A Prayer on Yom Kippur, the Jewish Day of Atonement

May we who hear, but fear it is too good to be true, have healing
May we who hear, but are confused, have understanding
May we who hear, but do not respond, remember again the beauty of
Your truth
May we who hear, but have our vision blurred by memories, find peace
May we who hear imperfectly, live imperfectly, know imperfectly
Never hesitate to listen, to try, to love,
That we might know more of You with each imperfect step

Lent in September

Do you observe Lent in any way? I used to not really get the whole fasting thing. For years, I'd give up chocolate each spring as a way of earning brownie points with God. I found this frustrating--I couldn't see why God would care whether or not I had a Snicker's bar in the first place. Then again, I never lasted more than a few days.

Then, not too long ago, a friend told me about how he uses Lent as a time to re-submit himself to God. And, as part of that process, he lays aside anything that might be standing in the way of their relationship. At the end of Lent, he will prayerfully decide whether to bring those things back into his life.

We all know that sometimes hobbies, activities, interests--even really good ones, like attending eight Bible studies a week; or learning Greek, Hebrew, and Latin-- can get in the way of our relationship with our Father in Heaven. I love my recent obsession--er--hobby. Forty days seems like forever. But I think that Lent can't come soon enough for me.

Father, I want to want You. Help me to live in such a way that I never hesitate to follow You. Forgive me for the petty things that I allow to distract me from You each day. Please take these forty days, this tiny sacrifice, and use it to draw me nearer to You.

Quote of the Moment

"When I am talking to somebody there are always two conversations going on. The first is on the surface; it is about politics or music or whatever it is our mouths are saying. The other is beneath the surface, on the level of the heart, and my heart is communicating that I like the person I am talking to or I don't. God wants both conversations to be true. That is, we are supposed to speak truth in love."

-Donald Miller
in "Blue Like Jazz"

Defining Our Mission Fields

I dream of working in an orphanage. I dream of being a second grade teacher. I dream of adopting four--no six--children from Russia, or South America, or Africa. But today I'm a twenty-three year old with too much debt left over from college and an entry-level job, who's mother has very graciously let her live at home and share a room with her younger brother (poor guy).

Tonight I was thinking about how we don't become missionaries for God in ten years, ten months, or ten weeks. 1 Corinthians 12:5 says "There are different kinds of service, but the same Lord."

If we are following Him, we are right where He wants us to be. For me, that means I am a missionary to my friends, my family, the people I work with, the two Mormon missionaries I've been meeting with each Thursday night...As I remember that they are the people God has given me to serve, I am more willing to wash the dishes, take the short lunch break, brush off the comment..."Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another's feet."

What about you? What is your primary mission field?

Prayer of the Children

Came across this long-forgotten song last week. May we always have ears to hear.

A Goal

I want to be more amazed by God's grace than I am by my own sinfullness.

Invisible

Our God is the God of hidden things
When I am in my secret place
Or in the crowd, calling out
When I am on the stage, hidden behind my costume
He sees me
He knows me
With God there is no Anonymous
No Vail
No Invisible Man

The heavy burden of secret sorrows
Press down on us
I laugh to hide the tears
I smile to hide the pain
I know the act all too well

Our friends walk through us
We are not people, but objects
Symbols
Even my enemies have forgotten me

The pit of sin has trapped us
I lie bruised and bleeding in the darkness
In fear, I struggle to hide myself
Like a middle-aged man
Trying in vain to hide a bald spot under too little hair
And not even fooling himself

We pretend
And yet the burden remains
We long to be found
Or perhaps find ourselves

Our God is the God of mysteries
Confused in the darkness
Or in the crowd, crying out
When I am on the stage, hiding behind my mask
He remembers me
He loves me

Laziness as a Habit

I guess I'll just have to be blunt. I'm lazy. Undisciplined.

I took piano lessons this past summer. I love music. Honest. And yet my music books would sit on the piano bench gathering dust until the day before my lesson--or sometimes the HOUR before my lesson--until at the last moment I would try to cram. It didn't work when I took trig (either the first or second time...) and it didn't work with piano, either.

Occasionally, I could fake it. I would talk big to my teacher--"I loved this part of the song [because I actually know how to play it...], but I really struggled with this portion [I think...though I've only attempted it once so I don't really know]."

I'm not a horrible musician, but my talent is certainly not such that I could ever go professional...When I don't practice for my lesson, the stakes are not that high, though I have essentially thrown away some money.

But what about when this lack of discipline, this laziness, comes out in other areas of my life? What about when it effects my walk with God?

How consistent am I about reading the Bible? Setting aside time for quiet, focused prayer? Enriching and being enriched by a small community of believers?

When I am sad or confused, I devour my Bible like the essential food to the soul that it is. I fast. I drive to my favorite grassy field, that place where God met me so many years ago, so I can talk to Him and listen for His voice, uninterrupted, undistracted. When I am joyful, I revisit my favorite scriptures. I sing psalms of praise.

But then there's day to day life. That takes discipline, consistency. So often in the "bleh" of life, I'll perhaps read a few verses from the Bible (and not really think about them), breathe a quick "thank you for Your amazing blessings...please help me to follow You." And I'll collapse into bed. But would I really throw my leftover time to the Lord of my Life like that if I was really trying to let Him be Lord of my Life?

I hope I'd never treat a spouse or child of mine that way. Our relationship would suffer. Fizzle. So why do I treat my most important relationship that way?

I want to serve God's children more faithfully. Hear His voice more clearly in the little moments of life. Allow Him to shine through me to others in a deeper, fuller way.

But as I reach out, I must continue getting to know Him better, growing deeper in my relationship with Him.

He is loving, holy, good. Why would I settle for anything less?

In for all I'm Worth

I went to visit my Dad this summer. Dad lives by the ocean in California. I mean, right by the ocean. I could hear the waves splash and crash as I lay in bed. I could walk along the beach before most people woke up each morning.

The ocean is amazing. I live without an ocean. I grew up without the ocean. When Mom says "Let's go to the beach," she's talking about the reservoir. I think the thing that really stuns me about the ocean is it's size. You can't see across it. The waves aren't made by speed boats. It's not a reservoir.

I loved walking beside the ocean, feeling the soft sand in my toes--the way it burned the bottoms of my feet one moment, and the next I would be shocked by a cold splash of water. But I really wanted to swim. I'm not much of a swimmer, but I was drawn to the ocean somehow, so I didn't want to go all the way to a California beach only get wet up to my knees.

So on my last day with Dad, I woke up especially early, put on my swimsuit, walked down the sidewalk, across the street, and through the sand, to the edge of the water. And there I waited. And waited. And waited. I'd take a few steps in...and then a few steps out. The water was just so cold!

The sun was getting higher in the sky. I knew I'd have to leave soon. My heart sank as I thought about the opportunity I might be too chicken to take. At last, nervous, expectant, excited, I took a deep breath, counted to three, and ran into the splashing waves for all I was worth.

"IT"S COLD!!!" I screamed, drawing the attention of the people who had begun to arrive, and filling my mouth with salty water. "I'M GOING TO FREEZE!"

I felt myself swept up, shoved, no longer in control of myself, but moved along by the waves. It was amazing. Glorious.

All this to say that lately I've been holding back. I know I've been holding back. I'll take a few steps toward my God, then get nervous, or lazy, or...or something and back away.

I see the beauty, the vastness...It's unlike anything else I know. It would be a tragedy, the tragedy of life, to say I only went knee deep, that I never swam in this Ocean. And yet I continue to come up with a million reasons not to.

So tonight I come again. I stand here again, nervous, expectant, excited as I take that deep breath. And I'm counting to three. One, two...