Whispers of Rest: 40 Days of God's Love to Revitalise Your Soul

A good friend has been challenging me lately... okay, for the last few years, to do something difficult. "Put yourself equal," she says.  Basically, give yourself the same priority as you give others.  In a world of constant moving and everything to do, stopping for the sake of yourself is considered a frivolous notion.  To many Christians it feels downright vain.  What Bonnie Gray is challenging us to do in this new release, Whispers of Rest, is to approach rest with a healthy perspective and she gives practical exercises to help.  It's not the humanistic (verging on narcissistic) "me time" movement some may think.  It's not about making yourself the center of the universe.  This book is rather a beautiful journey of taking time to discover who you really are in the presence of a loving God.

Called a "devotional detox," this 40-day exploration is all about creating space for your soul to breathe, and dare I say, heal.  Each day follows a pattern of reading, reflecting, and a time to pray and rest.  Although she shares a bit of her own story with each passing day, the focus is really on what God is saying through His Word and through taking time to just be with Him.  She challenges us with scripture that inspires application.  Her call to reflect has questions with the remaining page left with enough whitespace to jot down your own answers if you want.  Even if you like to keep a pristine book instead, this space provides a visual prompt to stop and really consider your answers before moving on.  For those that struggle to know how to pray, Gray provides help that correlates with the day's focus, while leaving room for you to speak your heart to God.

It is surprising how challenging this journey is, but Gray leads the way with ease.  God has gifted her with this message of rest and I suspect anyone who takes this 40-day journey seriously will find it to just the beginning.

Rejoice!

"Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice..."



One word:  Rejoice.  


This verse emphasizes this act of joy, calling us to take part always and again.



This year will be my year of rejoicing.


Hello, my name is...

I had already noticed the two men on their bicycles as they pulled up in front of the new shop I was entering.  It wasn't until we were about to pass through the automatic doors together that he turned and I saw who he was.  Instantly he flashed a smile of surprise.

I almost hadn't recognized him with solid weight filling out his frame even more than when I saw him eight months back, which was even then a year's clean distance from the skeletal home for drugs I had first encountered.  We were both beaming and shared a silent note of celebration for the dramatic change.

The man with him was his older son.  My friend pulled him forward and told him...

"This is Grace."

I chuckled and simply reminded him, "It's Holly."  He apologized through an embarrassed sigh and we quickly moved on.

He shared his how although he struggled still with other addictions, he and his girlfriend have remained clean.  Their new baby was already five months old, healthy and strong.

Throughout the conversation, he kept calling me "Grace."  Then catching himself, he'd shuffle around flustered words about being unable to call me anything else.

I could only laugh.  Trying to reassure him, I finally just said, "It's really okay.  Anyone who knows what grace is would be happy to be associated with it.  It's undeserved favor.  A love we cannot possibly deserve, but is given freely.  That's what Jesus did for you.  It's what the cross was all about."

I walked away thankful for the encounter, but also for the joy that comes with the practical reality of what the cross, and the resurrection, really means.

The hope we have through Christ's triumph is not solely a place in a glorious eternity,
              but it is also
                                     the joy of a new identity in the present. 

Because He conquered sin and death, He made a way for us to no longer be bound to them.  It is His finished work that has transformed us from sinner to saint.  His finished work alone.  I know we are still not perfect, that we still struggle.  However, the difference is that those failures are no longer the defining factors for who we are.

He has given us a new identity.  A new name.  His.

      For now we are all children of God through faith in Jesus Christ, and we who have been baptized into union with Christ are enveloped by him.  
      We are no longer Jews or Greeks or slaves or free men or even merely men or women, but we are all the same—
                               we are Christians; we are one in Christ Jesus. 
                                                                                     -- Galatians 3:26-28

I've been to several different conferences where, at some point, we would examine the cross and consider what He has done, how He has changed everything. 

Next we blindly chose a name tag out of a basket, prepared with names God has described to describe His people in His word.

