Searching for Selah

I am going to let you in on a secret goal I have.  I dream of being a “day reader.”  I aspire to carve out a half hour a day to sit in my rocker on the front porch and indulge in a bit of fiction, or a lovely home magazine, or some breezy, funny biography.   It sounds as luxurious as a day at the spa (almost).  Oh, I read books constantly but I limit myself to Bible Studies (or the like) during my early morning quiet time, and any fluff stuff after the kids are in bed.  I can throw a novel down sitting on the beach or driving in the car on long road trips like a starving person will devour a cheeseburger.  But, here at home I just can’t do it.  Summer is dangerously close to winding down with a mere month left and I am failing.  I cannot “day-read.”

It should be simple right?  I have all the necessary tools.  I have books coming out of my ears.  I have said rocking chair.  I actually have the 30 minutes most days.  I just can’t make the shift in my brain.  I feel a bit like the character in the book, “If You Give a Pig a Pancake.”  You know the one, Moms.  I start out with the intention of a little porch time but then…. I go to grab the book and I realize the shelf needs dusting, I go into the laundry room to get the Pledge, I see the laundry is ready to be switched and folded, I take a clean pile to a kid’s room, I realize that the dresser is in desperate need of a good clean out, I head to the pantry to get a garbage bag and remember that I need to take the chicken out to defrost for dinner, as I am thinking about the meal preparations I realize I am missing an ingredient so I am off to the store….. And so on, and so one.  See?  I can’t just sit and read/relax/enjoy because there is always a shelf that needs dusting, a load that needs folding, a closet that needs cleaning out, a floor that need sweeping, a mouth that needs feeding.

I think what I need to confess is that I worship the god of productivity.

It can look like endless business, a cleaner house, another party thrown, the next week carefully planned, weeds pulled, meals cooked, forever…. I have to be productive.  I’m not sure if I was always this way.  Let’s face it, being momma to 4, part-time homeschooler, wannabe homesteader takes a lot of work, organization, and productivity.  I have to run a pretty tight ship or mayhem will ensue.  Laundry will pile up, the house will get out of control, the kids will eat crap, assignments will be missed, etc.  I do it to my children too.  The second I see one of them sitting down for a moment I inevitably ask, “What does your room look like?”  I might as well say, “Why are you sitting, you lazy kid?  You are not producing anything of value sitting there.  I’m sure you could find something more productive to be doing!” I hate it but I say it every time.  And I hurry.  I hate that too.  Like I am going to be put in “Mommy Jail” if every stitch of ironing isn’t finished by the end of the hour, or all of the meals are not planned and groceries bought by 10 am Monday, or if the yard is not Southern Living ready by dinner on Sunday.  I continually sacrifice my peace to an invisible deadline no one knows about but me.  I remember once when my oldest two children were babies and I was at the store with my dad alone.  At some point he asked me, “Why are you running?”  Ummm, I didn’t know that I was.  But then all of the justifications and excuses started, “The baby will need to eat, I have to get back before she wakes up from her nap, I have to start on dinner… etc.” I mean, we have to hurry to get all the things done faster and more efficiently.  We have to be productive!  The justifications rolled but the conviction stuck.  Anne Voskamp says that “only amateurs hurry.”  Ouch.

At the beginning of every January, I pray for a word to focus on for the coming year.  It’s a bit like a spiritual “New Year’s Resolution.”  I study it, declare it, come back to it over and over throughout the year.  It’s like an anchor for my prayer life, a filter for my attitude.  So, for 2016, the word I received was “Selah.”  Now, at the time I did not know that this was the name of a Christian band as well but my studies have educated me on this point.  Selah.  It is believed that this word was a musical term used by the Hebrew Psalmists.  Although the exact translation is unclear, Selah is associated with a musical interlude or a pause in the voices singing while the instruments perform alone.  When this direction was given in a song it meant to “stop and listen, pause and think, hang and measure, to praise and lift up.”  Basically, take a breath.  Relax.  Chill out.  REST.  Here are a few of the scriptures the Lord brought me too in my quest for Selah:

