Elizabeth’s

My low-pressure approach to cultivating intimacy with God

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I recently shared some of this material at a ladies’ brunch. It is my hope and prayer that it might help you in your walk with God. ~Elizabeth

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This is a story about getting away with Jesus and how it transformed my life. It’s a story of hearing God whisper, “Come away with me,” and it’s the story of how I said yes – not perfectly, but repeatedly. It’s a story that might seem really elementary to some of you, and you’ve been living this for years. But for me it was groundbreaking, and it happened here in Cambodia.

Our international church was a watering hole for me right from the beginning of my time in Cambodia. It was a spiritual oasis, a weekly time to refresh and renew and meet with God. I remember walking into the church’s auditorium four years ago, feeling something inside me take a deep breath, and just knowing I was home. I met God that first Sunday, and every Sunday after.

But about a year and a half ago I felt God drawing me into deeper communion with Him. I felt Him calling me to a more daily commitment to meet together. Before then, I’d never learned to be consistent in my time with God. I had tried, but my attempts never lasted more than 3 to 6 months at a time. And they were never in the morning. (And I’d kind of always felt guilty about that, actually.)

But I was suddenly finding that Sunday mornings were not enough for me. They weren’t enough to get me through my week. My cup was empty. My well was dry. I didn’t have the strength I needed to thrive. Maybe in my passport country I could have survived like that, going from Sunday to Sunday, with maybe a Wednesday Bible study thrown in. But in Cambodia, I couldn’t live like that anymore. Life in this country was taking more out of me, and that meant that in turn, I needed to take more from God.

I knew, deep down in my spirit that this was what God was calling me to. I knew I needed this, and I knew I wanted it. But I have NEVER, EVER been a morning person. Left to my own devices, I would prefer to sleep.

So I had to start with really small steps. And I do mean really small: 10 minutes. I woke up 10 minutes early. In the beginning all I did was read a daily selection of prayer and scripture from a prayer book. I got a notebook, and I started writing out my own prayers and recording the Bible verses that really stood out to me.

I knew I wanted this to be a long-term commitment, so there were several things I decided not to feel guilty about:

  • I didn’t let myself feel guilty if I skipped a day because I was too tired to get out of bed. I just woke up the next day and started over again.
  • I didn’t let myself feel guilty if I couldn’t keep up with some prescribed Bible reading plan. I didn’t try to catch up when I missed. I just slowly worked through whatever section of Scripture I was in.
  • I didn’t let myself feel guilty if I got sidetracked with other Scriptures or devotional books and deviated from “the plan.” 
  • And I didn’t let myself feel guilty about my short times. I just slowly increased my morning time, usually by 10 minutes at a time.

Each individual meeting with God doesn’t always feel very fruitful. But the seconds add up to minutes, and the minutes add up to hours, and every moment with God means something. When I look back over the last year and a half, I see that these times with God have been the source of some of my greatest spiritual breakthroughs. And that’s not to say I didn’t experience God before coming to Cambodia, because I did. I really, really did.

But here is where I discovered that God’s love for me is much deeper than I ever knew before. Here is where I discovered He loves me as much as He loves everyone else, and I didn’t use to be sure of that. Here is where I learned who I am in Christ in ways I’d never known before. And I’ve had various seasons where God says, “Ok, we’re going to work on this particular sin now, or this particular lie.”

I know I can get really excited when I talk about intimacy with God. But I also want to be very careful how I talk about it because

  • The last thing I want to do is heap more guilt and shame on you or give you something more to DO.
  • I don’t want to give the impression I think I somehow “earned” God’s intervention in my life by deciding to spend more time with God. I didn’t earn His gifts of healing and freedom; everything is a gift and comes from Him alone.
  • I don’t want to give the impression a morning quiet time will solve all your problems. I still walk through difficult times. I still sin — and that still discourages me. I still sometimes skip my morning devotional time. And I still sometimes have a hard time connecting with God.
  • I also know some of you may be walking through a desert right now, or a fiery trial, and thriving may seem far from possible. So I want to be really sensitive to your pain and your weariness.

When we talk about needing to steal away and spend time with God, it can sound legalistic, like this is what you have to do to measure up. But that’s NEVER, ever my intention. All I want is for people to get away and be with God. All I want is to see people healed and set free. Our time with God is NOT where we prove what great followers we are, it’s where the healing happens.

And we will still have trials. Our relationship with God can’t inoculate us against difficulty. And we will still have times in the desert, seasons of winter when we can’t see the fruit or feel His presence.

