How's Lent Been Going For You?

It's been over a week since Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent and the start of my fasting from fear and anxiety.  While it sounds like a great and unnecessary thing to unload -- I mean, who wants those distractions multiplying in our heads and hearts? --there has been some heavy lifting going on.  

A whole lot harder than giving up chocolate.

Fear and anxiety seemed to multiply the faster I tried to banish them this past week.  But every morning without fail in my Bible reading, God gave me Costco-size servings of scripture until my cart (and heart) overfloweth with Do not be afraid.  Two days after committing to this fast, God placed this verse point blank in front of me, 

And they woke Him

and said to Him,

"Teacher, do you not care

  that we are perishing?"

And He awoke and

rebuked the wind

and said to the sea,

"Peace!  Be still!"

And the wind ceased,

and there was great calm.

He said to them,

"Why are you so afraid?

Have you still no faith?"     Mark 4. 38-40

The disciples asked Jesus the most ridiculous question: "Don't you even care?"  And Jesus did not reply with "Give Me a list of what you are afraid of," but responded with a simple question,  "Why are you so afraid?"  He's right here in the boat with us.

 

Those words Why are you so afraid? stopped me in my tracks.  

 

I felt like Jesus was asking me, "Did you think I would not take care of you? Trust Me in this."

When God says, Do not be afraid, He doesn't mean it's going to be easy, won't hurt, be awkward, nor scary.  But it does mean:  I am with you in this.  

 

And through these many days and experiences, I am beginning to realize do not fear is not the point after all.  The whole idea of giving something up for Lent is not an achievement to earn a chocolate bunny at the finish line, nor to be successful in accomplishing one's goal, nor even to become a "better" person, but to be drawing closer to Jesus.  The whole point is grasping the reality of I am with you. 

 

 And to know Him more.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Of The Making Of Many Books, There Is No End: My 2025 Chronicle of Books

One of my first memories as a little girl was getting my very first library card.  I didn't have to prove I could read, but just that I could scribble my name. I practiced for weeks.  I couldn't wait.  The library was a wonder to me.  All those books for the taking.  And reading. And reading again.  Mom limited how many books I could check out. And often hid them from me at home. My foremost rebellion as a child was reading with a flashlight under the covers.

You're going to ruin your eyes!  Mom warned me over and over.  I thought it was worth the risk. 

The library is still a remarkable, splendid and moveable feast to me. 

One of my favorite books of 2025 was Theo of Golden, a self-published paperback novel that literally took the publishing world by surprise this year.  It was written by near-70 year old first-time novelist Allen Levi who lives by himself in rural Georgia. He never even intended for it to be published.  That would have been a shame.  Even as I write this post, the Nashville library alone owns 42 copies of the physical book with 334 people on the wait list.  There are 123 copies of the e-book with an astonishing 771 people on the wait list. And that is just Nashville. It ranks at the top of my list this year.  A gem of a story.

Of the making of many books, there is no end, the Bible says in Ecclesiastes 12. 12.  I am grateful to God for the creativity of those who are faithful to their calling. 

I did not read as many books this year, but I discovered new authors and savored their words. My new favorite novelist is Niall Williams, an amazing Irish writer.

Here's my 2025 list with a few annotations from my favorites: 

Even After Everything: The Spiritual Practice of Knowing the Risks and Loving Anyway by Stephanie Duncan Smith (2024)

Table for Two by Amor Towles (2024)

Why Everything That Doesn’t Matter, Matters So Much: The Way of Love in a World of Hurt by Andi Ashworth and Charlie Peacock (2024) No one gets to adulthood without a past....be on the lookout for redemption. It comes in waves.....In essence, I was training for a work I could not yet see or know.

A Shepherd Looks At Psalm 23 by Phillip Keller (1970)

The Horse and His Boy by C. S. Lewis (1954)  He had not yet learned that if you do one good deed your reward usually is to be set to do another and harder and better one.  

The Freedom of Self-Forgetfulness by Timothy Keller (2012)

Fumbling: A Pilgrimage Tale of Love, Grief and Spiritual Renewal on the Camino de Santiago by Kerry Egan (2004)

Foster by Claire Keegan (2010)

Theo of Golden by Allen Levi (2023)  ...for helping people see themselves for who they really are.

Stories of the Saints: Bold and Inspiring Tales of Adventure, Grace, and Courage by Carey Wallace (2020)

Time of the Child by Niall Williams (2024)  But storytellers skip the everyday, mistaking the ordinary for the dull, seizing on the sensational and leaving out the habitual that is in fact the fabric of life.

The Reading Life by C. S. Lewis (2019)   As we read we find ourselves sharing their burden;  when we have finished, we return to our own life, not relaxed but fortified.  [Fellowship of the Ring]

The Cat Who Saved Books by Sosuke Natsukawa (2017)

Bel Canto: The Annotated Edition by Ann Patchett (2001, 2024)

Tinkers by Paul Harding (2009)

The Hospitality of Need by Kevan Chandler and Tommy Shelton (2025)  It's not just people saying yes to my need, but me saying yes to their participation.       

