrast those uses of detachment with what Ignatius wrote, that detachment is about “making use of those things that help to bring us closer to God and leaving aside those things that don’t.”[3] This is what makes sense to me. It requires following the Spirit’s guidance as he shows us what those things are, whether it is through the Word or experiences—like the ones I was going through. Learning detachment was not only about becoming less selfish or anxious, although those were some of the consequences. It was not just about achieving my goals. It was about joining the Lord in his purposes in ways that a person could not while they are clutching to “rights” or possessions.

Adele Calhoun summarizes the practice as replacing our various attachments to anything with “wholehearted attachment to and trust in God alone.”[4]

When we were trying to translate the concept of being “godly” into Nyarafolo, a French translation (Français Courant) gave us a great solution, being “attached to God.” As that attachment grows in maturity and health, we learn to truly live as he desires. And his ways are all good ways. They do not conform to all cultural expectations, including views of possessions, status, productivity, and relationships that are self-serving rather than God-serving.

Sound radical? Yes! Learning to “let go” is a process that requires dedication. In fact, it is ongoing. There will come a time when we need to let go of this life, too. Mortality is reality.

For the moment, what is important is “keeping company with Jesus in the letting go.”[5] He will show us what that means in our situations. It is not about retreating to live alone in a cave, with literally no possessions or obligations except those viewed as necessary to one’s own growth. It is about following his lead in each circumstance, not letting anything get in the way of obedience.

When Jesus sent out his disciples on their first mission, he told them: Take nothing for the journey except a staff– no bread, no bag, no money in your belts.” (Mk. 6:8 NIV) He was teaching them to rely on his provision. When we left for Africa, he did not tell us to go without anything, but to take what would give our family stability. We did have to figure out how to live simply while having what was needed for our ministry and for the kids’ well-being. Once there, we had to be ready to be yet more flexible as we learned about cultural values that we needed to adapt to, good cultural values like “open house, open home” with respect for community.

None of this is said to vaunt us! It was not always easy! But that learning process sanded off many rough spots in our character and showed us increasingly what it meant “to live for Christ” (Phil. 1:21), and more and more what this radical verse means:

“I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” (Gal. 2:20 NIV)

When I reflect on the life that Jesus lived, going where he needed to go to complete his mission, depending on his followers for sustenance, not looking for accolades from the VIPs of his nation, I am encouraged again to just follow him. He knows the plan and the purpose he has for me. I am not to let earthly attachments keep me from discovering what that purpose is and living it out!

Wouldn’t it be wonderful to hear those longed-for words from our beloved Master some day: “Well done, good and faithful servant!”? Yes!

So let’s practice detachment. Let’s let go of attachments that get in the way of loving others the way Jesus loved us and gave himself for us, whether they are attachments to wealth, status, labels, time, privacy, the approval of others, or any addictions. I am still learning as he directs my life into activities and places I had not dreamed of. I am so grateful for his patience and the way he does indeed lighten the load I am carrying by showing me what things need to be dropped, and what things he values. He also gives us many other good practices to be attached to, like ones I’ve already been contemplating in this blog: celebration, worship, rest, journaling. Self-care is important, and I’ve had to learn a lot about that too. What is key is being free to “run the race” he has given us:

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, 2 fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. (Heb. 12:1 NIV)

This hymn, written by Judson W. Van De Venter back in 1855 on a farm here in Michigan, really nails it:

1 All to Jesus I surrender,
All to Him I freely give;
I will ever love and trust Him,
In His presence daily live.

Refrain:
I surrender all, I surrender all;
All to Thee, my blessed Savior,
I surrender all.


[1] Delgado, Jennifer.  https://psychology-spot.com/the-law-of-detachment-what-can-we-learn/  

[2] Yadav, Amisha. Vairagya: Hindu Art of Detachment

[3] Ignatius, First Principle and Foundation, quoted in  https://www.ignatianspirituality.com/ignatian-prayer/the-spiritual-exercises/the-meaning-of-detachment/

[4][4] Calhoun, Adele Ahlberg. Spiritual Disciplines Handbook: Practices that Transform Us. (Downers Grove, Illinois: IVP Books, 2005), 95.

[5] Ibid.

