faith | Elaine Olsen

a view from the Jordan…

April 19, 2010

“… ‘When you see the ark of the covenant of the LORD your God, and the priests, who are Levites, carrying it, you are to move out from your positions and follow it. Then you will know which way to go, since you have never been this way before….’” (Joshua 3:3-4)

Never having “been this way before,” at least not exactly, it occurs to me this morning that I just might be standing in the middle of the Jordan River… awaiting the promise of Canaan, yet so completely overwhelmed and awestruck by the demonstration of God’s power in the moment that the view from the “middle” writes as promise just as much as the view from the other side does. The view from where I’m standing this morning feels right and good and in keeping with God’s plan for my life—our lives. You see, a walk to Canaan is never isolated from the presence of others. There will always be those who go ahead of us in order to point us in the right direction, those who look for our leading from behind, and those who take our hands mid-stream feeling every inch of understanding as we go and along the way.

Promise-land living is corporate living, where all pilgrims willingly take ownership of the responsibility of the priesthood—to carry the presence of the living Lord along for the journey and to interject his witness via the feet of faith. Faith feet aren’t afraid of getting wet and are strengthened in their resolve to stand firm so that others might walk through on dry ground. In many ways, those feet belong to me. In other ways, those feet belong to my husband. Together, we’ve made some deliberate choices in recent days to take those first steps of faith into the Jordan. But long before we ever imagined this “route” to Canaan, there were and still are a few people whose feet walked this route first. They have gone ahead of us and have been waiting for us to follow their lead and to join them on the march to Promise.

My dear blog readers, hear me and hear me well. As people of faith, each of us is currently standing in one of three places on the road to Promise:

Viewing Canaan from the opposite side of the Jordan;
Viewing Canaan while standing in the Jordan; or,
Viewing Canaan beneath our feet.

Not one of these vantage points holds precedence over the others. None. All are worthy points along the way in our faith journeys because all of them have Canaan within sight. Our walkabouts in faith are cyclical trails of trust. No one currently living in the flesh holds the treasure of his/her eternal Canaan in its fullness right now. That crossing over occurs when the last vestiges of the flesh surrender their pulse to the grave. Therefore, while moving toward God’s kingdom to come, there is room enough for us to move within-and-around this process of faith’s progression. In the past week, I’ve seen Canaan from all vantage points, and my faith isn’t “less” because of it. My faith is stronger because of it.

We are doing a great disservice to a great many Christians when we try to put parameters around what “Canaan” should look like for other believers. I’m a firm advocate of abundant living, but I can never live abundantly until I have first known poverty of soul. One of the greatest tragedies of a walkabout in faith is for complacency to root in our hearts while living in Canaan. God doesn’t intend for us to set up our tents on the banks of the Jordan as a permanent place of residency. Certainly, he intends for us to rest there, gain perspective there, but eventually, he’ll require us to move deeper into the heart of the Promised Land. And for that to happen, friends, we must be wiling to keep the tent pegs pliable regardless of how firmly they’ve become tethered to the soil beneath our feet.

I don’t know where you and your faith are standing this week; it’s likely that, before it comes to conclusion, you’ll experience Canaan from all vantage points. Regardless of where your feet are planted this morning, let me be a voice of encouragement to you that as long as Canaan is your goal, then your faith is well-placed and will keep you moving despite your willingness to stay where you are. God will tend to the issue of your faith’s progression; he won’t make you move, but he’ll be certain to allow you the opportunity to keep in step with his best plan for your life.

How I pray for God’s strength, wisdom, and endurance to be your portion and mine as we continue to live out the calling of the priesthood that he’s placed on each one of us! We are the living witnesses of faith whose names are being written into a history that will, one day, read like the stories of our spiritual ancestors from long ago. They didn’t know then what the fullness of their faith would mean to us now, but they lived it anyway. Not for us, but for the promise of the One who authored their lives.

Always for the promise of the One. He is why I’m here this morning, taking time out of a very busy day to remind you of your kingdom conferment and of the joy that comes to God’s children as we are faithful to keep our focus forward and our feet all the more.

Love you each one. Go in the strength you’ve been given, and until next time…

peace for the journey,

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a morning "word" from the shores of Galilee…

April 14, 2010

This morning my heart is heavy. I didn’t sleep much. Heaviness of heart seems to serve as fertile ground for sleeplessness. Such was the case for me last evening. Instead of awakening to the freshness of a new day, today I awoke to my tears and my husband’s arms around me assuring me of his love that will endure despite the chaos going on around us.

I also awoke to something else this morning.

The picture above. This morning’s sunrise over the Sea of Galilee. My friend, Stephanie, sent this picture via her phone to a few of us who have been praying for her during her missionary travels in Israel. Her words that accompanied this picture (as if any would be needed to add to its beauty)…

“I’m having fish for lunch today along the shores of Galilee after we take a boat ride there! I’ll be sure to get out of the boat when I see Jesus walking on the water! Tell Elaine this one’s for her! Shalom…Stephanie”

Shalom, indeed. A little piece of “peace” for the journey when peace is needed the most. And so, with Stephanie’s prompt ringing in my ears and the words of my “breakfast on the beach” series freshly racing through my mind, I once again turned to John 21 this morning and re-read the familiar story I’ve spent a great deal of time studying in recent days. This time, my focus fixed on verses 18 & 19:

“I tell you the truth, when you were younger you dressed yourself and went where you wanted; but when you are old you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress you and lead you where you do not want to go.” Jesus said this to indicate the kind of death by which Peter would glorify God. Then he said to him, “Follow me.” (John 21:18-19)

When was the last time you heard a similar “truth” from Jesus? When did he last remind you that on your odyssey of faith there will be times when you will be called upon to travel to places of his expectation rather than yours? When did you last feel the weightiness of your kingdom conferment as it pertains to your place of service? When did what “God wanted you to do” serve as the catalyst to your wrestling out a few things before him on the floor mat of heaven?

