Monday, November 24, 2014

Enraptured, Drawn

Psalm 95:1-7
Come, let us sing for joy to the Lord;
    let us shout aloud to the Rock of our salvation.
Let us come before him with thanksgiving
    and extol him with music and song.
For the Lord is the great God,
    the great King above all gods.
In his hand are the depths of the earth,
    and the mountain peaks belong to him.
The sea is his, for he made it,
    and his hands formed the dry land.
Come, let us bow down in worship,
    let us kneel before the Lord our Maker;
for he is our God
    and we are the people of his pasture,
    the flock under his care.

Ephesians 1:15-23
For this reason, ever since I heard about your faith in the Lord Jesus and your love for all God’s people, I have not stopped giving thanks for you, remembering you in my prayers. I keep asking that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the glorious Father, may give you the Spirit of wisdom and revelation, so that you may know him better. I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in his holy people, and his incomparably great power for us who believe. That power is the same as the mighty strength he exerted when he raised Christ from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly realms, far above all rule and authority, power and dominion, and every name that is invoked, not only in the present age but also in the one to come. And God placed all things under his feet and appointed him to be head over everything for the church, which is his body, the fullness of him who fills everything in every way.

TUESDAY // Enraptured, Drawn
We don’t often appreciate life—we don’t enjoy the value therein, respect the frailty thereof—we surge ahead without much thought to the intricacies that mark our stories. We, as a culture, become so enthralled with our own ambitions and pursuits we miss the brilliance all around us; we fail to marvel and wonder. Some would say they aren’t the “marveling type;” some people simply aren’t raptured by the sunrise, by laughter, by beauty. Though, to challenge such a notion, we are all captivated by one thing or another. We choose our poisons—or they choose us. We are all enslaved by something: for one it might be art; for another, football; for another, television; and for another, sexuality. We are whimsical creatures, tossed about the waves of our own desires, tied down by the ambitions of our minds and compelled by that which we believe will make us happy. This is the human state: to be enraptured to a god.

We make our choices, choose our battles, and find our niches. We order and organize those things we hold most dear, whether animate or inanimate, idea or object or soul. In these we place our hope, we find our identities and we seek our joys. In these, we search for joy, often finding either happiness or something so numbing we forget why we’re searching. Busyness is such a god, as is control, fear, pain, lust, and vicariousness. To pursue joy so detached is more destructive than to never pursue it at all. And the withdrawal of all of this becomes anxiety—a gaping whole within our hearts, decaying our hope and conquering our minds. Whatever and whomever our gods, the lack thereof becomes anxiety. And anxiety is a powerful motivator to blindly consume something, anything, to fill in that hole. There is no appreciation in anxiety, as survival becomes paramount and the emptiness must be filled.

No matter the goodness, the no matter the reason, binding our hearts to something or someone so whimsical, so buoyant, will always leave us wanting. We cannot understand such a concept with only our minds: it is too grand, too magnificent. To appreciate life, we must appreciate creation—our creation. And we cannot appreciate our creation without appreciating God, by whom we were drawn and through whom we live.

We cannot appreciate life, nor hope, nor joy, nor ourselves, so long as we bind our hearts to such buoyancy. Emotions, ambitions, people and objects are fleeting and unstable, responses to an immediate inclination. They are part of us, of our lives, but they are not infinite. They will disappoint. They will not fill our voids.

We must bind our hearts to infinitum, wherein there is no withdrawal. How can there be withdrawal is there is neither beginning nor end? And lacking withdrawal, there is no anxiousness, there is no wanting. This is not to say we cannot appreciate art, games, people or sexuality. This is not to say we cannot appreciate emotion or pain. Every one of these characteristics and objects of life compose our being, becomes marks in our storybooks. But are any of them ruling us? Are we enraptured to a single one? Captivated by something drawing our hearts away from God?

We lack appreciation for God, for what he has done, if we bind our hearts more tightly to something other than him. Such is preferring the creation to the creator; there is no work without the artist, no dream without the dreamer. We can place value and importance, pride, passion and love in any number of things or people or feelings—but should we lose sight of God, we’ve lost sight of his magnificence. We must not become captivated by anything more than God. This doesn’t mean we must forget to live; we are here to live. We are here to live in such a way that we build an infinite relationship with our creator, that we find our joy in him.

