Category Archives: Freedom

Live Like You were Dying or My Life is in YOU, Lord

December 23, 2014Busyness, Freedom, joy, Live like you are dying, personal growth, waitinglouise

Not long after high school my boyfriend and I were floating on rafts about 100 feet off shore when we saw a huge dorsal fin. “Jaws” had come out not long before; I truly thought I was about to die.

I was a believer, so I called out to Jesus, right? Nope. My near death thoughts surprised even me. I still remember a vivid moment of regret — wishing I had experienced a little more of what this world had to offer, instead of dying young, naive and well-behaved.

When death feels imminent, we get honest about who we are, what we believe, and what we really want. That day God exposed all the worldly idolatry that gripped my good-girl heart.

Recently my Bible study group had the privilege of meeting with a friend who has stage 4 cancer. He’s lived well past his prognosis — shifting between cities, doctors and treatments in an Herculean effort to beat the odds one more time. I highly encourage you to read his story and all God is doing through it in his excellent blog.

He doesn’t accept the cancer pass on doing good deeds that the world offers him, but strives to live well and serve others. Jesus is his life, and life is more precious to him than ever.

His joy is evident as he tells stories, preaches, teaches and generally blesses everyone God places in his path. He’s honest, humble, vulnerable, wise, loving and possibly more fully alive than anyone I know. Despite cancer, it seems he’s having fun! I’m still mulling over thoughts from my morning with Ed.

I’ve been wondering: Why are all of us not living more like Ed? Death is everyone’s imminent reality. We may not make it until bedtime or we could live to be 100. Regardless, our time on earth is finite and fleeting as compared to eternity.

What is my day-to-day life saying about who I worship? Why am I not more vulnerable, grateful, bold, joyful and in love with Jesus? Why should I be trusting in anything but Him? Why do I think I can “live like I was dying” at any time but the present?

The idea that I allow anything to trump God as the center of my devotion is horrifying. Yet I’m afraid my flesh is still much like it was that day with the shark. At 18, I had goals to accomplish and experience. Prayer meant asking His blessings on my plans and ideas.

Now I’m 50. Do I still want to do things my way? To follow the world’s prescriptions? Do other people and things feel more urgent and important than the God who created me and loves me? Am I consistently trusting in Jesus or is my flesh finding its security elsewhere?

Despite God’s work in my heart, I frequently mess up my priorities. I know the Truth from experience — that God is my sufficiency, my joy and my first love. But it takes my intentional daily surrender in time spent with Him for me to live in this Truth. Sadly, I don’t always give Him the time I want to —

Unchecked, my flesh still believes the lies that say life is found in all that brings comfort, ease and enjoyment. I chase after the good this world offers with all my heart, soul, strength and mind — and fit Jesus in as often as I can. No matter how often I pray, my priorities say my full devotion to God is saved for the proverbial “tomorrow,” after I’ve consumed all I can, and things aren’t so busy and pressing.

The Bible calls my problem idolatry. Colossians 3:5-6 says “Put to death what is earthly in you, sexual immorality, impurity, evil desire and covetousness, which is idolatry. On account of these the wrath of God is coming.”

Idolatry can also describe things that are originally good gifts from God. When placed ahead of our devotion to God, even a spouse, children or parents, school, ambitions, church service, jobs, friends, homes, health — anything becomes an idol if it trumps God in achieving our devotion and attention.

God’s jealousy is righteous. John Piper teaches that God deserves our deepest affections and admiration. His is also “a loving jealousy, because we were made to find our greatest joy when He is our greatest treasure… if we find God to be so boring or so negligible that we must put other things in his place that really satisfy us more than he does, then we not only offend him, but we also destroy ourselves. And those two things make God angry… And idolatry contradicts both of those things and so his wrath comes upon the idolater.”

At Christmas, we celebrate something mind blowing — the most powerful and joyous event ever! The Creator of the universe left His perfect heaven, became a baby who grew into a man — fully God and fully human. A man who lived a holy life, suffered and died. Why would He do this?

Jesus came to save us from ourselves, our sins and idolatry. He not only asks that we live like we are dying but that we DO DIE to ourselves, so that we may really live — today! Here on earth. Jesus deserves my first fruits of time, attention and love — without any close seconds. He asks that I put nothing before Him for any reason. Can we turn from our idolatry and give Jesus the gift of our love and devotion this Christmas, before and above anything else? Can we tell Him, Jesus, You are my Life?

