Rest For the Meek

Hannah Whitall Smith's words come to me this morning, an echo of words I had written in a notebook only a week ago:

"The greatest burden we have to carry in life is self."

The words in my notebook were from A.W. Tozer:

"Our burden is interior. It attacks the heart and the mind and reaches the body only from within. First there is the burden of pride. The labor of self-love is a heavy one indeed. The heart's fierce effort to protect itself from every slight, to shield its touchy honor from the bad opinion of friend and enemy will never let the mind have rest. 
Jesus calls us to rest, and meekness is His method."

" Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls." 
Matthew 11:28,29

We work hard to find rest in the midst of lives with to-do lists a mile long. We write about it, take pictures of it and set aside days to practice it. The rest Jesus offers is a state of being. It is rest in the turmoil of daily living. He says we can find it by being meek.

It is not the meekness of a down-trodden life He speaks of. It is the meekness of seeing rightly who we are in Him. It is the meekness that cares nothing for the approval of others and doesn't envy the successes of others. It is a meekness that as Tozer writes: "...has long ago decided that the esteem of the world is not worth the effort." It is hard work, this seeking a nod and a pat on the back from the world. It means putting on a self that tries to be all things to all people.

When we are truly meek (humble), we see our own smallness against God's greatness, and at the same time see the infinite worth He places on our individual lives. "In himself nothing; in God everything." The world may never see us as our Father sees us. When we come to the place where His opinion matters more than theirs', we will find rest; when what we appear to be to others is of less importance that what we are in Him, we will find rest. 

It is a heavy burden, this caring who I am in the eyes of others, but it takes great courage not to. Jesus asks us to exchange the yoke of pride and pretense for His yoke of finding our worth in Him.

"It will take some courage at first, but the needed grace will come as we learn that we are sharing this new and easy yoke with the strong Son of God Himself. he calls it 'My yoke,' and He walks at one end while we walk at the other."

Linking to my sweet friend Jennifer today:



Blessings,
Linda

quotes taken from "The Pursuit of God" by A.W. Tozer

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The Treasure of Our Art

So I'm writing this book (Oh the audacity!), the one I've been dreaming about for years and years. I thought it would be an agonizingly painful process - you know, the tortured artist and all that - but I am having the best time. The people who lived in my head have come to life, and I like them. I plotted a story line for them to follow, but they occasionally have ideas of their own. So we take a little turn. Sometimes I'm just along for the ride. It's fun.

But here's the problem. A little something has been jumping up and down in the back of my mind - vying for attention. It says things like, "Why are you spending so much time writing.....fiction?" It's true. It does take a lot of time. I have a lot less time to visit blogs and leave comments. I'm sort of neglecting my friends.

It's also true that it isn't a deeply spiritual book. It's just a little story with some spiritual things mixed in. And the other thing is....I'm not really a writer. I think I'm just pretending. The odds of this book getting published are slim to none. It is taking a lot of time (as I think I mentioned), and I'm not getting any younger.

Enter the One who is the maker of dreams. He left me a little message this morning that I want to pass along to everyone who dreams a dream, who loves to create and sometimes wonders:

"To lay up treasure in heaven is to do arts which promote, or belong to, the kingdom of God, and what our Lord assures us of is that any act of our hands, any thought of our heart, any word of our lips, which promotes the divine kingdom by the ordering whether of our own life or of the world outside - all such activity, though it may seem for the moment to be lost, is really stored up in the divine treasure-house; and when the heavenly city, the New Jerusalem, shall at last appear, that honest effort of ours, which seemed so ineffectual, shall be found to be a brick built into that eternal and celestial fabric."
Charles Gore

Carry on dreaming dreams and making art, and using the lovely gifts He has placed within you. Wrap them up and give them, a gift from your heart, to Him, and let Him do with them what He will. He may wrap a child in a blanket made with your hands; He may encourage a heart with a note you've sent; He may bring joy to the world with works of art you've created - He only asks that we do it for Him.

Blessings,
Linda

Potential

The time had come for us to move from our home of twenty-eight years. My husband began looking for just the right place to build what we hoped would be out last house. He looked for weeks, checking every possible listing in our area. Everything he saw was either already sold or  not what we were looking for.