As It Is In Heaven by Niall Williams (1999) When something of great size moves into the heart, it dislodges all else.

Four Letters of Love by Niall Williams (1997)

You Have A Calling:  Finding Your Vocation in the True, Good and Beautiful by Karen Swallow Prior (2025)   What if your calling isn’t what you get paid to do?  What if it is?  What if your calling isn’t something you feel passionate about every day – or even most days?.... What if a calling isn’t just about what you do but how you do it? What if it isn’t just about doing a certain thing but also about being a certain way?

Little Shrew by Akiko Miyakoshi (2024)

An Axe For The Frozen Sea by Ben Palpant (2025)

October, October by Katya Balen (2020)

The Teacher of Nomad Land  by Daniel Nayeri (2025)  And because He has freely given these things I do not deserve, then I can freely share with you......Did God give you to us, or did He give us to you?.....Only love lets us forgive the inconvenience of other people. 

 Marce Catlett: The Force of a Story by Wendell Berry (2025)

Living in the Present with John Prine by Tom Piazza (2025)  John’s show wasn’t good because his vocal intonation was perfect, or his guitar technique was perfect, or his guitar was perfectly in tune, or because he was making no mistakes…Quite the contrary!  But it didn’t matter.  Because his ability to deliver the rest of it – the emotional part – was so in the stratosphere that none of that mattered. 

Stewards of Eden: What Scripture Says About The Environment and Why It Matters by Sandra Richter (2020)

Circus Mirandus by Cassie Beasley (2015)

My Dear Hemlock by Tilly Dillehay (2024)

The Happiness Files:  Insights on Work and Life by Arthur C. Brooks (2021-2024)

The True Gift by Patricia MacLachlan (2009)

 Letters From Father Christmas 1920-1943 by J. R. R Tolkien (1976)

My Utmost for His Highest by Oswald Chambers (1935)

An Incremental Life by Luci Shaw (2025)  Never give up on the grace of God.

Just Like That by Gary D. Schmidt (2021)   Bless us in the unexpected.....She’s not going to have a new start, thought Meryl Lee. There is no new start.  There’s only what’s next.

Emotionally Healthy Spirituality Day By Day by Peter Scazzero (2008)

Bread of Life: Savoring the All-Satisfying Goodness of Jesus Through The Art of Bread Making by Abigail Dodds (2021)  She knows the two most important things:  she is in need of help, and He is able to give it........Knowing there is a purpose behind the pressing down and rolling out can change our experience of the pain.....We need the Word. We need the people of the Word.

Humans Of New York by Brandon Stanton (2013)

History of the Rain by Niall Williams (2014)

The Bible  Never underestimate the power of God's Word.  Of all the books I read every year, the Bible continues to change the course of my life.  From my own reading, I post a daily scripture verse in my blog www.worddujour.blogspot.com  Don't go into the day hungry for God's Word. 

 

A Liturgy For Those Who Are Wandering

We all know someone in this season of life who is wandering away from the faith, or roaming within it, distracted by other loves, struggling with circumstances, encumbered by baggage, or well you know, just too busy to bother with God anymore.  But this is not the time for us to abandon ship. We need not stand by the ship's railings helpless without a life preserver to throw out to them. We can care for them as best as we are able. And we can pray for them all we can, even when we feel like we cannot breathe.  

Praying something far deeper than, "O God, be with them."  

The prayer of a righteous person has great power as it is working.  James 5. 16  

Praying that every verse of Scripture they've ever read or memorized will come to mind.  From every worship service ever attended, even boring sermons they've endured, the indelible hope of Jesus is even now engraved in their souls.  Let every song, lyric and tune they've sung or hummed burst out of the shadowy silence, replaying in a continual loop over and over, the notes, rhythm and words, stirring their emotions, as only music can do, always there just below the surface, never forgotten, no hearing loss here, but an audible presence.

Praying that God stirs up every testimony heard even decades ago of lives transformed by the gospel.  May every missionary slide show still be recalled in vivid color, reminding them of God's faithfulness around the world. Praying that they remember all those times when the Spirit woke them in the middle of the night and sat with them in their desperate situations. May they yet taste the fellowship of every potluck tuna noodle casserole and jello salad in church basements with shiny linoleum floors and stacked folding chairs. Let every spiritual conversation around the table resound, casual words in the car, on a walk, or shopping in Walmart, remembered forever. They may forget our words, but let them hear the voice of the Almighty.

Praying they are continually surrounded by every prayer earnestly prayed for them, a parent, sibling, friend or grandparent faithfully on their knees pushing back the darkness.  That every Scripture verse claimed for them holds them firmly in the power of God's Word, their names inscribed in the margins with indelible ink.  May we ourselves never underestimate the power of God's Word which is neither bound nor forgettable. 