Luke 9:23 – And he said to [them] all, If any [man] will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me.
Galatians 5:24 – And they that are Christ’s have crucified the flesh with the affections and lusts.
Mark 8:35 – For whosoever will save his life shall lose it; but whosoever shall lose his life for my sake and the gospel’s, the same shall save it.

Merry Christmas! If you would like to receive future posts by email, please note below in comments. You can unsubscribe anytime.

EVERY Moment is REAL

November 17, 2014Freedom, gratitude, joy, Like a little child, loneliness, personal growthlouise

In this blog I do my best not to tidy up the stories of my life. I try to be tastefully honest and thoroughly authentic. It’s hard enough making our way — we don’t need to live under the illusion that every body else has it all together and figured out.

My writing isn’t meant to be advice for Christian living — many others are much better resources for that. I’m a stumbling, searching, developing, grateful sojourner. Someone trying not to be churchy, but to know and love Jesus and to follow His purpose for my life.

I don’t think we reach our destination this side of heaven, but to persevere on the journey of seeking God, keeping Him first, and following His will is important. Otherwise put — I feel the tension between what the Bible says and how my cushy story reads.

I’m committed to change, struggle and sacrifice as God leads. I want to discover what my part is in God’s kingdom on earth. I’ve lived with Him enough to know it’s SO worth it when I follow Him. He is faithful to restore and renew all I offer to Him — and in surrender I’ve found a joy I never knew before — and I want to share that!

Culturally, it’s not always acceptable to reveal our hearts to others. We find it difficult to be ourselves because we’d prefer to be popular and successful than risk possible rejection by being REAL. When we encounter genuine self-disclosure and sincerity, we take notice — like a person’s profound last words. It’s expected we’ll be emotional and wax philosophical from our death beds. My challenge: why wait until old-age or tragedy hits to get real with others?

Even after many edits to my blogs, it’s difficult to publish. It’s even harder to put myself out there in REAL life. Usually God’s refining work isn’t accomplish when I’m strong and competent. God molds me at my lowest, ugliest, most difficult moments — where He can work miracles attributable to none other than His hand. I offer my stories, because sometimes it’s easier to relate to a fellow hot-mess than an authority on a subject.

It would be horrible for us to think that we’e the only ones who sometimes feel left out or lonely. Incompetent, unloved, frumpy, tired, or like we’re too much and too little all at once. That we’re way too busy, but haven’t done nearly enough. Insecure and unsure, even fearful at times about so many things. To think that we are unique in our doubt and struggles would be so discouraging and useless.

Let me digress a moment to say it’s just as important to share the triumphs, joy, hope and peace God offers us as it is to share the valleys. BOTH exist in every journey, and both are REAL moments to be lived and shared to the Glory of God.

Just as we hide our weaknesses, we also tend to be too embarrassed to admit the gifts God gives us and the transformational work He accomplishes in us. We’re afraid people will think we’re arrogant if we acknowledge God’s healing in our sin and brokenness. Or worse, we forget the work and blessings of God are all grace, and we take credit ourselves — then project false modesty. Neither is very God-honoring, attractive, or helpful in encouraging others.

We all struggle sometimes, both in hardships and blessings. We aren’t always graceful and merciful to ourselves (or others) in the midst of them. Instead, we often judge too quickly and hide our neediness so deeply that our hearts are never healed by God nor are our experiences helpful to others.

When we ignore, hoard or bury the real moments of life that don’t suit the image of ourselves we want to believe and project, we playact. We build glass sets representing our beliefs about what life should be, and by wearing masks and costumes we carefully orchestrate what the world sees through our walls. We even believe our own scripts.

We cheat ourselves and those whose company is entrusted to us of the encouragement, hope, empathy and compassion that comes from living and sharing real lives. Only in the truth of the present moment can we love God and one another.

Just last week I forgot my identity: fully accepted and worthy in Christ. I forgot He loves me just as I am, and that I can rest secure that He’ll provide all I need to accomplish His will. I forgot I live to please an audience of one —

I felt insecure and self-conscious, so I tried to cover up by getting dressed up. I worked really hard on my hair and make up. I made three different wardrobe changes, chose one, and then started all over again to match a better pair of shoes. I wanted to look just so: stylishly hip and together — why?