Where are our passions? In what do we place the most value?

ARE WE ROOTED IN CHRIST—building our lives in and of him?

What captivates us? What are our hearts bound to?

This process of being enraptured by the Lord is neither simple nor quick—ARE WE INVITING THE PROCESS and the struggles contained therein?

Is your faith grounded or buoyant? Why?

What thoughts or emotions are stirred by these images? By this conversation?

Beware of allowing yourself to think that the shallow aspects of life are not ordained by God; they are ordained by Him equally as much as the profound. We sometimes refuse to be shallow, not out of our deep devotion to God but because we wish to impress other people with the fact that we are not shallow. This is a sure sign of spiritual pride. We must be careful, for this is how contempt for others is produced in our lives. And it causes us to be a walking rebuke to other people because they are more shallow than we are. Beware of posing as a profound person— God became a baby.

To be shallow is not a sign of being sinful, nor is shallowness an indication that there is no depth to your life at all— the ocean has a shore. Even the shallow things of life, such as eating and drinking, walking and talking, are ordained by God. These are all things our Lord did. He did them as the Son of God, and He said, “A disciple is not above his teacher…” (Matthew 10:24).

We are safeguarded by the shallow things of life. We have to live the surface, commonsense life in a commonsense way. Then when God gives us the deeper things, they are obviously separated from the shallow concerns. Never show the depth of your life to anyone but God. We are so nauseatingly serious, so desperately interested in our own character and reputation, we refuse to behave like Christians in the shallow concerns of life.

Make a determination to take no one seriously except God. You may find that the first person you must be the most critical with, as being the greatest fraud you have ever known, is yourself.

–Oswald Chambers

Lord, teach us to be enraptured by your love—to know you in the closest and most far-reaching corners of our lives.


Monday, November 17, 2014

Love in Brilliance

Matthew 25:14-30
“It’s also like a man going off on an extended trip. He called his servants together and delegated responsibilities. To one he gave five thousand dollars, to another two thousand, to a third one thousand, depending on their abilities. Then he left. Right off, the first servant went to work and doubled his master’s investment. The second did the same. But the man with the single thousand dug a hole and carefully buried his master’s money.

“After a long absence, the master of those three servants came back and settled up with them. The one given five thousand dollars showed him how he had doubled his investment. His master commended him: ‘Good work! You did your job well. From now on be my partner.’

“The servant with the two thousand showed how he also had doubled his master’s investment. His master commended him: ‘Good work! You did your job well. From now on be my partner.’

“The servant given one thousand said, ‘Master, I know you have high standards and hate careless ways, that you demand the best and make no allowances for error. I was afraid I might disappoint you, so I found a good hiding place and secured your money. Here it is, safe and sound down to the last cent.’

“The master was furious. ‘That’s a terrible way to live! It’s criminal to live cautiously like that! If you knew I was after the best, why did you do less than the least? The least you could have done would have been to invest the sum with the bankers, where at least I would have gotten a little interest.

“‘Take the thousand and give it to the one who risked the most. And get rid of this “play-it-safe” who won’t go out on a limb. Throw him out into utter darkness.’

TUESDAY // Love in Brilliance
We navigate life through a series of cautious or risky decisions. Everything we do is a gamble, every action a balance of risk and reward. Will a healthy lifestyle give us longer and better lives? Will a college degree help you obtain a higher-paying job? Are we making the most of our lives? This is an amazing question to be asked and reflected upon regularly—am I getting the most out of life, and am I giving the most into life? Life certainly consists of the give and take of risk, but life is about more than risk. We should not be about the end goal, but the stewardship of life itself in pressing on toward that goal.

