journey

Thirsty

| Marie Griffith

This is late. I intended to end my Lenten journey with a post sharing my experience but I had no words. This year was very different than last. I wrote several posts easily during my Lenten journey last year, but posts have been few this time around because words have been few.

I hoped to end my Lenten journey in a better place, my heart fuller and faith firmer. Part of the reason I observed Lent again this year was to re-center but I’ve felt disoriented and out of sorts.

I’ve been really lost only one time. I was with my mom, younger sister, and nephew in the woods near our home. It was early fall but still hot and humid. We continued our exploration through the woods too long and were surrounded by all things unfamiliar. The thick green woods engulfed us. We needed only to find the occasionally used railroad tracks then we could find our way. That’s what we hoped. We found the tracks, but were so lost we were unsure of which way to walk to get to something we recognized. We guessed, and hours later we saw the familiar wooden bridge built above the tracks in the distance. Parched and exhausted, we made our way to my aunt’s house to call someone to take us home.

My Lenten season felt similar. It seemed a wild and long one. I was weary and I’m weary still. And thirsty.

But water is much more refreshing when we’re really thirsty.

Maybe I’m not as disoriented as I feel and I’m exactly where I should be.

 

Come, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters;
and he who has no money, come, buy and eat!
Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price.
Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread,
    and your labor for that which does not satisfy?
Listen diligently to me, and eat what is good,
    and delight yourselves in rich food.    Isaiah 55:1-2

 

Photo by Artem Bali on Unsplash

Wash It Away

| Marie Griffith

I’ve been quieter about my Lenten journey this year. It’s not been on purpose. I didn’t plan it that way is what I mean. The last time I sat down to write, the internet was out. At first, I was irritated about the inconvenience of it. By the time we found out it would be a couple of days until a new piece of equipment arrived, I was over it and enjoyed no internet.

One of the purposes of my Lenten journey this year was to spend less time on social media, my phone and laptop. I realized halfway into the season that I had not done well with the “less time” part. Then we had no internet and I was forced into it. And it was good.

I was less distracted so I read more. And studied more. I had longer conversations with my family. I listened better. I thought through ideas fully. I felt more at ease and it seemed easier to move at soul-speed.

Then the internet was up again and it all went back to how it was before. The restlessness. The wasted time. The countless distractions.

But it doesn’t have to be this way. Internet or not, we are bombarded with opportunities to look, like, scroll, watch, read, post the perfectly filtered photo, create the wittiest caption, comment, and check stats. For what? Why do I give in to the distractions when I know it’s not what I need?

I believe the question is one each of us needs to ask ourselves, wrestle with, and answer honestly. And it won’t do any good to put it out of our minds and ignore it. Why do we allow such unnecessary distractions? Are they doing any good for us? There may be some good in it and because of it. I read many inspirational posts throughout the week that remind me of truth and encourage me. But we all know our screens aren’t filled with all things encouraging. It’s too easy to compare or envy or become less and less content with our lives. And we really need to be concerned when we care more about our social media presence than with who we are in real life with the people God gave us. We need to ask how we can use social media for the good of others; how we use it wisely; how we can prevent it from stealing valuable time and real connection with real people.

These are questions I’m asking.

So I’m deleting a couple of apps from my phone today, because having instant access to all the distractions is part of the problem for me. This is a start and it will help, but I plan to keep asking the questions. I will keep wrestling because I don’t want to give in to a distracted life.

If you’re one who has found out how to do this well I wish you’d share with the rest of us. We can all learn from one another.

I’ll leave you with beautiful thoughts from Jan Richardson. She blogs at The Painted Prayerbook. This is from one of her 2012 Lenten posts.

“….we carry so much that can serve to insulate us from recognizing and being present to the God who is always present to us, and who still perceives our beloved shape beneath the layers of grime that cling to our souls. The distractions we build our lives around; the harm we cause others or ourselves; our inability to see ourselves as God sees us: how might we allow God to wash all this away, not so that God can see us more clearly, but so that we can see the God who makes a home within us?”

