RDM#26 - Right where I am supposed to be

For Rainy Day Monday today, I am going to be doing something slightly different.  As you know, the point is to post one of my old posts again, or to borrow one from a friend with their permission.  Today I am going to steal one without the author's permission.

Many years ago, when I was going through a difficult time about my purpose in life, and quite a few frustrations with my Small Group, I found a site called. On Being A Small Group Leader.  I discovered it completely by accident, where I was actually googling some some lyrics he quoted. 

One post in particular really touched me.  It reminded me why I wanted to be a Small Group Leader.  It re-confirmed that this was where I was supposed to be.  It helped me understand that whatever else I might do for the Lord, this was something I was. 

The post could have been written by me, it so clearly expressed my feelings.  And they are still as real today as they were back then. 

All excepy number 15, since I don't have any wife or children.  But the rest are all gold. :-)

The reason I say it is stolen, is because shortly after I discovered the blog, and while I was still reading through all the old posts, the writer stopped posting.  He jsut dissappeared.  I was so moved by some of his posts that I tried to contact him, and put a little effort into contacting him to let him know how it had changed my life.

I never found him.

But luckily the blog is still up and running, so the posts are still there.

So if you are Matt Howell, or know where to find him, tell him I am sorry I couldn't get his permission to share this today; and tell him to pop over and visit, and see how he helped a little FISH find his place in the world.


Right Where I'm Supposed To Be

I was talking with Mark, my friend and small group apprentice, about the small group we lead together.

The conversation reminded me again of one of the best things about being me right now ... I feel absolutely sure I'm doing just what God put me on the earth to do. I really believe that, at this point in time, my life's work is to be a small group leader. All the experiences, all the learning, all the studying, has brought me to this point.

This is a place I've rarely visited, and it's a great place to be.

So, what do I like about being a small group leader?

1 - I like the preparation for the study portion of our sessions.

2 - I like thinking strategically about how to help our people grow spiritually.

3 - I like the challenge of finding new ways to communicate old truths.

4 - I like the snacks afterwards.

5 - I like the way our group laughs together.

6 - I like talking about God with others who like talking about Him.

7 - I like the look on someone's face when something "clicks on" for them.

8 - I like listening to our group members pray.

9 - I like the challenge of coming up with opening questions that have a purpose behind them.

10 - I like reading about leading small groups.

11 - I like the positive feedback I get from our small group director.

12 - I like having people to pray for.

13 - I like having people who pray for me.

14 - I like feeling like I'm not alone in our church.

15 - I like having the kids in the house, seeing the value Mom and Dad place on their spiritual lives.

16 - I like the way that I have to keep growing so I can keep up with the others in our group.

17 - I like listening to relatively new Christians struggle to understand the Bible, because I know their struggles will pay off.

18 - I like the way I feel when people walk into the house for our meeting.

19 - I like the way being a small group leader has become such a large part of my daily thoughts.

20 - I like knowing that, for whatever reason, God trusts me to do this for Him.

21 - I like watching people grow spiritually.

22 - I like watching the walls gradually coming down in our group as people become more willing to "be real" with each other.

23 - I like the fun we have when we have social events together.

24 - I like belonging somewhere.

25 - I like giving others a place to belong.

26 - I like knowing that I'm not responsible for making eternal things happen in the lives of others.

27 - I like learning to trust in God to effect life change.

28 - I like having a purpose for my life.

29 - I like feeling like I'm making a difference in the lives of others.

30 - I like feeling like I'm making a difference for the kingdom.






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RDM 25 - Servant/Leader

Ah, Rainy Day Monday again.  That day when I pull an old post out of the archives and brush it off.  Today I am posting from one of my own archives.

Servant/Leader

Okay, so the poster is a little sarcastic, but the rest of this post is so serious that I needed to inject a little humour. I was reading a post about leadership over at one of the blogs I follow. I was drafting a comment, when I realised that I have actually written something about this before; it was one of my first posts on Sharkbait's Reef before facebook removed me. So I decided to re-post it here.

Who or what is a servant leader? Are all leaders called to be servants? Are all servants called to be leaders?

The essence of this question comes down to this. We are all called to serve. To serve others, and to serve God. We are however called to serve in different ways. The true leader recognises his need to serve those around him, but also recognises that the best way to do this is to lead them. His decision to lead is not motivated by a desire to be the leader, but by a true desire to serve his followers. To have in his heart a burning desire to be of service to them, and to walk with them, for their sake, and as a service to God.

On the other hand, the leader who wants to lead, and decides he must do so by serving is not going to be able to do either. His desire to be a leader is going to hamper his ability to serve, and his attempts to serve will drain him as a leader. God gives leaders the special gifts to equip them: leadership; teaching; counselling; shepherding etc. But if our desire is to be leaders, we will burn ourselves out. If our primary desire is to serve God, and serve our fellow man in love for God and them, then God will sustain us.

God will sustain us in our service of him. We are all called to serve, and we are all called to lead. But while serving does not always involve leading, leading must always involve serving.

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RDM #24 - Confession

As you know, Rainy Day Mondays are a day for me to pull an old post out of the archives.  Today I am taking the opportunity to re-post a piece from one of my blogging buddies.

Stephanie at The Red Clay Diaries started her first blog post by saying “Hi there! I’m Stephanie, and I guess I have something to say. At any rate, I have a place to say it.”  Well, lately she has become so popular that she has been guest-posting all over the blogosphere, so I guess she must have a lot to say, and a lot more places to say it.

So I thought while she was in a giving mood, I would ask whether I could re-post one of her early writings which I really enjoyed, and she kindly agreed.  This post really spoke to me when I first read it; I hope it speaks to you as well.