About the time we felt like giving up, he found five acres he thought would be perfect. They were on a corner, and the land was completely  flat. He called the real estate agent  immediately praying no one had gotten there before us. This time it all worked out. We were the first to call, and eventually we were able to purchase the land...

The "rest of the story" will be at Laced With Grace on Friday.  I would love to have you visit me there.

Blessings,
Linda

A Change

We have been delighted to have two of the most beautiful, talented, sweet......well you know, Granddaughters here for the past couple of days. No writing - just luxuriating in all the joy.

I do have a little "programming note" of sorts. I've switched my comment format back to blogger from disqus. In the process, I lost all the comments from the time I began using disqus. However, if it allows all my friends to be recognized and lets them leave a comment - I am content.

I am sorry for my disloyal behavior dear blogger. I don't think I'll try to be fancy any more.


Blessings,
Linda

Today/Tomorrow

In this life we are bound by the constraints of time. Minutes spill into hours into days into weeks, months and years. Before the clock begins to tick we are given our full measure. The moment we draw our first breath the minutes begin their relentless march toward eternity.

Most days I long to slow them down. I've learned how quickly they slip through my fingers. But as August slips into September I find myself rushing ahead. I say things like: "In a couple of months, I'll be able to plant the fall flower garden. I can't wait for cooler weather." Or: "Just two more months until Lisa comes for a visit." I push the days filled with possibility aside and long for tomorrow.

When I look back through the years, I see how often I've squandered the moments wishing for tomorrow. If I had had my way, I would have missed miracle moments with my first baby, longing for the time I could get a full night's sleep. On and on it goes, rushing toward what looks somehow better and running the risk of missing what truly matters.

So I'm taking a deep breath and stepping into another hot day, because granddaughters are coming to spend the night tomorrow. If I wish my way into October, it may be cooler - but oh the joy I would have missed.

Blessings,
Linda


Linking to sweet Laura's blog:

Mercy

"He has shown you, O man, what is good;
And what does the Lord require of you
But to do justly,
To love mercy,
And to walk humbly with your God?"
 Micah 6:8

The Quality of Mercy

The quality of mercy is not strain'd.
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest:
It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes.
'Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown.
His scepter shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
But mercy is above this sceptered sway;
It is enthroned in the heart of kings;
It is an attribute to God himself;
And earthly power doth then show likest God's
When mercy seasons justice.

William Shakespeare

 

 Grace is getting what I don't deserve - and mercy is not getting what I do deserve. 

Mercy - compassionate or kindly forbearance shown toward an offender, an enemy, or other person in one's power; compassion, pity, or benevolence

Joining the Sunday Community at my sweet friend Deidra's today

 

Blessings,
Linda

Speak Lord

"Speak, Lord, in the stillness
 while I wait on Thee;
 Hush'd my heart to listen,
 in expectancy."

 Elizabeth Cheney

Joining my dear friend Sandy:



Blessings,
Linda

Stretching For the Dream

Our word for this week's Five Minute Friday is "stretch."

start:

It was nearly thirty years ago. The last little one had gone off to school, and I had hours in my hand to use in any way I chose. In the afternoon, I would sit on the front porch, notebook in hand and write the poems I had been storing up all those years.

Then came the announcement in the church newsletter - a writers group. I timidly took myself and my notebook and found a group with dreams like mine. It was like heaven.

Years later, the members had gone their separate ways, but a little seed of a dream had been planted in my heart. I bought a book about writing a mystery. I read it. It sat in the little cubby hole in my desk for a dozen years or more.

Several months ago the little seed began to rub up against the wall of my heart. I told it not to be silly. I was a blogger now. I read other blogs. They were the real writers. I was absolutely not in that league.

But the rubbing continued, and I asked the Maker of dreams if He was in favor of this one. He said He was. And so I began. It has been pure joy. The words form on the screen and people come to life who have lived somewhere in my imagination for a very long time.

