“See to it that no one takes you captive through hollow and deceptive philosophy, which depends on human tradition and the basic principles of this world rather than on Christ.” Colossians 2:8 (New International Version)
Choices, choices, choices. They line the grocery store shelves, flash at us in commercials, and gleam on billboard signs along the road. Humans have always had to deal with choices, but they are multiplying at an incredible speed. I imagine a path in the forest. There have always been forks in the road, but we no longer see a single division in the path. More, as my friend described it, we see “a labyrinth of complexity.”
With each choice, there is the danger of regret. The “what if” haunts us down the path and we wonder as the path splits again if we should have taken the other way. Like a child who tries to read the “make your own choices” book in a hundred different ways to see the different endings, we try to keep all our doors open, not living life at all. We try to avoid regret by making all the “right” choices. I wonder if this is an example of falling into “hollow and deceptive philosophy” (Col 2:8). It makes sense, it sounds right, but to the Christian something doesn’t “feel” right.
I’m done with regret. Life is not a fork in the path, nor is it a labyrinth of complexity—all that is a mirage. It is a grand lie that our minds create when we think we are in charge. When we let the false lens fall away from our eyes, we see that there really is only one way to go. True regret only results when we don’t follow the One who can show us where to go. He may not use a path at all, but take us through the brush and over creeks to teach us what He wants us to learn.
To a Christian, this rings true. One path, one way. We know Who is the way, but we have not learned to follow Him. When we do learn, making a choice will be just another step following our Lord. The haunting questions of “what if” will not linger down the road because the road not taken is not the road for us.
Dear Lord, help me learn to follow you one step at a time. Make joy the spring in my step, faith the strength in my legs, and love the determination in my devotion to You. I love you.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Watchfulness and thankfulness
“Devote yourselves to prayer, being watchful and thankful.” Colossians 4:2
Has something ever happened that you immediately know is from God? It seems out of the blue…like He just knew what you needed without you even telling Him. On the other hand, sometimes a thing will happen in my life, and I will shrug my shoulders and pocket the blessing without thinking about Who was behind it. When I swerve to avoid a car accident, I breathe a sigh of relief, thinking of the inevitability of statistics, being glad it wasn’t my turn to fill the insurance tables.
My prayers are as careless as my inventory of blessings. I pray, meaning it at the moment, and forgetting it the next. The answer comes, but I have not been watchful, and I think to myself, “Why wasn’t I just more patient? If I had known this was going to happen a week ago, I could have just waited without worrying.”
What I don’t take into account is that my prayers and the prayers of others are having an impact on those blessings. If I hadn’t prayed, would God have moved?
I wonder, how much glory has God received for those forgotten answers? My heart is sad for the multitude of loving gestures from my Father that have gone unthanked. How many thank you’s have been stolen away by my unrealized fatalism? Still more have been swiped by a subtle sense of entitlement to all that is good.
But regret is not where God wants us to live. Little children do not always thank their parents for a trip to McDonald’s, a Buzz Lightyear blanket or a “one more kiss” good-night. They expect it. Only with maturity do they grow to appreciate the many sleepless nights or ER runs endured by their parents with seemingly endless patience.
Up until now in my life, I have not been watchful, and as a result, not been as thankful to my God as I want to be in the future. I was at a point where I did not even see that I needed to be aware of the answers to prayer all around me. I am in a process. I am growing up. I will try again tomorrow, and reflect on my life in a new light.
God, thank you for your eternal provision. Thank you that you remember my prayers, even when I do not remember I mumbled them in the busyness of my life. Teach me to be watchful. Please know how grateful I am for the blessings that I see and especially for the ones I cannot.
Amen.
Has something ever happened that you immediately know is from God? It seems out of the blue…like He just knew what you needed without you even telling Him. On the other hand, sometimes a thing will happen in my life, and I will shrug my shoulders and pocket the blessing without thinking about Who was behind it. When I swerve to avoid a car accident, I breathe a sigh of relief, thinking of the inevitability of statistics, being glad it wasn’t my turn to fill the insurance tables.