 

A CONFESSION

What is it about the spiritual disciplines that I so strongly resist? I’ve been a Christ-follower for over 30 years. I know how much I benefit from keeping a regular appointment with God. It’s the only reason I get up at 5:30 a.m. every school day — ostensibly to give me time alone to pray, journal, or study Scripture before I have to wake the kids. I’ve carved out a full hour of quiet time every morning.

Okay, so what did I do with it today? Let me tell you: I checked email. I followed an interesting link in an email. I checked the weather. Then I surfed all the Black Friday (day after Thanksgiving) ad sites. I wasted an hour doing nothing of any importance. I only get a few hours a week all to myself, and I used it to play. What is wrong with me?

I know what it is. Let’s just say I have a problem with authority. My mom was a little controlling, and I responded by rebelling. When I was supposed to do homework, I played. When grounded from TV, I snuck and watched it anyway. As a kid home alone, I wasn’t allowed to cook anything – even with the toaster oven – till my teen years. So what did I do as a tween when Mom wasn’t home? I toasted bread… AND lit every candle in the house.

Unfortunately, my rebellion usually cost me. I wasn’t even aware of the biggest price until adulthood: an absence of internal discipline. It took external force — or nagging — to get me to obey.

What does this have to do with reading my Bible and praying? I’m still a rebel at heart, and I have to fight for internal discipline every day. Something still rises up within me whenever I tell myself to do anything. I decide to cut back on sugar, and within a week I’m all, “Let’s eat brownies for breakfast! I decide to keep up with laundry by doing a load a day… and days go by without me entering the laundry room. Right now, to get to the utility sink I have to wade through at least 5 loads on the floor. I decide to start a blog on my spiritual journey and THE NEXT MORNING I’m refusing to even think about writing. In essence, I rebel against myself — and probably God. Acting on this temptation only hurts me.

So here goes: I’ll confess it to you (and God) in this posting. Maybe that’ll teach the 11-year-old who still lives inside me that she’s better off just doing the right thing. In the meantime, I hope I find out that I’m not alone in this.

So go visit Stephanie at her site, and then come back and join me in a Rainy Day Monday as well.  You know you want to. 

RDM 23 - Free Will

Another post from my archives for Rainy Day Monday today.  I don't know if this ever happens to you, but some days I just feel like this.

Free Will

Why can’t you just

overwhelm me already.

You gave me free will

a wondrous gift to be sure.

But I don’t think I’m using it right.

Can’t you take it back, please?

RDM 22 – No hands

It has been a while since I posted one of my own posts for a Rainy Day Monday entry, so here goes. 

Christ has no body here but ours
No hands, no feet, here on earth but ours
Ours are the eyes though which he looks
On this world, With Kindness.
Ours are the hands through which he works
Ours are the feet on which he moves
Ours are the voices through which he speaks
To this world, With Kindness

I'm sure you've heard these words, or similar words in the past. Words that remind us that "we are Christ's hands and feet in the world." Quite a heavy burden don't you think? I don't know about you, but I think trying to live up to that day by day would be pretty exhausting. So how do we know where to put our hands and feet? There is so much suffering in the world, from the fighting in Israel and Palestine, to the persecution of Christians in Egypt and Sudan. From genocide in Africa, to starvation and poverty in South America. It just goes on and on. I don't know about you, but I can't go a day without seeing people suffering, either from lack of food, or lack of God, or both.

It's everywhere. So where should we be?

When Jesus called us to be his hands and feet, he also called us to have his heart. To feel his heart beat with ours, and feel what he feels. To let our heart break for what breaks his heart. To let our heart long for what his heart longs for.

I think when we choose to join our heart with his, he will break our heart in small ways. As I draw closer to him, I feel my heart breaking for the plight of mentally disabled people, so I have a ministry to Disabled Adults where I go out to a local support centre for a church service once a month. I feel his heart break for the youth to know Christ before they start turning from their childhood teaching, so I am involved with preparing teenagers for confirmation. I feel his heart beat for the community of the small group I am involved with, where I pray constantly for them and their protection, so I am a small group leader.

I know these are areas where God wants me, because when I work here, I feel his heart. Whether I am 'enjoying' myself or not in a particular circumstance, I feel my heart beat with love, and occasionally break with sadness. This I hope is God's heart beating with mine, and letting me know where I am needed.

Sounds simple?

It is; But it's not easy.

It involves seeking God's heart all the time. Which I have shared before is very hard for me. I am good at "working for the kingdom", but find it harder to 'be still, and know that I am GOD". To know, I mean really know, that GOD is all I need, and that everything else is just extra. To know that I am reaching out to these people, not because it is the right thing to do, or because it makes me feel good about myself, but because I am really valuing what GOD values.

When HE calls out, in the words of the song:

I, the Lord of snow and rain,
I have borne my people’s pain.
I have wept for love of them.
They turn away.

I will break their hearts of stone,
Give them hearts for love alone.
I will speak my words to them.
Whom shall I send?

Will I be able to answer...

Here I am, Lord. Is it I, Lord
I have heard you calling in the night.
I will go, Lord, if you lead me.
I will hold your people in my heart.

 

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RDM 21 – Close, but no cigar

My featured blogger for this week’s Rainy Day Monday is Sherri from Matter of Fact.

I am using one of her first posts, called Close, but no cigar.  Despite being an early blog post, I think it got more comments than any of my blog posts have ever got.  However I believe it deserves another look.  So here, for your Rainy Day Monday amusement, I give you….

Close, but no cigar...

* This is one of the very first posts I wrote on MySpace a couple of months ago. I wanted to share it with you.

I attended my niece's coronation ceremony for Homecoming recently. She was not crowned Queen, but was in the Queen's court, a huge accomplishment as she is from a rather large high school in our area.

I almost was in the queen's court my senior year (26 years ago) . My mother almost became queen over 50 years ago.

