The answer to the question in the title of this post is:
Nothing, as far as I can tell.
But kind of, maybe…
Here’s what got me thinking. It was Maggie’s Facebook status update recently:
Author: lauracrosby (Page 35 of 45)
We’re in that season. You know, the celebration season. Weddings, Graduations, Showers, Confirmations. And in my family, a slew of birthdays.
That means trying to come up with great gifts ideas. And I always struggle, because I want to find things that are meaningful, but also practical and, well, fun…
So with a bunch of graduations this week, I asked the experts (Katy and Maggie) what they and their friends thought were the very best graduation gifts. They took a poll and got back to me.
The answer: Target gift cards.
Booooo-ring. Practical, yes, but definitely not fun or meaningful.
This was the backdrop for our all-church worship gathering Sunday.
81 year old grandpas who really prefer the organ, and 5-year-old girls who like to twirl to the music, and 28-year-old singles for whom 10:30 a.m. on a weekend would usually be considered too early even for God to be awake.
Side by side. Singing Holy, Holy, Holy. And How Great is our God.
The other day I was walking in a “Holy Place”. I hadn’t been there in awhile. It’s a path around a lake I walked daily for years.
And along that path God has soaked up a heck of a lot of tears. Listened patiently to my rants. Grieved over my anguished cries of confusion. And accepted my praise with a smile I think.
And in the patches of Godlight along the path He prompted something in me. Lately it seems God has been reiterating the theme word, “specific”. As in spell it out kid. As in not the Cliff Notes version.
I’m a house person. I love them. I love people who can create warm and welcoming environments where lively conversation happens and memories are made.
I love snooping around houses on the “Parade of Homes” tour in the spring and fall. And by that I mean coveting and taking pictures and pretending someday I’ll actually have the money to create similarly lovely rooms.
But I’m also critical (as if I had a design degree, which I don’t).
The problem, in my mind, is that most houses are too divided up.
John says I never saw a wall I didn’t want to knock down. And we’ve knocked down a wall or two in homes that we’ve owned. These were messy propositions and the process left us feeling uncomfortable and unsettled.
For one season the microwave was in the study and there was a 4 ft. square hole in the floor of the family room that I stepped through, almost ending up in the basement. A tad disconcerting.
This is a house I’ve ridden and run by on many days. They’ve been working on it for what seems like at least 37 years. First I watched them demolish the previous house. Then cart off the rubble. Then excavate and dig and pour a foundation and slowly, slowly begin to re-build.
If I were the owners I’d be going crazy. I’d be so ready to settle for the quick version. A little less attention to detail.
When I ride by I think of this quote by C.S. Lewis:
“Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house.
At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on; you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make any sense. What on earth is He up to?
The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of – throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards.
You thought you were being made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself.”
I’ve realized lately that there are some walls in my life that I’ve made load-bearing that weren’t meant to be. And by that I mean some relationships. I’ve expected them to bear the weight that only Jesus is meant to bear.
And they’ve come crashing down.
In His knocking about, Jesus has removed some relational supports that I really valued. More than I should, perhaps. Load-bearing walls that I was depending on too much to give me worth, identity…
And then the demolition process feels kind of like stepping on an old barn ladder rung and having it snap. All of a sudden you’re left hanging by one hand and the shock is a little scary and anger-producing and you’re thinking, “What just happened??”
But God whispers, “That friendship wasn’t meant to hold all your weight. And it wasn’t meant to define your worth. Only I am. And I think you’re spectacular. No matter what. And your house is gonna be a lot more beautiful when I’m done with it.”
Can you relate? Is God “knocking about” in your “house”?
Last weekend John and I preached together on the topic of Encouragement from the book of Acts.
AARRGGHH! When we do this he is exceedingly kind and because I’m a planner and he’s a “fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants” guy which freaks me out, he lets me study and write the sermon and then he just naturally does his thing, which is always authentic and conversational and makes everything better.
Anyway, I’ve always thought about encouragement as a good thing, a nice thing…
But as I studied it in the book of Acts I began to see it as a crucial tool that God uses to combat Satan in a spiritual battle that is continually raging. I fear that sounds all hokey/pokey intense and mystical, but think about it…
Satan’s goal is to get us to believe the lies that
we don’t matter,
that God is powerless,
and that we’re all alone.
When we encourage, we remind others of God’s truth – that they do matter, it’s gonna be ok, and they’re not alone.
You can listen, or get more resources here, but what I’ve been thinking about is three things we didn’t say.
1. Discouragement is personal. Not only does Satan lie to discourage, but he is also crafty liar. He tailors his whispers to each of us uniquely. His attacks usually center around our identity. So if we’re tempted to find our worth in being married, he’ll whisper “You’re not lovable. You’re not attractive to anyone.” If we’re tempted to find our worth in accomplishment he may whisper “You’re only a mom, or a secretary, or a barista, or a whatever… You’re not making a difference. You’re not good enough.”
Be aware.