Pen in Hand

pen in hand
the words press out
anxious for paper
a place to live

the silence sizzles
sentient and longing
standing on tiptoe
to read the news

what I am hearing
what has been forming
in hidden spaces
how I’ve been growing

invisible
the thoughts take on
colors and edges
given a page

Yes, my pen is a tool, an instrument that provides a way to notice what is going on in my life and in the world. Every morning I pick up the notebook set aside for this time in my life and write a summary of what matters to me: what’s been happening, what I am grateful for, what is challenging, what I am learning. And I write at least one prayer that issues from all that, setting it apart with a little symbol I’ve chosen. Then I wait. When I believe that Abba has reminded me of a truth, spoken to my heart in response, I write that down with a symbol for “what I heard him say.” Then, when reading Scripture or another book that is helping me grow spiritually, I often write down those verses or words that have been underlined as important for me.

This has helped me to consistently pay attention to what I am learning, when I have stumbled, and what my Lord is teaching me. I know not everyone finds a pen to be that friendly and helpful—even my husband and son have not been able to get into it. They prefer sharing audibly with someone close to them, or just contemplation done in privacy. What is important is discovering what practice prevents life from just slipping by. We miss out when we do not notice major themes our Counselor is highlighting, or even the smallest fingerprints of God on our lives and our spiritual growth.

He knows all that is going on, inside and out in the world around us, and he cares about it all. Do I pay attention?

You have searched me, LORD, and you know me. 2 You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. 3 You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. 4 Before a word is on my tongue you, LORD, know it completely. 5 You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me. 6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain.  (Ps. 139:1 NIV)

To even gain an inkling of how Yahweh is paying attention to me, I need to return that focus. I journal with my pen, and often the deepest insight comes to me when a poem begins to sing in my heart and I follow through, writing it down. Most days it is just words on paper, a recounting of what has happened, especially any hurts or struggles, any joys or successes, any words of Scripture or a song that are making my heart take a leap.

A  prayer journal that notes requests and answers is another great instrument.

There are other ways to keep track of such things if writing is not your thing. Calhoun suggests making scrapbooks, for yourself or for others.[1] I found a very worn scrapbook handed down through several generations while cleaning up at the heritage cabin in the forest left to me and my siblings by our parents. It was a collection of clippings, poems, verses, sermon notes, and poems. We don’t know who put it together, but it obviously represented what had been meaningful to them over the years.

For some, it is drawing that gives them that outlet, art as a “pen.” That is a gift.

For people who need personal exchanges, finding a prayer partner who also revels in that kind of mutual sharing can be deeply meaningful. The trick is remembering to be open, sharing one’s spiritual learning curve and preoccupations.

Calhoun’s list of “God-given fruit” that comes from this practice is stimulating:

  • keeping company with Jesus through reflection
  • listening to God, praying your life
  • slowing down and noticing where God shows up in the “ordinary”
  • noting God’s faithfulness in your life journey
  • becoming aware of phases and stages of your own pilgrimage[2]

Sometimes journals become a legacy for others. Have you read published journals that inspire? I was actually afraid that someone might read my journals, and for a moment it kept me from being “too open” in what I write. After years of filling small notebooks I began to tell myself that no one would ever have the patience to read them anyway. I still used some personal coding for certain reflections or episodes, but mostly I experienced new freedom in confessing my faults as well as my progress. If anyone ever reads them they will need  to have a deep motivation that doesn’t seem likely at all!

On the other hand, some of what I journal becomes the fruit that the Lord prompts me to share with others, such as the poetry that came from those moments that I published in When He Whispers: Learning to Listen on the Journey. And some of my growth moments get shared when I am asked to speak. Either way, that is God at work, using this daily spiritual discipline for his purposes.

It is possible to reserve journaling for special moments like a spiritual retreat, or to do it weekly or monthly, whatever is appropriate for one’s instincts or time availability. When I had babies, I definitely found it tough to count on much private space! Later I found that I really needed to journal when going through deep waters; it was a way to debrief after evacuation from a war zone, and after going through a season of relational ruptures. I often added notes from key discussions or meetings. All of them are resources for my own contemplation now, a long shelf in my library holding a row of a huge variety of large and small notebooks. (They are very helpful for writing those phases of life in my memoir!)