I don't imagine anything will come of it, but it will be a dream fulfilled - just the doing of it. I'll print out a couple of copies for my husband and my Mom (who have been my cheering section as they read the pages) and feel as though I've stretched myself right up to the top of that mountain.

stop

Linking to Lisa-Jo today.



Blessings,
Linda

A Little Touch of Love

He called before they got to the house, so I knew. When they pulled into the driveway and carefully made their way through the garage and into the house, I could see it in their faces. Mom looking a wee bit exasperated; Dad wearing a sheepish grin.

He remembered putting his wallet into the basket of the motorized scooter at the big warehouse store. When he got home, it wasn't in his pocket where it belonged. They stopped at the store on the way to our house, but no one had turned in a wallet. They checked in the lost and found.

Mom and I sat on either end of the couch - Dad in the little armchair across from us. While she made the call to the credit card company, he went over and over the events of the morning. He scratched his head and smiled, berating himself for his forgetfulness. We tried to reassure him - telling our own stories.

My heart hurt a little as I looked at him. This Dad who had always seemed larger than life. The one who never backed down when he knew he was right; the one who boldly stood alone when truth was on the line; the one who would argue with me just for the fun of it ("I just wanted to see if you really believed what you were saying.") - and he seemed so small and vulnerable. I, the little girl who had ridden high on his shoulder, wanted to somehow lift him u[ on mine.

Three days later, on a hot sunny Sunday, we went out to dinner to celebrate Mom's 89th birthday. We had a lovely dinner - just the four of us (Mom, Dad, Steve and I). As it turns out, the big warehouse store, the scene of the forgetful incident, was right behind the restaurant.

"I'm just going to stop and run inside to see if anyone has turned in your wallet," said my husband.

A chorus of negativity greeted his optimistic statement. "No one is going to turn it in after all this time. Whoever took it just took the money and threw the wallet away. Don't bother. It's too hot!"

Not one to be easily discouraged, my husband pulled into a shady area, and went into the store. We all watched as he made his way back to the car a few minutes later - empty handed.

"No wallet huh?"

He delivered the line with a straight face, "Yes, they have it. They won't give it to me. Dad will have to come in and get it."

Several minutes later we continued the drive home, Dad's wallet tucked safely in his pocket. Not one single thing was missing - not even the cash.

Mom summed it up for all of us. "I've been praying someone would find it and turn it in. God answers prayer."

Yes He does. And He always does it with blessings we hadn't thought to ask for. He gave Dad a little something extra that day.

Joining my sweet friend Jennifer today:



blessings,
Linda

Picture: Dad and our oldest son

Passionate

They elbow their way in, vying for space among the words that feed my soul. They run the gamut - thoughtful to mindless, civil to rant, right to left - those political opinions.

For the most part I ignore them - having determined a long time ago not to write about my political views here (I don't think there is anything wrong with writing about them, it is just a choice I've made.) That is not to say I don't have them or do not feel passionately about them. I most certainly do - more so this year than ever before.

Perhaps that's why some of those snippets that make their way onto the places I visit online cause me to toss and turn at night and mutter under my breath during my waking hours. I want desperately to convince them of the error of their ways. I consider changing my rule and write mental treatises eloquently stating the reasons I believe as I do. And of course, in my imagination, they all read them and are converted.

Converted - the idea brings me up short, and I wonder at my passionate (ardent, fervent, fiery, vehement) response. Of course, these things are important - but the most important? Am I as passionate (ardent, fervent, fiery, vehement) about my faith? Do I toss and turn at night with the knowledge that some within the sphere of my influence don't know my Savior? Does the thought of eternity stay with me all day - a desperate wish to share the truth with those for whom it hangs in the balance?

If I am honest, the answer is no. Oh - I give it mental ascent and write the posts and go through the motions, but the passion is sadly lacking. I want to be light and salt - but not too bright or salty please. Wouldn't it make all the difference if hearts were changed instead of minds? Wouldn't changed hearts lead to changed lives?

Forgive me, Father, for complacency - for casually believing that somehow it is for others with a unique "calling" to be passionate about the things that burn in Your heart. Give me a passion for souls.

Blessings,
Linda

His Peace

I have known the promise since I was a little girl. Giving our cares to Jesus brings peace. I understood it in the context of a happy childhood. It sounded nice, and I believed it.

