Category Archives: christian perfection

Ruby Tuesdays: A Mighty Woman (part one)

Last week, Refresh Mom posted a meme of sorts (what does that word mean anyway?) on her blog called “Ruby Tuesdays”. You can read more about it here. If you’ve been reading my blog for any length of time, you probably understand that I’m not one for this type of thing; still and yet, something drew me toward this one, and today I make my first offering in a series of Tuesday posts that will be directly linked to my thoughts about the Proverbs 31 woman. I know that http://refreshmoments.com/welcomes your participation in Ruby Tuesdays at any level.

“A wife of noble character who can find? She is worth far more than rubies.” (Proverbs 31:10).

She’s always bothered me, this P31 woman. Not for the reasons you might think. I’m all about her flaxen and her early morning arrivals to the scene of her life. Her trading and her sewing, her spinning and her wisdom. Indeed, all noble qualities of an exceptional woman … back then. But this is now, and sometimes, it’s hard to draw the parallel between the two.What bothers me about her is that I’m not her. I don’t imagine that in my wildest imaginings I will ever hold that honor. And to be honest with you, a part of me resents her as my standard—bearer, the measuring stick to be used for my measuring up.

That being said, her epitaph is a worthy read. After all, it’s a part of holy writ—intended for contemplation and assimilation. And while I don’t reason her to be the sum total of my perfection, I think her life worthy of more than my immediate dismissal. It’s an itch that I need to scratch, if for nothing more than to find the ointment to soothe the ache between what I am and what God longs for me to be.

A rare find.

A woman worth more than rubies. A woman of noble character.

Noble. Chayil in the Hebrew language, a masculine noun meaning, “strength, might, ability, and efficiency.”[i]

Thus, a loose translation of Proverbs 31:10 … “A wife of strength, might, ability, and efficiency, who can find? She is more valuable than rubies.”

To understand the depth of such a statement, one must understand the worthy nature of a ruby. Accordingly, my contemplation begins.

1. A ruby is one of four precious gemstones, the others being a sapphire, emerald, and diamond. Precious gemstones are less common requiring a harder dig and a more intensive search, therefore increasing their value; semi-precious stones are more readily available, easier to find, and easier to pocket.

A woman of noble character, therefore, is a precious gem, less common and more valuable.

2. A ruby is admired and cherished for its color. Its color ranges from pink to blood red, with a vivid, medium dark-toned red (sometimes coined as a “pigeon red blood”) being the most desirable. Another words, the richer and deeper the hue, the more valuable the stone.

A woman of noble character, therefore, is a woman who exhibits the rich and the deep of a sacrificial blood.

3. A ruby is valuable because of its hardness. Hardness is a term used to describe the durability of a substance. The harder the gemstone, the higher its resistance to various kinds of shape change when force is applied.[ii]

A woman of noble character, therefore, is a woman not easily shaped by outside forces. Instead, her tough exterior allows her the careful protection over her tender interior.

4. A ruby carries imperfections within. The inclusions of rutile within the ruby verify its authenticity. Rutile is a mineral resembling silk like needles or slender crystals that occur naturally within the formation of certain stones over time. Rather than detracting from a ruby’s worth, it adds value because of its capacity to create asterism.

A woman of noble character, therefore, is a woman who allows her “needles” their place toward exemplifying her worth.

5. With multiple rutile intersecting at the correct angles, a ruby holds the capacity for asterism. Asterism is an “exclusive light effect (which we called special optical phenomenon) of some crystal. When light pass through these crystals, its exhibit [is] a star-shaped figure, which [is] called “asterism”. This figure is produced by reflected or transmitted light.”[iii] For one to “see” the asterism, the stone must be illuminated.

A woman of noble character, therefore, is a woman who allows her needles the Light’s illumination from within and behind in order to project the beauty of her star to an outward audience.

Thus, a ruby…

is a precious and harder to find gemstone.
is colored with the rich and deep of a sacrificial red.
is hard and resistant to the insistence of outside forces.
is filled with needle-like imperfections.
contains the capacity for a star’s illumination.