My prayers are as careless as my inventory of blessings. I pray, meaning it at the moment, and forgetting it the next. The answer comes, but I have not been watchful, and I think to myself, “Why wasn’t I just more patient? If I had known this was going to happen a week ago, I could have just waited without worrying.”
What I don’t take into account is that my prayers and the prayers of others are having an impact on those blessings. If I hadn’t prayed, would God have moved?
I wonder, how much glory has God received for those forgotten answers? My heart is sad for the multitude of loving gestures from my Father that have gone unthanked. How many thank you’s have been stolen away by my unrealized fatalism? Still more have been swiped by a subtle sense of entitlement to all that is good.
But regret is not where God wants us to live. Little children do not always thank their parents for a trip to McDonald’s, a Buzz Lightyear blanket or a “one more kiss” good-night. They expect it. Only with maturity do they grow to appreciate the many sleepless nights or ER runs endured by their parents with seemingly endless patience.
Up until now in my life, I have not been watchful, and as a result, not been as thankful to my God as I want to be in the future. I was at a point where I did not even see that I needed to be aware of the answers to prayer all around me. I am in a process. I am growing up. I will try again tomorrow, and reflect on my life in a new light.
God, thank you for your eternal provision. Thank you that you remember my prayers, even when I do not remember I mumbled them in the busyness of my life. Teach me to be watchful. Please know how grateful I am for the blessings that I see and especially for the ones I cannot.
Amen.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Ladybug
Ladybug
Little ladybug,
content to creep along the grass
growing tall with springtime seed.
The cool sprinkler rain
beading on your spotted wings.
The curve of your back
stark red against the green;
like an apple
swinging in the wind
its surface broken only by perfect black spots.
I wonder at your slow journey;
quiet, deliberate,
exploring each blade,
content to feel the gentle rocking.
Aspen leaves dance in a flicker of yellow and green
Their rushing like water falling over stones.
Still you creep on
without wonder at the chaos around you;
unaffected by my internal pressure.
A puff of lawn mower smoke,
the ticking of a garden hose,
the smell of an approaching storm,
cannot dampen your peace.
Look up!
A pair of large grey eyes
carefully watches your journey
from a patch of Colorado blue.
My heart grows still and wild at once.
Will the quiet end?
Will you fly away this moment
or the next?
I capture joy,
snapping pictures like a frantic mother
trying to catch a fleeting birthday smile
flashing across a smudged face,
hoping to save it in her heart forever.
Little ladybug,
content to creep along the grass
growing tall with springtime seed.
The cool sprinkler rain
beading on your spotted wings.
The curve of your back
stark red against the green;
like an apple
swinging in the wind
its surface broken only by perfect black spots.
I wonder at your slow journey;
quiet, deliberate,
exploring each blade,
content to feel the gentle rocking.
Aspen leaves dance in a flicker of yellow and green
Their rushing like water falling over stones.
Still you creep on
without wonder at the chaos around you;
unaffected by my internal pressure.
A puff of lawn mower smoke,
the ticking of a garden hose,
the smell of an approaching storm,
cannot dampen your peace.
Look up!
A pair of large grey eyes
carefully watches your journey
from a patch of Colorado blue.
My heart grows still and wild at once.
Will the quiet end?
Will you fly away this moment
or the next?
I capture joy,
snapping pictures like a frantic mother
trying to catch a fleeting birthday smile
flashing across a smudged face,
hoping to save it in her heart forever.
Our intersecting journeys
will diverge.
Our fragile connection
limited by a clock
you cannot feel.
Fly away ladybug, fly
and leave me with this timeful joy,
stolen from a frantic life.
Or rather, have you just delivered
a gift from our Creator?
Mindy Hirst
June 12, 2008
will diverge.
Our fragile connection
limited by a clock
you cannot feel.
Fly away ladybug, fly
and leave me with this timeful joy,
stolen from a frantic life.
Or rather, have you just delivered
a gift from our Creator?
Mindy Hirst
June 12, 2008
Thursday, May 15, 2008
"Because I love you..."
“Because I love you…”
I am learning not to spend so much of my time asking the “why” questions of life. Since many of my questions are posed as a mask to my distrust of God, the answers are not likely the most important ones to ask. So many times, I put the question up as a guard to my heart, making an ultimatum that feels impossible to fulfill. But God can do the impossible.