Praying they are incredibly aware of the love and words of Sunday School teachers who loved them, youth leaders who guided them, nursery workers faithfully rocking, church friends coming alongside, cabin mates at camp sharing stories, even strangers generous with kind words.  Let even a glimpse of a spectacular sunset stir up awe in their hearts for the Creator. May their thoughts be permanently glued with the stickiness of God's Word and their hearts covered by the thickness of His steadfast love.

 

And then, over the always-present struggles, hearts broken by flawed people, even injuries inflicted by those who should have known better, the festering of deep wounds, the bleeding out for decades, may God pour His grace and forgiveness over transgressions and heal their spirits without a limp, scar or recurring sorrow.  Redemption doesn't act like nothing ever happened but creates something new, not a band-aid stretched over it, but a resurrection all the way through.    

We can pray continually that these things, and even more, rising and emerging out of the hard soil and barren ground, coming up, embracing, and drawing them back to Him.

Praying until these things are no longer a memory but an insatiable yearning for God. 

Pray like anything is possible.  And know that God exceeds any predetermined thing we can ask for. He calls us all to Himself.   

God has left a witness in their hearts, ingrained deeply, calling to them, renewed every morning and resounding in the darkness of night, cutting through the noise with His still small voice. We cannot fix, rewind or restore.  But God has the power and compassion to rescue, resurrect the dead, and redeem the past, present and future.

We realize His glory there.

O God, You don't have to become real to them.  Because You already are. Let them find You ever before them. May Your invisible chariots surround them. May Your tangible love be irresistible. Bind them to You. Tie them to Your mast. Heal, shield, glue and renew the broken parts. Breathe into them. Sing choruses over them. And bring them back Home again. 

Help them to remember how much they are loved by You.  Help us to remember too. For we too -- all of us-- are red-handed rebels in need of Jesus.

"Fear not, for I have redeemed you.

I have called you by name.  You are Mine...

Because you are precious in My eyes,

and honored,

and I love you."

              Isaiah 43. 1, 4 

Rewrite their story, Almighty One. 

The Whole Enchilada

"It's not what I want," my granddaughter said about the colorful rug her mom purchased for her new room. 

Her family had just moved into a different house the day before. Nothing but nothing felt familiar. She hadn't known any place else as home.  And this strange room certainly didn't feel like it at all, even with a new rug.  Even if it was pretty with pink and blue and various shades of green.

"I don't like it at all."

The rest of the room was a collection of half-opened corrugated cartons, a partially-assembled bed leaning against the wall, the precious stuff of her life looking like a jig saw puzzle that exploded.  

"What if you wait until your other stuff comes out of the boxes, like your bedspread and lamp? Think of the whole meal."

"Not gonna matter. Not gonna change my mind."

But later that night, her mom texted me, "She loves it."  Even the curtains left by the previous owner somehow coordinated.  Just took a little while for the other pieces to blend together.

So many things land in our lives that, well, like a strange new rug, we don't exactly like.  The biggest question is what we do with it.  Immediate rejection?  Or trust God for His sovereignty? And give God the elbow room to bring it all together.  Not as an unfamiliar piece to trip over, but something profound that God uses in our lives or for the well-being of others.  

"Life is ten percent what happens to you and ninety percent how you react to it," once remarked pastor and author Chuck Swindoll. 

And to riff on Karen Swallow Prior's new book You Have A Calling:  God's calling on our lives may not be what we are good at, passionate about, or even like doing.  But it may be just part of the whole enchilada of God's purposes in our lives. What appears as a pitiful little piece often becomes what is vital, life-changing, and eternal.

I almost didn't accept my first job in journalism.  It was, as in the words of my granddaughter, not what I expected or wanted, writing about new products for a residential construction magazine for homebuilders.  I daydreamed of jobs in publishing in New York.  But God kept me where I was, writing about heat pumps, housing developments, and eventually publishing a book about solar energy.

I didn't care for that entry-level position.  But the things I learned about writing still impact me now, decades later.   I saw it as a job.  God intended it as a training ground.  The connections still emerge.

The strange and ill-fitting is not just a wrinkle to ignore or a problem to get over, but perhaps to embrace a new opportunity or direction or attitude.

 As a child, at every pothole or dead end, my mom recited, "If you have a lemon, make a lemonade." That's what kept her going in the many hard places in her life and greatly impacted the course of her life as a musician.  Trust Me in this.

How many times in life are we presented with that proverbial rug that we think we could do without?  An unexpected job change,  the mean teacher nobody likes, a move to a place we never would have chosen? What was God thinking?  Well, a whole lot more than us.