A woman of strength and might, a P31 woman?

Well, all of this and more. Indeed, who can find a woman like that? Better still, who can shape and mold a woman accordingly?

Only One. And He did. And He does. And He is and will always be…

the Light—our behind the scenes illumination—who purifies and refines our inward so that our outward becomes the stuff of star status. A noble and sacred beholding that points the way to Jesus and that leads the way to his heart.

May He be found in me this day. May He be found in you also. Thus, I pray…

Let me be a rare find in your kingdom today, Lord. Refine my imperfections for your glory, and shine your light through me so that others might see your star and find their way home. You are the Star, Father, not me. Forgive me for ever thinking otherwise. Make me strong; make me mighty; make me holy, and keep me willing and on the path to your perfection in me. How I long to be a precious jewel in your crown. Amen.

 

Copyright © March 2009 – Elaine Olsen

[i] http://studylight.org/desk/?l=en&query=Proverbs+31&section=0&translation=nsn&oq=&sr=1
[ii] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hardness
[iii] http://www.jewelinfo4u.com/Asterism_in_Gems.aspx

~elaine

PS: Congrats to Beth E. She’s the winner of a family resource from the previous post. Please email me your selection, Beth!

A Sabbath Pause, Some Parenting Thoughts, and a Giveaway

A Sabbath Pause, Some Parenting Thoughts, and a Giveaway

It’s been a good Sabbath rest for me and my family. The highlight?

Watching my almost twenty-year-old son as he stood in our church fellowship hall, serving up drinks over the noon-time meal. Why?

Because I was reminded, once again, about the fine young man that he’s becoming and that his growing up Godly has been no accidental pursuit. It’s been a hard-fought deliberation—a combination of parental intention, his cooperation, and a whole lot of grace served downward from on high.

I blinked and nearly two decades of my life have traveled the miles and through the years and enveloped my best efforts at parenting within the flesh and frame of a boy whom I call Nick. And while I cannot predict (or would even want to) how the next twenty are going to breathe, today I bask in the truth that growing Godly kids is not only possible, but it is probable when done so through the trust and faith in a God who’s brought into the process … a lot.

Nick, along with a dozen other members of our church, will return to Bolivia this summer for more mission work at the Kory Wawanca Children’s Home in the mountainous region of Tacachia. Remember his post from last summer? My husband will not be making the trip this time, and so there’s a bit of a sting in this mother’s heart for the release of my son to his journey–a journey without any parental involvement to go alongside … at least not in the physical.

Still and yet, my worries about the potential risks involved wouldn’t keep him from it. Life is filled with risk … with unknowns … with walks along the street where the corners up ahead provide all manner of intrigue and possibility. And while, as a mother, I would sometimes like to be the one to absorb those corners on behalf of my children, I am fairly confident that it would stunt their growth. Mine too.

Parenting involves a great deal of trust for the process of an eighteen year seeding and beyond. At some point, our influence—our shaping and our guidance—needs some room to breathe apart from us. Rarely is it an easy approach to these moments, but it is a necessary one. It is a good walk and a good trust and good growing for all parties involved.

Thus, Bolivia and Nick without any parents this time, yet fully and completely with the God who held him first and who loves him best. It’s time to turn that corner, friends, and I am ready for some new growth as a mom.

Perhaps, some of you are in your own season of “letting go” and learning to trust the process of your parenting. Perhaps many of you are still in the midst of the training years. Perhaps, there are a few of you who are profoundly longing for your turn at this parenting thing. Regardless of your station in the journey—whether in the prelude, in the middle, or in the aftermath—parenting is a sacred trust and should not be entered into lightly.

It is a profundity that exceeds expectation. A complexity that forces the issue of our maturity. In the end, I am confident that God will use my parenting as a tool toward my perfection. Kids do that … perfect us in a way that would otherwise be missed should we decide to go it alone. Nick has offered me ample opportunities for growth along the way. There are three others who follow him and who will, undoubtedly, continue to proffer me many occasions for growth—mine and theirs. They still walk under my umbrella of influence; they still eat and sleep at the hands of my provision.