David Mathis, executive editor at desiringgod.com, summarizes a key goal of journaling this way: “What if journaling wasn’t simply about recording the past, but preparing for the future? And what if, because of God’s grace in our past and his promises for our future, journaling was about deepening your joy in the present?”[3]

He goes on to say, “Journaling is a way of slowing life down for just a few moments, and trying to process at least a sliver of it for the glory of God, our own growth and development, and our enjoyment of the details. Journaling has the appeal of mingling the motions of our lives with the mind of God. Permeated with prayer, and saturated with God’s word, it can be a powerful way of hearing God’s voice in the Scriptures and making known to him our requests. Think of it as a subdiscipline of Bible intake and prayer. Let a spirit of prayer pervade, and let God’s word inspire, shape, and direct what you ponder and pen.”[4]

I love the way he puts it, and I can testify that journaling has done this powerful work for me.

However you implement such practices to attain these spiritual goals, may the Lord use that instrument to bring you joy and a safe space for processing your journey!


[1] Calhoun, Adele Ahlberg. Spiritual Disciplines Handbook: Practices that Transform Us. (Downers Grove, Illinois: IVP Books, 2005), 56.

[2] Ibid.

[3] Mathis, David. Journal as a Pathway to Joy, July 30, 2014.  https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/journal-as-a-pathway-to-joy

[4] Ibid.

A Contemplative Life

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Checking Out My Ways

This I desire: integrity— 
heart and mind
undivided
unfragmented
undistracted
truly focused
deeply centered
all transparent
and devoted—
set apart
for only You.

So take this moment:
give me grace
to know truth
see your hand
understand
what you did
how you worked
what I did
what it meant—
how to live
set apart
for only You.

There is that healthy moment before going to sleep when gratitude is the focus, settling the mind into peace. Then comes morning, the start of a new day, with time set aside for worship and preparation. For me, that includes journaling, praying Scriptures, studying Scriptures, and prayer—mostly intercession. But there is another spiritual discipline that has crept into those sacred rhythms, that I want to develop. It increases one’s recognition of God’s presence and promotes confession, healing, and ongoing growth.

It is called “examen.” That comes from Latin, meaning “examination,” and is still used in French for “test.” Back in the 16th century, Ignatius required his Jesuit companions to practice this form of contemplative prayer at noon and before sleep. Perhaps that Catholic origin has kept it hidden from most of us Protestants, but it is becoming recognized as a powerful tool for developing spiritual awareness and discernment.

My daily schedule would make noon and bedtime difficult moments for this kind of contemplative prayer, at least most of the time. But while reviewing it I realized that my morning “quiet time” is already incorporating it. Journaling takes me back through the previous day and leads me to write short prayers that come out of that review.

I found a very helpful outline of steps for practicing the examen published by Baylor University,[1] and will be using it to structure my personal process in the morning. Perhaps it will be helpful for some of you as well. It is adapted from the online site of Gravity Center—and I recently finished reading Mindful Silence, written by one of the founders of that center and a spiritual director there, Phileena Heuertz.[2] Here are the five classic points:

  1. Acknowledge an awareness of God’s Presence.
  2. Review the day in a posture of gratitude.
  3. Recognize a “Consolation” and a “Desolation” from the day.
  4. Choose a “Desolation” to pray into.
  5. Look with hope for new tomorrow.

Baylor’s site makes an important point: “Often, the Examen awakens the practitioner to the Divine through routine or ordinary moments to illustrate the subtle and surprising ways God speaks. This prayer practice helps cultivate and refine discernment as well as an awareness of God’s presence.”[3]

Some terms in the classic outline need definition.

A “consolation” is something that took place for which you are deeply grateful, especially one that reminded you of God’s presence and love. Did you notice a fruit of the Spirit being lived out in your walk? What part of the day felt the most life-giving?[4]

A “desolation” is something that took place that distressed you, that felt the most life-thwarting. It may even have made you question God’s nearness. It is the moment for which you are the least grateful.[5] Was it that you demonstrated a lack of one of the fruits of the Spirit? It may lead to confession, and determination to practice change in that area.

The goal that inspires me is “keeping company with Jesus throughout the highs and lows of the day.[6] I have already experienced that benefit through the years of journaling those moments and reflecting on what they mean.

This can also be used as a part of a retreat, focusing on what has been happening during the past month, the past six months, or the past year.[7] It provides a sound base for praying regarding guidance for the future as you recognize themes, whether they are about your learning curve, ministry, or even a need to change in some area. What has God been doing? What have you been doing? What patterns are evident?