And He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together. Colossians 1. 17 

And then....well, surprise, God works it out anyway.  He continues to reveal to us how they fit together in His overall story for us.  Some of the stuff we despised takes on a different hue in the rear view mirror.  We may not like it, but God still uses it powerfully anyway-- in our lives or a hundred other people around us.  How in the world does this odd-ball situation connect to anything else?  We may catch a glimpse of His purposes, but we just haven't grasped it yet as part of a complete meal or in God's eternal bigger picture.

This one ill-fitting or unpleasant piece, no thank you, I'll pass. God does not expect us to just grudgingly put up with it, but follow Him into it and watch how little disparate parts fit perfectly as into a Lego masterpiece, one tiny plastic brick upon another.

When making personal choices, the Iroquois culture mindfully considered how current decisions impact not only their own lives but to the seventh generation to come.  In Biblical terms, how we walk with God radically changes one generation to the next.  That ill-suited situation we encounter --or rug-- may become a family heirloom, an epic story, or perhaps a physical reminder of God's provision and faithfulness.  

We will not hide them from their children, but tell to the coming generation the glorious deeds of the LORD and His might, and the wonders that He has done....to teach their children, that the next generation might know them, the children yet unborn, and arise and tell them to their children, so that they should set their hope in God.  Psalm 78. 4-6 

God does not promise that we will ever like particular situations, or understand why, but He calls us to be faithful in it.  Nothing random here.  What we encounter and how we pivot is never just about us but resounds for generations.

What we experience is not just a singular random event, or a matter of whether we like or don't like it, but part of the whole.  What is God putting together?  Not what this situation is doing to us, but what God is forming in us through this.  The furniture in our hearts may have to be moved around for Christlikeness to fit.

"I don't like it. I don't want to be here," we cry to God.  "But I want you to," He replies. "I need you to." We just can't see how it fits in. That doesn't mean it won't. Far below the surface of our whining, God's got a lot more profound stuff up His sleeve.  We're gonna need it someday. Remember, the whole picture.   

All things hold together. Even the hard stuff fulfills a purpose, deepens our breathing, confirms a direction, or keeps us faithful right where we are.  "I don't want it. I don't like it," is not the point of the equation, but watching to see God's masterpiece emerging from the mess.  The book of Habakkuk in the Old Testament starts with For I am doing a work in your days that you would not believe if told.  Habakkuk 1. 5

That verse does not promise glory, fame, and a house with a pool.  It is not our letting God into this, but letting God invite us in.  It is not that God will fulfill, but that He is already fulfilling in ways we may not ever expect.  God is a lot deeper than that.  He knows what He is doing. Imagine that.

And we just don't see it coming.  The rug actually fits perfectly. 

Habakkuk concludes two chapters later not with everything to our liking, not something less, but with resounding hope, on which we can stake our lives.

Though the fig tree should not blossom, 

nor fruit be on the vines,

the produce of the olive fail

and the fields yield no food,

the flock be cut off from the fold

and there be no herd in the stalls,

yet I will rejoice in the LORD;

I will take joy in the God of my salvation.

GOD, the Lord is my strength;

He makes my feet like the deer's;

He makes me tread on my high places.

                 Habakkuk 3. 17-19 

 

 

I Have No Idea What That Means

For the past ten years, a few times a month, I volunteered at a local medical clinic where recently arrived refugees from all over the globe received their initial health screenings.  Most of these individuals and families had been in the United States for only a few days or weeks.  Nearly all lived, suffered, and survived in refugee camps far away from their home country or city for an extended period of time, sometimes years, sometimes even decades.  

And here they were in yet another country with a very foreign culture, engulfed in a language that makes no sense to them at all, and among people who spoke very very fast to them, even the southerners among us.

I am woefully limited in my language skills.  But it is amazing what can be communicated without words.

I was not trained as a nurse or physician, but was able to point to an eye chart, weigh each person, measure their height, all by using hand signals or working with an appointed interpreter, if we were able to access someone who speaks that particular dialect or language.

 

To measure visual acuity, we used a universal chart which utilizes direction, not familiarity with letters.  Standing on a line twenty feet away and covering one eye at a time, the individual merely pointed in the direction of the letter.  For line 1, they would point to the right.  For each subsequent designated letter, they pointed up, down, right or left.  The figures on each line appeared smaller and harder to see.

It was simple enough for a child of four or five years old to master.

But sometimes, this simple task seemed overwhelming.  To some individuals, those figures had no meaning at all.  They could not understand what they are supposed to do.  The letters just looked like black marks on a chart taped to the wall, a very strange and undecipherable foreign language....until someone showed them how to do it.

I have learned to wait.  In our American culture, we expect quickness and efficiency.  But as in so many areas of our lives, waiting produces an entirely different result.  At first, I thought hesitancy meant they didn't get it.  But I learned otherwise.  Understanding requires time to take hold.

Sometimes they would watch a sibling or parent take the test.  Sometimes it just took a few minutes to get a grip.

And then, suddenly when it made sense, I could see it in their faces. There was a glimmer of comprehension, "Oh, that's how to do it." Some started by shyly pointing a finger in the right direction.  But my favorites were those who rose to the occasion, dramatically swinging their arms as if conducting an orchestra.