And until they walk in independence from my 24/7 constant vigilance, I have a few moments of profound persuasion left within my control. Thus, I will spend them on behalf of kingdom shaping and kingdom purposes so that when the time comes for my children’s autonomous launch from the nest, I can let them go knowing that they go with the truth of Jesus. What they choose to do with that truth is their choice to make, but they will make an informed decision because their parents were willing to sow some seed toward that end while they were yet young.

It is all that I can do. It is the best that I can give. It is the daily choice that I will continue to make for as long as God allows me the journey … corners and all. May I always have the good sense to walk them with the good grace of heaven as my guide. As always,

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As promised, friends, I’ve compiled a short list of some resources that might be helpful to you in your daily life of “doing” family. It is by no means exhaustive, but rather is a jumping off point for you to seek some further guidance in many of the areas that I addressed in my recent posts about purity. Take time to review some of these resources by clicking on the highlighted words, which will link you to the corresponding website.

Leave a comment to today’s post, and I will draw a name to receive a copy of one of the books or CD resources listed. The winner will be announced on Tuesday. You do not need to be a parent to win a prize. All are eligible! Peace to you and yours as you walk this week beneath the light and comfort of Almighty God.

  • The Focus on the Family website is always a good place to begin with all things parenting and family related.
  • One of our favorite family resources from Focus on the Family has been the “Adventures in Odyssey” listening series. Our children have grown up with Mr. Whitaker and Whit’s End and all things Odyssey. Great for road trips and for listening to after bedtime tucks and prayers. I promise! I’ve been addicted for years.
  • Plugged in online: movie reviews/ music reviews/ television reviews. This has been an invaluable resource to us as a family as we make the weekly Blockbuster run for movies!
  • BSafe Online: filter for home computers…very restrictive, but can be tweaked according to parental preferences.

Focus on the Family Radio Interviews (CD’s):

Book resources:

Vicky Courtney Resources:

Running Above Our Average

Running Above Our Average

“Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize. (1 Corinthians 9:24).


I didn’t mean to find them.

They were hidden there amidst the accolades of my former season: diplomas, caps and gowns, tassels and cords, a Master’s Thesis, my first diary, my first attempts at creative writing neatly organized in a bright yellow folder. A banker’s box worth of yesterdays was crammed at the back of my attic and the purposeful intention behind my husband’s search a few nights ago.

I was looking for a high school photograph of myself. What I found, instead, was a treasure trove of memories. All of them precious. All except one.

I don’t know why I saved it. Of all the many gracious and tender mementos that I had packed away for future viewing, I’m at a loss as to why I kept this one.

A battered blue pocket folder filled with eleven papers that I had written for my Advanced Composition Class during my freshman year at college. All typed on onion skin paper. All amply marked with “red,” and all of them, every last one of them, crowned with the academic genius of a “C.”

Average papers, friends. The problem? I wasn’t an average student. “C’s” were not my portion. At least not in the academic realm. Life, perhaps a different matter, but when it came to grades, I made the grade. Needless to say, when I pulled out that memory, my heart skipped a beat as I recalled the disappointment that I had felt when receiving those grades over twenty years ago. And while my husband and senior son provided their good humored ribbing alongside their accompanying shock, I quietly nursed some old wounds that reared their ugly in vivid detail.

It’s been happening to me a lot lately … this retrieval of old and sometimes painful memories. I’m not sure as to the exact reason why, but I think that it has something to do with an upcoming talk that I will be presenting about becoming “a living stone from brokenness”—my life of almost forty-three years presented in a forty-five minute nutshell. And friends, that’s a whole lot of broken crammed into a very small window of opportunity.

I have my outline and pages of corresponding back-up material ready to go. There is even a scripturally based “formula” prepared for taking my listeners, even as I have taken myself, from a state of brokenness toward a state of repair. But for all of the words that I have planned in advance, for all of the preparations that I have put into this one event, none have touched me so deeply as the ones that have presented themselves to me in vivid and living color over the past few weeks.