If that’s you today, if you’re in a difficult or dry season, I want to encourage you not to give up hope. Seasons don’t last forever. Hold out for another season. In the big picture, over the whole course of our lives, if we are drawing near to God and He is drawing near to us, we can thrive even in a dry and weary land where there is no water.

And that is the truth about my story: I’m no longer barely surviving in Cambodia. Cambodia is actually the place I learned how to thrive in my walk with God. Cambodia is where I learned how to abide with Him and to commune with Him. I found God here, and I’m not the same person I was before. In fact, God isn’t the same God I thought I knew. He’s so much bigger and better than I ever thought.

And I’m thankful for that, thankful that I was so needy that it drove me to get more of God. What I was on my own wasn’t enough to handle life here. What was inside me wasn’t enough to live life here. I didn’t have the reserves or the strength the way I might have had in my own country.

I still hear God on Sunday mornings — I’m so thankful for Sunday mornings!! Now though, I hear God throughout the week too. (And since I’m a human and kind of dense and hard-headed, it helps the lessons sink in better if I hear them on Sunday and during the rest of the week.)

So if you are like me and you’re only haphazardly meeting with God, perhaps only on Sunday mornings, and if you’re ready to go deeper into God and into His love, I want to gently suggest that maybe it’s time to make more space for Him in your life, maybe it’s time to invite Him into your busy, stressed-out schedule and into your worried, overwhelmed heart.

I promise you that if you get away with Jesus, it’s going to change your life. Because the time we spend with God is what helps us thrive – whether you’re in Cambodia like me, or somewhere else. Only God’s love is enough to fill our hearts for our days, for our marriages, for our friendships, for our work, for our children, for our ministry. When we’re connected to God, we can be like the trees in Jeremiah 17:7-8, the ones planted by streams of water, flourishing and bearing fruit, even in the dry, desert places.

 

God, you are the only one who can make us flourish in the desert. You are the only one who gives life to our lifeless souls. God, plant us in you, that we may know you, that we may know your heart. Give us your life abundant, and help us thrive in whatever land we find ourselves. And we acknowledge that when you do this, when you make us thrive, it is NOT our doing, it is YOUR doing, and the glory goes to you alone. Thank you for being enough for us, Amen.

The Best Parenting Move Ever

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I told this story on my Facebook page several weeks ago but wanted to share it with my blog readers too. ~Elizabeth

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My kindergarten teacher told my mom that I would probably be an average student and what’s more, that when we began receiving letter grades, I’d probably make C’s. (This is the teacher who, when she thought we kindergarteners had been Quite Loud Enough Already, forced us to sit silently at our tables and copy the numbers from 1 to 100 on a chart.)

But in what amounts to probably the Best Parenting Move ever, my mom did not pass that information along to her daughter, no she did not. She expressed no disappointment in me. And she expressed no low — or high — expectations of me. She simply said to herself, “Whoever this firstborn daughter of mine turns out to be, that’s fine with me.” Which meant I could continue to enjoy school without feeling any pressure whatsoever.

For the next couple years I was a slow worker. I liked school, but I struggled with the pace of the workload. I remember being sent home with piles and piles of papers that I hadn’t been quick enough to complete at school, so I had to complete them at home. (These were very boring color-cut-paste-panels-in-order activities.)

Then one summer everything changed: I discovered reading (perhaps through the Laura Ingalls Wilder books?). When I returned to school that fall, I excelled. Mom didn’t expect that but was happy to witness the transformation from slow learner to avid reader and dedicated student.

And though I’m not passing this gift on to my children quite as perfectly as it was passed on to me, I still look to my mom’s example of pressure-less parenting, and I’m thankful that she patiently waited for me to bloom academically. . . or not.

Let’s Talk About Broken Things

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by Elizabeth

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To quote the acclaimed African author Chinua Achebe: Things Fall Apart here.

Last month it was our internet. It was out for four days. The company finally answered our request for help and came and fixed the line outside our house. A few days later the internet stopped again, this time a broken modem — our second in this country. We bought a third.

Our electric piano broke shortly after returning from America. So did our DVD player. The piano isn’t fixed yet, but after a few weeks we found a DVD player that was relatively cheap. The label on the back says it plays all regions, same as our old one. It doesn’t. We can no longer play several beloved movies from America.

The drains are constantly overflowing. The toaster stopped working two years in, and we just never replaced it.