His place of rest will be glorious.  Isaiah 11:10

Anyone who enters God’s rest also rests from his own work, just as God did from His.  Hebrews 4:10

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.  Matthew 11:28

My presence will go with you and I will give you rest.  Exodus 33:14

Unless the Lord builds the house, those who build it labor in vain, Unless the Lord guards the city, the guard keeps watch in vain,  It is in vain that you rise up early and go late to rest, eating the bread of anxious toil; for He gives sleep to His beloved.  Psalm 127:1-2

So, toil.  That has been my anti-word for this year.  Or at least it was suppost to be.  The definition of toil is: to labor, to work, to exert strength with pain and fatigue of body or mind, particularly of the body with effort of some continuance of duration.  Obviously there is legitimate toil, worthy work, necessary labor.  God called us to work before the fall in Genesis 2:15.  It is not a four-letter word.  But, something about the term toil feels fruitless.  I picture a treadmill that takes so much effort but gets you nowhere.  A toil of the mind is the worst.  A toil of spirit.  Honestly, this summer has not been my favorite.  It has been a season of toil of the mind and spirit.  Have you been there?  Are you there now?  Could you use a little Selah?  Me too.

Remember my boyfriend Brother Lawrence from It’s Amazing What A Little Son Can Do?  He refers to this idea of rest or Selah as “Holy Inactivity.”  In adding this vocabulary to my filter of Selah and my confession of idolatry in regards to productivity, The Lord has taught me a couple of lessons.  The first is that what may seems restful may really be more draining.   Have you ever sat down to just “veg” in front of the TV, or for a good scroll session on your phone because you needed a break, only to look up an hour later not feeling rested at all?  Feeling fitful?  Unsatisfied?  Irritated?   Have you ever withdrawn to catch your breath only to find yourself feeling isolated?  Have you ever given your morning to sleeping in rather than getting up with a quiet time or some exercise just to find yourself dragging all day?   There is an aspect of Selah, or Holy Inactivity that is life-giving and restorative.  It is not always about tuning everything out, but about tuning in more intentionally to what really matters.  Can we produce peace rather than just activity?  Produce margin rather than checklists?  Produce a fullness of spirit rather than a fullness of schedule?  Real rest and peace, true Selah, is found only with the Prince of Peace and the Author of Rest.  For His “yoke is easy and burden is light.” (Matthew 11:20).   Don’t look to the world for your Selah, look to Jesus.

The second lesson I have learned is without toil there can be no Selah.  Without Selah the toil is in vain.  It is a constant push and pull, isn’t it?  Even within the very definition of Selah we find this tension: stop and listen, pause and think, hang and measure.  There has to be a pause from something.  A listening to something.  A measuring of something.  To those who land on the opposite end of the spectrum from me and tend to worship idleness rather than productivity I would say that “God is not a God of disorder but of peace” (1 Cor. 14:33). We all know the disorder that comes when we lift leisure out of place as well.   Proverbs is full of warnings to the “sluggard” about laziness.  There must be Selah and rest from something, not just a general neglectfulness in disguise as “simplicity,” “calmness,” or “peace.”   Ecclesiastes 3 is the classic scripture on seasons.  It tells us that there is a “time for everything under heaven,” and then goes on to give us endless and wise examples of “a time to’s.”  In verses 12-13 we are bestowed with this prize: “I know that there is nothing better for people than to be happy and to do good while they live.  That each of them may eat and drink and find satisfaction in all their toil- this is the gift of God.” 

So now I find myself back at that rocker on the front porch.  It is freshly sanded and has just received a new coat of paint.  The herb garden located on the porch is weeded.  The floor is blown clear of leaves.  The windows to the kitchen are clean.  The lawn in front is perfectly mowed (by the hubs), and the potted flowers have been watered.  The work has been done.  What good is it if I never pause, breathe, listen, enjoy?  The toil really will be in vain if it is not followed by the Selah.  Can I stop bowing to the god of productivity and lay my toil down to appreciate God’s gifts?  Can inactivity really be holy?  These are the lessons I am trying to learn as the twilight of summer is on the horizon.  I have a couple of extra rocking chairs… Are you up for a little Selah too?

