Holding My Breath

It’s summertime, which for me conjures up memories of being at the “Lake House” with my cousins, perpetually in a wet swim suit, rarely out of the lake.  One of the many games we would play was “who-can-hold-their-breath-longest-without-dying”.

Ok, it wasn’t a real active game, but you know…simple pleasures.  And nobody actually died so our parents considered it a win.

Sometimes, as adults, without even thinking about it, we play life like the  “who-can-hold-their-breath-longest-without-dying” game.

When I started running, I became much more aware of the importance of rhythm and rest, and basics. Like breathing.  And not holding our breath til we, you know, pass out.

This is not about Sabbath, but Selah. Selah is a term used mostly in the Psalms and a few times in Habbakuk that is a bit of a mystery.  Scholars aren’t positive what it means, but they think it means “rest” or “pause”.

Mark Batterson says, like in music, if Sabbath is a full rest, maybe Selah is a sixteenth rest.  A chance to catch your breath.

Or maybe Selah is the life jacket that helps us pop up above the water of everyday stress.

If, as Eugene Peterson says, Sabbath is a day of “shutting down and shutting up.” maybe Selah moments are those in your day where you stop to think about breathing.  Reorient, and remember that you’re not in control, but you know the One who is.

Selfies and Three Alternatives

Selfie: A photograph that one has taken of oneself, typically with a smartphone or webcam and uploaded to a social media website.”

A friend of ours, Renee Stearns, included a great insight in their Christmas letter this year.  She wrote this about selfies: “Taken from a vantage point only as long as arms-length, it’s sometimes too close to make sense of what’s going on in the picture.  The perspective is somehow off.”

So much of what is on social media is small and distorted – what we want others to see and believe, or the worst that someone else has discovered and exposed.

When it’s a profile picture, or a fb post, or one mistake, or a Tweet, it’s just 144 characters, or the shot of one moment.  Behind each is another story, a larger picture of lives being transformed by God’s grace.

Journalling is one practice that can help us correct the distortion of selfless.  I journal in the form of a daily dialogue with God – reviewing the previous day (which often involves confession and praise) and praying through the coming day’s activities.

The last week of each year, John and I take time to read back through our journals for the year and look for themes, lessons, failures and signs of growth.

I know, I know.  Some of you are yelling at the computer screen “Leave me alone!!  Stop guilting me!  I’m not a %$#@* journaller!”

If the idea of keeping a traditional journal makes you want to run screaming into the night, may I suggest 3 alternatives?

1.  Gratitude journal.  Just keep a running list of the gifts of each day. It’s short.  It’s painless and physically writing them down a practice that has made a huge difference in my attitude. I keep this in addition to my regular journal. The way to give thanks in all things is to notice each small thing.

2.  One Line a Day journal.  Summarize or record one highlight a day for five years and look back at the entries from year’s before. All you have to do is write a sentence a day.  Maggie and her husband Austin also found one that has a question each day and one line for each of them to respond on.

3.  Once a year journal.  In it write the highlights of the previous year, and your hopes and dreams for the new year.  I know one couple that does this together on their wedding anniversary each year.  Together they read the previous year’s entry and each person writes their reflections for the current year.

“Our years come to an end like a sigh . . . ” says Psalm 90, “so teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom”.

Just a handful of the barest facts can be enough to rescue an entire day from oblivion—not just what happened in it, but who we were when it happened. Who the others were. What it felt like back then to be us.  Fredrick Boechner

What alternatives can you think of that help you with perspective?  What helps you be more self/God/and others aware?

Sitting with Dirty Hands

As I write this it’s 10 p.m.  I’m in Lusaka, Zambia, sitting outside with John at our hotel trying to take in the day.  There’s a small alligator in the hotel pond next to us and a gigantic cock roach who keeps coming around our feet, but we’re trying to ignore them and pay attention to other things.

Paying attention is a big deal any day of the week for me, but even more so on these trips.  And so, as a group we’re trying to do a version of the Examen each evening, looking for the places we’ve failed to cooperate with God in His goodness, and the places we’ve been present to Him, partnering with Him in His work.

Frankly, it’s darn easy to be present to…me.  My comfort, my will, my convenience, my agenda…But pay attention to Jesus?  Not so much.

And then you add in a team of folks you’re just getting to know and visits everyday with desperately poor but faithful people in another culture?  It’s kind of like playing one of those video games where you’re a race car driver and on the screen you see all these lights and images rushing at you as you try to steer the vehicle.

Notice What You Notice

This is Maggie, our delightful, 25 year old who just got married and is preparing to move from D.C. cross-country with her husband to start grad school at Berkeley.  

One of her mentors, Brooke Toftoy, introduced our church to Holy Yoga which is “experiential worship created to deepen people’s connection to Christ.”  Maggie loves Yoga, so the morning before her wedding she asked Brooke to lead the bridesmaids in this practice.  Although there’s only “regular” yoga in D.C she still loves it. I asked Maggie to guest post today, because although I may be biased, I think she’s amazing!