I go to church with a guy than runs for Rend Lake College, made the Olympic Track Team for his home Country, Kenya, Africa! He almost made the finals!

I watched my middle son fight in a CAGE FIGHT,( I know, I know) only his second time, where he was boxing and really whipping his opponent for most of the match. He almost won!

Another son had an oil painting win first prize at a college art fair! He almost won Best of Show!

What I realize is, these were all remarkable accomplishments by ordinary people but so often if we don't reach the tip top, #1, Champion, it seems to lessen the experience. How very sad.

Did you know that a guy from Rend Lake College in Southern Illinois ran against Olympic Champions? His name is BOAZ.

Did you know that my son won his very first "cage fight" with just minimal training?

(You'd have to watch these cage fights/mixed martial arts fights on TV to really appreciate this- although I use the term "watch" loosely. I only peeked through my fingers a couple of times!)

Did you know my son's painting hung in the Halls at John A. Logan College?

Yes, a beautiful oil painting of Muhammad Ali (what's with my kids and their fascination with violence?)

Did you know my mother was dirt poor back in the fifties, a daughter of an alcoholic, and she actually made it into the Marion High School's Queen Court?

These accomplishments in and of themselves are deserving of applause.

I often live in a world of "almosts"....
I almost closed the deal and sold that big ad,
I almost lost enough weight,
I almost got the whole house cleaned....

Ya' know what? I've learned valuable lessons from being "almost great"!

I'm humble, I'm very flexible, not easily discouraged, and I have a great sense of humor.

I've learned to strive for excellence but I'm Okay with the fact that even at MY best, someone else just might be better.

More than once I've had someone say to me, "Close, but no cigar!".

I'm Okay with that--- What would I do with a cigar? I don't even smoke!

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RDM 19 – Bless My Socks Off

If you are very good at counting, you will notice that last week’s Rainy Day Monday post was number 20, and the week before was 18.  So it only makes sense that this week should be 19, because that’s how I roll.  Deal with it!

Rainy Day Monday’s are a day to take a post out of the archives, and expose it to a fresh audience.  Many of you probably know Annie K over at Buzz by Annie’s.  She takes some pretty awesome pictures of the sun (yeah, really) and blogs some pretty awesome insights.  One of these that she blogged in January 2009 was called Bless My Socks Off, and she has kindly agreed to let me post it again.

Bless My Socks Off

Lately, I've been feeling a wee bit down. I think that probably all working wives/moms feel that way, kind of like an episode of The Neglected Housewives. So, this morning, I threw down a dare to God (in a 'nice' way). I get these little devotions emailed each morning from Turning Point Ministries. That is Dr. David Jeremiah's ministry and if you have never heard him speak, you should find a radio station that plays his messages and do so. I have a tremendous amount of admiration and respect for the man because he knows his stuff. Anyway, back to the 'dare'. I told God, "I dare you to bless me this morning." And He did. (Now I don't know if God likes it when we do that, but somehow, I have a feeling that after I read my little devotion and said 'wow, that blessed me' he probably blew the smoke from the barrel of the gun and walked away to the sound of The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly playing in the background.) Because I love you all so much, I wanted to share my blessing with you.

Irrevocable Promises

For the Lord your God will bless you just as He promised you.
Deuteronomy 15:6

Some days are harder than others, and perhaps this is one of them for you. Life is full of frustrations, and we can grow mighty weary with financial pressures, family problems, church misunderstandings, and workplace conflicts. It sometimes seems like we’re losing our minds.

But God is not losing His! Remember that nothing revokes His faithfulness. His promises to us are irreversible, unalterable, firm, and fixed. There are conditions to be met, of course; but outer circumstances must bend, in His time, to the purposes and promises of God for our lives.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer once said, “God does not give us everything we want, but He does fulfil His promises… leading us along the best and straightest paths to Himself.” The Lord your God will bless you just as He has promised in His Word.

His promises are sure, His blessings are great, His grace is sufficient, His presence is near, His mercy is everlasting, and His truth endures to all generations. Cheer up! It’s not as bad as it seems.

Let God’s promises shine on your problems.
Corrie ten Boom
Oh, and as God was walking into the sunset, I thought I heard him say 'touche'.

So pop over to Annie’s Blog and say “Hi”, and then do your own Rainy Day Monday Post.  You know you want to.  We have Mr Linky, and buttons.  What more could you ask?

RDM 20 - Hope

Well, in a strange turn of fate, today actually is a Rainy Day Monday, because it is cold and wet.  It had to happen some time.

Rainy Day Mondays is a meme I host where you choose an old post of your own, (or someone else's), that didn’t get as much attention as it deserved when it was posted, and so you save it for a Rainy Day Monday.  Today was supposed to be a RMD post from a friend, but I decided today will probably be something of a low day in blogging.  After the long weekend, many are on holiday, and probably won’t be checking their computers.  (Come to think of it, what are you doing here?)

So I am posting a short post I did many months ago called Hope  The “poem” seemed appropriate, given the season we are in, as it talks all about hope and faith.  It was originally part of a larger poem, but, as often happens, the one line was the best part. 

 

Hope

Hope comes in the morning,
But faith gets you through the night.
(Sharkbait)

Sorry, that's all I got for you today. If you want something a little more profound...

 

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RDM #18 – If it’s worth doing…

So here we are, on another fine Rainy Day Monday, and it is time to reach into the vaults for an old and undervalued post by a talented writer.

 

So I decided to use me today. :-)

 

On my other site, Seven’s Heaven, I have a series called Faith and Writing, where I examine the similarities between writing and being a Christian.  There are actually more than you might think.

 

Here’s an old post I did about perfection, and how it can be a bad thing.