 

 

 

On the Altar of Feelings

Maybe you should put on your steel-toed boots for this one.  I am lacing mine up as I type these words.  Toes will be stepped on.  This may hurt.  It is a lesson that has crunched my own toes more times than I can say.  Ready?  Here goes:  Your feelings are liars.  I know there could not be a more counter-cultural statement.  Sorry.  Maybe you’ll like me again if I tell you a cute story.  Once Upon A Time….

When my oldest daughter was 3 years old she was at the height of the Disney Princess craze.  In true, first-born, type-A fashion, when she dressed up as a particular princess she needed ALL THE THINGS.  For example, if she was Ariel, she had to have a flower pinned in her hair, along with the “bras” (I know!  She’ll die one day), and the tail.  She also positioned herself on a stump in our backyard and sang “Part Of Your World” for infinity.  And so it went with Jasmine, Sleeping Beauty, Snow White, etc.  But Cinderella was her jam.  From the moment she put the first pair of “glass slippers” on her chubby toddler feet she never looked back.  When she was Cinderella, she not only had the gown and slippers, she also had her hair in a bun, a black velvet choker on, and white gloves up to her elbow.  EVERY. DAY.  This was a precious phase until one day I heard her say to her 2-year-old brother, “You have Jesus in your heart, but I have Cinderella in mine.”  Uh oh…. Maybe this whole thing had gone a little far.  Trying to discuss this theology with a 3-year-old princess dressed in a ball gown was pointless but my eyes and ears became more a tuned with the importance of our hearts.

Obviously I am not talking about the blood pumping organ that resides inside each of our chests.  I am talking about the center for our thoughts, beliefs, and emotions or feelings.  What do we hear over and over in our self-centered, narcissistic, selfie-driven society?  “Follow your heart.”   Mr. Hallmark has never clarified this statement to me exactly, but I am assuming it means follow your feelings, put your emotions in the driver seat, let your perceptions and affections be the deciding factors in your life.   It sounds warm and fuzzy, doesn’t it?  Like you want to put on a twirly peasant skirt and lay in a field of wildflowers?  I know, me too, for a hot second.  And then I think about all the tantrums my kids have thrown over the years.  I think about the things they have wanted that have been absolutely crazy, harmful, or impossible.  I remember the melt-downs over broccoli or hair-cuts or bedtimes.   If they had been allowed to “follow their hearts” none of them would know how to read, none of them would have ever had a bath, and none of them would have a tooth in their head.   My oldest would have run away a hundred times, number 2 would never leave the Ranchito, number 3 would have been killed by her pet tiger, and number 4 would have brain-damage from jumping off of every elevated surface he has encountered in the 5 years of his life.  But, they have not been allowed to follow their hearts at every turn.  Sure, we nurture who they are.  They get to choose their activities.  They get to voice an opinion sometimes.  During the #summerofsayingyes there is extra room for freedom and creativity.  But, ultimately there is a higher authority.  It’s called parents.  If I let my children follow their hearts all of the time they would be taken away from me and I would be in jail.

So, I guess my question is, at what point are they trustworthy?  Our hearts, our emotions, our feelings?  Is there a magical age where they should get their license and be allowed to drive our lives?  Is it 16?  Good grief I hope not!  18?  21?  40?  Because whatever age it is, I haven’t reached it yet.  I know that my perceptions are not always dependable.  I know that my emotions are not always stable.  I know that my feelings do not always reflect truth.   In direct contradiction to “follow your heart,”  the Bible says, “The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure.  Who can understand it?” (Jeremiah 17:9).  As much as that rubs against all things Disney Princess and Hallmark Channel, we know it is true.  You know your heart is deceitful.  You know it lies to you.  You know that no matter what age you are, you still have temper tantrums and say things in the heat of emotion that aren’t true.  You know that feeling when it feels like you are underwater, drowning in hurt feelings, or anger, or fear, or despair.  You know that you can swim, you know that a life-preserver of truth has been tossed your way, but your feelings pull you under.  Powerful they are, trustworthy they are not.