I’m on my fourth blender here. I had the same blender in America for 12 years. I used it for crushing ice and making frozen fruit smoothies, and it never broke. I’ve only ever used my Cambodian blenders to make hummus, but I don’t even dare to do that very much anymore. My current blender starts overheating after about 15 seconds of use.

Our fans routinely break, and currently one of the bathroom sinks is leaking. Badly. The kitchen sink was leaking badly too, but it took priority.

Last hot season the air conditioner in our bedroom broke. We had it “fixed” several times but still had to camp out in the guest bedroom most of the season.

The fluorescent light bulbs burn out, but it’s not just the light bulb that needs replacing: often it’s the entire fixture.

My laptop is on its third battery since we moved to a 230 voltage area. Third charger too. And it’s currently at the shop because it stopped charging last week. Again. The electricity here burns out appliances I guess.

I tried using our old computer to do emails, but it took 15 minutes to boot up and maybe kinda sorta shut down each time I tried to open an internet browser. Leading to another 15 minutes to reboot. . . a couple more times. I finally got that sorted out enough to open my blogging platform, as you now see.

Then today, the refrigerator/freezer went and broke on us. When we realized this — and only one day after I restocked the fridge with fresh dairy products — I leaned my head against the fridge and sighed.

Something is always broken here — usually, many things at once. And I haven’t even started in on all our van and moto problems. Like the hot season the van’s air conditioning broke. Or the rainy season we drove through standing water to get to church, but by the next week the brake rotors had rusted closed, paralyzing our poor van.

Or the radiator that leaked for over three years without a single mechanic being able to isolate the problem. Or the moto that still dies immediately after being started if it’s been, say, an hour since we last started it.

I don’t usually talk about this stuff, and I don’t say this to complain either, although it might be interpreted that way. I say this to explain why we’re sometimes so tired and why it sometimes takes us so long to fix one simple thing.

Each of these things takes time and energy in another language, culture, and infrastructure. The daily rhythm of ministry abroad is already tiring enough. Adding even one more thing to the mix is sometimes enough to topple us.

So things don’t get fixed right away. Sometimes that’s because we wait, and sometimes that’s because we have to wait on others. We’ve had a glut of broken things lately, and to be honest I’m kind of tired of it.

So here’s to the cooler that can hold our dairy products till tomorrow. Here’s to the electrician who might come fix the fridge tomorrow. Here’s to the knob in the bathroom that shuts off all the water till we can fix that faucet. And here’s to the momma who just might regain her sense of humor with Mad Libs and a movie night with her kids.

A Few of My Favorite Things {March 2016}

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The good stuff from this month: online, in print, and in real life. ~Elizabeth

Easter morning was incredible, probably the best Easter service I’ve ever attended. The best part for me was the way we sang Kari Jobe’s song “Forever,” which is already one of my favorite worship songs. First some church members acted out the last supper. Then they spent a good bit of time on the burial and the disciples’ grief and mourning, which we sometimes rush through. (And the actors were non-white, which to me felt more authentic.) Then a woman performed sign language as we sang the first half of “Forever.” Halfway through the song we stopped singing, and the actors portrayed the John 20 scene between Jesus and Mary. I’ve always loved that part of the story, but to see it in person was an experience like no other. Then as soon as Mary and Jesus embraced, we rolled right back into the triumphant part of the song. It was amazing, and I can’t stop thinking about it.

The rest of March was a whirlwind of a month. I finished up a big writing and ministry push (including speaking at a ladies’ event), and I’m looking forward to relaxing a bit more in April, including going on a team retreat with our Team Expansion team. I’m going to completely unplug from technology during that time and am really looking forward to both the unplugging and the team and family bonding time.

Two weeks of unbearable heat (meaning even the water coming out of the faucets is hot) were sandwiched in between two weeks of relative cool. But whether it’s unbearably hot or relatively cool, I’m still drinking coffee, and I’ve discovered that coffee really is better in your favorite mug: and my favorite mug is a plain white one.

I’ve also discovered that a coffee break is even better with a book than with social media: and my current favorite is Stephen Hawking’s The Illustrated Brief History of Time (a Christmas gift from last year). I can make it through only a couple pages at a time before my brain is exhausted, the coffee cup is drained, and it’s back to home school.

703779_1035984719770761_6380675332984077553_oI was bummed to miss a partial solar eclipse this month, but our teammates captured an amazing picture of it. To console myself over the loss, I took note of the next time we’ll be able to see a partial solar eclipse in Cambodia (3 years from now).

