Rhythms of Abiding

Lenten musing 8

In all the pre-natal literature that has passed before me, there have been two pieces that have helped the most. The first was a cartoon in a book that said "Labor is work; it hurts; you can do it." The second was an illustration of contractions as a wave.

I'm a few days past due and everyone is eagerly awaiting the arrival of the Mini. My body has taken this time to slowly prepare for labor by having occasional but increasingly strong contractions. This is no big deal when I'm awake but is kind of disruptive when I'm sleeping because I'm awakened and there's nothing else to focus on. I think about the wave and count out 6 slow breaths; two to go up the wave, two for the top, and two coming down and by then the contraction is basically over and I try to go back to sleep.

I was chatting with a friend about being in new or "liminal" spaces, on the cusp of something and the discomfort of being there. For her, it's a new dating relationship. For me, it isn't new parenthood which is still rather abstract, but upcoming professional changes for my husband and I. Everything feels like a struggle because of the uncertainty ahead. We want to act, but there isn't anything to do.

In times like these, I think we are called to the rhythms of abiding which are wave-like. With our eyes, all we see is an uphill path obscured. But when we abide in Christ, we can focus on where we are today and take today's steps leaving tomorrow's steps for tomorrow. As we do this, we are strengthened for each day and find that we have been carried through the uncertainty.

On the upward side of a wave, it seems that there is only up. But as we experience the rhythms of abiding, we learn that God is faithful and we are not left to live in tension indefinitely. Is it difficult, requiring faith to abide on the uphill side? Absolutely. Labor is work; it hurts. But God supports us over the top and takes us to his appointed place. You can do it.

The ups and downs

Lenten musing 7

In all of this we can sometimes get the mistaken impression of uninterrupted progress forward. Even the use of the term "stages" can unwittingly convey the idea of leaving one level for a higher one never to return again. I have not found it to be so. My experience has been much more fluid and undulating. One day I may be experiencing an intimate attention to Christ's presence that is well nigh amazing, and the next day I am in the "Slough of Despond." I can alternate between being meekly submissive and stubbornly rebellious with surprising speed. And I find many of the devotional masters record similar experiences. The stages are not hard and fast. There is a lot of movement back and forth, up and down.

But it is not a spiritual roller coaster either, because through all the motion there is a sense of progress and growth. The feeling of intermittent communion begins to give way to more sustained fellowship. Whereas before the hard thing was to seek his face, more and more the thing is to refrain from seeking him. Slowly and certainly, howbeit with many reversals, knowing God moves from obligation to delight. Although many times we do not pay attention to the holy Whisper, increasingly we do. We are less and less discouraged by our many wanderings in the wilderness because , having tasted the land of promise, we desire it more and more. As much as we may flirt with double-minded living, our real love is singleness of purpose and increasingly it is capturing our heart.
~Foster, Freedom of Simplicity

We're almost a month into Lent and it's been about 3 months since I returned to daily scripture reading. I am definitely feeling this undulating but progressive path toward a more Christ-centered life. I had so much trepidation about returning to regular scripture reading because I was worried that it would be an invitation for God to wreck my life, to twist me into something I didn't want to be. Instead, I find that I am being unfolded and freed to live less fearfully, less tortured, with more trust and grace. Not that last week wasn't a truly stressful week, not that I didn't feel I was regressing back to self-reliance, but I didn't regress as far and I was able to move forward in faith in a way I haven't in a long time.

A different set of worries

Lenten musing 6

Be to me a rock of refuge,
to which I may continually come;
~Psalm 71

The writer here worries that the God he/she cries out to won't be there some time, won't be a refuge when approached.

In addition to the readings from the previous musing, I have continued to be bombarded it seems by reminders to pray, reminders of the centrality of prayer in the God-filled life, in the Christ-centered life. But were I to re-write this line I would write:

May I seek you as a rock of refuge,
Instead of my own competence;
~Andrea's Psalm

This is how desperate the state of prayer is for me, how much I need to learn, how far I have to go.