As I spend more of my life getting to know the “who” of God, the One who knows the answers to all my “why’s,” I begin to believe that He will tell me what I need to know in due time. My mask of questions fall away to reveal the true nature of my heart, and I am free to accept His healing of my pride, fear, and self-righteousness.
In this journey of relationship, new questions spring out from my bond with Him through our many experiences together. He knows my true and intimate story. As He and I write the story of my life day by day, I learn more and more of Him. No longer is my relationship based on the satisfactory answers to my questions, but on His love. Trust is not natural for me, but I can feel it growing.
For so long I have asked these “why” questions, and resigned myself to “putting them on a shelf,” as my mom always described it. I never understood why God, who knows all things, would not just give me the answers and settle my heart. But recently there is an answer that keeps ringing in my heart, quiet and steady. It is, “Because I love you.” My mind asks, “but why—“ and I hear “because I love you.”
It may not be the answer for which I am looking. At times, I may feel anger at this seemingly unfair answer. But the answer remains “because I love you.”
A parent does not always answer a child in the way that she wants. His love for her is not in question, nor is His ability to know. God loves me. God knows the reasons for all things. He also knows what and when I should learn. So as He and I write our story together, I will accept the answers He gives to the questions He chooses.
Jesus, help me not to base my relationship with you on the answers to my questions. Instead, let my questions spring out from my bond with You as my Savior.
I am learning not to spend so much of my time asking the “why” questions of life. Since many of my questions are posed as a mask to my distrust of God, the answers are not likely the most important ones to ask. So many times, I put the question up as a guard to my heart, making an ultimatum that feels impossible to fulfill. But God can do the impossible.
As I spend more of my life getting to know the “who” of God, the One who knows the answers to all my “why’s,” I begin to believe that He will tell me what I need to know in due time. My mask of questions fall away to reveal the true nature of my heart, and I am free to accept His healing of my pride, fear, and self-righteousness.
In this journey of relationship, new questions spring out from my bond with Him through our many experiences together. He knows my true and intimate story. As He and I write the story of my life day by day, I learn more and more of Him. No longer is my relationship based on the satisfactory answers to my questions, but on His love. Trust is not natural for me, but I can feel it growing.
For so long I have asked these “why” questions, and resigned myself to “putting them on a shelf,” as my mom always described it. I never understood why God, who knows all things, would not just give me the answers and settle my heart. But recently there is an answer that keeps ringing in my heart, quiet and steady. It is, “Because I love you.” My mind asks, “but why—“ and I hear “because I love you.”
It may not be the answer for which I am looking. At times, I may feel anger at this seemingly unfair answer. But the answer remains “because I love you.”
A parent does not always answer a child in the way that she wants. His love for her is not in question, nor is His ability to know. God loves me. God knows the reasons for all things. He also knows what and when I should learn. So as He and I write our story together, I will accept the answers He gives to the questions He chooses.
Jesus, help me not to base my relationship with you on the answers to my questions. Instead, let my questions spring out from my bond with You as my Savior.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Living in Liminality
Our worldview is shaped in part by our language, which is shaped by the worldview of its speakers. We are trained from early on to see things in the positive, the foreground, and the defined. But then, the world is not as clear-cut in practice as it is in our language. There is this time of liminality permeating our lives, filling in the cracks between the moments we strive for.
We are so focused away from these moments between things, that the word we have to describe it is not commonly used.
Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.1)
lim•i•nal•i•ty
noun Anthropology.
the transitional period or phase of a rite of passage, during which the participant lacks social status or rank, remains anonymous, shows obedience and humility, and follows prescribed forms of conduct, dress, etc.
________________________________________
[Origin: < L līmin- (s. of līmen) threshold + -AL1 + -ITY ]
Wikipedia uses the example of graduation to describe liminality. “A period during which one is ‘betwixt and between’, ‘neither here nor there’. When the ceremony is in progress, the participants are no longer students but neither are they yet graduates. This is the distinctive character of liminality."