 

 

Photo by Seth Doyle on Unsplash

 

Hope Has Feet

| Marie Griffith

Last week I wrote about making headway. Sometimes the headway is painful. Sometimes it’s slow and feels like no headway at all. I used my running journey as an example because lately my running is terrible. My body hurts. I can’t get my breathing right. And my pace is off. Since then I’ve had two fantastic runs!

I came close to talking myself right out of the first one. It was freezing outside when I woke up before the sun. I dreaded the run already and had more time to dread it while my windshield defrosted. I struggled to be positive on my drive to the park, but I ran my goal and it felt great. And I had another good run today. Maybe I have my running groove back.

I do know this: If I hope to be a runner, I have to run. Or sometimes barely jog. Or maybe I alternate walking and running. But I keep at it. I do the work of running. So what if I go through a season of painful off-paced running? I still do it.

It’s that way with anything we hope for.

If we hope to publish a book one day, we make the time to write. We hope to go to grad school, then we find out what it will take and do it. We want to travel, then we do the work of saving and planning. We hope for a good marriage, then we learn to love our spouses the way we want to be loved, and do the hard thing of loving when it’s not easy. We hope for deep friendships, then let’s be the kind of friends that make it possible. Anything we hope for must be worked for.

Hope doesn’t wait around for something to happen. Hope is not an idle wish for things to get better. Hope has feet. Hope compels us to move forward. Toward our goals and dreams, and the people in our lives. Hope moves us patiently and steadily in the direction of all the good things, all the God things our hearts desire.

Even a long season of waiting can be a hopeful and purposeful time of growth. But hope always looks and moves forward.

What is it you hope for? How are you moving toward it? Have you ever lost hope?

Thank you, Joanna Schley, for the sweet photo.

Making Headway

| Marie Griffith

I’ve been running for over three years now. I went from believing I could never run to…….well……running. I’m not sure I’m any good at it. I’ve never experienced the “runner’s high” I hear about unless you count how I feel when I’m finished with a run. I’m elated after a run. Because it’s over.

And on my last runs, I felt as if I’ve never ran in my life. It was awful the entire time. Maybe it was because I woke up late and skipped parts of my routine. I rushed out the door before I finished my first cup of coffee because I was determined to get the run in before I had to be in the office. Within the first quarter mile I knew. My legs ached and my lungs burned more than usual, so I slowed my pace. The slower pace only prolonged the misery. The run never got better. I almost quit halfway through my goal, then I thought about quitting the rest of the time. But I finished.

When I read what Jesus thought when he saw his disciples in a boat on the sea it reminded me of my run and our lives.

“And he saw that they were making headway painfully, for the wind was against them.”  Mark 6:48

I can think of no better words to describe the hard parts of my journey. My running journey, the married one, the parenting one, my working and writing ones and the most important journey – the following Jesus one.

Making headway painfully.

Of course, it’s not always like that. There are days when it’s easy. Or easier. Good run days happen. I don’t let the bad run days stop me from working to get better at it.

It’s the same way on the other journeys. I can’t let the hard days of my marriage make me forget the good days. I don’t let the days when I feel uninspired to write any words prevent me from continuing my blog or steal my dream of publishing a book. On the days my parental decision making is less than wise I try to remember all the times it wasn’t.

And on the journey that matters the most…the one that affects all my other ones, I’m learning as I go. There are days I’ve let pride rule my heart, or acted selfishly. I’ve ignored what Jesus said about loving my neighbor or failed to do something good I know I should have done. But it happens less than it used to. I’m learning. Slowly at times. Painfully sometimes. But I’m moving forward and I’m never alone.

Jesus said, “Take heart, it is I”.  Mark 6:50

He sees. He knows when it’s painful and slow. And He’s there giving me the courage to keep at it.

I stumble…..but I’m making headway.

 

 

Good News

| Marie Griffith

Create in me a clean heart, O God,
    and renew a right spirit within me.
Cast me not away from your presence,
    and take not your Holy Spirit from me.
Restore to me the joy of your salvation,
    and uphold me with a willing spirit.             Psalm 51:10-12 ESV

This week’s Monday School passage is part of a Psalm of David. He penned the Psalm after he was confronted by Nathan about Bathsheba.

