Midweek: Step Eleven

Now when Daniel knew that the writing was signed, he went home. And in his upper room, with his windows open toward Jerusalem, he knelt down on his knees three times that day, and prayed and gave thanks before his God, as was his custom since early days.

~ Daniel 6:10

Long story short, Daniel had enemies. And they were trying to get him busted by the king. So, Daniel's enemies convinced the king to sign a decree prohibiting petition to any other authority but the king himself; that, of course, included prayer to God. Daniel clearly knew of the decree, but he would not allow that to stop him from praying to the One True God. Prayer was to him as eating is to us --three times daily (not including snacks). It was his sustenance and, for optimal health, should be ours as well. 

That's what Step Eleven says. From Walking the Twelve Steps with Jesus Christ:

I seek through prayer and meditation to improve my conscious contact with God as I understand Him, praying only for His will for me and the power to carry it out.

By improving our conscious contact with God throughout the day, we find the meat, the nutrients, the sustenance, the rest we require to handle life in the best possible way; in the way in which we were created to handle life.

We developed some bad habits. We sought to "do life" in a way other than the way our Owner's Manual (the Holy Bible) recommended. (And, I say "recommended" not because there is a better or equally efficient way, but because we choose; God admonishes, but we choose.) Connecting to God through prayer and meditation throughout the day, seeking His will as revealed in Scripture and through His Holy Spirit's intervention, receiving the power to obey --that is how we shed those old patterns of coping, and develop the ones we were always meant to use; the optimal means of doing life in this world, bringing glory to our Lord and remaining under His grace.

Grace is the very thing that empowers us to obey. Grace is often defined as "unmerited favor," and that is true. But what does that mean, and how do we respond? Well, if you think of it as God giving you what you don't deserve, what you have not earned, you might respond with gratitude. That gratitude might then lead you to want to obey, to do something "in return" for God's grace on your life. None of that is wrong. But when we're talking about lifelong patterns of bad or insufficient behaviors, things we have implemented our entire life to numb the pain or avoid confrontation or, perhaps, draw attention to ourselves that someone might rescue us from our own bad choices --when we're talking about those sorts of things, grace as I've defined it above can appear inadequate. Dallas Willard defined grace as God working in our lives to do what we cannot do on our own. That was a game changer for me. There is strength in that. There is assurance in that. God's grace is not simply pouring out favor in the form of a beautiful sunset or a smile from our grandchild; it is not only a sudden healing that leaves us feeling blessed and overwhelmingly appreciative. It is "When I don't have the strength to obey, You fortify me as I draw close to You." God's grace is mighty, mighty, mighty! The power to carry it out. Yes, it is intimate; yes, it is special. But God's grace is fashioned especially for each one of His children, specific to our needs and greater than we can imagine. As we pray and meditate on Scripture, we move ourselves into position to feel His presence, hear His voice, and receive His grace. Like stepping under the porch roof to get out of the rain, we draw near to Him and are safe from the torrents and temptations of life in a fallen world. Scripture reveals a new path, the right path; prayer connects us to the One who loves us beyond measure and will walk each step beside us, empowering us by His grace. 

What You See Is What You Get

One of the first things I noticed about our youngest was his incredible imagination: he can develop a story like no other! In his tales, the impossible becomes possible, the unbelievable becomes believable, and the unlikely becomes almost anticipated. It is a blessed gift to have childlike wonder residing right here in our home!

Annie Dillard, in her thoughtful narrative, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, hits on this childishness in a way that causes me to crave that innocence in myself again:   

When I was six or seven years old, growing up in Pittsburgh, I used to take a precious penny of my own and hide it for someone else to find. It was a curious compulsion; sadly, I’ve never been seized by it since. For some reason, I always “hid” the penny along the same stretch of sidewalk up the street. I would cradle it at the roots of a sycamore, say, or in a hole left by a chipped-off piece of sidewalk. Then I would take a piece of chalk, and, starting at either end of the block, draw huge arrows leading up to the penny from both directions.

After I learned to write I labeled the arrows: SURPRISE AHEAD or MONEY THIS WAY. I was greatly excited, during all this arrow-drawing, at the thought of the first lucky passer-by who would receive in this way, regardless of merit, a free gift from the universe. But I never lurked about. I would go straight home and not give the matter another thought, until, some months later, I would be gripped again by the impulse to hide another penny.

The world is fairly studded and strewn with pennies cast broadside from a generous hand. But — and this is the point — who gets excited by a mere penny?

...if you cultivate a healthy poverty and simplicity, so that finding a penny will literally make your day, then, since the world is in fact planted in pennies, you have with your poverty bought a lifetime of days. It is that simple. What you see is what you get.

And isn't that just the truth of it? What you are willing to see is what you get. I once heard someone say, Those who place everything in God's hand will see God's hand in everything. What keeps us seeing the goodness of God in the everyday and the mundane, or catching our breath at the same Autumn colors bedecking the same tree in our same backyard every year; what keeps us seeing the newness of the spouse God has given us or the places He has called us to live for forty-seven of our fifty years; what keeps us grateful is seeing, and what keeps us seeing is poverty. The willingness to acknowledge there are things much greater than us and our full schedules. The willingness to remain small and poor and humble, and to know that God is big and rich and glorious. The willingness to see that the life He has granted you is a life given to no other human being on earth; the sunsets you have watched, the smiles you've returned, the last moments of a faithful and furry friend you have been permitted, the first cries you have heard --they have all been for you and you alone. Given you by a God who is writing your story as carefully as you wrapped that shawl around the shoulders of the sister with cancer. Gently, tenderly, and sometimes intensely with loving correction in mind, God has fashioned this life for you and each morning presented you with the mercies and opportunities you require for the day. Your life is as unique as you are, and perfect for you. 