Every time, no matter where or when, at a different conference or even in a different country, I've always drawn the same word, "Overcomer."  It's significant to me.  Truth be told, I don't always feel like I'm overcoming the situations I face.  And in that truth I can say I absolutely cannot overcome on my own.

       And I heard a loud voice saying in heaven, Now is come salvation, and strength, and the kingdom of our God, and the power of his Christ: for the accuser of our brethren is cast down, which accused them before our God day and night.
        And they overcame him by the blood of the Lamb, and by the word of their testimony; and they loved not their lives unto the death. 
                                                      -- Revelation 12:10-11

I am an overcomer because of what He has done.  I will continue to testify of Him and His greatness.  I choose His life over mine.  And in this surrender, I have new life.

When we surrender our own identity, leaving pride and ego at the cross, and moving in the victory of life anew, that's when others can see Him. They see the evidence of the resurrected Christ, the hope of glory.

My friend had seen Grace.  It's an identity to which I don't always feel I live up, and in my own flesh, I certainly can't be Grace.  It's evidence of Him in me.  It's identifying with Him.

Are you feeling bound to your old self?  Ask God who you really are through Christ.

• Have you been rejected?  God calls you "Accepted."  
• Have you been cast aside?  God calls you "His Beloved."  
• Have you felt worthless?  God calls you "Valuable."
• Have you felt damaged?  God calls you "Restored."
• Have you felt condemned?  God calls you "Righteous."
• Have you felt unredeemable?

God calls you redeemed!

As we celebrate the victory of His resurrection, let us choose to live in the identity He has conquered death for us to have.

Who does He say you are?

I'm keeping it real and serving it fresh today with Bonnie and others at Faith Barista.

Hunger Pains

"I'm hungry,"  I would say, coming in from playing outside with my sister. I would be remembering that last spoonful of mint chocolate chip stashed toward the back of the freezer, or be wondering if there was enough milk for a bowl of honey nut cheerios...

I hoped my dad would keep it simple and tell me to just find something from the kitchen.

But... without even blinking, my dad would say, "Fix yourself a peanut butter sandwich."

Ugh.

In our family I was the only one who seemed to lament that red five gallon can of Peter Pan Extra Crunchy sitting on the top of the fridge. Between every day school lunches and regular snacks of the spread with crackers or celery, never 'creamy' mind you, I couldn't have imagined a more unpleasant prospect.

 "But I don't want a peanut butter sandwich," I'd say back, hoping some mercy would provide another alternative. His response was always resolute.

"Then you're not really hungry." 

A pastor friend once described hunger as one of those qualities that, if expressed in our lives, would undoubtedly open a door to experience the intensity of God's spirit in a profoundly deeper way.

It's something we sing about.  It's something we pray for.
But sometimes I wonder if we knew what hunger truly meant,
                                would we really be...

are we really hungry?

     So Jesus said to them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day. For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him.  
     As the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever feeds on me, he also will live because of me.
     This is the bread that came down from heaven, not like the bread the fathers ate, and died. Whoever feeds on this bread will live forever.” 
                                                                      -- John 6:53-58

 The disciples concluded that this was a hard word.  It's hard even now.  We want to tell people the meaning without saying the words.  We grumble about what He said, how He said it, how we think it would be better... looking for a way we can be satisfied.  

Many disciples that had journeyed with Him for so long left Him.  The answer was not what they were hoping.

Many of us neglect going deeper, because the answer is not the one we want.  It's not the sweet creamy treat we have in mind.  It's not even an unappealing, but somehow more palatable smooth version of the only option.  We cry out that we are hungry, but we choose to starve, even though a feast has been laid out before us.

Because the spread that really satisfies 

involves suffering, brokenness and death.

     Now as they were eating, Jesus took bread, and after blessing it broke it and gave it to the disciples, and said, “Take, eat; this is my body.”  
     And he took a cup, and when he had given thanks he gave it to them, saying, “Drink of it, all of you, for this is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.  
                                                                                -- Matt 26:26-28

I imagine the twelve in the Upper Room that night.  Lounging together, they would remember with unleavened bread and full cups of wine.  They recalled the Exodus.  They shared in a feast remembering the joy of deliverance with all the solemness of leaving everything behind. 