 

Faith and Writing – If it’s worth doing…

I have heard it said that if something is worth doing, it is worth doing well.  My response to that is… Nonsense.

If something is worth doing, then it’s worth doing badly. 

 

Particularly writing.

 

If you spend too much time agonising over every word, and getting it just right, then you will never finish anything.  There is a story told of James Joyce that one day a friend arrived at his house and found him crying over a manuscript.  He asked him, “What’s wrong.” 
“I wrote seven words today.”  He replied.
“Seven words?  But that’s good for you James!”
“Yes,” he replied, “but I don’t know what order they go in.”

 

We often get what might be called Paralysis by Analysis.  Where we are so intimidated by choosing the right first word, that we can’t even get to the second one.  So decide to use the wrong one, and then take it from there. Ray Bradbury said “Your creativity know what it wants to say, don’t get in the way.”

 

This I believe is the way to go forward.  People accept less than perfection in other areas, why not writing?  If I tell people I paint in my spare time, they are all impressed, regardless of the result.  If I take them to my study, and show them my paint-by-number set, they smile and say, “At least he’s happy.”  I play the guitar.  Really badly.  And people are okay with that.  As long as I don’t try and play for them.  So why do I feel I have to be perfect as a writer?  Why can’t I make mistakes, and learn from them.

 

The same with our faith.  Why do I feel like I have to get it right every time?  I know God told me to be perfect, but seriously! That’s not going to happen overnight.  If I make a mistake, and slip backwards, I beat myself up, and think I not be a real Christian, because I can’t get it right.  So what do I do?  I stop trying.

I fall back into an old habit or sin today, so I don’t even try and avoid it tomorrow.

But the secret is to keep learning and moving forward. 
To see every split infinitive and sin as an opportunity to become better.
Not to wallow in self-pity over spilled vowels and impure thoughts, but to vow to do better, recognising that nothing comes without effort.
To recognise that if I try so hard to be perfect, I will set myself up for a fall.
To know that if I wait until God’s voice is audible, or my creativity dictates the perfect book, I will have a long wait, but in the meantime, to just do the best with what I think I hear, and let him guide me to hear better next time.

 

So get out there and do it, even if you do it badly.

So leave a comment, and if you are also doing a Rainy Day Monday post, leave a link.  I know one day it will catch on.

RDM 17 – Chew on this

Another Rainy Day Monday post, and today it’s a short one.  This post has the distinction of being the first post I ever did that got a comment.  It was supposed to be longer, but nothing I typed actually made the post any better, so I just left it as the quote.

Chew on this for a minute

"Gandhi tried to follow Jesus without being a Christian.
Today, we try to be Christians without following Jesus"
Brian McLaren.

I haven’t used a Mr Linky this week, because it seems an awful lot of work when no one has used it in the last year I have been doing RDM posts.  If anyone else IS taking part, feel free to post your link in the comment section. 

RDM #16 - Sand Dollar

It is the beginning of the week, and that means a Rainy Day Monday post.  For those of you new to my blog, this is where I pull a blog post out of the archives, and share it with you. 

Today I have the privilege of sharing with you a post by my blogging buddy Sarah Salter over at Living Between the Lines. If you aren’t following her blog, you really should be.  She is a very thought-provoking writer, and many of her posts have stayed with me for a long time.  One such piece, that she shared with us a year ago, was entitled The Sand Dollars, and I can never go to the beach without thinking about it.  Once you’ve read it, go over to her blog and say hi.

The Sand Dollars

When I was a little bitty girl, I began a personal quest: to find an unbroken sand dollar. Anybody can go buy one from one of those tourist-trappy little stores. But I was determined to examine every shell on the coast of NC until I found one myself.

When I told my mother of my quest, she told me that I’d never find one. According to Mama, by the time a sand dollar makes it to the shore, the waves have beaten it and abused it so much that there’s very little chance that it would come to rest on the shore all in one piece. She was born on the Crystal Coast. She had been raised with sand in her bathing suit and hermit crabs nibbling at her toes. She certainly knew what she was talking about. But still, a trip to the beach never passed without me scanning the sand for a whole sand dollar. And just as Mama said, I only ever found broken-up fragments.

I have a lot of happy memories from childhood. Most of them include being at my grandmother’s house at the coast and being sunburned, playing with my brother and cousins. But along with the happy memories, there are a lot of unhappy memories—many of them that I’ve mentioned in previous posts that I won’t bring up again now. And at some point in my life, the unhappy times replaced the happy ones in my mind and the sadness began to take over—pushing me very near to suicide.

I can’t remember which Christmas it was. But it’s been within the last few years… My mother, her older brother, her baby sister, and I decided that the best way to walk off Christmas Dinner was a nice, brisk walk on the beach. It was a cold day and the wind was sharp, blowing in off the waves. But you couldn’t’ve dragged me off that beach with wild horses. We bundled up until we looked ridiculous and took off walking down the beach.

I’m the shorty (5”2) in a family of extra-tall people. I guess I got the recessive genes… Which must also be where I got the blonde hair… But because I have short legs, when we walk, I quickly get left behind. Normally, I’ll sprint to catch up or call out to them to slow down. But on this particular day, I found myself enraptured by the sound of the waves and hypnotized by the waving grasses on the nearby dunes. I let Mama and the others walk ahead. I slowed to a stop, looked out at the ocean and was so completely overtaken by a sense of the glory of God that I thought time had stopped.

Mama’s voice broke into my thoughts. ”You okay back there?”

“Yeah, Mama. Go ahead. Catch me on the way back.”

I began plodding along slowly, watching the waves lick the sand, wetting it and then sliding back out to let the sand dry. My mind was wandering when I noticed that the last wave had carried something in and deposited it on the sand. I took a few small steps and then, I saw it: a small, perfect sand dollar. In awe, I pulled my warm hand out of my pocket and picked it up. It was just the size of my small palm and I turned it over and over again, studying it, wet, sticky, and sandy against my skin.