A couple of months ago, an ancient woman in a wheelchair surprised everyone.  No one expected her to be able to complete the task.  Should we even try?  She sat in her wheelchair, facing the chart.  There was no indication that she understood the instructions.  A few minutes passed. And then, I detected a small movement, subtly moving her index finger to the right, barely perceptible.  I gave my hands a little clap to encourage her.  I pointed to the next line and the next figure.  Again, she sat silently.  Her granddaughter was ready to give up and move her back to the waiting area.  But then, her tiny wrinkled hand pointed down, so faintly I would have missed it, if I had not been carefully watching her.  

We moved slowly, one figure and one line at a time, until she finished at the 20/20 mark.  We all applauded then.  

I took her by the arm to help her onto the scale.  She relaxed in my arms as if we knew each other like old trusted friends.  She smiled meekly at me.  And my heart went out to this woman who survived so much suffering and lived through turmoil and displacement.  She was not much older than me.  And yet, she was starting over in this strange new country with her family where she will slowly, so slowly, begin to comprehend with gestures of grace and kindness from strangers.

To some individuals, the things of God have no meaning to them at all.  How can we translate grace and forgiveness and steadfast love in ways that others can understand?  Is the gospel just incomprehensible marks on a page to them?   Slowly, so slowly, hope in Jesus begins to make sense.  And God's faithfulness comes into focus.

When we share our faith, it may seem so foreign in this culture that others don't understand.  Even to read the Bible, they may reply, "I just don't get it."  They may have no idea what it means.  But we can show them by how we respond.  And we can wait.  Not giving up, but letting grow.  

Even as God has waited on us.

It is not a lack of interest, but a matter of waiting for the gospel to sink in and suddenly make sense.  And sometimes, that takes a long time and a lot of love on our part.  Give God the elbow room to manifest Himself.  Trust in the slow work of God. He reveals Himself -- and rarely in our timing.

And slowly, so slowly, His grace seeps in.  What does the gospel mean?  You are loved.  In every language.

Immanuel Spelled Out

 

 

All through the Christmas season, we were reminded that Jesus is our Immanuel, which means God with us. We witnessed God With Us in our decorations, the liturgies in our worship, and surrounded by what seemed as an endless soundtrack.

But now in early January, the Christmas decorations have been stowed in our attic, now colder than a freezer.  I sat down to maneuver my way through a tottering stack of work, largely orphaned during the holidays, calling my name. It looked ominous.

But glancing a little further back on my desk, I saw a nativity of painted wooden figures that I had neglected to put away. And somehow I realized that this little scene was not just a forgotten decoration (there always seems to be a few), but a reminder how to approach and navigate this new year with all of its big rocks, surprises and challenges.

These four little figures were not just a faded refrain of God With Us, but a call to move on to the next verse that God whispers to us, "Be with Me,"  acknowledging His promises and abiding in His presence. He is with me in this new year as well. He is with me in this new day too. Past, present and future tense.

How do we get through our looming dilemmas, those dark and stormy forecasts as on a weather app?  Our hard stuff appears far beyond our skill sets or endurance.

What do we do? How do we respond? As Samir replied in Daniel Nayeri's short novel The Many Assassinations of Samir, the Seller of Dreams, "God will think of something."

And indeed, He already has, already leading, already providing His Presence.

The quagmire we are walking through may not be caused by our fumbling mistakes, but God trying to get our attention.  Not saying "you failed," but "be with Me." God is not a harsh schoolmaster trying to "teach me a lesson," but a gracious God who is forming something new in me. Sometimes we have to be struggling before we see our need to realize exactly that.  Not "be the best" or even "do your best," but "be with Me."  It is not a matter of dignifying the winning place, but treasuring a long faithful walk with Him.

What does that require in this day before me?  Trying something new. Doing something that might be hard. Playing it, perhaps, in a different key.

How then should we live? What needs to be changed? Charlie Peacock and Andi Ashworth underlined those profound adjustments in our hearts, in the title of their 2024 book Why Everything That Doesn't Matter, Matters So Much. 

Everything matters.  God is not just with us.  He is not there with us, way off on the horizon. He is here with us.  On the journey, not just the other side of this.  What makes the significant difference in living that way is "a long term, unhurried togetherness with Jesus," writes John Starke in his book The Secret Place of Thunder, not a quick nod to the holy, but a daily abiding.

We can go forth into these new days with plans and agendas already set in stone.  But God always calls us to something deeper and something more.  "Allow yourself to be led," advises Martin Schleske, luthier and author of The Sound of Life's Unspeakable Beauty.  Schleske works with wood found in the forest. And makes it sing.

God does the same in us.

Write that on an index card and post it on the kitchen cabinet in plain view for this new year with all of its struggles and brokenness, awesome views and unexpected joys.

