alone vs. lonely
Alone isn’t the same as lonely.
There are times I feel lonely in a room full of friends. And there are times I am alone and very much content all by myself.
The most difficult are those moments when alone and lonely intersect. It feels like I’m strapped with weights, sinking fast toward the bottom of the ocean.
In those moments, it is difficult for me to remember that I can separate the two. That I don’t have to feel lonely just because I am alone. I need to come up for air long enough to make that distinction.
Just like Jesus did.
He told His friends, “You will leave me all alone. Yet I am not alone, for My Father is with me.”
I would do well to remember the same thing. Even when I am alone, I’m not… “for My Father is with me.”
I want that truth to be the thing that’s strapped to me today, so that the ocean I’m sinking in is one of peace rather than despair.
I want the weight of His presence to outweigh others’ absence…
I want to feel not alone simply because He is with me.
He is with me.
He is with me.
He is with me.
something crazy
I was reading again tonight about Elijah and Elisha, and I can’t shake this piece of the story:
Elisha was plowing a field with some oxen when Elijah found him. He was hard at work, doing what he was trained (and skilled) to do. I imagine that this day looked pretty similar to so many days before it. Farming is monotonous but grueling work.
Then Elijah walked right across the field and wrapped his cloak around Elisha, symbolicly passing on his ministry anointing. And in that moment, Elisha made a decision.
He chose to leave behind the comfortable and familiar to obediently follow God’s call.
He knew it wasn’t an easy decision. He was choosing the hard.
He knew that there would be tough days when he’d long for the back-breaking labor of farming. He knew he’d be tempted to return to his old life. So he did something drastic. Something crazy.
He sacrificed his oxen.
Elisha broke apart his wooden plow, set it on fire, and cooked his cattle.
He didn’t want turning back to even be an option, so he made a bonfire out of his former life.
He gave himself nothing to return to. No plan B. Nothing to “fall back on” except risky faith in a faithful God.
Reminds me of Peter.
When Jesus was killed, Peter’s future turned into a giant question mark. He couldn’t make sense of a crucified Messiah. So he went back to what he was doing before he’d started following Christ. He went back to fishing.
Reminds me of me.
When my faith wavers, when difficult turns to impossible, when I have no idea what God is up to… I’m tempted to turn back.
I’m inclined to go back to my old way of thinking, my former plans, my loosely-held hope. I once again long for the comfortable and familiar. I want to return to something I understand. Something I can “control”.
So I need to do something drastic.
Something crazy.
I need to build a bonfire.
write now
Write now:
I’ve got my pj’s on and I’m laying on a new-to-me bed in Nashville… my first time back “down south” in about 11 weeks. (I think it’s 11. It may actually be more.)
I’m watching the ceiling fan work it’s circular magic and listening to the clackety-clack of my own (loud) typing.
My eyes are heavy; I’m pretty tired… My heart is heavy; she’s pretty tired, too.
I’m feeling… I dunno… apprehensive? As though I’m holding my breath…
I’m contemplating my revolving door life: I hugged a friend goodbye tonight and hugged another hello. Bitter and sweet in so many ways.
I’m thinking about the dream-reel of my heart… and how it feels like it ran out of film a long time ago.
My stomach just growled really loudly. (Did you hear that?!) That means it’s definitely bedtime. Before it becomes another meal time!
I’d love to hear about you–
write now.
your Q’s, my A’s: favorites
I’m still working my way through the questions y’all asked back on the Your Q’s, My A’s post.
There were a ton of favorite questions. I thought you knew I’m no good at favorites! Maybe that’s why you asked them. Hmmm….
Well, I’m gonna try to answer these quickly. First answer that comes to mind kinda thing. So it’s more like my favorite-of-the-moment. But that counts, right?!
Here goes:
Favorite food? Italian. Good Italian.
Favorite Starbucks drink? Right now… iced cinnamon dolce latte.
Favorite band? This. is. so. hard. for. me! I’mma go with Caedmon’s Call even though it’s been ages since I’ve listened to them…
Favorite book you’ve ever read? I wish I could look at my bookshelf to answer this! I’ve got such bad recall! // Fiction: My Sister’s Keeper, by Jodi Picoult // Non-Fiction: Next Generation Leader, by Andy Stanley
Favorite book you’ve read in the past year? Fiction: The Help, by Kathryn Stockett // Non-Fiction: Plan B, by Pete Wilson
Favorite movie? This seriously feels impossible! Let’s say… French Kiss.
Feel free to answer any or all.
And while the Wizard is being cooperative,
feel free to ask some other “favorite” questions.
five-minute friday: 12 hours in nyc
Go.
Five minutes is definitely not enough time to tell you about my whirlwind trip to New York City last Friday with Tracee. But here are some highlights… I’mma type fast…
The moment my favorite skyline came into view, we both bust out singing “Only in New Yoooork…” And it became our theme song for the day.