See, I had a Christmas gift for you today. I felt the voice of the LORD in my heart as clear as any spoken voice I’d ever heard before. I stood, frozen to my spot and looked out across the waves at the horizon.

For me, Lord? I blinked back tears and softly brushed the salt and sand off of the sand dollar.

This creature has been buffeted and beaten by the most brutal of waves. It has crashed into the sand. But it has not been broken.

Ever since I received that gift from God, I have kept the sand dollar and treasured it. I still occasionally hold it in my palm and feel the majesty of God and the overwhelming love. But that wasn’t the only lesson for me.

A couple of years ago, I went to the beach with a group of my friends from church. We spent a weekend and had a great time, even though it was still too early to swim. I watched my crazy guy friends “walk” down the sand on their hands and chase each other. And I watched the girls walk the beach, picking up only the most perfect of shells. The group had spread out all over the beach and I found myself alone, near the water, feeling the frigid water wash up over my feet and seeing what broken-up shells the tide brought with it.

The wind whipped my hair around wildly and I reached to hold it back with one hand. Then, looking down, I saw a sand dollar sticking up out of the sand, I excited reached down to pick it up.

LORD, another one?!

But when I pulled the shell out of the sand, I saw that the shell was broken almost exactly in half. Disappointed, I instinctively began to let it fall from my hand back into the surf when a small voice stopped me.

Wait. Keep it. This one’s beautiful too—because it has a story. It has a lesson to teach. It has a purpose. Its survival makes it beautiful.

For most of my life, I’ve been afraid for people to see my brokenness. But God is showing me that although sometimes we can weather the storms without being broken, sometimes it’s okay to be broken. A broken life—like mine—is beautiful too. My life has a story. It has a lesson to teach. It has a purpose. And its survival makes it beautiful.

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RDM #14 – Some thoughts about lent

Here we have another instalment in the exciting Rainy Day Mondays series.   This is an opportunity for me to pull something out of the archives, either an old post from my blog or another blog, and to re-post it for fresh consideration.

This week we will be doing something slightly different:  This is not strictly from a blog, nor is it strictly an old post.  Some friends of mine started a facebook group called The Lent Challenge, which is going very well.  It is an opportunity to get ideas for performing “totally senseless acts of niceness in the name of the Lord” during Lent.  However even if you are not observing lent this year, it doesn’t mean you can’t join and be nice anyway. :-)

Well one of those good friends, Cherolyn Amery, posted a wonderful comment on the first day.  It was kind of an introduction to lent, and possibly a new way of looking at it for some people. 

Some thoughts about lent…

Most of us know about all about lent: a 40-day period in the church calendar leading up to the big Easter Sunday celebrations. I immediately connect it with giving something up, denying myself some pleasure in a way to grow spiritually. I have tried to "do lent" many times, and honestly, have only succeeded (made it all the way through lent without giving in to my cravings!) a few times. And every time I messed it up, I felt guilty and berated myself for being a spiritual wimp.

I was thinking about lent this weekend and trying to figure out for myself what the whole point of it actually is. If lent is about self-denial, it's not exactly joyous and pleasant. So what's the benefits? My immediate thoughts ran to the idea that somehow it earned us "God brownie points"... that God is impressed when we are especially disciplined and self-denying for Him.

And then I picked up a book (The Ragamuffin Gospel) and idly stumbled across something on a page that hit me smack between the eyes as I was thinking about lent. It said that there is nothing that we can ever do to make God love us more.

I know it's a simple truth. But suddenly I realised that "doing lent" is never going to make God think more of us. It's not going to get us any closer to Heaven. It's not going to make God love us more. All of that is already sorted for all of us, without question or exception. Whether or not we "do lent", God loves us exactly the same.

And yet lent can be a time of change. It won't change how God feels about us, but it has the potential to change us, and grow our relationship with God as we choose to set aside something of the world for 40 days and pursue Him a bit more, or to focus on Him as our deepest need.

The 40 day period is intended to reflect the 40 days that Jesus spent in the wilderness, where He faced and overcame Satan's tempting. But I also like two other 40s in connection to lent: the 40 years of the Israelites travelling to the Promised Land, and the 40 days that Moses spent up on Mount Sinai in the presence of God. My hope for myself and all of you this lent is that we would be incredibly blessed as we journey with God and pursue more of His presence...

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RDM #13 - Day of Ash

It has been about 5 months since I did a Rainy Day Monday post. For those of you who don't know what that it, it means that on Mondays I post an old blog post of my own, or someone elses, that perhaps didn't get as much recognition as it deserved. I have decided to start again, and have been stockpiling a few ideas.

If anyone has any old posts that they would like me to feature, please e-mail me at sharkbait@webmail.co.za. I will be contacting some people for permission to use posts that stuck in my memory, but feel free to volunteer something as well.

To re-open the RDM vaults, I will be posting an entry I did last year for Ash Wednesday. Technically Ash Wednesday is only on... well, Wednesday. But I thought you might want to look at it before then. So just ignore the fact that I refer to Ash Wednesday as today.

Day of Ash

I am sure I am not telling you anything you don't know by saying that today is Ash Wednesday. If I am, then... now you know. Technically known as the day of ash, this is an opportunity for Christians to attend a special church service, which includes the imposition of ashes on their forehead as a sign of penitence, and preparation for lent.

The ashes are made by burning the palm crosses and fronds left over from Palm Sunday last year. That's right; we burn last year's crosses, and keep the ashes to put on our heads this year.

Why?

Well there are many theological explanations for this, but I am just a simple FISH, and so this is how I like to see it.

