I am making the switch from Tumblr to a WordPress blog, which will enable comments on the blog site. Thus, the new URL for my blog is soulsplash.wordpress.com. My apologies to my RSS Feed subscribers who may or may not have received a repeat of all my past entries in the process of changing over. Thanks for your patience as I get all the kinks worked out, and as always….thanks for reading. Hope to see you all at WordPress. 

I went with a friend to see the movie, Eat Pray Love. There was one particular message that has resonated within me since leaving the theater. It goes something like this… “You must empty your mind of those things possessing it in order to make room for God to enter.” 

I have been mentally sorting through all the pointless thoughts that fill our minds…worry, fear, guilt, anger, confusion, foolishness, envy, disappointment, materialism, selfishness, arrogance, sadness, grief, etc. If our minds have only a limited capacity, then the more mental garbage we can empty from our brain, the more room God will have to fill us up with Him…His thoughts…His desires…His wisdom…His Spirit. 

The hard part is letting go, which takes a concentrated effort. Praying has often been challenging for me, because I find intrusive thoughts poking their way into my conversations with God. Maybe this is because I need to do a better job of clearing my head before I begin. In reality, though, this is something that needs to happen on an ongoing basis, not just before a concentrated time of prayer. If I am to be filled with His Spirit, I am going to have to do some spring cleaning upstairs and take out the trash.

I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not so great at moderation. In my efforts to lose my “baby weight,” I committed to a strict diet and exercise program, and I was extremely disciplined in it. On the other hand, when I chose to let myself “relax,” I was also great at making up for lost time by eating everything I had previously deprived myself of. Not a good strategy, to say the least.

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about what it would mean to simply live a healthy lifestyle…nothing drastic…but making good decisions in terms of nutrition and fitness. I realized that one of my biggest hang-ups is that I love food, and I love eating. In my struggles to get my 2 year-old to finish his food, I discovered that he eats when he’s hungry, and will eat only until he isn’t hungry anymore, and then he’ll be on his way. This usually means leaving most of the food on his plate that I had prepared for him. He doesn’t enjoy eating. He eats out of necessity rather than pleasure.

I’ve never studied gluttony, but it seems to be a topic commonly overlooked by the American church. Wikipedia defines gluttony as “over-indulgence and over-consumption of food, drink or intoxicants to the point of waste.” I suppose this implies that food is not simply wasted when you throw leftovers out, is also wasted (and gluttonous) if you eat more than you need. Yikes. 

In my reading yesterday, I ran across a scripture that seemed to reach out from the page and punch me in the face. Ecclesiastes 10:17 says, “Blessed are you, O land……whose princes eat at a proper time - for strength and not for drunkenness.” I can’t help but think of the numerous times I’ve heard someone pray over a big, greasy pizza, asking God to bless it to the nourishment of our bodies. Really??

It turns out that what you eat is a bid deal to God. It not only matters with regard to taking care of our bodies as temples, but also in terms of what our minds dwell on and what our hearts desire. It matters what we spend our time doing and longing for…what we hunger and thirst for.

Sounds like it’s time I started eating for strength, because I could definitely use more of that. 

I suppose I have become accustomed to change. A life in ministry has meant frequent moves for my family, making transition more of a familiar friend than an unwelcomed houseguest. Learning to live in the “in-between” goes against our nature to seek comfort and cocoon ourselves within it, undisturbed, for as long as possible. We instinctively cling to what we know and shy away from new territory. But, life is cyclical. The seasons relentlessly come and go, making change inevitable. Over time, I have begun to await and almost treasure walking through the next open door, although this eagerness has not been without cost.

Inwardly, I have struggled to find a place of sanctuary amongst the transiency that defines the life of a pastor’s family. I often lie in bed at night, staring at the ceiling that watches me sleep, wondering if I’ll ever be at ease. I ask my husband, “Do you feel at home here?” He knows I never have. Always anticipating the next phase, it has been tough to truly connect with the present and form close relationships. As though I sense myself pulling away and resisting attachment, I try in vain to stay one step ahead of an impending goodbye. It seems the key to peace lies in somehow finding that balance between security and flexibility; not being afraid to open myself up to the experiences of here and now, while also being prepared to bid them farewell. I envy school children as they excitedly soak up every ounce of sunshine during their summer vacation, all the while knowing that it will soon be over.  

The lack of consistency in my surroundings has taught me to search for solace elsewhere.  Regardless of where on the map my nomadic ventures take me, my God is unchanging, and my faith is home to me. Discovering this truth has sustained me through the passing away of seasons and people and jobs and homes and ministries. Because of this, I thank God for my life filled with moving boxes and new faces. I may never find a physical place of comfort in this life, and I’m content with that. My hope dwells in knowing that something better lies before me, just beyond another transition.