Girl’s night. I don’t know about you, but I can be the very least sure of myself in the presence of a group of women — Christians or not. I felt so much pressure to impress, fit in and even to appear “Godly.” To look more appealing and together than I am. I thought I needed to be an attractive Christian in order to represent Jesus well (embarrassing and laughable, I know).

I left home knowing I definitely wasn’t rocking my “costume.” I was reluctant to go, quite certain the “real me” was fully exposed and on display. My flesh was ugly, self-serving and ridiculous.

Thankfully, I came out of hiding, and low key me fit in fine with these beautiful and gracious women. We laughed and shared our experiences with menopause, teen-aged mean girls (young actresses) and our stressed-out schedules. We talked about the current highs and lows of our families. We shared REAL life in the moment. I think Jesus was glad, and he’ll further develop relationships or not as he sees fit.

We all desire community like this. To matter to the ones who matter to us. The ones we risk to show our real selves to in the unrehearsed and un-edited moments of life. That night we were authentic. As a result, I left dinner feeling renewed. That gathering wasn’t a coincidence but a life-giving gift and lesson from God, and I almost blew it trying to make it something else.

Why don’t we approach all of life’s social interactions as a gift and opportunity? I think that taunting voice that begins somewhere in our pre-teen years plays a role. It reminds us of every time we were excluded or ignored. It says we aren’t quite right for the in-crowd, and tells us some others aren’t quite right for us. We panic, because we were created in the image of God for community.

What if instead of conforming and chasing our agendas, we looked for real moments of focused presence with the people God places in our daily paths. Why not invest in rich community with them — even if briefly? The truth is we’re all left out of some things — but that’s only half the story. As Christians, we are also members of the most wonderful, exciting, joyful body on earth — and we’re commanded to encourage one another and invite others to join us.

Having the courage to honestly connect is often the first step toward obeying the Great Commission. It means risking being real, which invites rejection. We have to care enough about a hurting world to listen. Empathize. Serve. Encourage. We earn the right through honest realationship to share our stories and the Gospel with others who don’t know Him.

We have to be courageous enough to admit that we’re no better or more together in our flesh than the next person. To give Jesus credit for everything good in us or done through us… And then to leave the reactions of others and all the results and glory to God.

We know we bring nothing to God but our sin, and that we’re saved by divine grace. When I let that truth really soak in, I am amazed by His mercy and less caught up in myself. I want to encourage others and offer them the same hope Jesus gives me. God made us to need each other. The REAL you and the REAL me sharing REAL moments together.

If you would like to receive future posts by email, comment below and check the appropriate boxes. You can unsubscribe at any time. 😉

The Serious Business of Playing

November 7, 2014Freedom, joy, Like a little child, personal growthlouise

Last night I spent 45 minutes exposing my complete incompetence. I was awkward, vulnerable, slow — and in the process, I was also delighted, energized and had an absolute blast! I left that time of inadequacy feeling exhilarated and wanting to share the new life that had been breathed into me.

It’s all about child’s play. Stay with me to see how playing is necessary and life giving!

I’m taking piano lessons — something new and completely outside my skill set. I grew up as more of a tomboy than musician, and like most adults who can’t play an instrument, I wish someone had forced me to stick with it when I was eight. Rob wanted to take guitar lessons, so why not learn something new myself? We enrolled in the music school at church. It sounded like a great empty nester activity.

I showed up the first night without giving much thought to what would transpire or how I would feel as a novice. As soon as I walked in the room, self-consciousness enveloped me. When he asked me to play something I knew, my mind went blank and I froze.

I’m every bit a beginner — like a little child, but different in one big way: the adult expectations I place on myself. I’m tense and impatient with my fumbling fingers. I know enough to recognize every wrong note. My adult expectations are an impediment to my learning and enjoyment. Negative self-talk abounds: “Wrong note! That didn’t sound right. I’m so bad at this… will I ever learn?” Adults aren’t used to being in situations where we’re inept: bungling, amateurish, and incapable.

My teacher, Steven is patient, encouraging and accepting. I arrive for lessons with anxiety, but he helps me to relax and enjoy music.

Tonight was my third lesson, and I was exhausted. Fatigue distracted me just driving to my lesson… you can imagine how poorly I was making music. Still, Steven said I looked (not sounded) more like a pianist. I didn’t really get it, but I was childishly giddy at my supposed progress — and felt a little life.

