The Mercy of Horizon

What a mercy to have a horizon—
that faraway line reminding me
while my head is in the clouds
that earth and soil are under my feet
and everything is not sky. The horizon

is horizontal only because of my
smallness. In fact, it is a curve beyond which
my hands cannot reach, my eyes cannot see.
It is a great circle inscribed where the heavens
and the two-dimentional place of my perspective

intersect, a reminder that God is always
more than I know. What a mercy to have a horizon
that hides (for now) what is past the threshhold—a mercy
because the knowing, the sight, might be more than

my easily blinded eyes can bear. A mercy because
if I see too much, I may not have faith enough. Funny, too—
without the horizon that limits knowing
there can be no azimuth,
no arc to give direction, no reference point
from which to measure a navigating angle.

Listen as Wisdom calls out!

“…I was there when he established the heavens,
when he drew the horizon on the oceans.”

(Proverbs 8:1,27 NLT)

Ritual Interrupted

In a tennis match, before every first serve I bounce the ball three times, look up, breathe a sigh, relax and lower my jaw, toss and serve. Before every second serve the ritual is the same, except I bounce the ball twice.

Rituals calm and comfort. They deepen my concentration. They shield me from distraction. They are guiding rails to keep me in the groove of good habits.

In my kitchen, another ritual plays about every two weeks. After one man and three boys finish the last of the last four loaves, I make four more. For kneading bread dough, I have my “Kneading Psalm,” Psalm 65.

Thou dost visit the earth, and cause it to overflow;
Thou dost greatly enrich it;
The stream of God is full of water;
Thou dost prepare their grain,
for thus Thou dost prepare the earth.
(all quotes from Psalm 65)

Very appropriate, isn’t it? This Psalm is perfect for breadmaking!

Thou hast crowned the year with Thy bounty,
And Thy paths drip with fatness.
The pastures of the wilderness drip,
And the hills gird themselves with rejoicing.
The meadows are clothed with flocks,
And the valleys are covered with grain;
They shout for joy, yes, they sing.

I have mixed the ingredients. Now, kneading time has come, and I eagerly anticipate the words dancing over my tongue and between my lips. Time for the Kneading Psalm!

My hands know what to do. Under my palms and fingers I feel the goodness and richness of whole grains and oil and honey. The heels of my hands push and fold the swelling dough—this dough which came from the earth’s fatness, from a year crowned with God’s dripping bounty, from valleys which sang and rejoiced in their grain-clothes. My ritual begins, and I recite:

“Though the fig tree should not blossom . . .”

My hands continue, but my mind halts. This is not my Kneading Psalm. My routine is interrupted! This is not my Psalm 65!

Yet I submit to the One who broke the ritual. I continue:

Though the fig tree should not blossom,
nor fruit be on the vines,

(Why am I saying this? This doesn’t match what I’m doing!)

the produce of the olive fail
and the fields yield no food,

(But Lord, abundance is swelling under my hands. My pantry is full. My refrigerator is full. And I’m kneading four loaves’ worth of bread dough!)

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.
(Habakkuk 3:17-18 ESV)

The kneading is over. I cover the dough and wait for the rise. I am living in abundance. Why this Habakkuk prayer instead of my ritual Psalm 65?

And I understand.

His Word prepares. Memorization is preparation. Psalm 65 is a “now” word for the now—I live in plenty; food fills our kitchen; I am not currently suffering hardship. Yet I can and should pray the Habakkuk 3 prayer, for the same reason that learning CPR is useful only if it is learned before the emergency. I do not know what is ahead, but His Word prepares me. In my knowledge-faith timeline, what I know now will increase my faith for the future.

So I am ready. When the hardship comes, I will have already practiced the prayer.

“Though the fig tree should not blossom . . .
. . .yet I will rejoice in the Lord;
I will take joy in the God of my salvation.”

(Originally posted Sep. 29, 2009.)

Read It Like You’re Bleeding [and a book giveaway!]

(***GIVEAWAY UPDATE*** Congratulations to Beth and Erica who will receive Discipleship Journal’s Best Bible Study Methods!)

Something about this woman drew me to her. I wanted to be her friend and probably would have pursued that friendship if I ever had a chance. Though I never knew her, she taught me a pivotal spiritual lesson—a Bible-reading lesson. I wish I knew her name.

If she were still alive…

Read the rest of my article at BibleDude.net: read it like you’re bleeding. At the end of the article are the book giveaway details! I’m giving away two copies of Discipleship Journal’s Best Bible Study Methods. I’d love to see you in the comment box over at BibleDude.net!

In-Betweens Are Places, Too

I stalked him shamelessly. I hounded him, followed his scent, tracked his every move. I kept close on his tail, and I wasn’t even discreet about it.

In the process, I learned so much. Tracking Jesus was a fun and wonderful way to know him better…

Read the rest of this article at BibleDude.net. I’d love to see you there!

Like the Sequoias (What Fire Can Do)

Eleven days before the wildfire crested
the ridge I see from my front door,
we were tourists at Sequoia
National Park and learned
that when fires were suppressed,
the Sequoias stopped reproducing.
But when fire spread,
so did the seeds. Those giants
of the forest would die
without the heat
of fire that dried their cones
to open and drop thousands
of seeds that can only take root
on fire-cleared ground made fertile
by the ashes. For the
generations of giants
to multiply and thrive, fire
is required.

Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.
(James 1:2-4)

Prayer suggestions for evacuees of the Waldo Canyon Fire:
Safety of firefighters and emergency workers.
Peace, protection, provision for evacuees (currently about 32,500).
Followers of Jesus in the area to shine His light and seek His guidance.
Many to draw near to God.
Unity and service in the Body of Christ.
Love one another and our neighbors as ourselves.
God’s glory in all things.
Rain.
Less wind.
Not my will but Yours, O Lord.

Family update:
We are safe and housed. Status of our home is unknown but suspected to be unburned at this point.
*THURSDAY UPDATE*
The city released a list of streets where houses have been burned, and our street is not on that list. Thank you again for your love and prayers.

If you have seen in the media photos/videos how high the flames and smoke plumes have been, know that God’s unfailing love and faithfulness are ever higher (see Psalm 108:4). Thank you for your love and prayers. We believe God will bring great good, much good, out of this tragedy. God loves you. Turn to Him.

Tomorrow Won’t Fit into Today

Writing a story is like living one; you can’t
force future moments onto the current
page. You can grasp a dry towel with
moistureless hands, but no water will come
of your wringing, and your skin will chafe.

Soak the cloth
first,
and wait.

I believe a writer can make writing happen, sit down and stir from grass or leaves or snow. But I also believe it takes time to write. Each book I’ve written, in some sense, could not have been written before its time. The white moths were not ready to rise…

There is no hurry. The things we cannot write about today, we will surely find we can write about tomorrow. We should not worry about the process, but simply trust it and move on. After all, we contain fields upon fields of stories we’ve rehearsed over time. We must recognize that these are the ready ones, the now-stories.

- L.L. Barkat, Rumors of Water, pp.152-153

(For the T.S. Poetry Book Club (hosted by Lyla Lindquist) on Rumors of Water: Thoughts on Creativity & Writing, by L.L. Barkat. Read Lyla’s thoughts and find links to other book club participants here.)

Little Horizons

I think I’m alone, with nothing
in sight but my own walls,
sheltering. Then I remember:
at my Zaccheus-height
I can’t see down the other
side of that hill until
I climb a tree. Here I have
no sycamores, but one of those
pines will do just fine.

(Not) Demanding Pomegranates

On a typical Friday morning I started boiling water for oatmeal while Charles and our seven-year-old finished their Bible time by practicing memory verses. They do it out loud, so while I watched the water begin to bubble, I could hear them.

And why have you made us come up out of Egypt
to bring us to this evil place?
It is no place for grain
or figs
or vines
or pomegranates…
(Numbers 20:5)

When they practice memory verses, they say it over and over, so I heard it like a refrain. They say the words in a kind of cadence…

“It is no place for grain
or figs
or vines
or pomegranates…”

… and as I heard, I noticed. The list in this complaint was so specific. Grain, figs, vines, pomegranates. They questioned God and His goodness and faithfulness because they weren’t in a place that looked the way they wanted it to look. They were trying to dictate life. Could that be what made it an evil place?

How I have done the same when I complained to God that I was not bearing any fruit! I have tried to dictate what my fruitfulness is supposed to look like. Lord, what good am I doing for you?! I’m not discipling anyone [grain], people don’t pursue friendship with me [figs], I’m not leading any Bible studies [vines], and we haven’t been on a family short-term mission trip [pomegranates]!

Instead of demanding that God would make my life look a certain way, should I not instead look at my life the way God has made it? Shouldn’t I look for His purposes, for the way He wants to do things?

So I am not in a land good for pomegranates. But what is this land good for? Can God not bring purpose and beauty in cactus, in sage, in dust and tumbleweeds?

Father, I trust in your unfailing love and believe in your perfect plans. Help me not to make demands of you but instead to trust what you are doing, which is always better than what I can dream or imagine. May I have vision to see what You have given and respond accordingly.

—-

This week Bonnie Gray hosts a community of those who share about the topic: “Fearless.” Click on the FaithBarista badge below to read more posts on Fearless!

Who Fills In the Blanks? (Wanting What He Wants Me to Want)

Delight yourself in the LORD;
And He will give you the desires of your heart.
(Psalm 37:4)

Because of Psalm 37:4 I have a wish list:

My Heart’s Desires

1. I want __________.
2. I want __________.
3. I want __________.
4. I want __________.
5. …
6. …
.
.
.

It’s not that I delight in the Lord,
fill in the blanks,
give Him my list,
and then He will give me
what I desire.

I think of it this way:
I give Him the blank list,
He fills in the blanks,
and then He will give me
the desires themselves.

Father, I ask not that You give me what I want, but that you give me the want.

***

(This week Ann Voskamp hosts a community of those who share about Fasting. This is my fast: to seek not my desires but His.)

“Why have we fasted and You do not see?
Why have we humbled ourselves and You do not notice?”

Behold, on the day of your fast you find your desire,
And drive hard all your workers …

Is this not the fast which I choose,
To loosen the bonds of wickedness,
To undo the bands of the yoke,
And to let the oppressed go free
And break every yoke?

(Isaiah 58:3,6, emphases mine)

(On Wednesday, click on the Holy Experience badge below for more community posts on Fasting!)

Ways and Paths

Make me know Thy ways, O LORD;
Teach me Thy paths.
Lead me in Thy truth and teach me,
For Thou art the God of my salvation;
For Thee I wait all the day.
(Psalm 25:4-5)

May you know the eternal joy
of following Jesus.
Merry Christmas!