There is a certain degree of caution we must carry into this life, and that degree is dependent upon the situation we find ourselves in. Should we go here, or spend that, or try this—these questions have very different meanings and answers for each person. There is no one-size-fits-all to life. Stewardship is not measured in dollars or successes, but is measured according to our abilities and our effort. Stewardship is not unlike this: it’s not about how much or how far or how long, rather it is built upon the effort spent to make the journey great. It is not, however, something that can be measured, as it is a matter of the heart. We should no more charge into life haphazardly than we should fearfully. Life, itself, is a balance of risk and reward. It takes conscious, intentional thought and willingness to be successful, to thrive. But we must not forget that thriving, as an output of stewardship, cannot be measured in how much or how far or how long. Many such paupers thrive while princes decay. There is but one “how” to measure the stewardship of life, and it is the only “how” God is interested in: how brilliantly have we loved?

We are redeemed not to fear life, or fear God, or fear this adventure. We are redeemed to make something more of ourselves, our lives, our experiences, our dreams. Our hearts are captured and captivated that we might become magnetic, that we might grow beyond ourselves. God has not commanded us to pursue success; neither has he commanded us to fear failure. Instead, God has commanded us to make the most of what he has given us, each according to our abilities. And should we do so, he entrusts us with more. We must not mistake this to be simply a lesson in wealth, however—God is not interested in our wealth, rather in the stewardship of our lives and our love. The only question that matters, the only way to measure stewardship by God’s design—how brilliantly have we loved?

How do we define thriving? Is there a simple definition, or is it something unique and independent—something special to us? We cannot define thriving for another… we often cannot adequately define it for ourselves. What we determine to be our needs, our desires, our foundation, will be different for each person we meet. We are all unique, with individual needs, perspectives, goals and benchmarks. We define our lives uniquely, and we are uniquely Christ’s children. There is not one person that can define what thriving means for us, nor can we define what thriving means for another. We can presume and suppose, but we do not possess the empathy to truly understand contentment and thriving from another’s perspective.
With this in mind, why do we so often project onto others our own ideas of how they should be living? How they should be thriving? We do this, veiling our eyes to the reality of our neighbors and painting them with our own presumptions of who they are. We are intended, designed, to steward our lives and our relationships. We are meant not to play life safe, nor reckless, but to draw the most from it and love as brilliantly as we can.

Do we allow others to thrive in their own way?

Do we pity or judge others based on our perceptions of their lives?

What right have we to presume we know another person’s story?

Do we fear life—are we so terrified of what could be or how uncomfortable something might be that we don’t even allow it the opportunity to flourish?

What are we doing to steward our lives and our relationships?


One of our severest lessons comes from the stubborn refusal to see that we must not interfere in other people’s lives. It takes a long time to realize the danger of being an amateur providence, that is, interfering with God’s order for others. You see a certain person suffering, and you say – He shall not suffer, and I will see that he does not. You put your hand straight in front of God’s permissive will to prevent it, and God says – "What is that to thee?" If there is stagnation spiritually, never allow it to go on, but get into God’s presence and find out the reason for it. Possibly you will find it is because you have been interfering in the life of another; proposing things you had no right to propose; advising when you had no right to advise. When you do have to give advice to another, God will advise through you with the direct understanding of His Spirit; your part is to be so rightly related to God that His discernment comes through you all the time for the blessing of another soul. –Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest, Nov 15


Lord, teach us to find value in everything you create, in everything you give us. We want to better see our neighbors for who they are—as you created them to be. Help us understand their lives are their own, between they and you. Help us understand we are commanded to steward the lives and relationships you have given us. Guide our steps, Lord, that we would not take life recklessly, nor fearfully. amen.

Monday, November 10, 2014

Raw Transparency

Psalm 70:1-8
Hasten, O God, to save me;
    come quickly, Lord, to help me.
May those who want to take my life
    be put to shame and confusion;
may all who desire my ruin
    be turned back in disgrace.
May those who say to me, “Aha! Aha!”
    turn back because of their shame.
But may all who seek you
    rejoice and be glad in you;
may those who long for your saving help always say,
    “The Lord is great!”
But as for me, I am poor and needy;
    come quickly to me, O God.
You are my help and my deliverer;
    Lord, do not delay.