Palm Sunday was the day the crowds welcomed Jesus in to the city by waving palm branches. Then five days later they cried out for his crucifixion. Five days! The same people; some of them probably still had splinters of palm branches in the hands that they made into fists to shake at Pilate. So wearing the palm cross on my forehead, reminds me of the times that I have acclaimed Jesus as lord of my life, and then turned around and betrayed him with my next breathe. The 40 days when I am figuratively wearing the ash, is 40 days where I need to focus myself on preparing myself for Easter, and my own response. 40 days where I need to try and draw closer to him, and remind myself what he did for me, and my own guilt in making it necessary. 40 days where I need to keep that 'splinter' in my proverbial hand, as a reminder not to be part of the crowd calling for his crucifixion.

Of course, that's just what it means to me.

Day of sack, day of ash.
As we burn last year’s sins,
And wear them on our brow.
So we carry other’s burdens,
and hope to lighten our own.
Day of Ash by DavidSeven

Rainy Day Monday #11 – Real Love

For those of you who are new to my blog, Rainy Day Mondays are Mondays where I feature an old post from my own page, or a friend’s page; usually one which was published early on before that blogger had many followers.

This week I will be posting a blog post entitled Real Love from Building His Body by Anne Lang Bundy. Once you have finished reading here, go over to her blog and say hello.

REAL LOVE

real love fully accepts a person "as is"
real love sees beyond appearances to the heart of a person
real love sees evil and remembers that all humanity’s got the disease
real love sees the evil in another and looks past it to the good
real love sees the evil that causes hurt and challenges it to get out
real love sees the good in a person and challenges it to come forth
real love sees every person as made in the image of God
real love knows every person is as special as God makes ME feel
real love knows EVERYONE suffers from inferiority complex and needs validation
real love speaks truthfully, without overdoing it
real love sees the pain another carries and draws close to help carry it
real love discovers the right way to meet another’s need
real love recognizes a heart feeling emptiness and offers what will fill it
real love gratefully accepts imperfect gifts given with sincerity
real love remembers to say "thank you"
real love stands ready to says "yes"
real love says "no" when it’s truly best
real love isn’t irritated by the irritating
real love finds the right outlet to dissolve anger instead of burying it or lashing out
real love says "I’m hurt" without causing hurt
real love means that when I know I’ve caused hurt, I hurt too
real love knows it’s EVER needing to say "I’m sorry"
real love knows saying "I’m sorry" means most when it comes with "I was wrong"
real love forgives completely
real love knows what and how to forget
real love knows what and how to remember
real love wants to share what’s most treasured
real love knows that real love means real sacrifice
real love will sacrifice even what’s most dear
real love is willing to go to the grave
real love goes past the grave into eternity
real love loves without dependence on being loved back
real love loves even those who seem unlovable
real love is usually simple but rarely easy ...
... and PERFECT love does not fear
The ultimate REAL LOVE is God’s love. In fact, the Bible says that God is love. History’s greatest "I love you" was written in blood on a hill called Calvary, sent by Almighty God from His throne in heaven as a gift to you personally.
God knows that the evil in our hearts would ruin heaven. Only the blood of Jesus has the power to wipe out sin and clean up our hearts. There’s NO WAY the Father would have allowed His Son to die the way He did if Jesus’ blood hadn’t been absolutely necessary to clear the way for His love. He won’t impose this gift on anyone who won’t admit that it’s needed and doesn’t believe it’s real. He asks those who trust and accept His gift of love and salvation to remember and value it, and to keep trusting in Him and His love.
The same amount of love it took to send Jesus to Calvary is the same amount of love God wants YOU to have from Him EVERY day. If you’re not feeling His love right now, take a moment and ask the Lord to show you if there’s anything between the two of you that’s hindering the flow of His love, that you need to get rid of. Then allow His REAL LOVE to fill your heart. We don’t have to deserve God’s love (He loves us in spite of ourselves!)—we only have to be willing to receive it.
Whenever you want to know more of God’s love, read His love letter to you (the Bible). Talk with Him, tell Him you’re sorry for the times you don’t pay attention Him, tell Him you love Him, and ask Him to show you as much of His love as you can handle. When you’ve received His love, you can prolong it and multiply its power by sharing real love with others—EVERY day.
And we have seen and testify that
the Father sent the Son to be the Savior of the world.
Whoever shall confess that Jesus is the Son of God,
God dwells in him and he in God.
And we have known and believed
the love that God has in us.
God is love,
and he who abides in love abides in God,
and God in him.
In this is our love made perfect,
that we may have boldness in the day of judgment,
that as He is, so also we are in this world.
There is no fear in love,
but perfect love casts out fear,
because fear has torment.
He who fears has not been perfected in love.
We love Him because He first loved us ...
And we have this commandment from Him,
that he who loves God should love his brother also.
~ 1John 4:14-19,21 (MKJV)

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RDM # 10 – ….why butterflies?

How many are your works, O LORD!
In wisdom you made them all;
the earth is full of your creatures
Psalm 104:24

It’s a pretty cool verse, but it’s also a pretty theme for a blog.  My friend Michelle over at ~ Psalm 104:24 ~ describes herself as a ..

Believer
wife
mama
sinner
treehuggin'
free spirit
peacemaker
dreamer
tattoo lovin'
nature freak
music lovin'
child of The King.

She uses a butterfly as her avatar, and if you want to know why, you’ll have to read her blog post entitled…

.....why butterflies?

So I have been trying to think about what my first "real" entry would be......and my mind went blank.....for once.

I guess I can start by why I am fascinated with butterflies.......as it kinda sums up how I feel about who I am and the amazing grace of God.