This practice reminds us that God is near and at work in us, even when things happen that are uncomfortable or painful. They cause us to rely increasingly on his grace. Perhaps that increased reliance on him is actually the best part! I have noticed that I am more aware of my weaknesses, my stumbling. I have seen this as one way that God prompts me to turn from certain attitudes and failures and grow in healthier directions. Using the structure of examen will make the process more rigorous, and help me to be more attentive to God’s prompts toward both change and actions that flow from spiritual fruit.

This reminder in Scripture has been a tremendous reassurance to me on my life journey: You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. (Ps. 139:3 NIV)  He knows all that I do, everywhere I am. This is great comfort, because he loves me. When I contemplate what has been happening, it gives an opening for him to use his insight to prompt me towards more spiritual growth.

As my constant companion, he is the one empowering me to live the way that I should: So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. (Isa. 41:10 NIV)

He wants me to grow! Paul wrote it this way: And this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight, 10 so that you may be able to discern what is best and may be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, (Phil. 1:9 NIV)

May it be so!


[1] Baylor>Spiritual Life>Mindfulness>Examen  https://www.baylor.edu/spirituallife/index.php?id=971624

[2] Heuertz, Phileena. Mindful Silence: The Heart of Christian Contemplation. (IVP Books, InterVarsity Press: Downers Grove, IL: 2018)

[3] Baylor.

[4] Calhoun, Adele Ahlberg. Spiritual Disciplines Handbook: Practices that Transform Us. (Downers Grove, Illinois: IVP Books, 2005), 52-53.

[5] Ibid.

[6] Ibid., 52.

[7] Ibid., 54.

Exhausted

Exhaustion
depresses 
like a brick
on foam
squeezing out air,
leaving me compacted,
heavy, 
flat out dense.

Sleep and love, 
contemplation
are nectar
and nutrients
(eat what fits):
breathe in air,
restoration.

In time
I will stretch
and power up
for life as usual.

Once I get to the beach, or to another quiet spot, I have to quiet my roiling thoughts and pumping adrenaline and give myself permission to just rest. “You don’t have to feel guilty,” I tell myself. “You need this. God told us to rest. Just relax!”

I’ll bet you’ve been there too, so consumed with daily activities, obligations, interactions that you just need to find rest, whether it’s a vacation or just a quiet spot in the house. Our Lord made us and knew that we would need that. It’s one reason why he ordained “sabbath,” one day out of seven to change the rhythm to a quieter pace. We do need to be free from ordinary distractions and turn our hearts to worship. But we also need to let go of the pressures that drive us, if we can. There are times when that is not possible—urgent needs, illness, calamity. But rest is precious.

The problem with our understanding of “sabbath” is that it has become either legalistic or meaningless. When I was growing up, many of our family’s friends held tightly to regulations that they felt would maintain a restful day: no swimming, no sports, no outings. It made Sunday feel like a long drawn-out day that had to be spent at church and at home. I personally love a day with time at home—it restores energy to the introvert side of me. But I also love it when that day includes a hike by a river or in the woods, or (yes!) swimming in a warm pool. All of those things open up room for contemplation or relaxation, another kind of rest than sitting in a chair.

When involved in full-time ministry, Sunday may not be a restful day. We experienced that as missionaries: the long trip on rugged roads to the village church, time greeting everyone, home to grab a meal and rest (when there was not a longer celebration programmed at church, like a baptism, or evangelistic event). And then there was the two-hour meeting in our back yard with the Nyarafolo group for singing, prayer and Nyarafolo devotions together. We loved it all. But by the time supper was over, bedtime sounded so inviting! And then there were often visitors at the door . . .

 Many pastors and lay workers here in America meet the same challenge. That’s why Monday often becomes their day off. The trick is then to spend it in such a way that it brings restoration. And rest. Whatever that means for each person and personality type.

What is essential is to listen to the Lord’s promptings to make space for rest, not to be addicted to the compulsions of productivity. Then we have to let go of the “tyranny of the urgent. God’s sabbath reality calls us to trust that the Creator can manage all that concerns us in this world as we settle into his rest.”[1]

When Sunday is a day for you to invest your gifts and calling, not one for personal rest, find a way to compensate. Even the gift of an evening quietly spent with your spouse or children, or a close friend, can bring that restoration. So can a quiet retreat. That was, for me back in Ferkessédougou, the three-hour protected space in the “sacred grove” in my yard, where I could just breathe and work on listening to my Lord while enjoying nature. Here in Detroit I am learning how to find those spaces in certain early mornings in my third-floor “skyhouse,” in the quiet of pre-dawn birdsong and reflection.