In these moments, what have you sacrificed on the altar of your feelings?

Have you ever sacrificed a friendship on the altar of hurt feelings or misconceptions?  Have you sacrificed a calling on the altar of fear?  Have you sacrificed a marriage on the altar of apathy or bitterness?  Have you sacrificed your spiritual walk on the altar of boredom?  Have you sacrificed wisdom on the altar of rebellion?  Have you sacrificed your witness on the altar of anger, your legacy on the altar of pride, your children on the altar of selfishness?  Sorry.  I hope those boots are working for you.  I have had some near misses myself lately.  I have come dangerously close to lashing out from beneath the tide of pain.  I have been misunderstood and misjudged  and people I know I love and I know love me have been drug to the jagged altar and tied up.  The soundtrack to this dramatic scene is forever the same: the words, “Always,” “Never,” “Everyone,” and “No One.”  As in, “He always ____.”  “She never ____.”  “Everyone ______.”  “No one really ____.”  I know that when those lies are playing in my head, it’s time to put down the knife.  If I had followed my heart I would have done the deed.  But I know my feelings are liars and my heart is deceitful.  I have watched families come dangerously close to being sacrificed on the altar of misguided hearts and feelings.  Praise God for the beacon of His truth.  Just like there is a higher authority in our home and in my children’s lives, so there is in our lives and in the perilous sea of emotion.  It’s call the Bible, the Word of God, the Holy Spirit.  It’s our lighthouse when we are drowning in our feelings.

 

The Bible also says, in Proverbs 4:23, “Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.”  Just like we would put a fence around a pool for our children, or protect our toddlers at the edge of the ocean, we must put a guard around our heart before it jumps into the deep end.  Just like we should be eating heart-healthy food to protect the vital organ and rejecting the junk, we must seek the healthy and throw out the dangerous when it comes to the center of our emotions as well.  What are you letting in that is not safe?  Are romance novels  pushing you under the waters of discontentment with your spouse?  Is it HGTV that is throwing you into envy?  Is Pinterest leaving you sputtering beneath self-doubt?  Are movies or magazines or someone’s Instagram feed pulling you under insecurity?   While it is true that we cannot always choose or control how we feel, we can certainly take important, practical steps to guard our hearts.  Truly, the only way our heart is completely safe is with Jesus residing on the throne of it (not Cinderella).

Last summer I (say it with me) read a great book.  The Christian’s Secret of a Happy Life by Hannah Whitall Smith is a treasure I go back to time after time.  I was a bit nervous about the title at first, a little scared that it would be shallow and superficial at best, heretical at worst.  Then I learned that my girl Hannah was a Quaker who penned this gem in 1875.  Legit.  She addresses this tension of truth versus emotion in a chapter entitled “Difficulties Concerning the Will.”  She says, “The truth is, that this life is not to be lived in the emotions at all, but in the will; and therefore, if only the will is kept steadfastly abiding in its center, God’s will, the varying states of emotion do not in the least disturb or affect the reality of the life.  If God is to take possession of us, it must be into this central will or personality that He enters.  If, then, He is reigning there by the power of His Spirit, all the rest of our nature must come under His sway; and as the will is, so is the man.  For the decisions of our will are often so directly opposed to the decisions of our emotions that, if we are in the habit of considering our emotions as the test, we shall be very apt to feel like hypocrites in declaring those things to be real which our will alone has decided.  But the moment we see that the will is king, we shall utterly disregard anything that clamors against it, and shall claim as real its decisions, let the emotions rebel as they may.”  I told you she was for real.   When our will is steadfastly holding to the Truth, we know we will not drown in emotions.   Though we cannot choose our emotions, we can choose our response, our actions, our will.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m an emotional girl. I’m not sure there has ever been a day of my life that tears have not been shed. Anxious tears, sad tears, angry tears, happy tears. I feel big. I love hard. I speak my mind. My husband calls it “drama.” I call it feelings. I am like David in Psalms. One minute I am praising God with my whole heart and the next I am “in the depths of despair.” (Okay, that’s Anne Shirley my favorite. Enough said?)  But I have learned the hard way not to let them drive my life. I can cry the tears, feel the feels, say the thing, and then swim to the edge and shake it off. I will not sacrifice the truth on the altar of my ever-changing, super charged feelings. They cannot be ultimate. They are not trustworthy.