I’d heard about this initiative going on that placed pianos all over the city “to bring music to the streets”. We made it our mission to find one, and sure enough… We played on a random piano in the middle of Times Square!
We hit up FAO Schwartz because we just had to play on the BIG piano. (Our “Where’s Waldo?” game on Twitter made it even more fun!) We ooooh’d and ahhhh’d at the Apple Store, and played Skee-Ball on an iPhone 4. (So random. And so funny.) The live camera feed on one of the ginormous screens in Times Square was a blast too. Trying to find ourselves up there felt like payback for the Where’s Waldo game… But we eventually found us.
We took our time eating dinner at my favorite restaurant — 2 1/2 hours! — and savored every bite (and sip). Mmm! I love me some good Italian…
I got a long-overdue hug from my friend Natalie to end off an amazing day, and then Tracee and I cashed out on the bus ride back to DC. We were joyfully content from a day of laughing, talking, walking (lots of walking), and doing everything and nothing together.
It went by so fast. And was far too short. But it was the very best day I’ve had in a looooong time. What a gift!
Done.
prone to wander
I love the raw honesty in the comments on these prayer posts. I am so thankful for the transparency and community here at The Grit. Thank you for sharing your hearts in this space.
I want to pass along some things that help my prone-to-wander heart stay connected with God in prayer. Not as a formula or because I think these are the best or only ways to do it. But because maybe they will spur on ideas that work for you personally.
: : :
I create prayer prompts for myself.
I’m visual, so it helps me when I connect things I want to pray for with specific objects or even places. Then those serve as triggers, prompting me to pray whenever I see them. For instance…
- My pillow is a reminder, when I lay my head on it at night, to pray for my mind, thoughts, dreams, and sleep.
- Putting my hands on the steering wheel when I get in the car reminds me to acknowledge that God is in control and not me.
- Y’all know I like me some Starbucks — It’s comfort in a cup for me. So I’ve made Starbucks to-go cups a prompt to thank Him for the peace, security, and belonging I have in Him.
Short arrow-like prayers invite the Lord right into the moment with me.
I love Nehemiah’s example of this: “The king said to me, ‘What is it you want?’ Then I prayed to the God of heaven, and I answered the king…” Mid-conversation, before he even responded to the question, Nehemiah shot up a prayer. I try to be intentional to do the same, shooting up quick prayers for help and wisdom, to thank Him, or just to point out something that I love…
I keep pen and paper nearby.
Scribbling down the random things and to-do lists I think of makes it easier to keep my mind fixed on talking to God.
Some of my best prayers are prayed in bed at night.
I usually struggle to fall asleep, because my brain lacks an OFF switch. Quieting my heart to pray is a good way for me to turn late-night concerns right into conversations with God… even if I do fall asleep mid-prayer.
I use post-it notes. Lots of them.
I write down things I want to pray for, and stick them where they’ll be visible. I have Fuzzy Brain Syndrome, and will simply forget without reminders like this.
I don’t often tell someone I’ll pray for them.
Because I know full-well how quickly my good intentions get away from me. When I do say I’ll pray, I stop right then and do it.
Often when I’m driving alone, I pray out loud in the car.
I tend to spiderweb less when I’m praying out loud.
When I really need to hash through something with God, I journal my prayer.
Writing out my conversation with Him helps keep me focused, and seems to make it easier for me to listen for His response.
I am so thankful that the Holy Spirit intercedes for me.
When I don’t know what or how to pray (which is pretty often), I often just whisper: I have no words right now. Holy Spirit, I need You to pray for me because I simply can’t…
: : :
“Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
Prone to leave the God I love;
Here’s my heart, O take and seal it,
Seal it for Thy courts above.”
-from the hymn Come Thou Fount
What are some things that help you pray?
coming out from under the guilt
For me, prayer has always been wrapped up in condemnation.
Not that it was a conscious thought, but it was always there… underlying my foundational beliefs about prayer. And about myself.
While I’ve never been one to pray for very long, my mom, on the other hand, was known for her hours-long prayer times. And in a way, it became a measure of spirituality in the brand of Christianity I was raised in.
A measure I fell very short of.
I’ve been made to feel like a “bad Christian” because of my prayer habits (or non-habits).
I’ve been told that I’m not spiritual enough because I don’t pray for long periods of time. (Along with my insufficient Scripture usage and lack of structured “quiet times”…)
Prayer became yet another area that I’m simply “not enough” in. The guilt always gave birth to shame in my failed attempts to try harder.
So it’s something I’ve had to realign my thinking on. And I find myself still needing to. Often. Because I still feel the weight of those lies.
I want depth and realness in my prayer life to stem from desire, not judgment.