Vacations and retreats count too, if they include rest—not just a long list of activities. We need time to breathe, both physically and spiritually. Play can contribute to that, helping us to focus on other people and let go of the to-do list. Most of all, each of us needs to recognize what distracts us from resting, and what refreshes us. That way we are strengthened to keep on going, to keep on doing what the Lord has put in front of us.

I used to wonder how on earth my dad ever found rest. Often he was the only doctor, only surgeon, at the mission hospital in Ferkessédougou. Being on call meant he could not always plan his time. What I saw him do—and other missionaries as well—was to treasure the moments when not at work by paying attention to what he loved: birds, tropical plants, and art. He collected them all, with an aviary for birds and a series of gardens (one shaped like a map of Africa) for his plants. Art was collected whenever we were on a trip to another country or a big city in the south. While on one vacation when I was young, he invited along his favorite painter, Samuel Dekesse, formerly from Congo. They spent hours together painting scenes on pieces of canvas while Dad imitated Samuel’s brush strokes in his “feather painting.”

We tried to have game nights with friends as well. An evening spent laughing together, joking, made a huge difference as we no longer concentrated on tragedies or challenges all around. That is something we still do in retirement, inviting family or friends over to play some favorite games.

 Practicing “rest” is not about being lazy or apathetic. It is about being active in whatever way is possible given one’s time of life, physical condition and work, but learning to devote time to rest that promotes healing. A sabbath rest includes time set aside for worship, a focus on God:

“‘Six days work may be done, but on the seventh day there must be a Sabbath of complete rest,2 a holy assembly. You must not do any work; it is a Sabbath to the LORD in all the places where you live. (Lev. 23:3 NET)

Rest from pressure to always perform well or from anxiety about the future also comes in quietness, time apart:

Truly my soul finds rest in God; my salvation comes from him. (Ps. 62:1 NIV)

Yes, my soul, find rest in God; my hope comes from him. (Ps. 62:5 NIV)

And when we are linked to Jesus, “pulling the plow” with him, his gentleness will also provide our souls with rest:

Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  (Matt. 11:29 NIV)

And our Shepherd even inserts rest into our long journeys:

2 He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters (Ps. 23:1 NIV)

The daily schedule of work is good. But our Lord knows that we need rest for heart and soul, and body as well. That is why he made the earth turn, so that night would come and cut the rhythm of daytime activities. He gave sabbath for rest that would concentrate on relationship with him, which is of the most importance. Then, throughout the other days of the week, it is profitable to find a way to carve out time for being open to what the Lord wants to say to us. Either way, rest provides space for certain kinds of spiritual formation as well as for the restoration we need.

Physically, we also need rest in order to stay well and have that ongoing productivity that matters so much to us.  Health for our bodies, health for our souls—rest contributes to both. As John said to Gaius:

Dear friend, I pray that you may enjoy good health and that all may go well with you, even as your soul is getting along well. (3 Jn. 1:2 NIV)

Let me close by sharing a list I wrote to remind myself to rest in a way that opens me up to things beyond the normal :

Relax     Exhale    Silent   Thinking

Remove   Every   Stormy   Tension

Review   Each   Stretching   Test

Remember   Eternal   Significant   Truths


[1] Calhoun, Adele Ahlberg. Spiritual Disciplines Handbook: Practices that Transform Us. (Downers Grove, Illinois: IVP Books, 2005),  42.

Helping Hands

Barbara Slater, my mother

Her fingers crook now at the joint,
swollen and unwell.
But even though they ache and chafe
they still cannot be still,
a tender testimony to
a history of easing life 
for others in her world.

They tap upon a tabletop,
thinking audibly,
type heartbeats into keyboard words
to pleat divisive miles 
and hold her daughter close.
They multiply the loaves of bread
to feed whoever comes.

(What I do, he said,
you will do too).

Because, to this dear mother/friend,
to love connotes to touch:
to stretch across a wall to reach
those different hands,
dark-skinned and suffering much;
to change a diaper, clean a wound,
or wipe away the tears.