So I take a look at the life cycle of a butterfly.....particularly the Swallowtail butterfly. When the Swallowtail is born in the caterpillar stage....it is hideous. It's not even a cute fluffy caterpillar like the wooly bear or even the brilliantly patterned monarch.....no, it looks like a slimy ugly slug. So I guess I relate to my life before Christ as ugly....I wasn't a bad person actually......I believe I was a good person for the most part......but made my share of bad choices, that now looking back......made me ugly. Not necessarily ugly in the natural (hopefully not sounding conceited, lol)......but ugly in the spiritual. I made choices that I am sure where hurtful to God and to others,......and myself. But as God keeps that ugly slug caterpillar safe from hungry birds and frogs and also sheltered from the elements which could easily end his journey early......He protected me and kept me safe during some reckless times.....all without me even knowing it. That is how awesome Our Father is.

The next part of the caterpillar's journey brings him to his chrysalis where he is transformed. I believe that God can bring transformation into your life in many ways......some people are faced with a life changing event (hence the name.....life changing) such as death of a loved one, news of a terminal illness or being spared from death. Others can witness God's love in a positive scenario and feel and embrace the transformation ever so gently.

My transformation came about through an angel here on earth named Lili. We became friends through our husbands who were 80's rock and roll guys. Her husband was in a Christian rock band and my husband, who also was a spandex wearing, AquaNet using rocker.... ran sound for their band when he wasn't on stage himself. There is a special warmth when you are around Lili and we quickly became friends. Her laughter is contagious and she radiates love from within. She doesn't need to wear any t-shirt or piece of jewelry......she walks the walk of Jesus.

So fast forward to her asking Josh and I to be her son Kelub's godparents.....I look back and wonder why she would consider me,......again, I wasn't a bad person....but felt that surely she must have known someone more "godly" to take on the role of a "godparent" in her circle of friends. She must have gotten the memo from God as He didn't see who I "was"........He knew who I could (and was supposed to) "be".

So we went to her church for the ceremony.......and that is where I was drawn to my chrysalis.....I walked into the building, pretty much expecting an event consisting of rituals, kneeling and quiet repentance/prayer.......can you tell how I was raised? Instead......it was a sanctuary of life and love! A contemporary band was playing, people were dancing and singing in the aisles......it was pure joy. I felt a peace come over me......and although I was in a place I have never been before, I felt such a sense of familiarity and comfort..... I know it was God and the angels embracing me and singing "Welcome Home". A whirlwind of emotions came over me......I was smiling and within minutes, I was crying......it was a happy kind of cry......and I really didn't even understand why I was filled with such overwhelming emotion.

So just as the chrysalis stage is a process, so was my transformation into becoming a Christ follower. It wasn't something that just hit me like a bolt of lightening at that church ceremony ......it was more like I yearned to be in that comforting place again. And I found that the more I searched to learn more about God.....the more comfort/peace I was blessed with. The more I dove into searching for Him, the more humbled I felt as I realizes how much He has done already in my life and it was only then, that I gave Him ALL the glory. I gave him all the glory for bring Josh into my life, blessing me with four healthy children, just everything that we sometimes take for granted.

Accepting God fully into your life can bring such joy and happiness....but it also came with the process of change...and change can be very uncomfortable. We, as humans.....are creatures of habit, so change isn't always easy. My ways and my thoughts were not going to be magically converted. No, although God can make it easy to "do the right thing"......it was something that I had to make a conscious effort.....and I do know that at times, it was painful to reflect on my past sins and ask God for forgiveness. I also had to (and still do) ask God for guidance and wisdom every day.

When metamorphosis has taken place, the next step is emerging into it's "new life"........the process can be painful and scary.....but when we witness the awesome life that awaits us.....it is worth all the struggles we must endure. As a butterfly, the ugly caterpillar is born again and has the chance to represent it's Creator, with all His beautiful glory. Just as people marvel at the beauty of a butterfly's wings......we should display God's beauty in our actions and day to day living. I don't think Lili realizes how she represents God's glory with her beauty, inside and out......and I hope I can do the same and bless others. I hope that someday I can help bring others to their own chrysalis/transformation and welcome Christ into their lives.

So, yeah....that not so short story, is how I look at my "new" life as God's child.......He has given me a chance to experience a new life in Him.....and made me beautiful in His image, just like the beautiful wings of a butterfly.

How amazing Our Creator is that He can turn this

...............into this

WOW, this turned into a long story......I guess when I am talking about subjects that I am so passionate about, I lose track of time......so if you are still reading this......thank you for my first therapy session.
Peace and love~
Michelle

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RDM #9 – My Idiot Brother Keeps putting his foot on My Side.

Monday again, and thankfully it’s not really raining.  (At least not when I am writing this.)

One of the blogs I follow is The Church of No People.  I like the premise, and the name, which derives from the fact that, in the words of the author Matt “in the real world, I pastor a church. People show up on Sundays to hear the brilliant thoughts pour out of my mind. This blog is kind of like a church. Except that there are no people. It's the Church of No People.”  His theory is that since no one comes to the church, he can say what he really thinks, without having to worry about it being “fit for Sunday consumption” 

Unfortunately this theory is rather destroyed by the fact that he has over 200 followers. 

However, once upon a time, he had none.  And back in the distant past (last November) he posted a pretty cool post called My Idiot Brother Keeps putting his foot on My Side.  It’s very similar to the sermon we had in church this week, and is still fresh in my mind as I type this.  I hope you like it as much as I do.

My Idiot Brother Keeps Putting His Foot on My Side

Today, I was contemplating the great times I had with my family when my brother and I were kids and we went on family vacations. Mostly, these vacations consisted of going to see the grandparents, who lived several hours away. We went on only a couple of real vacations, but those are another story.

