Living Things

This morning I am thinking about a provocative point my pastor once made in one of his messages.  He said, “You really can’t worship a living God by doing dead things.”  He spoke of practices and patterns of behavior which, however comfortable and familiar, are utterly unproductive.  His exhortation made a clear distinction between actions that are motivated by fear instead of faith…that are rooted in tradition, rather than truth…that originate from lore, but not from love.  In reflecting on this, I am reminded of the science lessons I used to teach my young students about the basic characteristics of living things.  For one thing, living things need to be fed or nourished.  Living things also show evidence of growth.  After learning about these and other characteristics, my students would apply a “living vs. non-living” test to a variety of animate and inanimate things to determine how each should be classified.  There was one thing that consistently confounded one or more children.  Movement.  If something was able to move—even if it was a bicycle—some students would classify it as a living thing.  Of course, external forces can be applied to an inanimate object to pull or push it in a given direction.  (Yes, even dead things can be picked up and carried from one place to another.)  And, in some cases, activity can be produced by an internal, but artificial, source, such as a battery.  So there would have to be additional lessons in order to illustrate the surprising fact that movement and activity are not evidence of life.  Wow, what a lesson for me today!  As I sit here, I am stirred by these words that are echoing in my spirit:  Life-like is not the same as alive.  As I sit here, I am being challenged to apply the “living vs. non-living” test to some things in which I have been investing my time, my heart, my mind, and my energy.  On one hand, I know I have grown in my ability to discern the dead things in my life.  I can better recognize that which is being dragged, driven or otherwise manipulated.  But dead weight is so heavy.  Rather than celebrating my genius at discovering one way after another to rig a dead horse to make it go, I now rejoice at having gained wisdom of when to dismount.  Still, I acknowledge that I have more growing to do.  I confess that there remain secret places in my heart and mind, places that may only be accessed by authorized persons (i.e., God and me). In those secret places, there are some things I have been stubbornly keeping on mental and emotional life support.  But it’s time to show some respect for the dead.  It’s time to show some respect for myself, too.  It’s time for me to let go.  It is time to allow myself to be free.  Then I can give myself wholly to those things which manifest the authentic energy and growth that emanate from real life…to the living things that await me ahead.

About That Other "S" Word

This morning I am thinking about the conversation I had with one of my dearest, longtime friends a few nights ago.  We hadn’t spoken for several years, and it was so wonderful to reconnect.  We reminisced about days of our youth, especially the fun times we had jetting around in her little Volkswagen Beetle.  We shared what was happening in the lives of our children, and we gushed with adoration about our grandkids.  We laughed, reminisced, and gave thanks.  Eventually, we got around to talking about our current personal lives.  Not unexpectedly, perhaps inevitably, she brought up that “s” word when she asked, “Are you seeing anyone?”  Ah, how I hated hearing myself say it.  Again.  “No, I’m not seeing anyone.”  Being the kind-hearted and considerate person she is, she didn’t dwell on it.  We just went on to other subjects.  As the time began to dictate that our phone call should end, we kicked around the idea of having a summer reunion at the beach.  I am hoping, of course, that I’ll be seeing someone by then.  But the focus of my meditation today isn’t that I’m not seeing anybody.  The greater revelation here is that nobody is seeing me.  I’m talking about more than just being noticed, and it’s something much deeper than knowledge of what I look like.  Certainly I have had eyes undress me…and hands, as well.  Still, so far, it seems that no one has seen me!  I often imagine how it will be when I encounter that man who truly has eyes for me.  Yet, I feel as if I am somehow hidden in plain sight.  It occurs to me that this has actually been for my benefit.  Truth is, I first needed to learn how to see myself, because that special man is going to possess some insight of his own.  He will see, in me, something precious for which he has been searching.  I believe when he sees me, he will speak of what he sees with great clarity and with great favor.  His clarity will be evidence that he understands what he sees, and his favor will be evidence that he loves what he sees.  As a reward of his diligent seeking, he will be given access to treasures and wonders of my heart, mind and soul.  So today I lifted a new prayer to God, a simple one that had I had never before uttered:  “Let me be seen.”  Having made that petition, I will continue to move forward…without fanfare, but with faith.  And the result?  I will see.     

Unsubscribed

This morning I am thinking about the sudden barrage of unsolicited marketing messages I have received through my work email in recent weeks.  Myriad vendors of every sort are peddling their education-related products and services.  Well, I have been doing my job long enough to know that the timing of these emails is not at all coincidental.  It’s prime time for vendors to position themselves to be included in one or more of the budgets I manage.  This kind of marketing blitz might be effective, except for one thing.  My budgets are thoughtfully committed for specific program priorities and purposes that have already been determined.  Therefore, these emails present distractions for me rather than opportunities.  They are a nuisance, as I have to filter through them to get to the messages I really need and want to see.  So, I began deleting and blocking them.  It was a simple solution, or so I thought.  What I discovered is that a vendor might have me on several different mailing lists.  Blocking one of their emails did not prevent me from receiving additional emails offering the same or similar things.  Therefore, I took the more permanent step of unsubscribing from the source of the mailings.  Silly me, I thought just clicking on that “Unsubscribe” button would do the trick.  But, oh no!  In some cases, before receiving a confirmation that I was unsubscribed, I was presented with questions, like: “Are you sure?” “What’s your reason?” “Was this a mistake?”  After those questions, other options were presented to me, like: “I’ve changed my mind.  I would still like to receive emails,” or “You can re-subscribe by clicking here.”  There was even an option to “forward this to a friend.”  (Uh, not gonna happen.)  After clicking through all of those hoops, I would get a message such as: “Please save this email in the event you want to re-subscribe at a later date” or “This may take up to 10 days.”  No joke.  Certainly, this process of unsubscribing takes time and intention, but I have gained three wonderful insights about the metaphorical Inbox of my heart and mind. 