In these grey wintry months, in the days that appear just so ordinary, God spells out the Immanuel for us, word for word.  Right here with you. Be with Me.

So do not fear, for I am with you;

do not be dismayed, for I am your God.

I will strengthen you and help you;

I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.

                     Isaiah 41. 10

Too Busy Not To Read ---Inktober 17 #journal

This advertisement was part of the Wall Street Journal's #MakeTime campaign in 2015, featuring incredibly busy executives, industry leaders, and cultural activists who make reading WSJ a necessary habit in their schedules.

The sub headline for the campaign is "Read Ambitiously."  In these business leaders' eyes, it is not something they feel forced to do, but they see this daily reading as what equips them to make wise decisions and directs their attention to the most fruitful use of their time.  It gives them perspective.  And it helps them to differentiate between what is important and what is merely sensational.

If a newspaper can have that kind of impact on people in business, how much more does daily Bible reading have for all of us?  It is not words printed on recyclable paper, but the very Word of God.

In my own experience, it enables me to hit "reset" every morning, to refocus on God's bigger picture and the significance of His details in my day. Scripture informs me not just about God but about the world, it shapes who I am and consequently impacts what I do.  It is not some arbitrary ancient writing, but connects, infiltrates and impacts my day, and it affects everyone around me. God's Word gives me a fresh perspective on my day, my life, my work, and my relationships.

There is a direct connection between what I read in God's Word and the day that looms ahead of me.  I can't afford not to read it.  By making God's Word first, He places ideas in my thoughts that change my day, and often, save me from a wild goose chase or heading literally in the wrong direction.  And He changes my heart, so that I know how to respond.

As one of my pastors once said, "Every time I open God's Word, it changes me and everyone around me."

It is not just something else I ought to do.
It directly impacts everything I do.

When I read in the early morning, I write down a verse or even part of a verse that God impresses on my heart through a particular passage. And I take it with me into my day.  Those same words quite often rise to the surface during the day like a reminder to refocus on God's purposes, a reminder to be faithful to Him in all things, even in this.

It is not just another obligation to check off a list.
Intentional daily time in God's Word
                        changes our lives.
It is not a matter of keeping up with a reading plan
or a schedule,
          but marinating in it,
                meditating on it,
           and letting His Word dwell within.


I will not enter my house
or get into my bed,
I will not give sleep to my eyes
or slumber to my eyelids,
until I find a place for the LORD,
a dwelling place for the
           Mighty One of Jacob.

                       Psalm 132 3-5

A place in my day,
in my schedule,
in my heart.

The Things We Miss --- Inktober 15 #guidebook

 

My husband and I love to explore our favorite trails, over and over, where cathedrals of trees rise up around us, and rushing creeks sing endless ancient choruses. But even on those familiar trails, something new always emerges, the seniority of an old growth tree towering overhead, or suddenly, the sun's rays slicing through the thick canopy like a prophetic vision of God.  And we return to civilization with a story or two, and sometimes the resounding silence of the woods even follows us inside.

A few years ago, we hiked a trail we did not know, realizing that the beginning of a familiar trail is in hiking a new one. Our now-preferred routes were once strangers too.

This trail was on our way to see some herds of elk, gathering at Cataloochee for a little autumn party. A little side hike was a welcome break after navigating fifteen miles of potholes on a lonely gravel road. 

The carved wooden sign at the trail head stated in bold print:  Mount Sterling Trail 2.3 miles, a morning's journey, not daunting at all. Another trail would intersect in a half mile.  All I knew from my limited experience was that when the trail name includes the word "mount," count on it being steep.

Immediately, the path started upward. We were on our way.  "Do I need a heavier long sleeve shirt?"  I asked Bill, as I shivered in the early morning coolness.  "Not likely," he said. I was still skeptical.

In the first quarter mile of the ascent, I was down to a tank top.

When we reached the other trail branching off, the sign repeated:  Mount Sterling Trail 2.3 miles.  The same as a half mile ago.  Hmmmm. Not what our map said.  What else don't we know?

The path became even steeper.  Sometimes a little ignorance is a grace, I justified. But the truth was  we hadn't read the guide book.  We hadn't asked anyone about it.  We didn't know the "story" about this trail. It was another mile longer than expected, not unbearably steep, but it was a continuous climb. Each switchback vaguely promised a break, but as we climbed and approached yet another turn, the path was relentless.  It will flatten out at the next bend, I lied to myself   But no rest area was to be found.

Just keep on, I said to myself. Think about the view from the top!  That is always worth it. The rocks and the roots threatened to trip me on every step, but gradually I began to see them as footholds, at times almost like steps carved into the side of the mountain. 

We came around yet another bend, and quite suddenly, that was it, the end of the trail.  We looked around us, and then, at each other.  There was no view.  There was nothing but some scrub trees and another trail sign that pointed down the mountain in two opposite directions.