(Or even scrub a floor:
the act is more.)

My fingers’ gifts are not the same;
I fumble, yet I know
her loving has rubbed off on me.
The years of mirroring
her moves left habits in my hands.
And so her fingers keep right on,
still fruitful in old age.

But now, they’re exponential
in beneficent effect
passed on to all her children—
their great inheritance.

We just celebrated Mother’s Day, which always brings back memories of those no longer with us. My mom, Barbara Slater, went to her eternal home five years ago, and I was not able to be with her during her final days (I was in Africa, and by the time I heard her last days had arrived she would not have known I was with her). But she lives in on my heart, and thinking about her life brought to mind the poem I had written about her hands back in 2002, when she was retired but still active. One of the gifts she had was compassion, which really showed up in her acts of service. She was a nurse who not only practiced her medical skills but taught them to others. When I was a teenager she invited me down to the mission hospital to learn how to care for the newborn babies, but also showed me how to sort through the “white cross” packages filled with handmade goods sent over to the hospital by various women’s groups, and count pills to put into small bottles.  And at home she taught me how to serve the family and guests by helping her in the kitchen and taking care of my baby siblings. Her hands seemed to constantly find tasks to do, whether it was in medical work or accounting for the hospital, writing letters, or teaching us kids.

It is not always recognized that “service” can also be a practice to apply in spiritual formation. Not all work fits that category, but consciously applying oneself to service as an antidote to seeking public admiration or to counteract tendencies to laziness, apathy or selfishness can make it truly effective.[1]

That is what I had seen in Mom. She was not looking for applause or status. She was paying attention to needs around her and responding as she could, all because of her calling to serve Jesus.

This reminds me of an unexpected moment of spiritual formation that the Lord inserted into my program. I needed to find a way to minister in a church to fulfill an internship requirement for a seminary course. Being a woman, I knew my options would be limited, but asked if I could serve in some way for my home church’s preparation of short-term missions teams. I was, after all, a missionary with over 20 years of experience already. To my surprise, the task I was given was to provide the food for the luncheon at an all-day training session! That was not the kind of experience I had expected, and not an area that fits my skill set. But doing it definitely checked my expectations of being in a front-seat role, and put me in a position of humbly absorbing what I could by watching and listening even while serving behind the scenes. It bred humility. And that is what service does when it is a spiritual discipline.

So we should be asking ourselves: What is motivating my response to involvement in an act of service, a desire to be helpful or a need for recognition? What activities only add busyness to my schedule, versus the ones that my Lord is putting before me as a way to serve? What will sand away my preoccupation with my standing and help me to become increasingly humble?

Let’s look at what the Word says about it:

Jesus called them together and said, “You know that those who are regarded as rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their high officials exercise authority over them. Not so with you. Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, 44 and whoever wants to be first must be slave of all. 45 For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” (Mk. 10:4-45 NIV)

You, my brothers and sisters, were called to be free. But do not use your freedom to indulge the flesh; rather, serve one another humbly in love. (Gal. 5:13 NIV)

Slaves, obey your earthly masters with respect and fear, and with sincerity of heart, just as you would obey Christ. 6 Obey them not only to win their favor when their eye is on you, but as slaves of Christ, doing the will of God from your heart. 7 Serve wholeheartedly, as if you were serving the Lord, not people, 8 because you know that the Lord will reward each one for whatever good they do, whether they are slave or free. (Eph. 6:5-8 NIV)

We may not be “slaves” but most of us do have a boss, someone in authority over us. Learning to do the work assigned to us wholeheartedly, as if our beloved Master were the one right there overseeing us (which he is, actually!), changes our motivation. This is especially life-changing when we are having a difficult relationship with that earthly boss. The pressure to please them is released when instead we focus on pleasing our King.