2. Encouragement is personal. The most powerful encouragement is very specific. When someone says, “Nice sermon.” I tend to discount it as just polite small talk. It’s like the difference between “You’re terrific!” and “You have a gift of hospitality that helps people experience the welcoming heart of God. Thank you.”
Be specific.
3. Timing is personal. Never underestimate the power of encouragement used in a timely way by God. Years ago I “randomly” felt prompted to write a guy in another part of the country who had been a mentor in leadership training for me in college. I hadn’t had contact with him in 20 years. I wrote of the impact his modeling had made in my life, specifically how his investment had made a kingdom difference. Little did I know that this was a divinely timed prompting from the Holy Spirit.
I received a response from him saying “Your note came at the absolute lowest point in my life. I had lost perspective. I was in despair, convinced that my ministry hadn’t made any difference, that I had sacrificed for years with no fruit. Your note was the reminder from God that I needed.” Wow. Blew me away!
Be responsive to promptings.
In what situations are you likely to be discouraged? What has been most encouraging to you?
Both my parents, and my brother and sister-in-law have had nests of baby birds in their yards this spring, and have regaled us with stories of their tentative first days of life. My sister-in-law posted this picture the other day. Too cute.
It made me think of this verse: “Open wide your mouth and I will fill it.” Psalm 81:10
When I read these words, and see this picture I think of the contrast of a baby bird with it’s mouth open wide, and a toddler with his mouth clamped shut in grumpy defiance, refusing to have a spoonful of pureed carrots popped into his mouth.
I’m often that surly toddler, turning my face away from my Father as He says “Open wide.” Sometimes because I think I have important toddler work to do and don’t have time to eat.
Other times because I don’t particularly care for the manna God has on the menu for the day.
And sometimes I opt for a snack in place of a meal. And by that I mean maybe reading something inspirational on Twitter.
But this week has been one of opening wide and being filled and I’m grateful.
Time with His Words. Fill us up with Truth that replaces the lies of the world.
Dinners with friends I love where we spoke truth to each other and offered words of encouragement. Fill us up with life-giving relationships.
Time in the country and on bike trails, and listening to lightning flash and thunder crash. Fill us up with the beauty of Your creation.
A vibrant online dialog about leadership skills and facing hard realities (you can learn more here). Fill us up with skills and self-awareness to better serve You.
A mini prayer retreat, listening in silence with others. Fill us up with your Holy whispers.
“Let them give thanks to the Lord for his unfailing love and his wonderful deeds for humankind, for He satisfies the thirsty and fills the hungry with good things.” Psalm 107:9
How have you experienced the filling up of God this week?
On this blog I share stories from my life, but my deepest prayer is that they wouldn’t be just about me, but about all of us and our quest to see the hand of God in all of life. Even though this is to my daughters I hope it’s meaningful for parents and sons and daughters alike.
Dear Precious Girls,
As I write this we’re on our third flight coming home from Sri Lanka, through Bombay and Amsterdam. Too much time to think. Feeling out of sync with time changes, and nostalgic, and ready to sleep in my own bed and be in a normal summer routine that includes Minnesota lakes and green grass.
In this season, traveling to exotic places, experiencing the humidity and dust of ancient cultures, the taste of unusual spices and the the smell of incense and poverty, I am grateful. But I also long for home and the simplicity of summer days when you both were little.
Playing Monopoly and hopscotch on the driveway, picking strawberries, and making water balloons, and walking to the library as we were serenaded by cicadas. Creating forts and reading Betsy, Tacy, and Tib aloud on hot summer afternoons that we savored like melting popsicles, slurping up the goodness of the day.
I think in contrast, of this season of your life now, as young professional women living in D.C. where you have a vibrant faith community, stimulating dialog about important ideas, and the opportunity to experience Supreme Court arguments, Embassy receptions, and White House fireworks. A good, good season.
I want you to savor every moment, drink up every drop. To choose life in all its fullness. This is the season of your life when you’ll set courageous goals and experience lovely victories and maybe fall flat on your face some too. You’ll nurture deep friendships, look to wise mentors, and invest in causes that are deeply meaningful.
It’s the season when you get to ask yourself, “What story do I want to be able to tell in fifteen years?”
In this season I pray you’ll pause, not only to acknowledge the good gifts, but also the Gift Giver. Yeah, I know there are rough days with job stress, and not enough money, and bad hair days, and questions about what’s next and where, but still…
I may be tempted to look back with longing, and you to look forward with longing, but meanwhile there’s today. Gregory Boyle quotes Thich Nhat Hahn saying “our true home is the present moment.”
The Desert Fathers would repeat one word over and over. Not “Jesus” or “Love”, but the word, “today”. It reminded them where they needed to be.
So today, where you are, and where I am, let’s just choose life and thanksgiving in the present. God is good. We get to sing “Great is Thy Faithfulness” in every season.
And when you come home this summer for a visit, let’s be sure to play Monopoly and go to Dairy Queen.
There are certain unspoken rules in life.
You know, like you wash your hands and brush your teeth and if you’re a good person you recycle and you show up for work on time.