Real people. Real situations. Real memories. Real brokenness.

And here’s what I think, especially as it pertains to those of us who are endeavoring to humbly walk our accompanying talk.

Whatever God is “working on” in us, whatever he is refining and tweaking in us toward his good purposes and our perfected end, this is the very thing that he allows to confront us in raw and unedited ways. At unsuspecting times and, yet, in perfectly determined measure.

I’ve come to expect God’s unexpected; thus, when it arrives, I have a choice to make. I can bury it, or I can run with it to see where Father God will lead. And since burying usually leaves me as I am, I am prone to choosing the latter because I’ve finally come to the conclusion that running with God is his intended adventure for this heart of mine.

Accordingly, I ran with my battered blue folder all the way to my computer on a prompt from my son.

“Let’s Google this guy and see if we can find him, mom.”

Within seconds, I had access to this professor who was responsible for the blight on my academic record and for my former status as “average.” On a whim, I emailed him, reminding him of my presence in his classroom and about the amount of red ink that he so willingly expended on my behalf. Our families were acquainted with one another. Growing up in a small town and attending the corresponding college dictates a familiarity between the “locals” that is rarely gleaned in a larger arena.

Consequently, I was fairly confident that he would make the connection. He did, and the next morning a beautiful and humble response was waiting for me in my “inbox.” He acknowledged his “fussiness” over his grading in the past and went on to thank me for introducing him to the second half of my life. He’s added “peace for the journey” to his favorites list and also shared with me about some of the personal pain that he is currently experiencing in his own life.

In return, I thanked him for his gracious reply and for the privilege of praying on behalf of his family. I did pray, and I will continue to do so. Why?

Because God intends for me to run with him wherever the wind blows. And just this week, it blew me backward and then forward again to land me in a better place of understanding—a holier place of perception that breathes with the living pulse of an eternal Father who promises to work all of my “things” … all of your things … toward his good and perfect end.

And that end, dear ones, is anything but average. It rates much higher than a “C”, and for the record, it carries the red marks of a Savior’s love who isn’t content to leave us as we are, but who bled all over the pages of our manuscripts so that we could carry him as the most treasured memory of our always.

Unexpected moments—the real and raw and perfectly timed occasions of doing life with Jesus. I’m ready to run. I hope that your heart cries out for the same. Thus I pray…

Keep us to our run, Father, and to our willingness to embrace your wind beneath our feet as it blows. Let not the brokenness from our yesterdays prevent us from our healing in our today. Instead, use them as your building blocks for our tomorrows—for the seasons that are waiting to breathe in fullness because we’ve entrusted our past into your faithful and tender care. Take it all, Lord, and use it for your glory—my history and my now. Humbly I offer them both for your gracious and completed end. Amen.

Copyright © February 2009 – Elaine Olsen

~elaine

PS: Just in case you’re wondering, Mr. Professor’s red ink was warranted. After reading some of those papers…

Have mercy! Shalom.

Crossroads

“This is what the LORD says: ‘Stand at the crossroads and look; ask for the ancient paths, ask where the good way is, and walk in it, and you will find rest for your souls. But you said, ‘We will not walk in it.’” (Jeremiah 6:16).

“If you write conviction, elaine, you’d better live conviction or else be prepared for conviction to find its way to your table.”

God’s message to me in my spirit moments ago. Fast and certain and with resolute clarity while I was washing my face. I kept repeating it for fear that I would forget it before finding my pen. It happens sometimes. God impresses his thoughts upon my heart, and I cannot help but give them ample room to grow. To breathe their depth as I take the time to unpack them before God and his Word.

Tonight I unpack them alongside the prophet Jeremiah’s pen as he scripted God’s heart to a people who had lost their way. To God’s dearly beloved, who were instructed to stand at the crossroads and to examine the path before them. Behind them. To the left and to the right of them, and then to ask God for his directional good—those ancient paths that secured safe passage to his place of rest.

His heart.