Jesus showed us how to serve with humility when he washed his disciples’ feet. That was something a person either did for themselves when entering a house, or a servant (or the wife) would wash them, someone of lower social status. It was not what the teacher or a famous person would do. But he insisted on taking that role. Then he explained the main lesson:

12 When Jesus had washed their feet and put on His robe, He reclined  again and said to them, “Do you know what I have done for you? 13 You call Me Teacher and Lord. This is well said, for I am. 14 So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. 15 For I have given you an example  that you also should do just as I have done for you. 16 ” I assure you: A slave is not greater than his master,and a messenger is not greater than the one who sent him. 17 If you know these things, you are blessed if you do them. (Jn. 13:12-17 CSB)

Life for most of us is already full to the brim with work and other obligations. But if we take time to notice a need that we can actually meet by pitching in to serve, it can make a huge difference to those around us. In the Spiritual Disciplines Handbook, Adele Calhoun suggests making it a practice to ask someone in our life daily, for two weeks, “What can I do to help you?”[2] This would be a way of learning to pay attention to opportunities to serve. And noticing them is what would make humble service become a part of our character. It would become more automatic to do what seem like mundane tasks but that contribute to the good of family, colleagues, neighbors or even a stranger. They might not be so mundane, either—think of the service the “Good Samaritan” gave to the wounded man he happened to see!

For those of us not naturally attuned to what is happening around us, this is transformative. For some, it may even be their spiritual gift (1 Corinthians 12:406). Each of us can concentrate on doing what is helpful to those around us, whether it is a physical need or helping to set up an event, helping with dishes or changing a diaper. As Richard Foster points out, any service that is done for the good of another, not for self aggrandizement of any kind, takes us out of the spotlight and teaches us humility. When I am with someone who takes over a conversation completely, do I assert my right to speak, or listen? Often this involves learning to “bear the sorrows” of another, even their loneliness. The most important requirements are compassion and patience.” The service of listening also teaches us to be more sensitive to promptings that come from the Spirit, more aware of what our Lord is saying to us. This promotes service that matters to him.[3]

Perhaps your occupation is already one of serving others, just like nursing was for my mother. Changing the heart attitude to the tasks can transform them into “the ministry of the towel,” as Foster puts it, serving the way Jesus demonstrated when he got out of his official seat, took off his outer clothing and bent down to wash the feet of his students.[4]

Let’s “serve one another humbly in love”! (Gal. 5:13)


[1] Willard, Dallas. The Spirit of the Disciplines: Understanding How God Changes Lives. (HarperSanFrancisco:1988), 182.

[2] Calhoun, Adele Ahlberg. Spiritual Disciplines Handbook: Practices that Transform Us. (Downers Grove, Illinois: IVP Books, 2005),  146.

[3] Foster, Richard J. Celebration of Discipline. (New York, NY: Harper & Row, 1978), 120, 121.

[4] Ibid., 122.

Practicing His Presence

Written over twenty years ago, this poem was a commitment I was making to learn to really “practice the presence” of God. Whether a day was filled with routines or with unexpected delights or sorrow, walking in constant awareness of him is life-changing. It is ongoing, the deep desire of my heart, yet so often interrupted by the pressures of work, distractions of interactions, forgetfulness. It is a practice that takes commitment—not just a set of rituals, but a constant background rhythm that becomes as normal as breathing. There are moments when the percussion picks up speed or volume or becomes like the crash of a cymbal; then attention links the daily to the eternal. As C.S. Lewis said, ‘For the Present is the point at which time touches eternity.’

But those are not indications that “God just showed up.” He is always there. Always here. Always everywhere, and he is paying attention to his dear ones. We just forget that reality.

Ever since a prayer partner pointed out to me the depth of that truth in Psalm 139, back when I was at Wheaton Graduate School (1977), I have clung to it:

You have searched me, LORD, and you know me.
2 You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar.
3 You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways.
4 Before a word is on my tongue you, LORD, know it completely.
5 You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me.
6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain.
7 Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence?
8 If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
9 If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea,
10 even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.  (Ps. 139:1-10 NIV)

I did leave the United States and “settle on the far side of the sea.” Missions often requires that. This has been my comfort: that Yahweh not only knows me, he knows every second of every day and every single thought or word or action I take. Of course if I make bad choices and choose not to follow his orders that puts me in a bad position: I can hide nothing from him. But since I have made the decision to be all his, always, it also draws me back to him in confession and yearning for ongoing intimacy. What a radical change that makes!

A number of books have been mentors on this journey—there are lots out there, since this is so crucial to spiritual formation. Brother Lawrence wrote the first one that is always pointed out, describing how implementing this practice into daily life, beyond just the fixed times of prayer in the monastery, transformed life for him. Even doing the dishes was no longer only a menial task. That is underlined in a book I mentioned last week, Every Moment Holy, by Douglas Kaine McKelvey. For me, his “liturgies” are examples of ways to interact with God in every moment. It is not that we are constantly repeating rote words or even maintaining the conversation incessantly. That kind of multi-tasking is beyond me! But it is a reminder to pay attention to the Lord’s presence and live every moment for him and with him.