So,  remember that life-preserver, those swimming lessons, that lighthouse?  We must know the truth to be buoyed by it. It must be real to us to be the lifeline that we need.   We must spend more time soaking in the Word than drowning in our emotions.  That sounds obvious but I bet that if you actually clocked the moments spent in the Word today versus the moments you spend talking/thinking/posting about how you feel you would see the water rising.  I would too.  But we can reverse the tide.

I don’t know what is on the altar of your feelings right now… a relationship, an opportunity, your testimony, maybe just your day.  I can almost promise you that it is not worth it.  You’ve been lied to.  Put the knife down.  Walk away.  Grab on to the Truth.  Guard your heart. Kick Cinderella out and get Jesus back where He belongs.

 

 

 

Dear Mr. McGregor, I’m Sorry…

Do you remember Mr. McGregor from the Peter Rabbit stories?  He was the crotchety old gardener who continued to chase all the adorable bunnies out of his cabbage.  When they got caught in his shed, they feared for their lives because he was not kidding around about his garden.  He was the “bad guy.”  In the end, the poor bunnies were saved and made off with Old McGregor’s veggies.  As a child, I was obviously in the palm of Beatrix Potter’s hand and rooted for the hungry rabbits wearing precious English coats.  As an adult, I’m so annoyed at those little thieves.  So, let me take this opportunity to express my sincere apologies to the fictional gardener Mr. McGregor.  I feel ya Man.  My little garden is not doing too well this year and I’m in the worst mood about it.  I have bought and planted so many squash, zucchini and pepper plants this season that I have spent more than I EVER would at the store on actual squash, zucchini, and peppers.  I mean, there isn’t a male in my family that will even touch anything from the squash family.  But week after week I head back to the nursery to buy another fresh, healthy plant just to have it devoured less than 24 hours after it is in the ground.

Stupid, stinking, thieving rodents.  (Around the Ranchito I think mice and rats are the problem more than bunnies in coats.  Destructive none the less.)

I have tried everything.  I have used the “Repel” spray and the stuff you shake around the perimeter of the garden.  I have bought netting and cages for the plants.  I have read every article about cinnamon and cayenne pepper.  There have even been late night stake outs and BB Guns (It’s Texas y’all.).  I have even researched the possibility of setting up owl roosts because they are supposed to be rats’ greatest predator.   Unfortunately we don’t have any trees tall enough (It’s WEST Texas y’all).  Nothing is working.  No matter how many rodents we kill, there are always 10 more waiting to munch my little veggie plants.  It’s not only the tender stems and leaves they are destroying… It is all of my hard work and toil. It is the possibility of the fruit (or vegetable).  Gone.  In a bite.  The thing that really kills me is that there are 7 acres worth of plants to eat.  There is a pasture full of lovely long grass.  There are wild flowers in huge bunches all over this place.

In fact, I’m so mad about the garden right now that there are plenty of weeds lining the rows of half devoured plants.  That’s not what these little thieves go for.  It’s not what they want.

So God is showing me something in all of this which is good I guess.  I mean if I can’t have zucchini bread I might as well have a little wisdom.  The first lesson I am learning as I watch my garden being destroyed is about the “little foxes.” (I know, it’s rats not foxes.  Stay with me).  Remember the little foxes from Song of Solomon?  In chapter 2:15 it says, “Catch for us the foxes, the little foxes that ruin the vineyards, our vineyards that are in bloom.”  The reference to the vineyards here is probably made in regards to the relationship between King Solomon and the Shulamite woman.  He is giving her a warning that they need to be aware of the “little foxes” that can destroy their love.  So rats are even smaller than foxes, right?  And yet they can ruin my entire garden in one night.  It makes me think about all of those little things, little distractions, little sins, little places of rebellion that I am letting destroy the fruit of what God is wanting to do in my life.  Is the distraction of busyness eating up my peace?  Is the sin of comparison destroying my joy?  Is there a root of bitterness that is devouring my contentment?  Are my words, my witness, my ministry being nibbled to nothingness because I have allowed a little fox of pride to reside too long in my heart?  To catch them I have to be aware of them.  After all, John 15:8 says, “This is to my Father’s glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples.”  If I am not bearing the fruit, showing myself to be a disciple, then I better get to fox hunting.  They won’t go away on their own.  There will have to be a plan, and equipment, and maybe I’ll need some help.  Focus, the Word of God, a community around that is always calling me to be a better version of me, who can see the fruit God intends.  We’re coming for you, you stupid little foxes.