It would have been easy for them to find their way home if they had been willing to stand at the crossroads. But they weren’t, they didn’t, and consequently, they found themselves on the road toward a restless exile and a formidable captivity. Nothing good and certainly no rest came for those who were adamant to keep walking without pausing at the crossroads.

God’s crossroads, not theirs.

We all come to a crossroads at least once in our lives. Some of us, multiple times. Whether we mean it or not, we are quick to mouth its refrain.

(I’m standing at a crossroads, and I don’t know what to do. Where to turn. What path to take. What wisdom to choose.)

I understand. I’ve said as much even this day. But there is a danger in our paying lip service to our crossroads. As God’s children, dearly loved and carefully protected, when we come to a crossroads in our journey, he asks more of us than simply an approach to the process. He means for us to fully engage with its truth.

To come to the center of the matter. Where beam meets beam. Where horizontal hammers into vertical. Where wood and nails collide. Where faith and flesh intersect to bleed the witness of a sacred juncture.

When we do that … when we stand smack dab in the middle of Christ’s crossroads … it is easy to discern the good and ancient path that will secure us safe passage to God’s rest. When we center our lives at the heart of his willing sacrifice, no matter the direction we turn—whether before or behind, to the left or to the right—we are bathed in the lavish cover of a Father’s love.

We are reminded of just how far he traveled on our behalf so that we, like the ancients of old, could find our way home.

The problem? Many of us never make it that far. We choose the perimeter of the cross because, quite frankly, the center bleeds too red. Too messy and too fully. We deem our standing at the cross with Jesus as enough; but God calls each one of us to something greater.

He asks for us to stand in the crossroads with him.

Then, and only then, will we be able to measure the worth of God’s intended rest and peace for our lives. It’s a peace I want for always. My heart’s desire is to walk the path of the ancients and to rest in God’s good as I go.

Thus, this night I write the conviction of my heart. I am prepared to live its depth so that conviction doesn’t re-visit my lip service with the poke and prod of a Father’s hurt.

Tonight I am willing to walk to Calvary because I feel deeply in need of doing so. In many ways, I seem to be standing at a crossroads. There are decisions to be made. Big ones. Ones that not only involve my future, but ones that also include the future of those whom I love the most.

Rather than stand at the perimeter of the cross, I’m going in. To its center in order to stand where Christ has stood and to receive the cleansing truth of my salvation. I believe that my vision will be clearer there. That wisdom will be more readily available, and that the path of the ancients will present itself so that I might walk in it and receive God’s good and needful rest.

Perhaps, like me, you’re sensing the need to walk your heart toward a deeper point of surrender. Your life is at a crossroads, and the only thing you’re certain of is your uncertainty about what lies ahead. Would you join me on the road as we walk the beams of our Savior’s bloody surrender until we come to the heart of the matter? Would you, this day, be willing to live your convictions all the way into the center of his sacrifice? If so, then may the prayer of my heart belong to you as well…

Father, your cross is serious business. Forgive me for thinking that I can stand at a distance and see clearly the path that you would have me to follow. Thank you for the conviction that leads me into the center of your surrender and that baths me in the truth of your love. Baptize my feeble understanding with your wisdom that bleeds pure and true and full of insight so that I can find my way through the chaos that is pressing in ever so tightly and so certain. Bring me to your crossroads in my many matters, and show me the path of the ancients. Keep me, then, to that secure path until I find my way to your heart and to your good and promised rest for my journey. You are my life’s end. Bring me safely to my perfected conclusion. Amen.

Copyright © January 2009 – Elaine Olsen. All rights reserved.

~elaine

PS: Friends, I ask for your prayers tonight, not just for me but for all who are standing at a crossroads and need the widsom of a standing “in” with Jesus at the helm. If you’re struggling and you need a friend, please feel free to email me your thoughts or leave a request in the comment section. To read an excellent post about conviction, please visit LauraLee for further thought and inspiration. Shalom.

Bethlehem’s Light

Bethlehem’s Light

“Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the LORD rises upon you. See, darkness covers the earth and thick darkness is over the peoples, but the LORD rises upon you and his glory appears over you. Nations will come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your dawn.” (Isaiah 60:1-3).