Possibly because I was struggling to translate the music into any obedience from my fingers, we practiced scales. I tried to relax my wrists between chords, as suggested. Funny how tense my whole body was; I was even holding my breath. I was pathetic. Literally, I couldn’t press three keys at the same time. We remediated my exercises a bit…

Maybe it was a God-thing when Steven related learning the piano to sports… something clicked for me.

straight from the pages of my 7th grade yearbook – lol

More than raw athleticism or good form, my mind game was my strong suit in tennis and basketball. By that I mean my ability to stay positive — to shake off my mistakes and have fun no matter what — often helped me succeed against more talented competitors.

I began playing both sports at a very young age — before I had many expectations for myself. Play was about fun. Relaxing, full of wonder, creativity, experimentation, and laughter. I shot baskets in the back yard and hit balls against the garage wall for hours. It fed my imagination with possibilities and my soul with life.

Concepts like work, practice and mastery weren’t a part. I was a little girl just playing, consumed in the present moment. Unselfconscious and excited with each little success. I created games around what I COULD do — and I always “won.” Curiosity and experimentation were just part of the game. I was a sponge for learning new thing and free to enjoy the whole process.

Can I bring those beautiful, childish qualities to my adult piano practice? I think so! Learning piano is a humbling reminder of my limitations — a great place to find enjoyment and identity NOT in what I accomplish, but in being myself with God and his creation (in this case, music). This shift in attitude would be fun, and perfectly in line with my true goal: I just want to “perform” praise songs and 70s rock when I’m home alone!

Hmmm. I think the application could be even broader. Could the experience of exposing my incompetence while having a blast in piano lessons help me to live all of my life more like a little child? Is it healthy to playfully display our vulnerabilities and weaknesses? To not take ourselves so seriously? Maybe so. I think this piano lesson mentality could grow into an attitude and lifestyle.

In Matthew 10:15 Jesus says “Truly I tell you, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.” It becomes clear to those listening to Jesus that heaven is not gained by human achievement or merit; it must be received as God’s gift through the simple trust of those who acknowledge their own inability, and accept His gift of salvation. Could the same be true of receiving abundant life?

The Bible describes us as children of God. As such, doesn’t it make sense that we should possess many qualities common to young children? Not those derived from immaturity, but rather those that reflect our dependence, wonder, humility, vulnerability, and receptiveness? Maybe one of the things He had in mind was that we, who are distracted by many important things, must rediscover a childlike capacity to play?

In all our focus on productivity and seriousness (including much of our “play”), we’ve made life rather dull. God is not boring! Rediscovering playfulness, which ultimately comes in union with Christ, puts the fullness of life back in our living. “Wasting time” doing things for the sheer fun of it restores our souls. Isn’t it possible that God means for “recreation” to re-create and renew us?

Laughter, fun and light-hearted play remind us to be fully engaged, but not to take the work of our present day with ultimate seriousness. It’s not a call to irresponsibility or a slacker mentality, rather a reminder that God’s future, which is also part of our present, is most serious. God is in control and working all things for good according to His plan. Our work is central, but it is a subset within the BIG picture. A play-ethic is a good counterbalance to our work-ethic.

It seems to me that play was an original and important part of the fourth commandment to Sabbath rest. Developing a Sabbath heart has the added benefit of bringing an attitude of playfulness to all of life and work. Our willingness to accept the play, rest and refreshment that Jesus offers is a sign of our faithfulness and trust in Him.

It works like magic, when I sit at that rickety bench for my piano lessons. The world’s obligations melt away. I am fully present in the moment — like a little child in Jesus’s lap accepting the bread of life. And the funny thing is — I’m no longer tired when I leave.

Similarly, God made our world a magical playground for us to enjoy. Jumping dolphin, hummingbirds, tumbling puppies. Ski slopes, water, woods and mountains. Music, art, sports and books. Gardens, spices, weather and people. The list and the variety is endless. All remind us of God — who He is and who we are in Him.

Childlike refreshment. I feel it as I exhale and rise from this — another artistic keyboard. God’s pleasure and my renewal as I go to make up beds, grocery shop, cook and clean — with a new bounce in my step and a song in my heart. A little taste of heaven on earth.