A mountaintop experience without a view?  We climbed all this way, and there was nothing here.  "I can see why this is not a popular trail," I said to Bill.

"Well, it was a nice hike on a beautiful day," he said.  And indeed it was, view or not.

On the way down, back to the car, we passed quite a few hikers on the way up.  "Should I tell them there is nothing there?" I whispered to myself.  They looked so excited.  I hated to discourage them.

And of course, as we hiked down, my mind began to find a story in this journey.  Don't climb for just a view.  There may be some other purpose in it.  It may just be about the conversation, the being together, the just getting out and trying new paths in life.

That could have been the tale on this hike, the purpose for this trek.  But I should know better than to guess how the story turns out when I'm still in the middle of a saga.

A young high schooler was coming up the trail towards us, keeping quite a pace as she ascended.  She obviously didn't know about how her hike was going to end.  About twenty yards behind her was a man with two teenage boys, evidently her father and brothers.  As we passed them, the father asked us excitedly, "Was it so amazing at the top?"

Ummmm.  "Well," Bill said.  "There really wasn't anything there."

"Isn't this the Mt. Sterling Trail?"  Yes.

"There is an historic 60-foot fire tower at the top," the man said with great anticipation in his voice, sweeping his arm upward, "the tallest fire tower east of the Mississippi."  Like, didn't you see it? They proceeded in their excitement upward and onward.

We shook our heads. There was nothing there.  Boy, are they going to be disappointed.

But later,we discovered that indeed there is a 60-foot historic tower, standing tall less than a quarter mile from where we lingered at the top. If it had been alive, it would have bopped us on the head.  If we had read the guidebook, if we had explored the summit even a few dozen yards, if we had even looked up, we would have had a much different experience.  No doubt about it.  We missed out.



There was more than a view at the top, but a panorama. God designs the awe.  I can look at the images on my computer screen, but that is nothing compared to what is real.  We missed out on the poetic view.  We missed out on the wonder.


It was a gentle reminder that there is an incredibly strong connection between what I know and what I see, what I read and discover in God's Word, what I pray, and what I end up doing that day.  Over and over, Scripture profoundly influences my vision and orders my day-- what I see around me, who I notice, how I respond, and Who I'm walking with.  It matters.  It matters a lot.  Read the Guidebook.

What else don't I know?  That which God has placed right before me. 

God's faithfulness helps me know that the wilderness is a place of flourishing, not despair.  Silence is a place of His fathomless Presence, not His absence.  And that reality takes my breath away.

Same trail, different outcome. Ordinary day, extraordinary day.  His Word does not just influence my expectations, but helps me watch for the unexpected that God Almighty always brings.

Thus says the LORD:
"Stand by the roads,
             and look,
and ask for the ancient paths,
where the good way is,
and walk in it,
and find rest for your souls."

                  Jeremiah 6. 16

On The Road Again -- Inktober 10 #nomadic

 
We moved a lot while our girls were growing up.  Our family was more like a nomadic tribe, transferring to a strange land for a few years and moving on to the next.  A friend once confided to me that I had totally messed up her address book with all our changes of residence.

My husband and I are now in our tenth location.  Many times I thought that surely this move or that would be the last. But God freed me from that myth a few moves ago.  My final destination is heaven. Anything in between, well, is just a rest area on the highway.

Years ago and just about every move between, God used a particular verse to change my heart and my mindset.

Not that I complain of want,
for I have learned,
in whatever state I am,
               to be content.

                 Philippians 4. 11

I chuckle, because written in the margin now some 40 years and nine moves ago, I had scribbled "even Tennessee."  At the time, I was a young lonely mom from Chicago with a two year old and a newborn in the Deep South in a house surrounded by cotton fields.  It was our first major move.  And I felt like a stranger in a foreign land.

Little did I know, not just the hardships yet to come, but the extreme joys, the deepening of our lives in Christ, over all those many moves and all those new places.  God taught me quite literally "in whatever state I am," to learn His secret of contentment.

Because whether it was Tennessee or Illinois or Ohio or Kansas or Iowa, I could dwell in Him.  He has strategically appointed me in that exact house, that particular block, that specific neighborhood, that city for deeper purposes than I will ever know, for His glory.

...the place where the LORD will choose, to make His name dwell there.  Deuteronomy 16.2 

And through the years with each bend in the road and huge changes, God brought me to observe that I have seen too much to question God in this.

The amusing part of "even Tennessee" is that's where we live now, our third location in that same state.

Contentment is not a secret joy,
      nor dependent on situation or location.
It is a learned state of heart
    that not just prevails over circumstances
but flourishes in them.

God's deliverance may not be in plucking us out of a difficult spot in life, but engraving His joy into our hearts in whatever state we are.

When I look back
on all those places now,
    there is not one
    that I would have wanted to miss.

A Feast of Books 2023

 

    

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

O     Of making many books there is no end...  Ecclesiastes 12. 12 

        And we are glad.

