What Would I Give?

Anyone else get “zinged” in church this Sunday? I did! And mine was a double hitter! In my young adults class we talked about Generosity, what it is, what keeps us from it (our excuses,) what God says about it, and consequences for withholding it. End result…ever have that feeling like one of those huge multi-colored neon blinking arrows is right above your head? No one else might have seen it, but my psyche certainly did. Then in church we talked about what true Belief is. (Defined as: “Something considered to be true and worthy of ones trust; to entrust oneself to another with complete and total commitment.”—wow.) My pastor told this amazing story of a man he met in Uganda last week on a mission trip. The man came forward to pray to become a Christian and Jim asked him if he understood what that meant. He answered yes so Jim said, “Let’s pray.” The man stopped him and said, first I think you should know that I’m Muslim. Jim paused and looked the man in the eye and repeated the question: “Do you understand what you’re getting yourself into?” The man replied, “Yes, it means I may get kicked out of my family, lose my job, be ostracized from my community and become completely dependent on any charity the church gives me… I trust Jesus that much.” There was an audible collective gasp from the congregation. And I knew what we were all thinking. Do I believe like that?

After at lunch a couple of us talked about the messages and admitted to the difficulty in attaining this kind of Belief in Jesus. And, as God does so often with me, I spurted out a thought that made me stop and think about what I just said. I was talking about Moses and how I wouldn’t want his job. Hey, go to the most powerful man around and tell him he’s wrong and his power is going to crumble and his work force will be taken from him. Then lead a people who will grumble and complain against you and not listen to you. I wouldn’t want to live not knowing the next step I was to take until I took it. I would not want to wander seemingly aimlessly for decades!... But I want to see the waters part, and I want to go up onto the mountain and talk face to face with God. And I guess the question is, am I willing to give up everything I know for the chance to really see God move? 

Huh… would I? What would I give? Security? Future plans? Desires of my heart? Comfort? Reputation? And I realized. I WANT God. I have a deep longing that runs to the core of my being. And I’m terrified of the cost, but I have this sneaking suspicion that I’ll get to the point where my desire for more of Him trumps my fear. Because I’m not satisfied with once-a-week lessons that prick my moral and spiritual conscience. I’m not satisfied with guilt over what I haven’t done. I’m not satisfied with once a year mission trips. (Not that any of that is bad--far from it, I just want MORE.) I WANT God. I want to see the hopeless become the hopefuls. I want to paint my world in His colors! He is SO amazing! And I want people to see glimpses of who He truly is in all His complex and confusing shades. I used to sing a song long ago in a group called Living Proof. “There’s a voice calling me from an old rugged tree, and it whispers, ‘draw closer to me. Leave this world far behind, there are new heights to climb and a new place in me you will find.’ For whatever it takes, to draw closer to you Lord, that’s what I’ll be willing to do, and whatever it takes to be more like you, that’s what I’ll be willing to do. Take the dearest thing to me, if that’s how it must be to draw me closer to thee. Let the disappointments come, lonely days without the sun if through sorrow more like you I become. Take my houses and land, change my dreams and my plans for I’m placing my whole life in your hands. And if you call me today to a land far away, Lord I’ll go, and your will obey. I’ll trade comfort for pain, I’ll trade sunshine for rain, that’s what I’ll be willing to do. For whatever it takes for my heart to break, that’s what I’ll be willing to do.” … I think I’m beginning to get that song now. 

Silence is golden...

"Finding myself at a loss for words, and the funny thing is, it's okay..." No truer words have been sung. Alright that's a bit hyperbolic but that's how I felt day 1 of my "Word" fast for lent. I had expected that there would be plenty of moments I wanted attention in some capacity and only recognized it because of my vow of silence. What surprised me was how much I wanted to explain myself! To be understood. How hard it was for me to relinquish other people's opinions of me. Even small things like, "Well you can't talk but you can text so it will be alright." Well no, written words are still words, but I can't explain that to you because I've given up words! Another surprising thing: How LOUD it is in my mind! Even on day 1 I found it extremely hard to turn the inner monologue off. To be quiet and just listen. No wonder I often find myself in the past or future rather than engaged with the present. This was definitely a hindsight enlightenment to why I even began this fast. This past fall I found God leading me back to the scripture in James about being quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry. It got to the point where I would pray this over my life on a pretty regular basis. Then around December a seed was planted in my heart for the desire to do a word fast. This brings me back to lent. 

Well by day 5 I found myself in a constant battle to listen and not be drawn into my inner monologue. Seriously, it was like my brain had "shiny object" syndrome. You could say "cat" and I'd be gone for the next ten minutes thinking about my parent's cats and the Cheshire cat and the pros and cons of Dogs vs Cats, etc ad nausium. About this time I also began to realize a thread of critical thinking towards others but also towards myself. Take traffic for example. Someone would cut me off without even signaling with their blinker that they were headed in my direction and I would angrily rant about right-of-ways and politeness (as if they can hear me) then catch myself and begin to yell at myself for not being more forgiving and loving... something is wrong with this whole picture. 

Day 10 felt like the biggest milestone (even in I did have 30 more to go!) And I had found gentle ways of guiding my thoughts. I had decided that my drive to and from work would be times for me to exercise silence in my mind. So when thoughts would invade the stillness of the car I would gently correct, "Shhh... listen." Okay so it's a bit like talking to a child, but I figured it was better than "Shut up!" I also began to pay attention to colors. I never really appreciated color so much, but I would find myself in stunned silence looking at the green of the grass or the pink of the budding trees or that amazing red/orange of the sunset. But one of the biggest surprises was the discovery that God wasn't overly talkative when I was completely silent, and I finally realized that the times when I hear him the most is when I'm in dialogue with him. I'm an external processor and that's how God speaks to me. I can't tell you how many times I'll be talking (processing) and out of my mouth will come something that was never in my head. And I can't really put it into words, but there was this incredible connection between me and God in that revelation. He sees me, he knows me, he made me, he relates to me in my own terms... wow.  

Now I wish I could go on to tell you of a glorious victory and how much I am changed because of it, but the truth is, I knew going into this that there was a huge change of "failure" on my part. I had also told God that if I found myself getting overly angry or resentful towards him about a vow I made (and was not forced to make) that I would rather break the vow than blame him. I didn't last much beyond Day 10. Some of it had to do with the fact that I was beginning to have VERY vivid dreams that wore me out because all my unprocessed thoughts were cramming into them. Part of it was weakness of resolve. But I began talking socially again. Not all the time, but far more often than was needed. And while I admit that I failed, I also admit that I've forgiven myself. I'm proud of how far I made it, and maybe next year if I feel led, I'll make it even farther. I'm SO thankful for the things I learned and hope that this has given me tools to remain present in the moment, gently still my mind to listen, and think about others and myself with a more positive inner voice. Wow, that last sentence was rather long! And this blog is heading in the same direction. So before I become a complete hypocrite for saying "less is more" I'll end my words and focus on the present.