What better words to express a broken heart over it’s own sin. It’s God who makes our hearts clean and renews a right spirit within. And it’s God who can restore to us the joy of His salvation.

This is my daily and constant prayer within the 40 plus days of Lent. I know only a little more about Lent than I did last year. My Lenten journey was a sweet time of reflection and re-centering and so I began again on Ash Wednesday, which was the same day as Valentine’s Day this year.

The purpose of my observation of Lent is to slow down, seek, reflect, and prepare. I’m committed to leave plenty of open spaces on my calendar so I can slow down and move at soul-speed but I will also reduce my smart phone and laptop use. Unintentionally, I’ve started to believe I’m more important than I am. Missed calls, unread emails, and notifications from my blog or social media accounts scream for my attention. Shazam praises me for the great song find, Runkeeper reminds me it’s time for another run, and Netflix picks shows just for me. First, the dings, buzzes, and red bubble notifications never feel like soul-speed. Second, I’ve become the center of my world and that’s not where I belong.

So on this Lenten journey I ask God to take me back to the beginning.

God take us back, the place we began 
The simple pursuit of nothing but you 
The innocence of a heart in your hands 
God take us back, oh God, take us back

     Simple Pursuit by Passion

I will pause Monday School for a while and instead write about my journey back. I’m reading in Mark during this time if you want to join me.

And Mark’s first words are these:  “The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.”   Mark 1:1

Mark has some good news for us.

 

photo by Joanna Schley

 

Making It Happen

| Marie Griffith

Next week I’ll fly to Tampa to run in my last race of the year. The longest and most challenging one yet.

IMG_5897A group of us started training in January and next week we’ll get to experience the joy of accomplishing what we set out to do……..the reward of almost 12 months of dedication and hard work.

Our goal: The Spartan Trifecta – to conquer a Sprint, Super, and Beast in one calendar year.

This race is the final piece of our Trifecta. The culmination of all our training and commitment. It will be grueling, but oh the joy will be sweet.

Because the longer and harder you work…….the more it means.

And this means a lot. Three years ago I couldn’t run a quarter mile without stopping. I’ve come a long way since the Couch to 5K app and running my first 5K in 2015.

I’m not sure what’s next in my journey but whatever it is I plan to work at it with as much courage and dedication and surround myself with those that will cheer me on, push me, and lift me up when needed.

I couldn’t do this alone. These women and my family have been a vital part of my conquering.

So here’s to setting goals and making them happen. Here’s to taking on new challenges and overcoming obstacles. And here’s to doing it with some of the most beautiful and strongest people I know.

No compromising here.

Three Days In

| Marie Griffith

My thoughts for Monday School are on Thanksgiving. I expected to write about one of the many verses on thankfulness but when I read this story I knew this had to be in Monday School.

I like to think of myself as a grateful person, but I realize I’m more like the people in the story than I want to be.

Three days.

That’s how long the people of Israel traveled before they complained.

The first part of Numbers is about censuses, assignments of duties, march formations and camp set up. But by the end of chapter 10, the people of Israel are on the move. Verses 33 & 34 say, “So they set out from the mountain………..the cloud of the Lord was over them by day when they set out from the camp.”

After almost a full year at Mount Sinai the people of Israel began their journey to the Promised Land. Three days in “and the people complained….” But the complaining turned into something worse.

“The rabble with them began to crave other food and again the Israelites started wailing and said, ‘If only we had meat to eat. We remember the fish we ate in Egypt at no cost-also the cucumbers, melons, leeks, onions and garlic. But now we have lost our appetites; we never see anything but this manna!”   Numbers 11:4-6

The people did the same thing three days into the trek from the Red Sea to Mount Sinai. (Exodus 15) They complained about water. After they saw the Red Sea parted and walked to the other side on dry land…….they complained about water. This time they grumbled about food. The bread of heaven had ceased to satisfy. It wasn’t good enough. And with each complaint the people romanticized their time in Egypt.

We do the same. We may not say it out loud but we grumble in our hearts. The business we prayed for finally happens and as soon as it’s more challenging than expected we dream of the easy days before it started. The promotion we wanted demands more conflict resolution skills than we care for and we want to give up. We pray for good friends but distance ourselves when the relationships requires more give than take.