There is a beloved person in my life who is no longer walking with the Lord. Conversation about spiritual things meets a steep wall. But when we spend time together, I have been learning to remember that God is present there, since he is always with me,  and to occasionally ask for guidance in the conversation or even just silently pray for that person to become aware of his love and goodness.

On the way to church, I am learning to ask Abba to remind me to worship “in spirit and in truth,” to not let the moments just pass by. When picking up the phone to talk to a friend, I am practicing that awareness of my Counselor’s presence, giving the conversation to him. I have not yet learned to remember his presence while doing dishes or sorting the laundry—but reviewing the principles recommended for this practice has been alerting me to new opportunities!

Tom Schwanda shares this: “I find it valuable to ask: What helps me pay attention to God? What hinders me from paying attention to God?”[1] The whole purpose of practicing his presence is to strengthen your union with God/Christ/the Spirit, to develop increased awareness of him as we become more intimately connected to him. It keeps us more open to his working in and through us. If we can sweep away whatever obstacles are blocking us from that awareness, and practice whatever helps maintain it, it promotes growth. I also find that it incorporates many of the other spiritual formation practices that I want in place: various forms of prayer, time in the Word, service, compassion, gratitude etc. It cultivates alertness to the Spirit’s promptings that can open up unexpected opportunities to reach out to people, too.

So how should one approach implementing this practice? Here are suggestions from Calhoun, who reminds us that it “is simply a way to love him and stay connected to him throughout the day”:

  • intentionally recollect yourself before God as you engage in the activities and duties of life
  • seek to see others through the eyes of God
  • stop throughout the day to listen to God
  • carry or place symbols in your workplace and home that remind you of Christ’s presence[2]

Ken Boa has written a book and accompanying guide for the practice, both of them worth digging into. Here are a few of the cues included in his online blog about it:

  • Pick one ordinary task that you do with regularity, and each time you go to do it this week, seek to do it to the honor of God, thanking Him as you go.
  • Be on alert for an opportunity to share something from the Word of God with someone
  • start the day by praying a passage of Scripture that puts your heart in readiness for walking with the Lord consciously through the day[3]

My own awareness of God’s presence has increased my reliance on him as well as my enjoyment of him. I so grateful that he is able to pay that same attention to every single one of his people! Here are some Bible verses suggested by Boa that may increase our understanding of how this practice is based on Scriptural principles, and encourage us to continue “making every effort”:

Abide (John 15:4–5)
Love God and neighbor (Matthew 22:37–40)
Set your mind (Romans 8:5–6)
Walk by/keep in step with the Spirit (Galatians 5:16, 25)
Set your heart (Colossians 3:1–2)
Rejoice always (1 Thessalonians 5:16)
Pray continually (1 Thessalonians 5:17)
Give thanks in all circumstances (1 Thessalonians 5:18)
Run with endurance/perseverance (Hebrews 12:1–2)
Submit/offer yourself up (Romans 12:1–2)
Press on (Philippians 3:12–14)
Dwell on (Philippians 4:6–8)
Remember God’s faithfulness and provision (Deuteronomy 8:2–3)[4]

So when I feel him looking over my shoulder as I write or as I research the difficult Hebrew in some verse in Isaiah that we are translating, or when I know he is watching over me when I face an emotional challenge, it is all a part of my spiritual formation to becoming increasingly “one” with him. It is learning to know him in ways I’ve missed before. And just as that happens in a true love relationship between humans who spend lots of time together, it will happen for each of us who pay attention to this precious relationship with the One who loves us far more than anyone else can.


[1] Tom Schwanda,     https://www.cslewisinstitute.org/resources/cultivating-attentiveness-to-gods-presence/.

[2] Calhoun, Adele Ahlberg. Spiritual Disciplines Handbook: Practices that Transform Us. (Downers Grove, Illinois: IVP Books), 59.

[3] Boa, Ken. https://kenboa.org/living-out-your-faith/the-eight-spiritual-essentials-part-4-practice-gods-presence/

[4] Ibid.