I had to take a few solo tuk tuk rides across the city for various events. I hadn’t done that in a while, and I took advantage of that time to listen to worship music on my iPod. It was so calming and centering that I think I must have needed those hours to just listen and breathe.

We attended a workshop that explained a spiritual gifts inventory/DISC personality profile that we had previously taken. The workshop helped me understand myself and my husband better, highlighted a spiritual gift I never knew I had, and also offered guidance for how to approach people with different motivations and personalities than myself. (That last part I found extremely helpful!)

I’m absolutely elated that my husband is giving me the gift of one afternoon per week to get out of the house and write! It was his idea and such a surprise, and I’m getting so much more accomplished with these afternoons.

I’ve been drinking Twinings Pure Peppermint Herbal Infusion in the afternoons and evenings, steeping two bags at a time for extra minty power. (Those of you who’ve known me any amount of time know I love mint.)

I’m also loving Spin Pins from Goody, which keep my hair in a loose but secure bun that doesn’t induce headaches or put pressure on my scalp. I know that seems random and superficial, but as a headache-prone person in this kind of heat, the Spin Pins sure are quick, convenient, and comfortable.

And now on to some more useful favorites!

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BOOKS

Jane of Lantern Hill by Lucy Maud Montgomery. I relate to Jane so much. She doesn’t fit in, and she’s searching for Home. (I wrote a little about my experience with this book in this post.) What I love about this book is how Montgomery has such a firm grasp on human nature, yet she tells this story through the eyes of a child. And the descriptive language is breathtaking. You’ll find some of my favorite quotes at the end of this post.

A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle. This was another childhood favorite of mine, and I relate to Meg so much. Just like Jane, Meg doesn’t fit in and is searching for belonging. (I also relate to Meg’s quirky love for math.) I was going to keep this gem all to myself for a little re-read until my older kids spied my copy of it and begged me to read it aloud to them. I relented, and was ever so glad. We read it in three days; we simply couldn’t put it down. A few of my favorite quotes are at the end of this post.

Prince Caspian by C.S. Lewis. Lewis’s own statement that “A children’s story that can only be enjoyed by children is not a good children’s story in the slightest” has been my guide as I re-read Jane of Lantern Hill by myself, as I read A Wrinkle in Time with my kids, and of course as we continue to read through the Chronicles of Narnia together. I continue to be amazed by Lewis’s wisdom and imagination, and I’m in a bit of a hurry to get to The Silver Chair, as it’s my favorite. But alas we’re going through The Voyage of the Dawn Treader first, as we probably should. Again, a few of my favorite Narnia quotes are at the end.

Luke: The Gospel of Amazement by Michael Card. I returned to Card’s book this month. The introductory chapters especially give a beautiful, broad sweep of the book of Luke. I could read them over and over again, they’re that good (but unfortunately are too long to quote here).

A Circle of Quiet by Madeleine L’Engle. I’m still reading L’Engle’s non-fiction on writing, words, life, and God. Sometimes she gets so dense I can’t follow her, but she’s always thought-provoking. I sometimes read little sections at night before bed. A few of my favorite quotes are listed at the end of this post.

Wondrous Encounters by Richard Rohr. I finished working through Rohr’s Lent devotional, but I have to confess that he, too, sometimes borders on the erudite. Sometimes I get him; sometimes I don’t. You’ll find some of his better, more straight-forward quotes at the end of this post.

And lastly, sometimes before bed I leaf through The 50 Most Extreme Places in the Solar System, a book I found two years ago for pretty cheap but had never really looked at it. (So if you want to explore that book, might I suggest a public library?) I appreciate the planetary science in this book, and I finally understand some questions about earth’s mantle that have been bugging me for years.

(A note about the number of books I’m reading right now, as I realize it seems like a lot: At the beginning of this year I committed to read more in print, both with my children and by myself. The Read Aloud Revival podcast had inspired me, and I want to keep enjoying read-aloud times with my kids even as they get older. I also knew I wanted to read less on a screen. This month’s book list evidences implementation of said resolution. But I should also add that with a number of these books — especially the ones I read on my own — I only read a page or two at a time!)

 

BLOG POSTS

You Just Never Know When a Coconut Might Kill You by Amy Medina. A fellow irrational fear-ist! Plus she’s funny.

The Metaphor in the Front Yard by Sarah Bessey. I’m so glad Sarah put this on her blog! I had read it in her January newsletter, but until now there was no way to share it publicly. Do NOT miss this amazing piece of writing.