Now, with two boys sitting in the back seat of a car (no minivan, something I'm very proud of my parents for in hindsight) with a small dog and several items to keep us occupied, space was at a premium. There wasn't a lot of room for stretching out. Naturally, we did what any civilized eight year olds would do. We drew an imaginary line down the middle of the car, which neither of us was allowed to cross or allow our stuff to cross on threat of severe penalty.

And naturally, the line was always crossed. One of us would feel the need to stretch out, or my brother's stupid stuff would fall over the line into enemy territory. This breach of personal space was always quickly met with a punch in the arm. Then a quarrel would briefly break out, causing Dad to yell at us. He always addressed us as 'boys,' although I always contended that he should be addressing just my brother, as he was the always the culprit.

So we'd return to our sides, not touching each other. One would go back to his book or game. But something would stir in the corner of his eye. He would turn to find a finger pointed at him, less than two inches from his face.

"Not touching. Can't get mad."

Of course, the phrase 'can't get mad' never really seemed to work, as this phrase always incited carnal rage. We'd pull this on each other, following the letter of the law our Dad had laid down but not the spirit of the law. The spirit of the law was to sit down, shut up, and keep your mitts to yourself for the rest of the trip. We chose to simply 'not touch each other.'

Thus we felt we were righteous for following instructions, even while inflicting delicious suffering on each other. Jesus chided the Pharisees for trying ever so hard to follow the letter of the law, but always missing the spirit of the law. Now Christians are under the New Covenant, where there is no law, but we find ourselves often in a similar situation on the other side of the fence. It is easy to throw out the law, but what we forget is that many of God's laws still have relevant life applications today. We ignore the spirit of the law, because we believe we are not under the letter of the law.

What rules have I throw out in my lust to 'assert' myself as a free man of Christ?

Please leave a comment here, or go visit Matt’s blog.  If you are taking part in Rainy Day Monday, collect the badge, and put your link in Mister Linky.  (Assuming Mister Linky is working today.)

 

RDM #8 - Golden Noise

Another one from my archives. I've been doing a lot of writing and poetry lately, so I thought I would pull one of my poems out and dust it off. It's short, but who really wants to read too much this early on a Monday morning?

GOLDEN NOISE

So I wrote this poem a while ago, and tonight at my bible study group I started thinking about it. How often do we ignore the call for our lives, because we are afraid of what it will mean for us. Do we really want to hear GOD? Sometimes I am not sure.

In silence we hear
The Call to our own true self.
Hence the noise we make.

For more of my poetry, check out my other page, or go to fictionpress.

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RDM #7 - The Monk on the Hill

So this week I am going to cheat slightly. If you’ve been following for a while, then you know that Rainy Day Monday is a day for me to pull an old post out of my blog, or a friend’s blog, that was perhaps overlooked, often because it was posted before they had many followers. Today’s post is in fact the first post by someone I know, but it is also his last post. It is in fact less than two weeks old, and is the start of a new blog. I thought I would feature his blog on RDM before he becomes famous.

John Forbis is a monk. And he lives on a hill. So it is rather appropriate that his new blog is entitled The Monk on the Hill: An Introduction. He is also a poet, and the name comes from one of his poems published last year. I am publishing from his blog today because I really like the poem it contains, and it has some interesting insights about writing.

Go and visit his site and welcome him to the blogging world. That will really freak him out, especially when he finds out he is being followed by a fish. :-)

AN INTRODUCTION

Welcome to my site. I am an Anglican Benedictine monk living as part of the community at Mariya uMama weThemba Monastery. This monastery is a house of the Order of the Holy Cross, in Grahamstown, South Africa. Grahamstown is a university town and includes many other excellent primary and high schools. This population is about 40,000 to about 50,000 people when all the students are here. Our monastery is located in a rural area just outside of the town on 50 hectares of land. We are blessed with beautiful fauna, flora, scenic landscapes and exotic wildlife. Very few flat places. Our work consists of prayer first and foremost. Then, we provide a ministry of Benedictine hospitality to guests who come from all walks of life from all over the world. Organically growing out of both of these is our hospitality to the people and particularly children of the immediate area. We help children to have better educations from primary school on up to a tertiary education. This work includes the establishment and administration of scholarships and an intensive After-School tutoring programme. So naturally we are pretty busy.

My position here consists of providing the publicity for all of these projects and the news of our monastery. I edit a newsletter named Uxolo, published bi-annually and maintain the news for our website, http://www.umaria.co.za/. I am also the novice master who is responsible for helping people discern their vocation to the monastic life as well as forming new men when they join our community.

So I was a bit reticent about beginning a blog. Would I have the time or the energy to maintain it? But the other thing I do is to write. I write every day whether it be poetry or any other piece of writing. Some of it has been published. Some of it has not. Some of it is garbage. (Don't worry. I don't plan to inflict you with it.) And some of it is well written. Such is the nature of writing every day. You have to dig through the mud and sand to get to the pearls. Some of those pearls are the mud and sand, just in a different more refined form. After some thinking, I realise that maintaining a page would not be quite the burden that I thought it would be.

I have named my blog The Monk on the Hill, with a nod to Paul McCartney and John Lennon's song, The Fool on the Hill. But it is also the title of one of my poems. It evokes the expanse and beauty of the hills in which we are settled as well as this beautiful country, South Africa. Hope you enjoy this site and if you have comments, I would accept them.

I thought it seemed only appropriate to post as my first piece of writing the title poem of the site. I wrote it a number of years ago as a reflection of the whimsical nature of many of our children. They instil in me a childlike desire for the impossible.

The Monk on the Hill

When the wind lifts the scapular of the monk standing on the crest of a hill
he thinks he could fly .

A small child wanting to come with him
grabs hold from behind
keeping them both earth-bound
to dust and dry grass.

The monk's habit is smudged
by tiny feet
climbing on his shoulders,

as if together they were a
flightless bird.

(published in New Coin)

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