Life has a way of taking lofty ideas and flinging them down to earth. Reality flies in the face of memory verses and doubt elbows its way in. It's possible to shove it down into a dark corner of the heart, but inevitably something will happen that makes it impossible to ignore.

When it happened for me, it quite literally knocked the foundation of all I had so blithely assumed I believed right out from under me. How could a good God allow this? What is the point of praying if God is going to turn a deaf ear to my desperate cry for help? Peace was the farthest thing from my mind. It felt like a storm was raging in my heart.

I'm not sure what I was thinking. Perhaps I thought I would make God feel so bad  He would make things the way I wanted them.  Whatever it was, I decided to shut Him out. If He wasn't going to answer my prayers, I would just stop praying. So I did.

Nothing changed. I had turned my back and walked away, and He was silent. Days of silence born of disappointment and anger turned to weeks. I wouldn't allow myself to acknowledge it, but He was at work inexorably drawing my heart back. I came to the place of choosing - Him or ..... Or what? What my heart knew finally reached my head - there was no place for me to go apart from Him.

I turned and, dragging my feet, began the journey back (Oh how patient He is.). I released what I had never had any control over into His hands, trusting Him to do what was best. Nothing changed - not outwardly in any case. But as the days slipped by I realized the storm in my heart had calmed. Incredibly, I wondered if there was something wrong with me because I was no longer worried and upset.

He gently whispered, "Peace." Yes, peace. It had come without any effort on my part - a gift wrapped in a promise given long ago. 

^"Don't fret or worry. Instead of worrying, pray. Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns. Before you know it, a sense of God's wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down. It's wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life."
Philippians 4:6,7 (The Msg)

Linking to Duane's blog today:



Blessings,
Linda

Change

“Everything changes
but change.”*
I cling to
same
fearing what
I cannot see;
finding comfort
in my
normal.

Hanging on,
with tight-fisted grip,
feigning control.
Still it comes,
Ripping world apart,
and I crumble
under weight I
cannot bear.

He is in the change
holding it in
unseen hands,
allowing it access
into my life.
Peace comes as,
with open hands,
I surrender to
change
and learn to trust.

*from the song "I wish You Enough" by Janet Paschal and Joel Lindsey

Blessings,
Linda

repost from 2010

He Sees

The streets and sidewalks of this great city were quiet on the morning we took this walk, gasping for breath as we climbed one hill after another.

It was a different scene on the day we arrived, a busy, bustling saturday afternoon. The beautiful weather had drawn everyone outdoors, and it was hard to walk against the press of people all around us.

The air was filled with the harmony of different languages blended together into one lovely melody. The different races and nationalities formed a colorful human rainbow. We took a seat to watch them all walk by - so many of them - and I thought about the Father who knows each one by name.

"How is it possible, Lord?" I thought. So many, and this is just one small corner of your great big world. How can You see us all; know every heart; hear every whispered prayer; love each one with such longing?

It seems impossible, and yet that is just what He does. He sees each one of us as though we were His only child. I was reminded of this when I read just what I needed to hear from Him the other morning. Always, He supplies what I need. I am only one, and yet He gives me His undivided attention every moment of every day.

I have wrestled with the question of suffering and unanswered prayer and trust. It is, I find, a long journey in understanding. Just when you think you have made it to the end of the road, you find it is only a sharp curve that leads you further still. Longing for help and reassurance, I read Elisabeth Elliot's words:

"Instead of seeing His everlasting love, tenderly bending down to our humanness, longing over each one of us with a father's speechless longing, we sometimes think of Him as indifferent, inaccessable or just plain unfair.

The worst pains we experience are not those of the suffering itself but of our stubborn resistance to it, our resolute insistence on our independence. To be "crucified with Christ" means what Oswald Chambers calls "breaking the husk" of that independence. 'Has that break come?' he asks. 'All the rest is pious fraud.' And you and I know, in our heart of hearts, that that sword-thrust...is the straight truth.

