Lent

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

 

Love Me Tender

| Marie Griffith

Eleven days into my Lenten journey and I realize I’ve slowed down……a little. I’ve allowed for more quiet time in the morning….reading, praying, listening and reflecting, but I’m still trying to find a consistent soul-speed.

I’m reading a daily online Lent devotional and the Gospel of Mark during my Lenten journey. This week the story of a man with a withered hand in Chapter 3 struck a chord. Or maybe it hit a nerve.

Jesus walked into the synagogue and noticed a man with a withered hand. Some versions say his hand was shriveled. Others use the word deformed or crippled. Whatever word described it, the man’s right hand was useless. The same story in Luke 6:6-11 says Jesus asked the man to stand in front of the crowd.

Jesus wanted the people to see the man and his gnarled hand. Perhaps some in the crowd were moved to compassion. Some wondered what Jesus would do. The Pharisees and scribes looked for a way to accuse Jesus.

In all three Gospel accounts of the story, Jesus questioned the crowd.

“Is it lawful to do good on the Sabbath or to do harm?”

“If your sheep fell into the ditch on the Sabbath, wouldn’t you lift it out?”

“On the Sabbath should we save someone’s life or destroy it?”

The four words at the end of verse 4 in Mark’s version say it all.

“But they were silent.”

No answers. Not a word. Only silence. The religious leaders were unyielding. The sight of the disabled man and the pointed questions did nothing to soften their hearts. They were consumed with the idea of catching Jesus in breaking the Sabbath.

I wonder about the onlookers, though. The other ones in the synagogue. Why didn’t one of them answer Jesus and say, “I would rescue my sheep” or “It’s lawful to save a life any day of the week.” Had they heard the man-made rules about Sabbath for so long they forgot what God said? Were they scared into silence? Afraid of what the religious leaders would do if they spoke up?

Verse 5 says, “And Jesus looked around at them with anger, grieved at their hardness of heart….” 

Then Jesus told the man to stretch out his hand and it was restored.

Such a work of mercy should have tendered hearts and caused amazement and faith, but they wouldn’t be moved. They persisted in unbelief and set out to destroy Jesus. The ones determined to uphold the law missed the whole point of it: to love God and love people.

Are our hearts hard? Are we unmoved? Do we value man-made rules and traditions over people? Are we determined to move our agendas forward even when it means hindering others’ journey toward God? Are we holding onto status or position or reputation instead of trusting God?

Father, show us our hearts. Reveal the deepest places – the ones we try not to see. Make our hearts tender so we are moved by what moves You. May we love you wholeheartedly and may we see those around us the way You see them.

And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh.  Ezekiel 36:26

 

Photo by Jamez Picard on Unsplash

 

 

 

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

 

Reflection

| Marie Griffith

 As water reflects the face, so one’s life reflects the heart.   Proverbs 27:19 NIV

 

I planned to write more on this and include some thoughts about the end of my devotional readings from Bread and Wine: Readings for Lent and Easter.

 

But the thing about a proverb is it says what it says without needing any help from me.

 

 

Reflecting

Something More

| Marie Griffith

“Something perfectly new in the history of the Universe had happened. Christ had defeated death. The door which had always been locked had for the very first time been forced open.”  C.S. Lewis, Day 47 in Bread and Wine: Readings for Lent and Easter

Easter Sunday has come and gone. The season of Lent is over but my journey of reflection continues with the daily readings from the devotional. I’m in the “New Life” section of the book now.

Frederick Buechner writes on Day 52:  “In the end, his will, not ours, is done. Love is the victor. Death is not the end. The end is life. His life and our lives through him, in him. Existence has greater depths of beauty, mystery, and benediction than the wildest visionary has ever dared to dream. Christ our Lord has risen.”

God has something more for us. But it’s not out there somewhere. It’s not tomorrow or in a few years or decades from now. It’s not when you finally have the family you’re praying for. It’s not only when your marriage gets better or when the cancer is gone or when the kids behave. It’s not just when you’re free from the addiction. It’s not only when you’ve reached your goal or when you’re living your dream.

It’s here and now.

It’s in the everyday mess of your life. The laughter and tears and everything in between. It’s in the middle of your battle. When you’re fighting for faith and trying to find joy. It’s in the hard work of reaching your goals. It’s the crying out to God when you don’t understand. It’s when you’ve conquered and when you’ve failed. When you go from feeling all is right in your world to feeling it’s hopeless. It’s when you fall and get back up. And it’s when you have no strength left to get back up.

He’s the God of your every day. Right there with you in the midst of your routine and obligations. Because “what God began, God will not abandon.” Madeleine L’Engle, Day 56

Something more is here and now.

“Those who live victoriously, though they wait in great hope and expectation for the final triumph of God’s grace, live even more in present experience of what that grace in Christ can do in their lives here and now. ‘Today shalt thou be with me in paradise’ is no idle promise for an indefinite future but a simple statement of what Christ can and will do here and now if we put our trust in him and open our lives to his presence and his power.”      Howard Hageman, Day 50

 

 

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.

 

 

 

I’m Like Them

| Marie Griffith

“We misunderstand God altogether if we think He deals coarsely with our souls.”
Henry Drummond

My journey through Lent this week has given me new thoughts on old stories. The stories were part of the daily devotions from Bread and Wine: Readings for Lent and Easter. I revisited the story of Jesus driving the merchants out of the temple for buying and selling there.

Am I like the merchants?

I reread the story of Thomas who declared that “unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe it.” John 20:25

Am I like Thomas?

The story of Peter is another one. Not only did Peter fall asleep in the garden when Jesus asked he and his other friends to keep watch but he denied he knew him. Peter turned his back on the very One he confessed as the Christ, the Son of the living God.

Am I like Peter?

Yes. I’m like them.

How many times have I tried trading with God….tried to get something from God in exchange for my faith or good deeds? “Look what I’m doing God. I’m serving and giving and studying. I’m working hard for You. Now bless me. Make my life comfortable and give me what I want.”

I’ve been the one not believing….not trusting until I can see. “Show me Lord, then I’ll trust You.”

My denial doesn’t look the same as Peter’s but I’ve turned my back on the One who loves me with an everlasting love. By not following Him. By not loving others. By withholding forgiveness. By causing others to feel less than.

But God doesn’t deal coarsely with our souls.

God is kind when He reminds me that “it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— not by works, so that no one can boast.”  Ephesians 2:8-9

God is patient when I have doubts and fears. As Jesus did for Thomas, in His mercy He will give me the “grace of interior vision, the gift of the opening of the heart, and of its surrender.”

God is tender with me when I’ve turned my back. It was Jesus who turned to look at Peter as he was denying him for the third time. (Luke 22:61) There wasn’t judgment in Jesus’ eyes. There was love.

And I am thankful for His kindness.

“Or do you think lightly of the riches of His kindness and tolerance and patience, not knowing that the kindness of God leads you to repentance?”  Romans 2:4

For more thoughts on our Lenten journey visit my friend, Joy, at her website A Life-Giving Moment.

Confess