Children live in a perpetual state of liminality. Constantly changing, they barely finish one stage when they transition into the next. We all have witnessed how quickly those awkward toddler steps blend into the junior high years and suddenly it feels as if that small child is in that liminal moment of graduation. As joyful as it is, this process is deeply disturbing to us. It goes against our need to be somewhere.
Most children I know are most uncomfortable between 4-6pm...the time between day and night. Even as infants they fuss as the sun begins to set. Whether they are responding to the discomfort of the adults in the house, or are already forming a worldview that is uncomfortable with liminality (or both), I don't know. In any case, I have many times wished for the time to pass more quickly.
We are taught in art classes to not only look to the foreground, but to purposefully look for the negative space. By training our eye to see the space around something, we actually see the object better. I find it humorous that we call it “negative” space. It shows how deep down it disturbs us. Once we train our eyes to see it, we begin to see the space around everything. In the same way, once we begin to think about liminality, we begin to see it as a constant presence in our lives.
A good family friend always had a framed picture of spots on her wall. She insisted that it was a picture of Jesus, but no matter how much I tried, all I saw was spots. Then, suddenly one day, there He was! Like the picture of spots that suddenly changes into the face of Christ, we can never see the picture of our world the same again.
Liminality is everywhere. Once we are trained to see it, we see it in every moment of our lives. Watching the second hand on a clock, there is a moment when we almost hold our breath, waiting for the hand to tick once again. It is in that moment that we experience liminality. If we're not careful, we might miss it. Focusing on the moment the hand ticks gives us a sense of accomplishment. In a flash, that moment in between vanishes, and we live our lives missing the beauty of the liminal...rushing from one tick in life to the next.
Growth and change are processes, and bring us through countless liminal moments. Work is full of liminality. And it makes us uncomfortable. We crave those moments of being in the middle of something defined. We complain about all the "wasted time" in our lives. Grocery store lines, the time between jobs, that moment when the call is being connected, even the moment when the cookies aren’t quite done or the laundry not quite dry are all moments between defined categories.
The power of learning to live with liminality is that it brings a deeper sense of process to what we do. Our minds are more comfortable with something that has a name, and we can label the in between as liminal. We begin to see it not as the enemy to progress, but as a necessary ingredient to what we’re trying to accomplish. Just as a painting is more beautiful when the negative space is well-thought; living times of liminality well helps us begin to see a depth and beauty in our lives we might not have before. God works in the whole picture of our lives, not just the foreground. What a gift to find that we can allow God to work in the liminal parts of our lives too.
Sources:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Liminality
http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/liminality
We are so focused away from these moments between things, that the word we have to describe it is not commonly used.
Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.1)
lim•i•nal•i•ty
noun Anthropology.
the transitional period or phase of a rite of passage, during which the participant lacks social status or rank, remains anonymous, shows obedience and humility, and follows prescribed forms of conduct, dress, etc.
________________________________________
[Origin: < L līmin- (s. of līmen) threshold + -AL1 + -ITY ]
Wikipedia uses the example of graduation to describe liminality. “A period during which one is ‘betwixt and between’, ‘neither here nor there’. When the ceremony is in progress, the participants are no longer students but neither are they yet graduates. This is the distinctive character of liminality."
Children live in a perpetual state of liminality. Constantly changing, they barely finish one stage when they transition into the next. We all have witnessed how quickly those awkward toddler steps blend into the junior high years and suddenly it feels as if that small child is in that liminal moment of graduation. As joyful as it is, this process is deeply disturbing to us. It goes against our need to be somewhere.
Most children I know are most uncomfortable between 4-6pm...the time between day and night. Even as infants they fuss as the sun begins to set. Whether they are responding to the discomfort of the adults in the house, or are already forming a worldview that is uncomfortable with liminality (or both), I don't know. In any case, I have many times wished for the time to pass more quickly.
We are taught in art classes to not only look to the foreground, but to purposefully look for the negative space. By training our eye to see the space around something, we actually see the object better. I find it humorous that we call it “negative” space. It shows how deep down it disturbs us. Once we train our eyes to see it, we begin to see the space around everything. In the same way, once we begin to think about liminality, we begin to see it as a constant presence in our lives.
