Reprieve - A Heart at Rest

Today has been a much needed reprieve. A quieting. A day where the joy that has been so hard to find could break through a little. A day for mischievous humor. A day for laughter. For Vietnamese food. For remembering who I am, and that I am loved, by God and by some very special people. For resting in all those things.

And so, I'm sitting here, in the chair in the corner of my bedroom. The spot where I come to sit and reflect. To read and pray.

Hillsong United's "The I Heart Revolution" is playing in the background. Worship recorded live all around the world, wrapping itself around my heart and drawing me into a space of prayer.

If you know me well, you could look at the space where I'm sitting right now and know that I'm in a much better heart space than I have been for most of this week. There are certain things that I do, certain signs in my physical space that indicate when my heart is quiet, and ready to meet with Jesus. Things like a tidied bedroom. Like candles lit all around my space. (There is almost always at least one candle burning in my bedroom, but when I light many it's for a different space.) Like a tall mug of tea waiting to be sipped. I do a lot of praying with my hands curled around a mug of tea.

I'm reflecting quietly tonight on a number of things. Spending some time simply sitting and listening. Spending some time talking with Jesus.

I was reading through some old emails this afternoon, and came across a link to a blog post titled "Dipping in Jordan" that my friend Kirk H. wrote just over a year ago. His words caught my heart and attention then, and they caught it again today. He speaks with great poignancy about healing (about freedom). He writes:

.... maybe true healing comes with less flash, less showmanship... maybe it comes in secret, after the praying is 'done' (though really it's never 'done').... maybe we wake up some day & go, "wow, I think I've experienced a miracle" & we wait for weeks to ensure there's no relapse & we don't shout it from the mountaintops 'cause we're really not sure what brought healing... but somewhere in our hearts, we hold on to the secret, the hope that it was a touch of the divine transforming our lives....

.... maybe healing seldom happens in the instant. Maybe it happens more over time. (Maybe I'm full of it & should stop trying to figure it out)....

... I feel a lot like Naaman, though... wanting healing, but wanting the big & flashy instead of wading into dirty old Jordan....

I love this idea of healing. Not the big and flashy (though sometimes, I too, like Naaman want it) but the gentle and simple. I've seen my own healing come in this manner. And I continue to pray that healing and freedom come in this way for my own heart and for the hearts of so many that I love.

This Sunday I'm teaching the passage in John 15 about the vine and the branches to my Sunday School girls. "Abide with me" one translation says. My heart is at rest tonight, learning again to abide in Him.

Opening Lines

I was joking with a friend on the weekend about opening lines for articles and books I could write. It came up because I made a statement that he latched on to. "That would be a great first line for a book!"

Here are a couple of "opening lines" that are bouncing around my head right now. Ideas I'm toying with...

"I was never good at acting, except in church."

"You could say I made a decision for Christ out of lazyness. It was the less labor intensive option."

Thursday Morning Musings

I’ve just finished making my first cup of tea for the week. Those of you who know me well will know that I generally make a cup of “Tazo Passion Tea” first thing in the morning most mornings at the office.

I’ve been sick for most of this week, and even tea has been unappealing. Last night I ate my first actual meal since Sunday dinner, and was delighted to keep it down.

Today is a good day for sipping tea. It’s cold and grey and rainy. In typical Calgary fashion, the rain is scheduled to turn to snow, and we may get up to 20cm before the day is out. 20cm. That’s about 8 inches. They say they don’t know how much of that will actually accumulate, since the ground is warm, but still. It’s May 8th, and they’re predicting 8 inches of snow.

I’m in an oddly humorous mood this morning. Weird things are funny to me.

My internal sarcastic voice is out in force today.

I’m listening to David Crowder Band this morning – a playlist of 3 albums (Illuminate, A Collision, and Remedy).

I’m musing about being small and unseen. About being coddled and babied and not liking it.

I’m wearing a favorite t-shirt and comfortable (but cute) shoes.

I’m rehashing conversations with friends and laughing at the memories.

I’m twitchy.

I’m eating crackers, and debating where I’m going to buy lunch.

I’m thinking about the errands I need to get done tonight.

I’m wondering what my current typing speed is, and if it’s changed in the couple of years that I’ve been working full-time.

I’m debating which item on my “to-do” list for the day I want to attack first.

I’m still thinking about and “seeing” something I witnessed on April 3rd and blogged about here.

Eventually I’ll get around to writing some “deeply thoughtful” blog post for you. My brain has been a little too engrossed in other matters to do “deeply thoughtful” this week. In the meantime, here are a couple of headlines that made me smile today:

Someone in Florida is building what appears to be an "Ark".

And NASA will pay you $5000 dollars a month to do nothing but lie in bed. This is an offer that is actually vaguely tempting!

Sharing our knowledge

Another thought from Henri Nouwen that caught my attention... I've been thinking a lot lately about how often I hesitate to share things I feel, sense, or know. I'm not sure I'm in exactly the space that Nouwen is describing, but the thought challenged me anyhow...

Sharing Freely Our Knowledge

Often we think that we do not know enough to be able to teach others. We might even become hesitant to tell others what we know, out of fear that we won't have anything left to say when we are asked for more.

This mind-set makes us anxious, secretive, possessive, and self-conscious. But when we have the courage to share generously with others all that we know, whenever they ask for it, we soon discover that we know a lot more than we thought. It is only by giving generously from the well of our knowledge that we discover how deep that well is.