We’re here. We’ve arrived. At Bethlehem, and if you’re reading this, you’ve arrived intact and, undoubtedly, with some relief.

Me too.

And of all the greetings I could send your way in the earliest hours of this occasioned day … of all the clever and enchanting ways I could paint this moment with my words, none would suffice to adequately capture the truth of what this pilgrimage has meant and continues to mean to me.

None, except, perhaps this picture.

They say a picture is worth 1000 words. I say this one is worthy of a few more. Not because of its superior quality. It comes close to failure in that department. But rather because of the eternal truth it scripts.

Our Light has come … has entered into our darkness. Not to shatter us into a pile of irretrievable pieces, but to illuminate us with the single truth…

of Bethlehem’s pause.
of creation’s purpose.
of our reason for being given this season of influence in our lives.

Never will our God shine brighter, loom larger, or beam bigger then when he is given the permission to illuminate his heart and love through the likes of you and me. At least not on this side of eternity.

There is coming a day when our faith will be made sight, and our fleshly attempts at being his light will fall prey and bow down to the weight of his inapproachable light. But until then, we are given the inconceivable privilege of housing his grace and his eternal flicker of hope.

We are the keepers of God’s Light. The tenders of a sacred wick that is meant to flame with the heat of a Father’s holy passion. Our failure to understand the depth of such a holy privilege not only leaves us as we are, but also succeeds in leaving others as they are.

In the dark and without hope. Confused and groping for the way home.

When we fail to reason God’s unreasonable as our assigned portion and to allow his living pulse to become our living breath, we live less. We walk smaller and not as God intended. He intends for us to live within and beneath the shadow of his accompanying presence each day and in full and unsuspecting ways. He means for others to see him through us. Thus, our membership in his household called faith and in his kingdom called Christendom.

We live selfish when we shine God’s Light in isolation. We mock Bethlehem and its mangered pause when we neglect to walk the fulfillment of its illumination … when we turn a deaf ear and a blind eye to the Matthew 5:14’s and 26:18’s of God’s Holy writ.

Nations have been assigned to God’s Light via our vessels. There are those who will walk home to Jesus because our candles have been the faithful radiance to shine the way. When we bow in holy submission to such Light, we pay high and holy honor to our created purpose. When we walk proud and with little regard to such privilege, we damper God’s illumination.

Does he really need us in order to shine big?

Not really, but his grace allows us the consecrated participation. And when it happens, when our exposure allows Christ his, we experience a fullness that exceeds the solitary whispers of a single flame. We land our lives squarely in the middle of a roaring, Holy Spirit, Jesus-breathing, burning bush kind of revelation. Not the kind that burns to ashes, but rather the type that burns to pure.

To perfection and to a knowing that rests easy with the flaming wick and that concedes the heart to the tending therein.

I don’t know about you, but I want to be the luminary that shines forth our Father’s light. I want to be pure, and I want the joy of seeing others see him because of my privileged participation in the matter. The one God who shines brighter, looms larger, and beams bigger because I’ve allowed him a home in my heart.

Today I will watch young and old come to the manger to receive the gift of Christmas. Together, we will unwrap another year’s worth of spending and doing in short order. But when evening comes, when the bows and paper and plates have been cleared away and my head finds its rest, I pray that my loved ones will have unwrapped more than my meager attempts at love. I pray that they will have seen God in our midst, casting his high and holy shadow through the single flame of my willing heart.

If I can show them Jesus this Christmas, then holy intention has walked its course, and my life has served good purpose.

I pray the same for you, my friends. Holy intention and good purpose lived through you with every package opened, with every smile given, with every difficult relative loved, and with every kindness offered. May God’s Light within you be the flame that lights up your home this Christmas with the warmth and the truth of Bethlehem’s sacred pause.

Arise and shine, for your Light has come.

Merry Christmas, precious friends. From my home to yours. It is my joy and privilege to break bread with you in this season of my life.


As always,

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