Out of the Pit and Back Again by Jennifer May. A meditation on Psalm 40, especially for people in ministry and missions. Absolutely thick with insight. Jennifer is also a TCK/MK.

Parenting and the Power of Place by Marilyn Gardner. As a TCK, I can tend to focus only on heaven and life with Christ as my true home. I sometimes forget about the value of physical places — but of course my own memories of Home are always about physical places and physical people. So I was thankful for this reminder!

Hear Me Roar — But Don’t See Me Cry by Bronwyn Lea. She tells the truth about how I naturally deal with my emotions too, by covering over pain with anger. And I have to continually stretch myself in order to deal with the real, underlying issues instead of the icing of anger and irritation.

Good News on a Good Friday by Robynn Bliss. Read this winsome re-telling of the Gospel story.

Standing Up Crooked Together by Craig Thompson. A gracious offer of community and comradeship (I love the word comrade, don’t you?), and a beautiful picture of how the Church is supposed to function.

When You’re Craving Validation Today, Read This by Lisa-Jo Baker. I’ve never read anything by Lisa-Jo Baker before, but I think you’ll have to agree this is beautiful.

I found the next several posts through the hosting The Grove at Velvet Ashes. The theme was “Yoke,” and the link-ups simply overwhelmed me with goodness:

Master of this Yoke by Michele Womble. More great poetry from a lady whose words never fail me in their denseness and richness.

Seeking the Easy Yoke at Jodie’s Journal. This post quotes large sections from Paul W. Chappell’s book, The Burden Bearer. I don’t know the book, but Chappell’s quotes are not to be missed!

Traveling Light Through Life by Dorette Skinner. Astute correlations between life with God and the art of international travel.

Three Secrets of Soul Rest by Leslie Verner. The first point about where our burdens really come from might surprise you — but it’s been my experience nonetheless.

 

MUSIC

This is How Love Wins by Steven Curtis Chapman. This song was part of our Easter service. The video is kind of hard to watch, but don’t miss the chorus:

“This is how Love wins, every single time
Climbing high upon a tree where someone else should die
This is how Love heals, the deepest part of you
Letting Himself bleed into the middle of your wounds
This is what Love says, standing at the door
You don’t have to be who you’ve been before
Silenced by His voice, death can’t speak again
This is how Love wins”

No Longer Slaves by Jonathan and Melissa Helser. I love this song so much. So much. (In fact I wrote all about it here.) The truth about Abba Father’s love for us is what I want, above all else, to teach my children. If I can teach them nothing else, this is what I want them to know. You can listen to the beautiful back story of the song here.

This I Believe (The Creed) by Hillsong. I wrote about remembering Jesus through the Apostles’ Creed, and this steadying, steadfast song came rushing back to me. It’s been a Favorite before, but it’s worth a re-listen for its encapsulation of the foundations of our faith. (And speaking of the creeds, IF:Equip is currently studying through the Nicene Creed. They say it works better on a mobile device than a traditional computer, but I’m receiving the daily emails, so I can still listen to the conversations.)

None But Jesus by Hillsong. I think the phrase “there is no one else for me” pretty much sums it all up.

Cornerstone by Hillsong. This was the first song that played on one of my long tuk tuk rides. Then I arrived at the event, and we sang it corporately. I thought maybe God was trying to say something to me. . .

Where Would We Be by Matt Redman. “Where would we be without Your love? We’d still be lost in darkness. Where would we be without Your cross? You made a way to save us.” Another song from one of my long tuk tuk rides. Love that Gospel message. It never gets old.

This is Amazing Grace by Phil Wickham. We sang it on Easter morning. Enough said.

Sometimes by Step by Rich Mullins. A sermon about walking in step with the Spirit reminded me of this classic song, which I think might be the theme song for my life: “Oh God, You are my God, and I will ever praise You. And I will seek You in the morning, and I will learn to walk in Your ways. And step by step You’ll lead me, and I will follow You all of my days.”

(Speaking of Rich Mullins, you can never have too many of his songs, right? Here’s one of his last concerts, recorded at Wheaton. I especially love his song The Love of God, which was so precious to me last year.)

All Men are Broken by Misty Edwards. I fiercely want to communicate God’s love to my children, but I sometimes (like this month) find myself being more short-tempered with them than I’d like. I had to get on my knees and tell them I was sorry and that God is a much better parent than Mommy. I hope they can learn God is not like Mommy but is infinitely better.