And then there’s the rule that parents with babies or toddlers can tweet, post, text, blog, or whip out their iphone to show photos of their little baby noses, and little baby toes at any moment. And it’s a BIG DEAL.
Plump drooly smiles, toothless yawns…The wonder of their new words and cute curiosity of their questions. Every. Single. Move. An opportunity to brag, to celebrate, to marvel. But only til they hit, say, the age of braces. Then, all bets are off. It’s illegal to brag publicly.
Oh, don’t get me wrong! I think all of the baby bragging is great. I want to be in the “ooh” and “aahhh” club, doing the veritable “wave” for babies like in the stands at a football game.
I just want to change the rule a bit. Tweak it, if you will.
I think we should be tweeting about more wonder than just babies.
More world-wide “wow’s!” More everyday victory dances. Kudos and “atta girl’s!” and “you’re the best!”
For Austin coaching teens and teaching one of his inner-city football players to tie his tie for prom.
For Sarah and Erin, young women with servant hearts who work so hard behind the scenes at our church and make others look good.
For Eric, a twelve-year old amazing young man from Togo, who perseveres as he works to learn both multiplication and American baseball.
For a woman doing her fifth step in recovery…a young single saying yes to purity…a husband serving his wife by getting up in the night with a crying baby…a friend forgiving a wrong…
For all these and so many more, “Way to go!”
Here’s the reason I think we should tweak the rule about baby bragging.
I think God is a bursting with pride Papa who would whip out photos from his wallet or iphone in a nano-second wanting to crow about His children no matter where, or when, or how old.
“Look! That’s my daughter! This is my son! Aren’t they great??!” No matter how large or small the victory, He delights in us and I think He delights in being a braggy dad.
So today, as Anthony De Mello writes, “Behold the One beholding you and smiling.”
Who do you want to give a shout out to today? Consider posting a line in the comment section!
I’ve been struggling with something recently, and it’s led me to pray differently.
Not all the time. Mostly at meals.
It’s happened because awhile back we spent time with some Christians in a foreign country who never prayed. I’m sure they did sometime, but not in our presence. They’d let us pray if we asked to, but that’s all. And it flumoxed me. It was curious and dissonance-producing and I wasn’t sure how I felt.
I was confused. I thought, “We’re Christians. We’re supposed to pray. It’s what we do.”
On our own, but also together. Out loud. At group devotions in the morning and at meals at the very least. It’s kind of a rule. Like brushing your teeth before bed, or saying please and thank you, or taking out the garbage.
Eventually, what I noticed about the people we had been with made me notice something about myself. The speck in my own eye if you will. I realized how rote my throughout-the-day prayers had become.
Predictable. Going through the motions.
We say the same thing. “Bless this.” “Be with them” (a phrase I hate). And “Thanks for that.”
It made me think, “What are we really doing when we pray before meetings, or at meals or whatever…? What does God desire?”
So I talked to God and my husband John, and processed for awhile. And during that time God used His word like a megaphone. It seemed like every time I opened the Bible I’d come across verses like:
Psalm 29:2 “Ascribe to the Lord the glory due His name.”
And Matthew 10:32 “Whoever publicly acknowledges me I will also acknowledge before my Father in heaven. But whoever publicly disowns me I will disown I will disown before my Father in heaven.”
Psalm 34:3 “Magnify the Lord with me. Let us exalt His name together.”
Magnify huh? Acknowledge what? Ascribe to who?
I have a condition called night blindness. It means I have no depth perception when I drive at night. I get disoriented easily. I’ve driven through stoplights and on the shoulder of the road. One dark night I was driving home from seminary and wasn’t paying attention. I made a wrong turn without realizing it and all of a sudden looked around and had absolutely no idea where I was. I couldn’t get my bearings. I’m beginning to think I (and maybe all of us) also have day blindness.
We need periodic reorientation so we don’t forget who we are (not God), and whose we are and where we are – far from our true home, dependent on the king of that kingdom.
I try to orient myself to God in the morning, but once the busyness of the day begins I’m at the center again, putting Him on the margins in my manic busyness. Treating God like He should revolve around ME. Through-the-day prayers are a chance to switch places back. Again. And again.
These through-the-day prayers with others are about stopping. More about submission than supplication. The wise men and the shepherds bowing before Jesus.
Re-orienting. Like a sailboat that’s drifted off-course, re-aligning sails to the wind.
Silence. Stillness. Pausing with others at lunch, in a coffee shop, in a meeting room…truly being present to God seems to be my best reminder to start with.
We get so wrapped up in the speed of the day that often those prayers at meals are “throw-aways”...a quick word because we’re “supposed to”, and not because we’re truly aware of returning to an awareness of the presence of God, ascribing to Him the glory due His name.
So, I’m trying. It’s not easy. But I find, like a sailor who has turned his rudder, I sometimes catch just a bit of breeze and feel the delight of the Holy Spirit.
Do you pray in public? Does it feel meaningful? Awkward? Pretentious? Rote?
Hi, I’m Laura – a Jesus-follower who gets it wrong a lot, but is still beloved just like you.