Let us, with the wonder and innocence of trusting children, see all You have crafted for us, and never be ungrateful again.

The Importance of Punctuation

Have you ever seen those memes about the importance of punctuation? Here's one:

Silly, right? Well, punctuation in our lives is pretty important as well. For instance, the latter part of 2 Corinthians 6:2:

Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation.

I'm not questioning the editors, necessarily, but living our lives, talking to others about Jesus as though that sentence ends with an exclamation point, experiencing the urgency of those words is not a bad idea at all.

Likewise, Ann Voskamp, in her book One Thousand Gifts talks about the beliefs we live after tragedy:

No, God.
No God.

How far is the transition, the fall, if you will, from No, say it isn't so, to God is not so? God is not good. God is not merciful. God is not all-powerful. God is not. In grammar, it's the distance or the difference of a comma. A mere pause. In life it is similar but, more significantly, it's what occurs in that pause. It's what occurs as we begin to process the depths of our pain. It's what occurs as we emerge from the dull echo of shock to the razor-sharp screams of reality. It's what occurs when we start to grieve the dreams that will never be realized, the birthdays that will never be celebrated, the paths that will never be forged. It's what occurs when the grey dawn of the next day drives out the dark and we are forced to reckon with What next? What happens in that pause is critical to our beliefs, and beliefs are a matter of life and death.

In Deuteronomy 30:19, 20, God speaks to the people --His people --Israel:

I call heaven and earth as witnesses today against you, that I have set before you life and death, blessing and cursing; therefore choose life, that both you and your descendants may live; that you may love the Lord your God, that you may obey His voice, and that you may cling to Him, for He is your life and the length of your days;

He sets before them the ways that will prosper them, ways that will lead to life and flourishing. He also warns them that to disobey is to choose death. Think of an owner's manual, giving instruction on how to properly use, service, or even assemble a particular tool: Failure to follow the above instructions could lead to injury or death. You've read those words before. Did you heed them? "Well, sure," you might say. "I know nothing about this product!" Just because we inhabit these bodies doesn't mean we know anything about them. We seek the advice of "professionals" to help us when we're sick. Why? Because we are so not professionals when it comes to what's best for ourselves. Why do we think that when it comes to the things of the spirit world, we know it all? Why, when something traumatic occurs, do we not seek God in the pause? Why, when we lose someone or something we love, do we separate ourselves from --or worse --blame God as though He has no idea what loss is all about? Why do we not take that moment right after No, say it isn't so to declare, "But God You are, and though I am hanging on by a thread, I will hang here until You cut me loose"? Why do we not take that interruption and seek Him?

The pause will probably come --I pray for us all they do not --but it's what we do during the pause that is most important, a matter of life and death. 

Photo courtesy LuAnn Martin

Midweek: Step Ten

I am going to tell you something that might sound a little strange to you: I am always discovering what it means to be married. We will celebrate our eighteenth wedding anniversary this year (Lord willing) and yet Scott and I are always encountering new situations together --good and not so good; we're always finding new things out about one another's preferences or past experiences. And, as we age, we're always developing different habits --good and not so good, new hopes, revisiting dreams that were never realized (Is now the time?), and thinking of unique ways to enjoy each day in one another's company. We are living out this married life together --an objective very different from saying some words before a judge, carrying around a marriage license, or wearing a wedding band. (There is a reason those words are called vows, by the way.)

I continue to take personal inventory daily, and when I am wrong, I promptly admit it.

Step Ten of Walking the Twelve Steps with Jesus Christ, is the upward call, the moving forward, the living out of the commitment to sobriety we have made, daily evidence of the vow we took. It is the difficult task of living the solution to our problems --a much better, more appropriate, life-giving solution to our problems than the poor excuse for a solution (addiction) we tried previously. We have come to acknowledge that, in the past, we used addictive behaviors to numb ourselves to problems --wrongs we did, wrongs done to us. Rather than confronting these things with the light of God's Word, we hid from and muted the voice of truth with our bad habits. We acknowledged that God alone is able to take us from who we were to who we were made to be and agreed to follow Him in the way. We made an inventory of those hang-ups, confessed our role in those events or the cover-up that followed, and asked Jesus to heal us from them, to break their hold over us. Knowing that our previous actions impacted those around us, we determined which apologies and amends were necessary and possible, and made them happen. Having given our past over to the King, and "settled" as much of it as is within our power to do so, it is time to walk in this newer, freer way. It is time to live a life of sobriety.

For the sake of the bigger picture, I want to tell you, it will not be easy every day. As with living a married life, there will be days it feels liberating and safe and joyous. There will be days when the greatest thing holding us to the sober life is our word, the vow we have made, the course to which we have committed. Because of our commitment, we will know sobriety is liberating; we will know it is safe; we will know it is a joyous thing to handle circumstances with a clear mind, fully engaged with Jesus in the process. Despite what our feelings are telling us. Daily we will look at ourselves using the light of God's Word; we will confess our sin and choose to walk in obedience to our Master. And this is how we will live. It will be a "voyage of discovery." We will find new ways to deal with old problems, rather than creating new problems through the use of old ways. We will journey boldly with Jesus as His Spirit finishes the work that has begun, and spiritual fruit is matured. We will discover new things for which to be grateful and, perhaps, be given opportunity to realize dreams put on hold long ago. We will live a sober life in union with our Savior, pressing toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus (Phil. 3:13, 14)!