 

MOVIES, PODCASTS, AND VIDEOS

Tracey Bickle on overcoming offense. Tracey’s book Chaos Beneath the Shade greatly helped me in working through some bitterness and anger at the beginning of this year. And it was largely because of her that I began a gratitude journal. This short video is a little snippet of her main message.

Q&A session with Dr. N.T. Wright at Oklahoma Christian University. I love listening to the way Wright answers questions with no hesitation and with such knowledge of the Scriptures. Listening to him makes me realize how very much I don’t know. I first heard Wright speak on women in ministry several years ago, and I loved the way he started with Mary Magdalene at the resurrection as the starting point for including women in ministry. He touches on that in this question-and-answer period and also gives thoughtful answers to questions about controversial topics like predestination. And, he LOVES the Church. It’s so obvious in the way he esteems both the Church and individual Christians. That’s uncommonly refreshing in this day and age.

Christianity and Gendered Eating by Christina Van Dyke. This isn’t anything I’d ever put words to before, but it’s something I’ve felt, and this was so very refreshing a perspective.

Undone/Redone podcast interviewed Jacque Watkins from the Mud Stories podcast, which I also love. Jacque’s story is a tear-jerker, so get ready to cry all over your desk (or wherever it is that you listen to podcasts). Here’s Part 2 of the interview.

This Is Not a Feminist Song by Ariana Grande and the ladies of Saturday Night Live. I should preface this by saying I don’t normally watch Saturday Night Live. But a friend shared this song, and I fell in love. It’s so funny I couldn’t stop laughing, and so true I couldn’t stop singing it. (And be forewarned that there’s one minor bad word.)

Wives and Daughters, a BBC adaptation of Elizabeth Gaskell’s novel of the same name. An international teenager who knew how much I loved Gaskell’s North and South recommended this one. A gentle love story with well-developed characters, and another triumph of screenwriter Andrew Davies.

 

The rest of the post is just quotes, so if you’re not interested, you can just stop here 🙂

 

C.S. LEWIS QUOTES (from Prince Caspian):

Too often I ask “what would have happened if. . . .” I needed this conversation between Lucy and Aslan as a gentle reminder to stop:

“’You mean, said Lucy rather faintly, ‘that it would have turned out all right – somehow? But how? Please, Aslan, am I not to know?’

‘To know what would have happened? No. Nobody is ever told that.’

‘Oh dear,’ said Lucy.

‘But anyone can find out what will happen,’ said Aslan.”

Then, an experience we have probably all had:

“’Aslan,’ said Lucy, you’re bigger.’

‘That is because you are older, little one,’ answered he.

‘Not because you are?’

‘I am not. But every year you grow, you will find me bigger.’”

On mutual joy between Creator and the created:

“But all night, Aslan and the Moon gazed upon each other with joyful and unblinking eyes.”

A hag/witch offers her services to fight evil with evil, illustrating the need to be wary of the source of our power:

“I have some poor little skill in small spells and cantrips that I’d be glad to use against our enemies if it was agreeable to all concerned. For I hate ’em. Oh yes. No one hates better than me.”

 

MADELEINE L’ENGLE QUOTES (from A Wrinkle in Time):

Closely following on that last Lewis quote is a quote from L’Engle’s main character Meg, who was told to fight the evil power IT with something she had that IT didn’t have:

“What have I got that IT hasn’t got. . . . suddenly she knew. She knew! Love. That was what she had that IT did not.”

And then Meg uses all the love she has received from her family and friends and the love she cherishes for her brother in order to save him from the clutches of the evil IT, who had taken her brother captive. Love: so much better and more powerful than hate and anger.

A statement from Meg, on understanding the tesseract (a way to skip through space-time faster than light):

“For just a moment I got it! I can’t possibly explain it now, but for a second I saw it!”

I read this statement as a child and hid it somewhere deep inside me. During engineering school I would pull it out and use it: I always wanted to understand WHY we used certain formulas. If I could understand a proof, even if for only a second, then I knew I could trust it forever. (And this was especially true of “residuals” with Dr. Sitton!)

From Calvin, who doesn’t fit into his own family, on his way to another family’s house for supper:

“I’ve never even seen your house, and I have the funniest feeling that for the first time in my life I’m going home!”

And a word for TCKs and other third culture people:

“It’s my worst trouble, getting fond. If I didn’t get fond I could be happy all the time.” 

 

MADELEINE L’ENGLE QUOTES (from A Circle of Quiet):

These are some of the quotes that brought me to tears, because I was like, um, yes!