Like the people of Israel, we want the Promised Land but not the difficult journey. We want the privileges without the responsibility, the transformation without the work, the patience without the perseverance, and the faith without the fight. We want all the good stuff without any of the hard stuff.

Like the people of Israel, we forget. We forget the miracles, the healing, and the promises kept. And we choose not to remember how it really was in Egypt.

We would never say it but we ignore God’s Presence, doubt His promises and despise His provision.

And like the people of Israel, sometimes God gives us exactly what we think we want.

 

For the rest of this story read Numbers 11.

 

Photo by Jakob Owens on Unsplash

Done

| Marie Griffith

The past week was the most difficult one of my Lenten journey. Not just in the remembering of the events of Holy Week or from my devotionals in Bread and Wine: Readings for Lent and Easter, but personally challenging in ways I thought were behind me.

That is part of the reason for my delay in writing this post. The words wouldn’t come. I’m unsure they’re going to come the way I want them to now but I will try.

We all know what a hard week feels like. Or months or years. Some of you are in the middle of a hard season and it’s been so long you’ve stopped keeping track.

All I know is that it felt like I was fighting to be okay. Not working hard to be okay. Not fighting to be victorious. I had to fight to be okay.  That meant not giving in to certain thoughts. It meant doing the things I had to do…..and following through with plans I’d made. Fighting meant being honest with myself and focusing on Truth. It meant resting but not isolating. It meant me not asking someone else to do what only God can do and remembering what He’s already done.

“We begin our Christian life by depending not upon our own doing but upon what Christ has done.

When you cease doing, then God will begin.”    Watchman Nee, Day 44, Bread and Wine

And I’m learning I’m able to make it through the hard weeks. Because He is with me.

“We go through that valley of the shadow of death with him. But with him. With whom? Him – the Savior – the Agnus Dei – this figure on the Cross.”  Thomas Howard, Day 36, Bread and Wine.

 

3 Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, 4 and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade. This inheritance is kept in heaven for you, 5 who through faith are shielded by God’s power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. 6 In all this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. 7 These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. 8 Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, 9 for you are receiving the end result of your faith, the salvation of your souls.     1 Peter 1:3-9

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hand Holders

| Marie Griffith

I began this Lenten journey anticipating a fruitful time of reflection, refocusing and repentance. It has been that and so much more.

This week’s readings from Bread and Wine: Readings for Lent and Easter have been especially rich with deep truths my heart needed.

The reading from Day 27 by Peter Kreeft about Jesus: “He came. He entered space and time and suffering. He came, like a lover. He did the most important thing and he gave the most important gift: himself. He sits beside us not only in our sufferings but even in our sins. He does not turn his face from us, however much we turn our face from him.”

Let that seep into your soul. Let it flow into the deepest places of hurt and fear and let it heal you. Jesus does not turn away. When my heart is broken…..when the pain feels too much for me…….when I don’t understand. He’s right beside me.

He’s there too when I’m full of pride or when I’ve judged someone and feel justified doing it. When I’ve ignored an opportunity to do someone good. Even when I’m mean or greedy. He’s there. Not turning away from me. Not pointing his finger……but reaching out his hand.

Deuteronomy 31:6 says “Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.”

Jesus says in Matthew 28:20 “And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”

Then there was this on Day 32. Dorothee Soelle writes: “God has no other hands than ours.”

The good that needs doing in the world will be done by our hands. Our hands.

Sometimes the way others know Jesus is with them and never leaves them……is by our being with them and not leaving. By our sitting right beside them whatever they’re going through. Sickness, painful circumstances, mental illness, bad choices, or foolish mistakes.

Jesus is the Savior. He’s the healer and the heart changer. But we can be hand holders.

Isn’t that what the Gospel is? The Good News that we don’t have to do this thing alone…..that Somebody has our back and loves us right where we are.

He’s here with me, holding my hand through it all……so I can hold the hands of the tired ones, the sick and hurting ones, the ones too weary to believe and the ones weighed down with regret.

I’m learning to be a hand holder.

 

Visit my friend Joy, on her blog  A Life Giving Moment for her Lenten journey.