Note to self

Lenten musing 5

From this morning's lectionary reading

Be merciful to me, O God, be merciful to me,
for in you my soul takes refuge;
in the shadow of your wings I will take refuge,
till the storms of destruction pass by.
I cry out to God Most High,
to God who fulfills his purpose for me.
~A Miktam of King David, Psalm 57

A quote I've been carrying in my Bible since I finished college

It is necessary for the Spirit of God to burn into our hearts this mystery, that the most important work we have to do is that which must be done on our knees, alone with God, away from the bustle of the world and the plaudits of men
~O. Hallesby, Prayer

From the book I'm currently browsing through

Prayer frees us to be controlled by God. To pray is to change. There is no greater liberating force in the Christian life than prayer. To enter the gaze of the Holy is never to be the same.
~Foster, Freedom of Simplicity

A little perspective

Lenten musing 4

Yesterday, my cousin asked, "Aren't you due soon?" and I wrote back, "I'm due 3/26 which is VERY soon relative to last summer or even Thanksgiving. NOT SOON ENOUGH relative to how big I feel the baby has gotten vs. how much space I think is left in there. And TOO SOON relative to how much work I want to do before the baby comes." So I'm a little conflicted.

This morning, I didn't sleep well from 5AM on wondering if I should get up and get to getting to work. Finally, at 7 I dragged my harrassed self out of bed.

I'm reading the Book of Common Prayer Daily Office Lectionary through my feedreader and this was verse 1:

Psalm 50:1 The Mighty One, God the LORD,
speaks and summons the earth
from the rising of the sun to its setting.
Out of Zion, the perfection of beauty,
God shines forth.

Wow!

I love the expression of beauty and expansiveness, the sense of strength and reliability, the realization that my worries are small things in light of this kind of majesty.

A little perspective on an anxious morning. A little thankfulness to direct me out of my self-pity.

The service of celebration

Lenten musing 3

I'm pregnant. This is not a "Hey everyone, here's the good news, I'm pregnant!" This is a "Mission control, we are ready for landing." ...or "take off." I'm not sure how to characterize this. Regardless, during this Lenten season our first child will come. As my body prepares for this child's coming, I am in need of more and more service myself. Things that I used to blithely do independently--from the stereotypical getting out of a chair to a more idiosyncratic making appointments--are now things that I turn to others to help me with.

Today's passage in the Lenten reader I'm going through is Luke 22:24-30

²⁴Also a dispute arose among them as to which of them was considered to be greatest. ²⁵Jesus said to them, "The kings of the Gentiles lord it over them; and those who exercise authority over them call themselves Benefactors. ²⁶But you are not to be like that. Instead, the greatest among you should be like the youngest, and the one who rules like the one who serves. ²⁷For who is greater, the one who is at the table or the one who serves? Is it not the one who is at the table? But I am among you as one who serves. ²⁸You are those who have stood by me in my trials. ²⁹And I confer on you a kingdom, just as my Father conferred one on me, ³⁰so that you may eat and drink at my table in my kingdom and sit on thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel.

Reflecting on this passage, I am reminded that in this life, following Jesus is submitting myself to one who serves. But reflecting on my life recently, what stands out is how much I am in need of service. So I asked myself, "Andrea, how are you serving the people around you?"

Here's the list I came up with:

1. I am learning to be jealous about time and activity for my husband's sake. Translation: I say no to stuff I would probably otherwise say yes to. This helps him be himself and to accomplish what he wants to get done before the kid comes.
2. I am cultivating friendships with single women. This isn't a gee-you're-so-awesome-to-do-this thing. I enjoy these women regardless of their marital status, but I'm not unaware of the tendency for married women to fall into a giant abyss of I-only-know-married-people. There are a few women that I make sure I make time for.
3. I am allowing people to celebrate this time with us. My husband and I are not gushy, ecstatic people. (Although, you might catch me in a moment after a particularly good Duke Men's Basketball win.) We have to remind ourselves to allow our community to celebrate with us. Case in point, when I asked my husband (then fiance) how many people we should invite to our wedding, I think he said 18. I told him I had more immediate relatives than that. We have hermit-y tendencies, but we are learning the goodness of allowing people into our lives and space.