When we partake of the bread and wine, we acknowledge the fullness of what it means to be broken. His body, broken... so we may live.  His blood spilled... so we may be forgiven. 
  
We are His body now.  Are we hungry enough for His Kingdom come on earth as it is in Heaven to die to ourselves?  To love without hesitation or reservation?  To give of generously ourselves regardless of the cost?  To leave everything behind?

Are we willing to be broken?

Sometimes I think we can be so frightened by the word "suffering" when we talk of "sharing in His sufferings" that we miss the biggest implication...

Sharing means we are with Him in it.

                                                  Let that sink in.

                                                                          We are "with Him."

We are "with Him" in our suffering, brokenness, and death to ourselves.  And because we are with Him, we also find comfort (2 Cor 1:5).  We find hope.  We find life.

There is no suffering bigger than Christ.  There is no enemy stronger than Christ.

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;
you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
                                                                               -- Psalm 23:5

He has promised us a feast, and He has delivered.  But that feast is His body... broken.

This is the feast laid before us. It is full with bitter herbs and maror.  It brings about tears as well as laughter.  But it is the one feast that brings true deliverance from all enemies.

It is the victory of His love.  

                          Are we hungry enough to eat of it?

to not just nibble, but banquet upon it?

Am I?   Are you?

I'm keeping it fresh and keeping it real with Bonnie and others over at Faith Barista.

To Live Again

It only makes sense that my first post in bringing this blog back to life would be about dying.
It's been running through me for a few months now.

Somber, serious...
          Yes, it's been a deeply personal journey, but it's journeying with destination

and at the end of the road stands a cross.

The cross was a form of Roman execution outside the parameters of Jewish law because of its atrocity.  Even amongst the Romans, it was reserved for the worst of the worst.  It involved shame, humiliation and torture.  It was meant for people who were deemed as having no redeemable value.

Then Jesus told his disciples,  
               “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.  For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. 
                                                                      -- Matthew 16:24-25

Even before He walked the road Himself, Jesus knew what true life cost.  
                             And He invited us to live.
                                                                            By dying.

In the Garden of Gethsemene, twice Jesus shows us what this means.  Twice He surrenders His will to the will of the Father.  In the very garden whose name means "oil press", we witness Jesus surrender His own flesh to be battered and crushed, so the work of the Spirit may be poured out.

As a result of this surrender, He was shamed, humiliated and tortured.  He was deemed irredeemable by the masses lest He prove Himself otherwise.

He didn't try to prove Himself.  He didn't try to explain.  He didn't shout out threats of judgement or promises of His return.  Not in that moment.  In that moment, He gave up hold of any last thread of repute. 

He endured in the confidence of His obedience.  He forgave.

                       He told us to take up our cross

                                                                     and follow...

We can sanitize His death with nice metaphors and treat surrender like it's simply an emotion that makes us feel holier, or that it's something we pray will passively happen to us.  However, Jesus showed quite graphically that surrender is an action we must take.  It's a soldier surrendering arms and any attempt to defend one's self, giving oneself completely in the care of the ruling authority.

Surrender is painful because we are giving up our rights, our complaints, and our desires.  We are saying that His ideas are worth letting ours die.  It is in effect, our last will and testament.

Jesus carried His cross down the Via Dolorosa, the way of pain.  But His footsteps didn't stop there because the suffering alone wasn't the point.  

His journey had a destination.  

He carried His cross all the way to Golgatha.  Only with death could there be resurrection.

And now, I am called to follow.
Am I willing 
              to let God show me what part of myself I've been hanging onto for too long...
                                                                                                                                 and let it die?
Are you?