 

1.  Just like unwanted emails, there are distracting, unproductive thoughts that seem to bombard my heart and mind at the most critical times.  In particular, it seems to happen at those times when I find myself at the end of one significant life lesson and when I’m poised to enter into a new experience.   During such times, it is important that I remember my priorities and my purpose.  Fruitless thoughts and feelings may present themselves.  But when I know who I am and what I am about, I can quickly determine that “I’m not buying it!”  I can bring those thoughts captive and relegate them to Junk.

2.  Simply ignoring or trying to block out unproductive thoughts is only a temporary solution.  Some temptations and distractions will present themselves again and again in different ways.  Sometimes they are intended to appeal to my pride.  At other times, they target my insecurities.  Sometimes they play to the things I love, and other times they attempt to exploit the things I fear.  The permanent solution is to disconnect, or unsubscribe, from the source of such thinking.  In doing so, I free up more space in my heart and mind for the things I really need and want to see.

3.  Making a decision to unsubscribe from distracting, destructive thinking is sometimes only a first step.  I will be tempted to continue receiving and affirming thoughts and feelings that are not beneficial.  So, I have to be sure that I want to be free.  I have to be firmly resolved that this choice is not a mistake, and that I’m not going to change my mind.  Among other things, I’ve unsubscribed from thoughts of fear and rejection.  I’ve unsubscribed from thoughts of guilt and shame over issues that are covered by grace and mercy.  I’ve unsubscribed from thoughts of doubting God’s perfect, unfailing love for me.  I know that it takes diligence and repeated affirmation.  And I know that it takes time.  The results may not be immediate.  I guess it could take up to 10 days (or more).  But I know that a change is inevitable…a change that will bring me greater freedom and peace than I have ever known. 

Full Disclosure

This morning I am thinking about the brief, humorous interaction I had with a young student last week.  As his classmates made their way, single file toward me, I noticed him jumping up and down at the end of the line.  It was not unusual for that particular child.  I was delighted to be greeted with hugs from the children as they passed, and I could see my little friend at the end of the line with his arms extended in anticipation.  However, just before I got to him, he backed into a wall and covered his face with his hands.  I was surprised by his sudden retreat, but then he cupped his hands around his mouth, looked up at me, and said, “I farted.”  In his eyes, I could see embarrassment that I did not want him to own.  So I simply asked, “Well, do you feel better?”  He gave me an affirmative nod, and we shared a laugh before he skipped off to catch up with the others.  Oh, how that encounter reminds me of myself occasionally, when I approach my God in prayer.  There are times when I come filled with such faith and anticipation, but then I find myself suddenly withdrawing from the embrace of His grace.  It’s not because I’ve filled the place with flatulence.  At least not literally.  It’s that my mind is suddenly filled with things I’ve said, done, or felt that I believe will “stink up” our time of fellowship…things I feel I need to fully disclose.  So, I’ll start confessing my figurative farts, like:  “I really lost my temper.” “I was jealous.”  “I engaged in gossip.”  “I made negative judgments about someone (or something) I didn’t understand.” “I avoided doing what I knew I should because I was afraid.”  “I tried taking a cold shower, but  I’m going to need something stronger.”  I can imagine that, as I look up, He sees in my eyes guilt that He does not want me to own.  In His great mercy He affirms, “There is therefore now no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus.”  This word not only clears the air, but it fills the atmosphere with the sweet fragrance of His favor.  In this sacred space, He fully discloses that nothing…absolutely nothing…could ever separate me from His love.  And, as I meditate on this truth, I feel better.  Much better.                               

Up To Twelve Chickens

I am thinking about a recent story on the morning news that caught my attention.  It was a very brief piece about an ordinance that was passed in a neighboring county, permitting its local residents to own and keep up to twelve chickens in their yards.  For one thing, I was surprised that this story had actually made the morning news.  I figured it must have been important to someone.  But the thing that really amused me was the number of chickens.  I wondered:  Who set the limit at twelve chickens?  Who decided that twelve was okay, but thirteen was foul for fowl?  What specific fears or concerns were tied to the idea of people owning that thirteenth chicken?  And what would happen if one of the twelve chickens gave birth?  Which would have to go first…the chickens or the eggs?  I chuckled today, as I recalled that news story, but then I began to ponder the notion of other arbitrary limits.  Certainly there are laws and guidelines that are thoughtfully, purposefully crafted for people’s common well-being.  Yet there are other limitations that are subjective and random.  These kinds of limitations are usually tied to the perspective, preferences and prejudices of individuals.  Sometimes I am guilty of imposing them on others.  Sometimes they are imposed by others upon me.  And, honestly, sometimes I have imposed them upon myself.  But today I am having a bit of a celebration because I can see how I am continually outgrowing an “up to twelve chickens” type of mentality that has sometimes held me back.  The process of my growth in wisdom, faith, and freedom is fueled by daily, consistent meditation on Truth.  Among other things, there is this: “For with God, nothing shall be impossible.”  I love that!  It frees me from being caged in by the boundaries of my failures and fears.  It liberates me to believe and achieve up to...and beyond...all that I can ask or think.  Amen.