“Every so often I need OUT; something will throw me into total disproportion, and I have to get away from everybody – away from all these people I love most in the world – in order to regain a sense of proportion.”

“My special place is a small brook in a green glade, a circle of quiet from which there is no visible sign of human beings.”

“All during the decade of my thirties (the world’s fifties) I went through spasms of guilt because I spent so much time writing, because I wasn’t like a good New England housewife and mother.”

 

LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERY QUOTES (from Jane of Lantern Hill):

Because I think everyone can relate to this in some way:

“Jane opened the most secret chamber of her heart and took him in . . . nay, found him there.”

From the section when Jane first sees the sea on Prince Edward Island, because I feel this way about the sea too (and about palm trees):

“She had seen Lake Ontario, pale blue and shimmering, but this. . .this? She continued to look at it as if she could never have enough of it.” 

Boy do I ever relate to this statement from Jane’s father:

“I can write, my Jane, but I can’t make porridgeable porridge.”

As I said, I like to look at the night sky, and this is one of the reasons:

“’Watch the stars whenever you are worried, Jane,’ said dad. ‘They’ll steady you . . . comfort you . . . balance you.’” 

Thoughts on home and belonging:

“Jane said nothing at first. She could only look. She had never been there before but it seemed as if she had known it all her life. The song the sea-wind was singing was music native to her ears. She had always wanted to ‘belong’ somewhere and she belonged here. At last she had a feeling of home.”

“’This. . . this is home,’ said Jane. Home . . . something she had never known before. She was nearer crying then than she had ever been in her life.”

“’As soon as you hang a picture on the wall,’ said dad, ‘the wall becomes your friend. A blank wall is hostile.’”

“Moonlight was spilling over everything from a full moon that hung like an enormous bubble over what must be a bay or harbor, and there was one splendid, sparkling trail across the water. So there was a moon in P.E. Island too. Jane hadn’t really believed it before. And polished to the Queen’s taste. It was like seeing an old friend. That moon was looking down on Toronto as well as P.E. Island. Perhaps it was shining on Jody, asleep in her little attic room, or on mother, coming home from some gay affair. Suppose she were looking at it this very moment! It no longer seemed a thousand miles to Toronto.”

Thoughts on introversion and the inner life:

“Jane went out and up and sat on the hill . . . ‘to get back into herself’ as she expressed it. She had really been out of herself ever since the morning, more or less.”

“Jane had pushed the window open and the scent of fern came in. Also a strange, soft, faraway sound. . . the moaning call of the sea. The night seemed to be filled with it. Jane heard it and something deep down in her responded to it with a thrill that was between anguish and rapture.”

Because I live in Cambodia and laughed out loud when I read this:

“I made a cake yesterday and ants got in the icing. I was so mortified because we had company for supper. I wish I knew how to keep ants in their place.”

And lastly, some thoughts on grief:

“Jane walked the floor of her room all the rest of that afternoon. She dared not sit down for a moment. It seemed that as long as she kept moving, her pain marched with her and she could bear it. If she were to stop, it would crush her.”

Which reminded me of the quote from Barbara Kingsolver’s The Poisonwood Bible, which I didn’t read when the Velvet Ashes Book Club read it, but I remember them talking about this quote:

“As long as I kept moving, my grief streamed out behind me like a swimmer’s long hair in water. I knew the weight was there but it didn’t touch me. Only when I stopped did the slick, dark stuff of it come float in around my face, catching my arms and throat till I began to drown. So I just didn’t stop.”

 

RICHARD ROHR QUOTES (from Wondrous Encounters):

Prayers for everyday and everyone:

“God of Spirit and Truth, I know that no change of heart happens without a change of mind, and no change of mind happens without a change of heart. Get me started in one place or the other!”

“God of love and justice, let me know and live that they are not separate. Loving people will do justice, and just people will do their work with love and respect.”

On Jesus’s story of the publican and the sinner, and Hosea’s statement that “I desire mercy, not sacrifice”:

“The Pharisee is the common heroic ‘sacrificer.’ People do not realize that this gesture largely feeds the ego and one’s sense of self much more than anything else. God does not need it. You need it. Sacrifice is unconsciously an attempt to control God, who does much better without our control. ‘I fast twice a week, I pay tithes on all I possess . . . . I am not like the rest of men,’ he says. It looks like you are giving to God, country, church, the sports team, so all will undoubtedly admire you for it.

The social payoffs are so ego-inflating, there is no likelihood that ‘for God and country’ thinking will diminish anytime soon. Sacrifice is often good and needed in life to help other people, but too often it is an attempt to build a more positive self-image by distinguishing oneself from others.”