Knowing full well it means:

• giving up the need to be justified, proven or vindicated
• forgiving the one who hurt you the most
• letting go of control
• taking time to talk to the one on the bus beside you when all you want is to sleep
• holding your tongue from speaking slander and gossip
• initiating conversation even though you're the introvert
• just listening instead of having to have the answer
• looking at the people around you, believers and unbelievers alike, through eyes of grace
• asking God's opinion on matters
• giving up your reputation for obedience

If we are really willing to let these things die, we need to stop feeding them under the table and hoping they just go away.  We have to choose to trust that He can handle it, that He can carry us.  We have to be willing to carry them all the way to the cross
                                          and leave them there
                                                                                with Jesus.

It's only in that death that resurrection can come in us.  
And in that, we accept His invitation to become more and more of the person He created us to be.  

In that, we find ourselves truly living.

I'm keeping it fresh and keeping it real with Bonnie and others over at Faith Barista.

The Impact of a Drop

When Jesus looked up and saw a great crowd coming toward him, he said to Philip, “Where shall we buy bread for these people to eat?” He asked this only to test him, for he already had in mind what he was going to do.

Philip answered him, “It would take more than half a year’s wages to buy enough bread for each one to have a bite!”

Another of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, spoke up, “Here is a boy with five small barley loaves and two small fish, but how far will they go among so many?” 

                                                               -- John 6:5-9

The people were hungry.  The disciples were dumbfounded.  A small boy offered his lunch.  In today's world, we are too often like the disciples who look at small acts and scoff, looking at the contribution and analyzing the details.  We end up doing nothing since we can't see how it could possibly make any impact.  Why put forth the effort if it won't make a difference?  It's just a drop in the ocean.

Even though Jesus had just been doing all kinds of miraculous stuff that day through His compassion and healing touch, the disciples somehow forgot about His power when considering those basic things, like hunger.  How often do we do the same?   We must be willing to do those small acts believing they will make an impact

        -- not because the act itself is great, 

                        but rather the God who works in it.  

The truth is that it doesn't even cost that much a lot of times.  For the boy, it was one lunch out of a lifetime.  For us, it could be that card, a shared afternoon over coffee, or even just a joke at the post office counter to get that one teller to smile.  Yes, we must be willing to obey God in doing those things that could cost us everything, that's a part of our surrender.  But let us also be intentional with the small everyday things too, recognizing God's role in these simple acts of faith.   Let us live deliberately with the love of Christ and believe God can do the miraculous.  He just might surprise us with the magnitude in the process.  Afterall, a simple drop, weighted with the power of God can create quite the ripple effect, transforming the whole surface of the water and affecting everything in it's path.

Jesus said, “Have the people sit down.” There was plenty of grass in that place, and they sat down (about five thousand men were there).  Jesus then took the loaves, gave thanks, and distributed to those who were seated as much as they wanted. He did the same with the fish.

When they had all had enough to eat, he said to his disciples, “Gather the pieces that are left over. Let nothing be wasted.”  So they gathered them and filled twelve baskets with the pieces of the five barley loaves left over by those who had eaten.

After the people saw the sign Jesus performed, they began to say, “Surely this is the Prophet who is to come into the world.”

                                                                 -- John 6:10-14

Today, I am challenging you to think of simple ways you can live and act in faith. 
There is a world hungry for hope.  What will you do?

For more about simple acts of faith, visit Bonnie at Faith Barista.

But God...

Today's story began feeling impossible, but God... 

I have been on a particular faith journey for a while now with a specific issue. Through prayer and perseverance, I have found myself encouraged and confident, walking in full faith.  As the time for resolution merges with the present however, I have found myself susceptible to shakiness, tripping over random potholes of doubt.  I knew this morning would be a critical point in this process, so I had been asking God how to really enact the faith I have in Him.  Without realizing that God was answering my prayer, I awoke overwhelmed with memories of Africa.

I remembered feeling strangled by the wireless lines of countless phone calls at every hour of the day and night, between officials and families, and never with any real news to report.  I remembered the heat from tears that burned my cheeks into a pink mess, mimicking the affects of the equatorial sun.  I remembered the government offices where the necessary stamps were slammed so hard they scarred my consciousness.  But I also remembered the conversations I had out loud with God.  They were desperate hours that left me broken and raw, but still convinced that God would deliver.  Faith was all I had.