If we reject this cross, we will not find it is this world again. Here is the opportunity offered. Be patient. Wait on the Lord for whatever He appoints, wait quietly, wait trustingly. He holds every minute of every hour of every day of every week of every month of every year in His hands. Thank Him in advance for what the future holds, for He is already there. 'Lord you have assigned me my portion and my cup' (Ps 16:5). Shall we not gladly say, 'I'll take it , Lord! YES! I'll trust you for everything. Bless the Lord, O my soul!"

There it always is - trust. Not simply trust, however, but trust in One Who loves me with a love beyond measure. He loved me so much He sent His Son to die in my place. Is it not a love worthy of my trust? Yes, and so much more.

Blessings,
Linda

repost from the 2009 archives

Still

Linking to my two friends today:





Blessings,
Linda

Six Year Blogiversary

 This is a celebratory day of sorts, and it nearly got by me. Six years ago today I began blogging. I can hardly believe it's been that long - really! I have received so much more than I have given. I have met some of the most amazing people I have ever known. Their love, faith, encouragement and friendship have enriched my life beyond measure.

"They" are you. Thank you dear friends for the gift of sharing your lives with me. I am immeasurably better for having you in my life.

What follows is, for better or worse, the very first post I wrote as a brand new blogger:

I've been a Christian since I was a litle girl, but I find that even with that "headstart" there are so many lessons that are very difficult to learn. It was a time when I desperately wanted the Lord to do something for us.

.I prayed fervently, had others pray, sought counsel, did everything I knew to do, and heaven was silent. Then one morning as I was sweeping the kitchen floor, it was as though an audible voice spoke to my heart, "All right Linda. I have heard your prayers, and I have a question for you. Do you want me to give you what you've asked for, or do you want My will in this very difficult situation?"

It was, for me, a life-changing moment. I knew then that no matter how desperately I felt I needed something, if I truly loved the Lord as I said I did and believed His word, what I truly wanted more than anything else was His will. Our situation didn't change, but I did. I gave it to the Lord, and He gave me all I needed.

So....lesson learned - or maybe not. *We have recently had something come into our lives that has eclipsed anything we have ever faced. There were times I felt as though the weight of it had buried me alive. I had dreaded it for months; prayed so hard that God would deliver us from it. However, my worst nightmare came true, and I was devastated. I felt such disappointment with God, I couldn't pray for a very long time.

He never gave up on me. He patiently waited until I knew that there was nowhere else to run but to Him. When I finally did, I came face to face with what is so basic in my relationship with the Lord.

Do I trust Him? Do I trust that He will indeed work all things together for our good. Do I believe He loves us with a love that knows no bounds? Do I believe He is in control and wasn't taken by surprise by any of this? I do. I believe He is who He says He is, and I believe He can do what He says He can do (Yes, I did that Beth Moore "Believing God" Bible study.).

 Perhaps the miracle is waiting for us some time in the future; perhaps He has a different purpose in all of this. I only know I must trust Him, because without Him nothing makes sense. He is my hope and my joy. He has given me that peace that passes understanding. It is truly a miracle. I thought there would never be joy or peace or hope again. I was wrong. He is all those things and more. He knew us before the foundations of the earth, and He has a plan - to prosper us, not to harm us. He is so very good.

*Keep in mind this was six years ago.

Blessings, Linda

Picture: header from my first blog

A Sweet Aroma

It is growing wild on the side of the road. It doesn't look like much - rather like an overgrown weed. I have no idea what it is called. It sits just at the base of one of the little hills we climb on our walk.

It isn't until you get within a few feet of it that its most redeeming characteristic becomes apparent. The air is filled with the fragrance of a sweet perfume. The image of an elegant lady walking by fills my imagination. It is just beautiful and changes that simple plant into something quite special.

Oh that my life would be like that - a sweet fragrance to those around me and to my heavenly Father. The outward appearance is of little significance. It is the fragrance of my life - the offering of myself in service and submission to Him - that blesses others.

"But thanks be to God, who always leads us in His triumph in Christ, and manifests through us the sweet aroma of the knowledge of Him in every place.
For we are a fragrance of Christ to God among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing;"
II Corinthians 2:14-15

Blessings,
Linda 

a repost from April 2009