Amos 5:18-24
Woe to you who long
    for the day of the Lord!
Why do you long for the day of the Lord?
    That day will be darkness, not light.
It will be as though a man fled from a lion
    only to meet a bear,
as though he entered his house
    and rested his hand on the wall
    only to have a snake bite him.
Will not the day of the Lord be darkness, not light—
    pitch-dark, without a ray of brightness?
“I hate, I despise your religious festivals;
    your assemblies are a stench to me.
Even though you bring me burnt offerings and grain offerings,
    I will not accept them.
Though you bring choice fellowship offerings,
    I will have no regard for them.
Away with the noise of your songs!
    I will not listen to the music of your harps.
But let justice roll on like a river,
    righteousness like a never-failing stream!

If we have but one offering for God—one true, real, honest sentiment—if we have but one raw articulation for our Creator, it is our openness. To try to hide from God, to lie to God, to manipulate the facts or justify our actions or avoid the truth: these are foolish endeavors. We cannot escape the piercing gaze of Christ; we can only consume it. Our hearts determine the taste of the Lord’s word in our mouths—our righteousness not defined by anything we have said or done but by the grace we have been given. To accept we are broken—poor and needy—is to gift God the greatest artifact of our being we have to give: honesty. Words will always fail and actions are impure, but the open and honest attachments of our heart speak a truth more loudly than can we can speak otherwise.

Christ does not need a clean slate from us or a receipt for penance paid, he only wants to become our slate and the price by which we are redeemed. He is not waiting for us to figure things out and become “good enough,” as there is no “good enough” in the Kingdom of God. Likewise, there is no whole. Not of our own doing, at least.

Our places of greatest weakness become our sacrifices in the Kingdom of God—it is the surrender of our efforts to right our own paths that invites Christ to begin lacing his way through our hearts and minds. We live in a perpetual state of brokenness, regardless of the veils social constructs have spread across our eyes. We are all broken, and above all else we must seek peace, justice, openness. It is the transparency of our hearts that allows God’s work to be done in us, and the transparency of our lives that allows our neighbors to see it.

What are we holding on to—what obstructions and veils grip our hearts and hold tight the notion we can make it on our own? We can’t tackle this world on our own—life is not built for loners. We are created, formed, designed, crafted, built, sculpted and pressed for relationship. In those relationships, with both God and others, we are wholly responsible for honesty. If we are not open with God, we rob ourselves of opportunities to be used by God. All of our work, all of words, all of our offerings and gifts and ideas—these are meaningless if we are not honest with God and willing to be led.

What are some reasons we become closed off, distant or separate from God?

Do we try to hide things from God? Why do we feel we can or should hide anything from God?

What does it mean to be transparent with God?

How can we better maintain open and active communication with God? With our neighbors?

Are we ashamed to admit we are broken? To have someone see us for what we are?

Are we ashamed for God to see us for what and who we are?


If you are going to be used by God, He will take you through a multitude of experiences that are not meant for you at all, they are meant to make you useful in His hands, and to enable you to understand what transpires in other souls so that you will never be surprised at what you come across. Oh, I can’t deal with that person. Why not? God gave you ample opportunity to soak before Him on that line, and you barged off because it seemed stupid to spend time in that way.

Are we partakers of Christ’s sufferings? Are we prepared for God to stamp our personal ambitions right out? Are we prepared for God to destroy by transfiguration our individual determinations? It will not mean that we know exactly why God is taking us that way, that would make us spiritual prigs. We never realize at the time what God is putting us through; we go through it more or less misunderstandingly; then we come to a luminous place, and say— “Why, God has girded me, though I did not know it!”
–Oswald Chambers

Lord, teach us to become more visible and transparent for you, for your will and your plans for our lives. We want to explore the world you have set before us, hand in hand, learning of your good as we go. Help us better understand your heart and those things we desire in us. Continue to remind us that while we are yet broken, we are loved.

Monday, November 3, 2014

Steeling the Goodness of God

Psalm 34:1-14
I will extol the Lord at all times;
    his praise will always be on my lips.
I will glory in the Lord;
    let the afflicted hear and rejoice.
Glorify the Lord with me;
    let us exalt his name together.
I sought the Lord, and he answered me;
    he delivered me from all my fears.
Those who look to him are radiant;
    their faces are never covered with shame.
This poor man called, and the Lord heard him;
    he saved him out of all his troubles.
The angel of the Lord encamps around those who fear him,
    and he delivers them.