I’m tired of trying to pray more/better/longer/eloquentlier because I’m “supposed to”. I’m done should-ing on myself, and I’m done with others should-ing on me too.
Because, let’s be honest… Guilt, disapproval, and judgment have only caused me to pray less, not more.
Ironic how condemnation works. Even when it’s self-inflicted.
I digress.
There is significant freedom in remembering that God created me as I am, on purpose.
He’s not surprised by my “oooooh! shiny!” tendencies when I’m talking to Him. He’s not baffled by my inability to sit still for extended periods of time. He’s not confused when I pray in short one-liners spread throughout the day.
He knows what I’m like. He’s the One who knit me together for God’s sake! (No blasphemy intended. He really did create me for His sake.)
And He hardwired me exactly as I am. Intentionally.
I think He loves when I relate to Him out of the uniqueness of my own DNA rather than out of some mass-produced version of how Christians “should” pray.
So today I’m choosing to shake off the shackles of should and supposed to. And I’m giving myself the freedom to discover how God wants to relate to me.
And how He created me to relate to Him.
Which is as individual and unparalleled as my fingerprint.
What are some of the unique ways you can relate to God?
Do you feel freedom to connect with Him like that?
thoughts from my dusty prayer closet
Praying has never been easy for me.
Not something you’d ever expect to hear from a missionary, I know. But it’s the truth. Praying is sometimes usually really hard.
So I don’t pray nearly as much as I “should”. Not as much as I want to, even. Or maybe not as much as I want to want to would be more accurate.
I get distracted really easily.
Midway through mentally writing my Target list, I’ll remember that I’d actually been praying.
Oh. Yeah.
So I shift back to prayer and, sure enough, my mind begins wandering again. Even if it starts with thoughts of the person or situation I’m praying for, my brain very quickly spiderwebs into countless random things. Until I remember—again!—that I was in the middle of praying.
Oh. Yeah.
Take 29.
I also can’t spend hours in prayer. I just can’t.
Many people can. And do. And actually love it. But not me. I’m simply not wired that way.
I’m more inclined to talk to God in bite-size conversations throughout the day than in one long official “prayer time”. Maybe it’s because I’m more do-er than be-er, more Martha than Mary. Maybe it’s because I can’t sit in one place very long. Or because I don’t feel like I have that much to say. Or because I struggle with structure. Or because of that whole “easily distracted” thing.
Maybe it’s a combination of all the above. And then some.
Whatever the reason(s), I don’t often pray for any great length of time.
But none of these “challenges” give me license not to pray.
They don’t let me off the hook from growing in this area.
I still need to spend more time praying than I currently do. I need to be intentional to stay focused in prayer. I need to ask, seek, and knock. I need to give thanks and make my requests known.
I still need to pour my heart out like water before the Lord. I just no longer need that to look like some Wonderbread version of a quality prayer life.
I simply need it to look like me connecting with Him.
I’m gonna unpack more thoughts on prayer
tomorrow. In the meantime, I’d love to hear
what prayer (honestly) looks like for you.
trust is a gamble
“Trusting anything – your family, your instincts, the dim-witted anchor on the 10:00 news – it’s all a gamble. With plenty of promises and no guarantees.
But I’m finding, the longer I live, no matter how often I fall on my face, that folding is for losers. That winners take hits. Call it going all in. Call it rolling the dice. Screw hedging your bets.
Bluff. Raise. Call. Stand.
Again and again and again.”
From the closing monologue in
In Plain Sight, S3 E10
STORY
I’m not very creative. I have no musical talent… All I’ve got as far as dancing goes is my white-girl-with-her-elbows-up signature move… And I couldn’t paint something worth paying for, no matter how I tried. (Although some “art” I’ve seen makes me think I might have half a chance…)
Seriously, I do not belong to the creative class. At all.
But I would love to be at the STORY conference in Chicago in September.
Because it looks that a-ma-zing.
The purpose of STORY is to fuel the Church’s artists, writers, and producers in communicating the Gospel message. Some of the best creative practitioners in both ministry and the marketplace will be speaking, from filmmakers and authors to actors and musicians.
STORY is a unique experience with main-stage-only sessions (no workshops or breakouts), and attendance is limited to just 500. It’s an intimate audience with some of this generation’s top creative minds. Attendees will have the opportunity to ask questions and dialogue with the presenters as they learn to engage people in the most compelling and effective way.
I love that!
And if that’s not enough, Carlos Whittaker will be there layin’ down some of his amazing jam’z.
(I sound straight-up ghetto, don’t I? Mm-hmm. I try.)
If you consider yourself a creative, you need to get to STORY. Let the creative-types at your church know about it too.
Because the greatest story ever told is worth telling well.
I’d love to hear about your creative
(or lack of creative) talent.
And while you’re at it,
drop some ghetto-talk on me, Boo.