One of my favorite yoga instructors invites us into an interesting practice.  Every so often, throughout the class, he will invite us into a resting position and ask us to “return to your breath, be still and notice.  Notice what you notice.”

“Notice what you notice,” he says.  So I lay there and I notice.  First I notice that the “resting pose” that he has instructed us to find is awfully pretzely and I want to have a few words with whoever dubbed it a “resting pose.”  I notice how sweaty I am.  I notice that it’s hot day and that in 24 minutes when class is over, it would be a good time for some froyo (I’ve obviously earned it, what with the sweat and the pretzel-y-ness.)

When I’m done mentally complaining, I start the practice of really noticing.  I notice that I feel pretty calm.  I notice that I’m really improving in that one difficult pose, and that makes me feel strong and accomplished.  I notice that this is the one quiet spot in my day and I soak it in.

Outside of yoga class, in regular old life,  I sometimes like to remind myself to notice what I notice.  I like being observant and tuning in.

Holding my Breath

It’s summertime, which for me conjures up memories of being at the Lake House with my cousins, perpetually in a wet swim suit, rarely out of the lake.  One of the many games we would play was “who-can-hold-their-breath-longest-without-dying”.

Ok, it wasn’t a real active game, but you know…simple pleasures.  And nobody actually died so our parents considered it a win.

Sometimes without even thinking about it, we play life like this  “who-can-hold-their-breath-longest-without-dying” game.

I don’t write much about Sabbath.  And I’ve never written about Selah.  But as I’ve started running, I’ve become much more aware of the importance of rhythm and rest, and basics. Like breathing.  And not holding our breath til we pass out.

Selah is a term used mostly in the Psalms and a few times in Habbakuk that is a bit of a mystery.  Scholars aren’t positive what it means, but they think it means “rest” or “pause”.

Mark Batterson says, like in music, if Sabbath is a full rest, maybe Selah is a sixteenth rest.  A chance to catch your breath.

Or maybe Selah is the life jacket that helps us pop up above the water of everyday stress.

If, as Eugene Peterson says, Sabbath is a day of “shutting down and shutting up.” maybe Selah moments are those in your day where you stop to think about breathing.  Reorient, and remember that you’re not in control, but you know the One who is.

Through history, some have been intentional about this by “praying the hours”.

But even if you don’t pray the hours, maybe Selah is a chance to

• Let go.  Unclench your hands and surrender to the one who is God since we are not.  I have to pray the Welcoming Prayer as a reminder to myself:  “Holy Spirit, I let go of my need for approval.  Welcome.  I let go of my need for power and control.  Welcome.  I let go of my need to change any person, circumstance or emotion.  Welcome.”
• Look. “Look at the birds of the air…” Pay attention to the miracles all around.   I’m trying to be disciplined in stopping, standing still outside and looking around, praying:  “Creator God, thank you for…”

• Listen.  Our speaking comes out of our listening.  What we say comes out of what we hear.  We can pray: “Lord, what do you have to say to me about Yourself and myself today?”  Listen to words about God’s character in Psalm 46 where Selah is written in the margin in most translations after verse 3.

Mark Buchanan put it this way: When we don’t rest we’re in danger of letting ourselves be “consumed by the things that feed the ego but starve the soul.”

Stopping to breathe in the goodness and sufficiency of God gives oxygen to our souls.

Selah.

You don’t have to hold your breath all day.  Consider setting an alarm on your phone to remind you to stop and breathe.

What does Selah look like for you?

Invitations and the Three Things You Need

I’m not that person.  I’m not the sell-everything-move-to-the-slums-of-Calcutta-like-Mother-Theresa person.  That’s not the invitation I’ve sensed from God.  Yet.

I’m an ordinary girl trying to follow Jesus where He’s put me and getting it wrong a lot.

But if there’s one passion I have, it’s responding to the invitations God extends, as crazy as they might seem in my ordinary world.

The thing is these invitations rarely arrive in a giant Oscar-like envelope with a red seal screaming “THIS IS IMPORTANT!  PAY ATTENTION!”

We long for invitation, but sometimes we have to lean close because the invitation is a whisper not a shout.

Recently, Bob Goff wrote,

“Jesus won’t try to speak over the noise in our lives; love whispers so we won’t be confused about who’s doing the talking.”

Sometimes it’s a whispered invitation to stop.  And do something you’ve never done before.  Something a tiny bit scary, or uncomfortable, or potentially embarrassing.

The whispered invitation may come right in your cramped apartment, or in your dysfunctional family, or on the road to work.

The invitation might look like a Jamaican cleaning woman stranded on the side of the road needing a ride,

or an injustice that begs for a note to your congressperson,

or a kid who could use a mentor or a meal.