 And so, I cherish the chapter “in-between.” There are lessons to be learned through uncertainty, and the journey itself allows one to emerge a transformed person, time and again. I am renewed by change, and I welcome the next season. After all, Fall has always been my favorite time of year. Its briskness is a refreshing contrast to the dog days of summer that precede it. The leaves that thrived during hot, muggy months seem to have one last, colorful hurrah before their nearing journey downward. Although its very presence signals winter approaching, nature embraces Autumn. It celebrates the harvest and all the changes that comprise it. This is what makes the season smell the sweetest of all.

In my life, I have gone through periods where I feel distant from God, as though I have drifted away against my will. During one such struggle, I imagined myself lying on a raft, afloat in an enormous lake. I thought about how little effort it takes to slowly drift from your starting point. One tiny nudge, and gradually the distance between you and your intended location will grow greater and greater. Coasting gently, you can find yourself far out in the open water in no time. And it takes a lot more energy to get yourself back where you need to be.

I’ve always thought of God as being something like the dock, the point at which I started, and slowly drifted from…the thing that never moves. But, I underestimated Him. God is not just the dock. He is also the sky, and the breeze, and the water I’m floating in. I may drift, but even if I end up on the other side of the lake, I will still be within Him. “I will never leave you nor forsake you” seems a lot more real to me now. 

Lately, I have been wading through a period of uncertainty and discouragement. Of course, I’ve been trying to pray through it. In doing so, I have found myself frustrated with God, feeling abandoned, and wondering why He isn’t pouring out His blessing the way I think He should. In reality, though, my disappointment is in people, not in God. Somehow, He becomes a scapegoat for my feelings. Has this ever happened to you? Someone lets you down…you are disappointed in God. Someone leaves you all alone…you feel abandoned by God. Someone fails to follow through in a commitment…you blame God for leaving you high and dry. Someone hurts you…you wonder why God is making you miserable. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that the same free will that is given you by God is also given to everyone else. We are all free to make mistakes, which unfortunately have consequences on others as well. I’m trying to remember that God is good all the time, not just when things are going my way. 

My four month old was due for immunizations, so today I reluctantly took him to get his shots. He obviously had no idea where we were going, which only made me feel more guilty. Giggling at the nurse, he was enjoying the extra attention with no clue what was coming his way. I hate seeing my children in pain, but I know that vaccinations are for his own good. 

I wonder if God looks at us in that same way as we approach a difficult period in our lives. Maybe He watches us, happy and oblivious, knowing that we’re about to encounter something that will test our faith and our character. I can only imagine Him thinking to Himself as he allows me to endure trying times, “I hate seeing my child in pain, but this experience will make her stronger, more prepared for the future. It’s for her own good.”

I am so thankful that God is bigger than anything we could possibly encounter in this life. This fact has brought me immense comfort time and time again. 

I know that my 2 year old needs his nap time, although he doesn’t share this belief. He needs to rest from all the activity he’s been doing, renew his mind and get his attitude right. He needs a break, time to allow his body to catch up with the busy life of a toddler. If it were his choice, he would never take a nap. He has far better, and more important, things to do than waste time resting.

In Genesis chapter 2, the Bible tells us that God “rested on the seventh day from all His work which He had done. Then God blessed the seventh day and sanctified it, because in it He rested from all His work which God had created and made.” Chapter 20 states, “but the seventh day is a sabbath of the LORD your God; in it you shall not do any work…” God went beyond instituting a nap time, but instead designated a whole day per week for resting. He knew we would need it. He also knew we wouldn’t take it on our own. We would have far better, and more important, things to do than waste time resting.

Hebrews chapter 4 indicates that this command didn’t go away with the arrival of the New Testament. ”So there remains a Sabbath rest for the people of God. For the one who has entered His rest has himself also rested from his works, as God did from His. Therefore let us be diligent to enter that rest, so that no one will fall, through following the same example of disobedience.”

What do you do on your day of “rest”? Mow the lawn? Tackle that laundry pile? Go grocery shopping? Just because we aren’t getting paid to do work doesn’t mean we aren’t still working.  

When our first child was born, our world revolved around him. From the time we found out I was pregnant, my husband and I were talking to him and planning for his arrival. From birth, we were amazed at how much we loved that baby, and how his presence filled a place in our lives that we hadn’t even realized was empty. We poured all our love into that child, and our attention was focused on helping him to grow and develop as perfectly as possible.

Upon discovering I was pregnant with our second child, I began to feel a little worried. I couldn’t wrap my head around loving another person the way I loved our little boy. I prayed that I would figure this out, because I knew the new baby deserved as much love as our 2 year old. I thought back to the focused attention our oldest received, and began to feel guilty knowing our second born would get less of our attention, as we would be splitting it between the two of them. I was nervous about dividing my love.

But, then it occurred to me that our new baby would have something special that our oldest never possessed….a big brother. So, where our first born had the privilege of being the center of attention, our youngest would enter this world being loved intensely by three people, not just two. How cool was that??

When he was born, I was relieved that my husband and I loved that baby more than words could describe. I came to the realization that love is multiplied, not divided. Maybe the little guy is the lucky one, after all.