On prophecy:

“Most of us have been led to believe that prophets ‘foretell’ the future. That is true, and it is also misleading. It is not the point here. Prophets are seers of the big patterns; they see what is always and forever true. Prophets like Isaiah know how God acts by watching and listening, and they have no doubt about the ‘meta-narratives,’ the Real Story that is always going on inside of our little stories.”

On having blind spots:

“Our lack of self-knowledge and our lack of wisdom make humans do very stupid and self-destructive things. Because humans cannot see their own truth very well, they do not read reality very well either. We all have our tragic flaws and blind spots. Humans always need more light or enlightenment about themselves and about the endless mystery of God.”

On sin:

“Spirituality is about seeing. Sin is about blindness, or as Saint Gregory of Nyssa will say, ‘Sin is always a refusal to grow.’”

On prayer:

“The secret in biblical prayer in always to expect God to be true to God’s own name, identity, and patterns of goodness in the past, and not just begging God to conform to my immediate ego needs.”

On hope:

“Hope is not some vague belief that ‘all will work out well,’ but Biblical hope is the certainty that things finally have a victorious meaning no matter how they turn out.”

But I’ve done all these good things . . .

/ trotters41 / 2 Comments

by Elizabeth

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The question came as Jesus was beginning His last journey to Jerusalem. It came as He was heading toward His most heart-rending task, as He was starting the long descent toward death: “Good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?”

We all know the story. A young, rich, religious man calls Jesus good and then asks Him how to achieve eternal life. Jesus first scolds him for calling anyone “good” but God. Then, feeling genuine love for the man, Jesus tells him to follow the commandments and proceeds to list several of them.

The man defends himself. “I’ve obeyed all these commandments since I was young,” he says. But Jesus informs him that there is still something he hasn’t done – namely, to sell all his possessions, give the money to the poor, and follow Jesus. The man’s face falls when he hears this, and he goes away sad, for he was a very wealthy man.

I’d always glossed over this incident, thinking it might not apply to me. (I’d also neglected to notice until now that it occurred just before Jesus enters Jerusalem for the last time.) But this month as I again worked my way through the end of Jesus’ earthly ministry, it suddenly struck me: the story of the rich, young ruler is my story.

“I’ve obeyed all these commandments since I was young” — once upon a time I said those words out loud, too. I’d just been confronted by my own sin, and I was shocked. I remember protesting, “But I’ve spent my whole life trying to follow God!” My statement was just another version of the rich, young man’s statement; it was just another version of pride.

And like the man, my face fell too. When I saw my attitude for what it was — sin — I did an abrupt U-turn. I interpreted my sin as the worst of all sins and became very depressed. My sin wasn’t a sin that could be forgiven, you see. A sin like mine didn’t deserve God’s grace and forgiveness. Where before I had thought I was better than others, I now thought I was worse.

I rolled around in my sorrow and self-pity until a friend gently pointed out that I was exhibiting reverse pride: the kind of pride that says my sins are so bad they can’t be forgiven. I had flipped from the regular old pride of thinking I was a good person to the insidious, upside-down version of pride that said I could never deserve God’s forgiveness.

But my goodness was never good enough anyway, and reverse pride is a sin to repent of, too. So Jesus basically said the same thing to me that He said to the young man: “There is something you still lack.” That something was a humble awareness of grace. Because in the end, Jesus didn’t ask me to give up all my possessions. (Moving to Asia isn’t the same thing.)

What Jesus has asked me to give up is the idea of myself as someone who has done good things. He’s asked me to give up the idea that I’ve followed the commands well. Because I haven’t. And He’s asked me to give up the idea that any sin is beyond His reach, including the prideful belief that I have no (or very small) sins.

As Jesus watched the man in this story walk away, He explained to His disciples how difficult it is for a rich person to enter the Kingdom of heaven. His announcement left the disciples wondering who in the world could be saved – because to a certain extent, we all trust in both riches and our own good works.

But here is where the story gets good, because Jesus told His disciples that “What is impossible for people is possible with God.” And He kept walking toward Jerusalem to make the impossible, possible. He kept walking toward Jerusalem to make the man’s question irrelevant. He kept walking toward Jerusalem to demonstrate His genuine love for us and to give a very un-good humanity the goodness that belongs to God alone.

Whether we’ve done “all these things” since our youth or not.

–

(Originally published at A Life Overseas.)