The other day I saw a friend of mine who responded to the quiet invitation from God to take her aging parent for a delightful afternoon tea out, giving her mom loving attention and a listening ear no matter how confused she got.

Here’s the thing though.  I believe three ingredients are needed if you’re going to respond to these gentle, holy invitations.

An eye, an ear, an hour.

An eye for those in need, an ear attuned to the whispered prompts of God, and the time to respond.

I guess maybe the fourth thing that is needed is a willingness to actually do the work of responding, but the element that I think is most often missing in our lives, the thing that prevents us from responding to God’s invitations, is lack of margin.

A mentor of mine always said, “If you’re too busy to take a pot of soup to someone in need, you’re too busy.”

I know, I know…in some seasons margin is beyond our control.  And maybe the person in need is you.  You’re the perpetual care-giver who, like Elijah after an intense season, needs to respond to the whispered invitation for a snack and a nap.*

Then do that.  Pray. Rest.  Replenish.

But whether God whispers an invitation to be part of some kingdom work, or kingdom rest today, which element is most likely to get in the way of you responding?  An eye to see the needs, an ear to heaven, the guts to respond, or the time to do it?

God, show me where You want to work today, and invite me to be a part of it.  I’m trying to pay attention.

*1st Kings 19

What Do You Do New Year’s Eve Morning?

New Year’s Eve morning is a quiet one at Starbucks.  We’re reading backwards.

Every year, during the week between Christmas and New Year’s day, my husband John and I make a practice of reading back over our journals from the past year.  As we do we try to pay attention to themes that God might be impressing on us.  We look for holy moments of His faithfulness to be thankful for, and answered prayer.  We try to read between the lines for blind spots we may be missing.

This is kind of like doing a yearly Examen.  Looking for the activity of God.  I’ve shared before that I’m spiritually ADD.  If I don’t make a discipline of paying attention, I’m like the spacey traveler who perpetually makes a wrong turn and all of a sudden looks around wondering how they got where they are.

Looking for Life and Death and Maybe Jesus

I’m taking a little August sabbatical.  I pray you’ll be blessed by a repost from last year on a Spirit Stretch Friday…

A few weeks ago I wrote about the Communion Debacle our daughters experienced at church.  It made me think about how hard it can be to truly enter into this sacrament and be present to God in the moment…reflecting on His grace and our sin.

Frankly, it’s darn easy to be present to…me.  My comfort, my will, my convenience, my agenda…But Jesus?  Not so much.  Are you with me?

“And NO Phone!”

So this week is Media week for our little Summer of 7 band of intrepid women.  We’re trying an experimental mutiny against excess in order to get a better perspective on kingdom living.  You can read about our adventures here, and here.

As we planned our media strategy Monday night, Theresa bemoaned missing out on the details of the “TomKat” break-up,  and Cathy has been temporarily disowned by her family in favor of t.v.  Heather anticipated withdrawal symptoms as a Pinterholic.

Our biggest fear though, was that we’d feel cut off from community.  We envisioned showing up at each other’s houses, peering through the window like orphans in a Dicken’s novel, pathetically saying “Please talk to me!!!”

Personally I decided to go without my phone for the week, which I think must earn me brownie points somewhere in the universe because this is sacrificial, darn it!

Hunting Caterpillars

Hunting caterpillars with my daughters – Heather H.                                                            Last ride on the Ferris Wheel – Mary Jo S.                                                                                   A goodnight text – Katie M.                                                                                                         Swan Lake performed by a 7 year old in a tutu. Nanisa S.                                                 Stomping through puddles – Dana F.

I always love reading the answers to “What do you stay awake for?” at Caribou.  They move me and remind me of how important it is to stop.  And pay attention.  And be present to the wonder that’s right in front of me.

Like a snuggle with my girls when they were toddlers and nothing else could possibly be more important…not the news of Clinton’s affair, or the war in the Gulf, or the latest development between Ross and Rachel on Friends.

The distractions are different now, but they’re still there…the things that threaten to keep me from missing my real life.  And missing the wonder of God’s good gifts.

Now my babies are grown and I come back to the town where we grew up together.  Where we delighted in walks around the wetlands and seeing the baby goslings each spring, and watching them turn into awkward ugly teenager geese.

Where we measured and marked the girls’ height each year on a wall in the basement and we marveled at all the other things that couldn’t be measured, like hope and character, and faith.

A friend of mine says, “I want to be counted among those easily impressed.”  I agree.  I want to be awake to wonder and live a life marked with gratitude.

So, today, I guess I’m thinking about turning off, well, everything…and paying attention to the sun on my face, and giving gentle and strong hugs and really seeing and being thankful for the dewy green shoots pushing through the winter earth,  and making sure those I love know it.

Consider getting on your knees tonight and reviewing your day with thanksgiving.  And then maybe send someone a good-night text. 🙂

What wonders are you noticing?  What are you grateful for today?