A good family friend always had a framed picture of spots on her wall. She insisted that it was a picture of Jesus, but no matter how much I tried, all I saw was spots. Then, suddenly one day, there He was! Like the picture of spots that suddenly changes into the face of Christ, we can never see the picture of our world the same again.
Liminality is everywhere. Once we are trained to see it, we see it in every moment of our lives. Watching the second hand on a clock, there is a moment when we almost hold our breath, waiting for the hand to tick once again. It is in that moment that we experience liminality. If we're not careful, we might miss it. Focusing on the moment the hand ticks gives us a sense of accomplishment. In a flash, that moment in between vanishes, and we live our lives missing the beauty of the liminal...rushing from one tick in life to the next.
Growth and change are processes, and bring us through countless liminal moments. Work is full of liminality. And it makes us uncomfortable. We crave those moments of being in the middle of something defined. We complain about all the "wasted time" in our lives. Grocery store lines, the time between jobs, that moment when the call is being connected, even the moment when the cookies aren’t quite done or the laundry not quite dry are all moments between defined categories.
The power of learning to live with liminality is that it brings a deeper sense of process to what we do. Our minds are more comfortable with something that has a name, and we can label the in between as liminal. We begin to see it not as the enemy to progress, but as a necessary ingredient to what we’re trying to accomplish. Just as a painting is more beautiful when the negative space is well-thought; living times of liminality well helps us begin to see a depth and beauty in our lives we might not have before. God works in the whole picture of our lives, not just the foreground. What a gift to find that we can allow God to work in the liminal parts of our lives too.
Sources:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Liminality
http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/liminality
Thursday, January 24, 2008
A Gift of 35 Years
Late bloomer describes my development—not just in how I grew in stature, but in how I’ve developed on all levels. Many people may be further down life’s road this many birthday’s into the journey, but God put me together to meander, not to sprint. So, at the risk of revealing just how long its taken me to grow up, I want to describe what God’s birthday gift of 35 years means to me.Freedom. God has given me a deep sense of belonging. My identity is no longer in making others happy. I can love other people, not to fulfill my need to be loved and accepted, but because I genuinely love and care for them. This freedom is helping me become more and more honest with myself and others, and it feels good!
Beauty. God has made me unique and lovely. I am more beautiful than ever. Though I may leave youth behind, I have learned to give myself more space and be more forgiving of my weaknesses. I don’t try to measure up to what other people think is beautiful, but have learned to appreciate the unique way God put me together. This is helping me be more confident, which is an attractive quality I didn’t have when I was younger.
Trust. I have experienced God’s character. I have seen God work in my life, and am confident He will continue in the future. He has loved me, and I trust He will continue to love me always.
Contentment. God has always provided my outward and inward needs. When I allow him to take care of me, he always does, and this gives me a deep sense of contentment. I do not have to grasp or strive for things, because I know his provision is deep and wide and ever-expansive.
Peace. God has always covered me with his wings (Psalm 91). There have been difficult things outside his strong and downy protection, but he was always sufficient. For me, this is the gift of peace in the sun and storms.
Joy. When emotions cast their shadow, the light of joy still shines beneath. I have joy in the freedom of belonging; joy in the beauty of creation; joy in the trustworthiness of our Creator; joy and contentment in provision; joy to have peace in any weather; joy in the longing and hope for what is to come.
Thankfulness. All of this makes me deeply thankful. I think this is why I have the wonderful joy of looking forward to my birthday each January. No matter what happens, or what I do on my special day, God gives me a deep sense of thankfulness and love. He made me and chose to put me on this earth at this exact time in history. I can’t help but smile thinking about it.
Longing. Looking back makes me look forward, and I long for what is to come. It’s not only the anticipation for more time on this great earth, but for what comes after. If the fallen state of this planet still holds so much beauty and good, what must the perfection of heaven be like?
Hope. Walking through this life, and the challenges, with God’s provision, gives me hope for the next phase of life, and the next and the next. The familiar fear that used to paralyze me at each life change and challenge is fading, and is being replaced by hope in God’s character.