Taste and see that the Lord is good;
    blessed is the one who takes refuge in him.
Fear the Lord, you his holy people,
    for those who fear him lack nothing.
The lions may grow weak and hungry,
    but those who seek the Lord lack no good thing.
Come, my children, listen to me;
    I will teach you the fear of the Lord.
Whoever of you loves life
    and desires to see many good days,
keep your tongue from evil
    and your lips from telling lies.
Turn from evil and do good;
    seek peace and pursue it.

It is hard to grasp the goodness of God in the midst of our own chaos. For some of us, life is nothing but a chaotic mess, a disaster, a failed attempt at something good. Or so we think. Realistically, our scope of vision is so miniscule we really can’t know whether life is chaos or whether we’re flowing pretty evenly. Our judgment is skewed by our feelings, which are determined by our personalities. It is our perspective of life that decides whether it is good or bad, peaceful or chaotic, successful or failed. And that perspective changes as often as the wind. We are far from steadfast creatures—we are chaff, tossed around like ragdolls on the wings life, which we can neither fully see nor truly understand.

Where our consistency is garnered is the love of Christ and a willful desire to make the most of life. We all have choices to make, and even in choosing Christ, we cannot expect an “easy” or “clean” life. Instead, we ought to expect it to become more difficult, as we’re suddenly combating the value structures of our cultures. There is much work to be done upon choosing the Kingdom of God. We don’t work our way into heaven or earn Christ’s love; rather, we work to grow and learn. In doing so, we steel ourselves a bit more with each passing day. It is this construction of Christ within us that creates a firm foundation, such that when life is ready to start tossing ragdolls, we at least come back down in the same general vicinity, if only within our own souls. Less chaff to gather; fewer pieces to pick up.

The goodness of God is not found in what we do or do not receive, or in how we do or do not feel. No, the goodness of God is a marathon of sorts, glimpsed here and there in the changing landscape that becomes our hearts. It is the rock we learn to rest on, the strategies we learn to cope with chaos, the love we learn to accept when everything starts to fade away. The goodness of God is not reserved, but freely given, and is steadily chiseling away at our perceptions of life when we open our souls to it.

Consider your past week. Was it good or bad? What are your criteria for making such a conclusion? We often answer that question based on what happened or didn’t happen; based on what we said or didn’t say; what we did or didn’t do. We make that decision based on how we perceived the events of our week, rather than on how we responded to those perceptions. Sure, we may have difficult weeks or months or years, but that difficulty is measured only in our experiences and only in ways we can understand.

So, considering your past week…

What were some things that were difficult?

What was good?

What are you THANKFUL for?

How can we look at those difficult things differently? How can you change your perspective a bit?

WHAT CAN WE LEARN from those experiences? How can that learning make this next week a little easier?

Did you spot the GOODNESS OF GOD, even in those difficult times?


“Yesterday I was clever, so I wanted to change the world. Today I am wise, so I am changing myself.” – Rumi

“I can’t change the direction of the wind, but I can adjust my sails to always reach my destination.” – Jimmy Dean

“Put your heart, mind, and soul into even your smallest acts. This is the secret of success.” – Swami Sivananda

The first thing God does with us is to get us based on rugged Reality until we do not care what becomes of us individually as long as He gets His way for the purpose of His Redemption. Why shouldn’t we go through heartbreaks? Through those doorways God is opening up ways of fellowship with His Son. Most of us fall and collapse at the first grip of pain; we sit down on the threshold of God’s purpose and die away of self-pity, and all so called Christian sympathy will aid us to our death bed. But God will not. He comes with the grip of the pierced hand of His Son, and says— “Enter into fellowship with Me; arise and shine.” If through a broken heart God can bring His purposes to pass in the world, then thank Him for breaking your heart.
– Oswald Chambers

Lord, teach us to see this life as you do—as you created it. Teach us to understand there is a bigger picture and to find you in our pursuit of that. Father, our desire is to find rest in you; we want to entertain your goodness each and every day. Be our steadfast anchor in the midst of chaos.