I think the service of celebration isn't service just because it isn't my first inclination. Celebration can bring with it elements of the gospel. Being together and enjoying one another points toward the ultimate calling together of God's people before his throne. Celebrating a wedding points toward the bridegroom Jesus and his church. Celebrating a child to come points toward the expectation of Jesus' return and points toward our process of being "born from above" as new creatures, citizens of God's kingdom.

For many people, these are glum times. Many of us know people who have been laid off, are ourselves are laid off, or are worried about being laid off. When we celebrate what is true and beautiful, we are reminded of God's goodness whether we can articulate that or not. In the small and big ways we allow people to join in celebration, we enlarge the reach of God's kingdom. And that is a good thing.

Simplicity and the single treasure

Lenten musing 2

"The light of the body is the eye: if therefore thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light" (Matt. 6:22, KJV). If all within us is honed down to the single treasure of Christ and his Kingdom, then we are living in the light of simplicity.
...
With our eye focused on Christ the Center, we are to live with glad and generous hearts. This is simplicity.
~Richard Foster, Freedom of Simplicity, p. 36

One of the features of Lent is a paring back of "life": withdrawing from certain foods, habits, experiences. Not knowing all the history, I can only speak to the effect this appears to have. Paring back in this can help us to focus anew on "Christ the Center". For me, I've stepped away from seeking political and economic news for the season. My usual habit is to skim three national newspapers a day and links from political bloggers. I found that the first influence of my every day was the news and most of it was pretty angry or anger inspiring. That seemed a bit out of kilter with what I thought should be the first influence of my day.

Foster's Freedom of Simplicity happens to be my current browse book and it seems fitting for the Lenten season. On some level contemporary life is not simple. Yet Jesus calls us to his rest and makes it sound like there is space in the kingdom for simplicity. I think Foster is getting at that kind of simplicity, not some fairy tale pastoral ideal (and pastoral life isn't that simple). As Christ moves to the center of our lives, I think we begin to dwell in simplicity of focus. It's not that I shouldn't read the news, but can I learn to read the news while focused on Christ? I think I'd like to see that happen.

Why I'm observing Lent

Lenten musing 1

I come from a Protestant background that is not without tradition in the sense that the two churches I attended as a child had their own way of doing things and their own rhythms, but they were never articulated as such. I don't know that I had met anyone who observed any part of Lent until I went to college, and at that point I was not a fan of the "organized" part of "organized religion". So as far as I could tell, Lent was a religious ritual that was nice to see in a highly secular setting, but not for me.

So why am I observing Lent now?

A couple books have been really influential in moving me toward the liturgical church calendar. The first was Girl Meets God in which Lauren Winner wrote about her conversion experience from observant Judaism to Christianity. There's a bit in her book where I think she was talking about joining a Christian community around the world that was reading the same passages and prayers according to the Book of Common Prayer, the Anglican prayer book. Given that the local church dropped vastly in my esteem in college, the idea of wanting to join in a worldwide body of Christ was really new yet appealing. In the intervening years between college and reading that book, I had spent time in the former Soviet Union and I realized that my time in that country would come and go, but the local church body I participated in would continue (hopefully) beyond my stay. Church practices that keep me connected to believers around the world pulls me out of my small individualistic perspective and I think that is healthy. So part of why I am observing Lent is to join with brothers and sisters around the world in doing so.

The second influential book was Marva Dawn's Keeping the Sabbath Wholly. This book talks about the blessing of the Sabbath that God gave the Jews. But the one message that really stuck with me is how the Sabbath provides a rhythm of celebration and work. I am one of the least sentimental people I know, so it takes real effort for me to connect with what I consider non-pragmatic things. So I come to an appreciation of holidays and rituals really late in life--like in the past 5 years. What I have come to appreciate does end up having a pragmatic slant, but that's just me. What I've been realizing is that every day can't be work and "progress". In fact, to do good work regularly, we need rest; to enjoy the day to day and the ordinary in life, we need the exceptional and extra-ordinary. Holidays and holydays help us out by refocusing us and highlighting important things that we may otherwise lose in the everyday.

Easter has been rising in importance to me as a believer, and Lent as a precursor helps me experience Easter as a season. In the meditative subtraction of Lent, the celebratory glory of Easter stands out more. And for a pragmatic curmudgeon, that's a pretty big deal.