       Looking through the list of books I read in 2023, I was so thankful that I kept a list to remind me of these savory, delicious readings.  Each one was nourishing in its own way.  I found myself grateful for the faithful writers who slaved over manuscripts, putting together words, like so many ingredients in a recipe not yet written down.  

       And on those pages, bound between covers, I was amazed at the real lives that are portrayed, even the imaginary ones.  They inform us about others.  They reveal so much stuff about ourselves.  As I finished reading so many of these books, I couldn't wait to tell someone else, "you have to read this."  This year in books was indeed a feast.

       I also noticed that my books this year were almost equally divided between fiction, memoir, spiritual, and nonfiction.  And how those categories infiltrated one within another, spiritual insights in a novel, extraordinary memoirs both stronger and stranger than fiction, and nonfiction with words for the wise and those who want to be.  I ended the year once again with the last chapter of Revelation.  Reading through the Bible each year changes me.

       But some of the treasure is not just found in my list of books, but in the notes that I take, jotting down pertinent quotes, passages, images, and truths that have been translated into what I can understand.  I have kept those notes in a file on my laptop since 2010.   Some quotes make their way into this nightlytea blog and into my other blog Daily Scriptures for Busy People www.worddujour.blogspot.com. 

       And hopefully into how I live.

H    Here's my list for 2023:

  

           You Are My Sunshine:  a Story of Love, Promises, and a Really Long Bike Ride by Sean Dietrich (2022)

2.      How It Went:  Thirteen More Stories of the Port William Membership by Wendell Berry (2022)

3.      Letters From Westerbork by Etty Hillesum (1982)

4.      Timothy Keller:  His Spiritual and Intellectual Formation by Collin Hansen (2023)

5.      Prayer:  Finding the Heart’s True Home by Richard J. Foster (1992)

6.      The Lives We Actually Have: 100 Blessings for Imperfect Days by Kate Bowler and Jessica Richie (2023)

7.      The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe by C. S. Lewis (1950)

8.      Small Things Like These by Claire Keegan (2021)

9.      The Tale of Despereaux by Kate DiCamillo (2003)

10    The Freedom of Self-Forgetfulness by Timothy Keller (2012)

11     Confronting Christianity by Rebecca McLaughlin (2019)

12   Forgive:  How Can I and Why Should I?  by Timothy Keller (2022)

13   The Meaning of Marriage:  Facing the Complexities of Commitment with the Wisdom of God by Timothy Keller with Kathy Keller (2011)

14.   Bird by Bird:  Some Instructions on Writing and Life by Anne Lamont (1994)

15.   On Getting Out of Bed:  The Burden and Gift of Living by Alan Noble (2023)

16.   Stories of My Life by Katherine Paterson (2022)

17.   How To Human:  Three Ways To Share Life Beyond What Distracts, Divides, and Disconnects Us by Carlos Whittaker (2023)

18.   Louisiana’s Way Home by Kate DiCamillo (2018)

19.   The One and Only Ruby by Katherine Applegate (2023)

20.   In The Garden of The Righteous:  The Heroes Who Risked Their Lives to Save Jews During the Holocaust by Richard Hurowitz (2023)

21.   A Praying Life:  Connecting With God in a Distracting World by Paul E. Miller (2009)

22.   Spilling Ink:  A Young Writer’s Handbook by Anne Mazer and Ellen Potter (2010)

23.   Everything Sad is Untrue by Daniel Nayeri (2020)

24.   The Many Assassinations of Samir, the Seller of Dreams by Daniel Nayeri (2023)

25.   Prayers of St. Paul by Rev. W. H. Griffith Thomas (1914)

26.   Elisabeth Elliot:  A Life by Lucy S. R. Austen (2023)

27.   Our Town by Thorton Wilder (1938)

28.   The Third Third of Life:  Preparing for Your Future by Walter C. Wright (2012)

29.   The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien (1937)

30.   Run the World by Becky Wade (2016)

31.   The Puppets of Spelhorst by Kate DiCamillo (2023)

32.   Prayer 101:  Experiencing the Heart of God by Warren Wiersbe (2006)

33.   The Heaven & Earth Grocery Store by James McBride (2023)

34.   Undone:  A Modern Rendering of John Donne’s Devotions by Philip Yancey (2023)

35.   Mystery and Manners:  Occasional Prose by Flannery O’Connor (1957)

36.   Flee North: A Forgotten Hero and the Fight for Freedom in Slavery’s Borderland by Scott Shane (2023)

37.   How Far To The Promised Land:  One Black Family’s Story of Hope and Survival in the American South by Esau McCaulley (2023)

38.   The Inquisitor’s Tale: Or, The Three Magical Children and Their Holy Dog by Adam Gidwitz (2016)

39.   How to Know a Person: The Art of Seeing Others Deeply and Being Deeply Seen by David Brooks (2023)

40.   The Bible