Next, it strikes me as, ummmm, let’s say interesting (infuriating, exasperating) that the weeds are thriving next to the failing vegetables.  No one went out to buy the weeds, no one loaded them in their car, no one prepared the soil for them, dug a hole, and gingerly placed them in the ground.  No one has fertilized them or watered them.  And yet, there they are; tall, strong, healthy.   Weeds are the default.  If nothing is done, it is the weeds that will grow, not the nutritious, beneficial fruits and vegetables we desire.  I have to think, “what is my default?”  What is yours?  What will grow in us if left to our natural state?  What attitudes will flourish?  What words will be produced?  What sin will thrive?  What will come out in a crisis, when my feelings are hurt, when I am stressed or worried or tired?    Jeremiah 17:9 says, “The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure.  Who can understand it?”  So, that’s our soil to start with.  That is our human flesh, our natural selves.   It reminds me of the good ‘ole Fruit of the Spirit in Galatians 5:16-23:

“So I say, walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh.  For the flesh desires what is contrary to the Spirit, and the Spirit what is contrary to the flesh.  They are in conflict with each other, so that you are not to do whatever you want.  But if you are led by the Spirit, you are not under the law.  The acts of the flesh are obvious: sexual immorality, impurity, and debauchery, idolatry and witchcraft, hatred, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissensions, factions and envy, drunkenness, orgies, and the like.  I warn you as I did before, that those who live like this will not inherit the kingdom of God.  But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.  Against such things there is no law.”

The works of the flesh, the default, the weeds… they are easy to spot, they grow without effort, they are easily rampant.  The fruits of the spirit, well they are a bit more time consuming to cultivate.  I always think about Daniel and his buddies after they had been taken into captivity by the Babylonians.  When they were given the opportunity to partake in the king’s richest of fares it says, “But Daniel purposed in his heart that he would not defile himself…. (Daniel 1:8)”  He had resolved to stay faithful before the temptation had come, therefore purity was his default in the face of defilement.   Pulling weeds is boring and tedious and really, a never ending task.  But to give what we have resolved in our hearts room to flourish, to make the fruit of the Spirit our default we have to get rid of them.

Healthy, yielding gardens don’t just happen.  There may be seasons of rodents and weeds.    My prayer of late in several difficult situations in my life has been, “Lord, find me faithful.”  When I cannot control my circumstances, when I cannot make wise decisions for others, when my heart is broken or anxious or confused… find me faithful.  Find me faithful in prayer.  Find me faithful in the Word.  Let the words of my mouth reflect the Truth of God rather than my own deceitful, weedy heart. Find me faithful to take every opportunity I am given to point people to Jesus, rather than to myself.  Let it be my default rather than the weeds of this world.  Show me the little foxes, the rats, the distractions, sins, or places of apathy and find me faithful in the hunt.  God intends an abundant harvest in my life, in yours.   But if we ignore the rodents and the weeds the crop will be meager.  Let my life, my witness, my marriage, my motherhood, my friendships be more productive than my little vegetable garden is this year.

So, poor, dear Mr. McGregor, I am truly sorry for my childhood ignorance.  I know now that you are not the “bad guy” but a faithful gardener.  I envy that lush patch of earth you cultivated.  Well done, Sir.

And now, I have to go put another zucchini plant in the ground.  Lord, find me faithful and persistent!