No distrust made him waver concerning the promise of God, but he grew strong in his faith 

as he gave glory to God, fully convinced 
that God was able to do what he had promised. 

-- Romans 4:20-21

All the signs pointed to impossible, but God...

God did deliver.  Despite the pain in each of those memories, they came this morning simultaneously with their resolution as I remembered the miraculous ways God placed the children into families.  Despite the sorrow, the memories arrived with the joy of completeness.  Despite the trauma incurred, they resounded with triumph.  God's triumph. With this onslaught of images, God was giving me an emotional reminder of His faithfulness.

Abraham believe God and it was credited to him as righteousness.  He was absolutely convinced of God's ability.  He was looking at God and His nature and not the circumstances of his perceived reality.  God wants us to trust and obey, without worrying about the how and simply persevering in faith, taking God at His word.

Now I still have yet to arrive at the destination of my journey with my particular issue, but God...

God has reminded me of His nature.  My day has been a choice to focus on Him.  He is with me in this and He has paved the way so I don't have to fear.  He is the way, the truth and the light.  He is faithful.

By referencing Abraham, Paul not only encouraged the Romans, but taught us the value of sharing our faith journeys with each other.  They remind us all of the possible nature of God.  Let's build our faith together and share! The glory is His.

For more encouragement, visit Bonnie over at Faith Barista 

where we are keeping it fresh and keeping it real.

The Secret of Catch

When I was young, we had one of those standard family station wagons that marked the suburban landscape of the early 80's, even though ours stayed out in the country with us.  It was powder blue and on long trips, my sister and I would put the backseat down and use the stretch of the hatchback as our fort.  It was there we played games, read books and eventually fell asleep under blankets like our own moving hotel while dad and mom sat in the front.  We called it the Blue Bomber.

I mention it today because as I was remembering my father, and though there is so much to tell about this man some other time, I was struck by one memory of game dad often played with us while he drove that vehicle.  When mom wasn't occupying the passenger seat, my sister and I would pile in that space and whoever sat next to daddy would inevitably end up playing "catch the hand."  In essence, my father would put out his non-driving hand palm-up and we would try to tap the center and pull back without him catching our hand.  Then we'd switch.  He might have said it was some speed challenge from some Bruce Lee flick, but for me it was a chance to just have fun with dad.  The thing was, he always seemed to catch my hand and yet when we switched I couldn't seem to catch him.  I just assumed I was too small, too slow.  I didn't know his secret.

As the Bomber got older, the fabric covering the ceiling panel began to sag, making large upside down bubbles of baby blue felt that fell perfectly onto my tall father's head.  One day he was so frustrated, he pulled the whole thing off in one complete sheet.  The secret behind the puffy blue interior that had been my sister's and my sky when we lay back on those long journeys was revealed.  The newly exposed moss colored foam coating was a real tangible thing.  No longer a secret, it marked our hair with small bits of fuzz every time we got in or out of the car.  Some bits were so small, they stuck like dust to our foreheads and arms, a visible reminder of where we had been.

As I got older, I learned that there was no speed magic in my father's hand either.  His secret was just as tangible.  I remember the day I saw the action for how it really was.  I went to tap my father's palm, and I noticed that his hand was already reaching up toward mine, shortening the distance and assuring the capture and the giggles. 

Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you.  

--James 4:8a

Despite my father's human failings, as a child I simply knew him to be someone I wanted to be around.  I felt safe when I was with him.  It was in that security that I knew I was loved.  

God the Father loves without failing and in Him we find ultimate security.  It is out of this love and mercy that God is constantly drawing us toward Himself.  So whether confident or nervous, when we take that step toward Him, we can be assured  He has already closed the gap to receive us.

The story of the prodigal son tells us that while the son was still a long way off,  the father saw him and came running, embracing him (Luke 15:11-32).  Isn't this the nature of our God!  Instead of a hand, He captures our heart; instead of giggles, He gives us a wellspring of joy.  We become marked with the dust of His grace, evidence to those around us of where we have been.  We have been with our Father.