I still have a long way to go, but looking back and seeing how much I’ve grown is encouraging. Like a child standing tall with his back to the wall, marking his height with a pencil, I feel proud to see the graphite mark this year, tracking my growth. And with the blowing out of the candles, I open these gifts from God: freedom, beauty, trust, contentment, peace, joy, thankfulness, longing, and hope.
Monday, January 21, 2008
Is Marketing Manipulation or Good Communication?
It's easy to package things together and not be able to separate them. In my house, Fridays go with pizza, but it doesn’t have to be this way. Pizza can exist without Friday and the reverse, but it's hard to imagine.
This is the danger with stereotypes. Not all characteristics fit all the people. The same dilemma exists with values and behaviors. If we hold a certain value, we tend to lump behaviors, style and all sorts of things when we think about following that value. But things change over time, and every once in awhile, we need to do a little reorganizing. Something that was useful at one time, may no longer serve a purpose. Realizing this can free us to separate motive with style.
This principle can be applied to communication. Many may disagree, but there is no neutral communication. Communication comes out of the hearts of people. It is the world interpreted through people and re-sent out, then assimilated through another individual. Emotions, thought, experience all go into the sending and receiving. So it is important for Christians to constantly be aware of their heart when communicating. I think we see this message in Proverbs 10:19.
"When words are many, sin is not absent,
but he who holds his tongue is wise." (NIV)
To stop and think is wise. But at the same time, there are places in the scripture that call us to speak. So, the goal isn’t to be quiet always, just to speak what and when we should.
Psalm 37:30 says, "The mouth of the righteous man utters wisdom, and his tongue speaks what is just." (NIV)
In Christian work, we tend to lump the need to “market” in missions and churches with guilt over materialism and other values we try to avoid. Marketing communications has so changed our way of giving and receiving information, that the two should no longer be tied together. People have a hard time receiving a message if it is not packaged in a way they have been trained to receive it.
While it is good for a church or mission to commit to the principles of non-manipulation and trusting God, it is not accurate to assume that any communication that smells of marketing would taint that commitment. To do so is a decision to not communicate effectively—especially to those who do not know a time where messages were not packaged. We need to think through ways that we can connect with people to communicate our needs while still trusting God.
It isn’t easy to communicate with a pure heart when the world has trained us all to receive messages in the style of sales and marketing, but it isn’t wise to stop communicating because we do not like how our culture and language have changed.
This is the danger with stereotypes. Not all characteristics fit all the people. The same dilemma exists with values and behaviors. If we hold a certain value, we tend to lump behaviors, style and all sorts of things when we think about following that value. But things change over time, and every once in awhile, we need to do a little reorganizing. Something that was useful at one time, may no longer serve a purpose. Realizing this can free us to separate motive with style.
This principle can be applied to communication. Many may disagree, but there is no neutral communication. Communication comes out of the hearts of people. It is the world interpreted through people and re-sent out, then assimilated through another individual. Emotions, thought, experience all go into the sending and receiving. So it is important for Christians to constantly be aware of their heart when communicating. I think we see this message in Proverbs 10:19.
"When words are many, sin is not absent,
but he who holds his tongue is wise." (NIV)
To stop and think is wise. But at the same time, there are places in the scripture that call us to speak. So, the goal isn’t to be quiet always, just to speak what and when we should.
Psalm 37:30 says, "The mouth of the righteous man utters wisdom, and his tongue speaks what is just." (NIV)
In Christian work, we tend to lump the need to “market” in missions and churches with guilt over materialism and other values we try to avoid. Marketing communications has so changed our way of giving and receiving information, that the two should no longer be tied together. People have a hard time receiving a message if it is not packaged in a way they have been trained to receive it.
While it is good for a church or mission to commit to the principles of non-manipulation and trusting God, it is not accurate to assume that any communication that smells of marketing would taint that commitment. To do so is a decision to not communicate effectively—especially to those who do not know a time where messages were not packaged. We need to think through ways that we can connect with people to communicate our needs while still trusting God.
It isn’t easy to communicate with a pure heart when the world has trained us all to receive messages in the style of sales and marketing, but it isn’t wise to stop communicating because we do not like how our culture and language have changed.
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