I imagine we all have a moment of vivid recall along these lines. We don’t travel very far with God before coming to a crossroads where the path of our choosing contradicts with the one he’s chosen instead. When we arrive there, we have a choice to make…

Follow him; follow not.

I’m there, friends. Today is my “follow him” moment. God has opened up the kingdom closet this morning and is asking me to dress myself with a plan that I wasn’t prepared to wear. He’s stripped me of my previous expectations and has presented me with his instead. To be honest with you, it’s not a comfortable fit for me… not yet. You see, I’m not a big fan of trying on a new set of clothes. I much prefer the ones that are currently hanging in my closet and lining my dresser drawers. At least with them, I know what to expect. With this new set, I’m not sure I like what I see. Rather than experiencing the warmth and familiarity of my “comfortable,” God is asking me to trade it all in for a new set of clothes that initially feels foreign and stiff.

My mind tells me that with time, the “new” will soon wear like the “old,” but my heart momentarily tells me something else… that I can’t do this. That this is too much. That this is going to be an uphill battle from the get go and that no matter which way I (or anyone else) tries to “spin” this, it’s still going to be a difficult fit for me. What I imagined and expected would be my next best steps are now being detoured along a path that had, previously, never been on my radar.

Still and yet, the path is clear, and like Peter, my heart is concerned, heavy-laden, and full of a few questions… not just for the clothes that I’m being asked to wear, but also for the clothes that my brother and sister are being given to wear as well.

“Lord, what about them?” Are you asking them for a similar obedience? Why is it that their dressing doesn’t look like mine? Comparatively speaking, it doesn’t seem fair, Lord. Why am I being asked to navigate these strange waters when it seems they’ve been given smooth sailing? Why does “following after you” live differently for those of us who are called according to only one, high and holy purpose? Why does it seem that my expectations rarely measure out in accordance with yours? Am I not listening closely enough? Living faithfully enough? Praying fervently enough? I thought I knew how this was going to go, Lord; it’s apparent that I don’t… know as much as I thought that I did. Forgive me for asking, Father, but what about them?

And for all of the questions that I could ask of God this day, for all of the chaos that’s been interjected into my life in the past twenty-four hours, Christ’s response to me this morning is the same as the one he gave to Peter on the shores of Galilee nearly 2000 years ago:

“What is that to you, Elaine? You must follow me.”

Follow me. Don’t concern yourself with your brother’s portion. Concern yourself with me and all will “feel” right in due season. All is right in this season, but all will “feel” right very soon. The “new” will fit like the “old” and the path that wasn’t previously on your radar will write as perfect history—your history, Elaine. Our history—yours and mine. Follow hard after me, child, and see if I cannot be trusted with the outcome. I have called you. I am faithful. I will do it. Now, follow me.

Breakfast on the beach with Jesus, again. Thank you, Stephanie, for taking me there. Thank you, Jesus, for meeting me there. I hear the waters lapping against the shore; I smell the fire burning in the distance; I see Christ’s arms beckoning me forward to receive the food that he’s prepared for my consumption. It’s not been an easy swallow… this eating from the Lord’s fire this morning, but it’s been good for me and will be my strengthened understanding for the path that lies ahead. How grateful I am for a faith that sustains me through the night and that brings me into the glorious light of a new day! As always…

peace for the journey,

~elaine

letting go at "44"…

April 12, 2010

“And we also thank God continually because, when you received the word of God, which you heard from us, you accepted it not as the word of men, but as it actually is, the word of God, which is at work in you who believe.” (1 Thessalonians 2:13)

My boy turned twenty-one this past weekend. I turned forty-four. Together we celebrated our milestones at my parents’ house on Saturday. Mom made sure we each had our own cake (only a mother would do this), and dad made sure we had steak (only a dad would go to some out-of-the-way butcher and pay $85 for the filets we enjoyed).

The food was tasty, and the fellowship was rich. I come from good roots, friends, and I am mindful and grateful for the privilege of what it means to have grown up in a household that promotes generosity and faith, all in the same setting… not just on birthdays but, consistently, on every occasion over the past forty-four years. What a joy it is for me to be surrounded by those who know me the best and love me still—those who birthed me, those whom I’ve birthed, and those who’ve married into the crazy lot of us. It was a good memory and one that has me thinking, yet again, about the one, consistent theme that has followed me all the days of my life.

Letting go.

A hard portion of Christian obedience, yet perhaps, the greatest “tool” our Father uses to shape us more perfectly into his consecrated people. “Letting go” comes in all shapes and sizes. Letting go of…

Children.
Parents.
Friendships.
Careers.
Dreams.
Money.
Time.
Childhood.
Carefully planned agendas.
Distractions.
Addictions.
Selfishness.
Consistency.
Routine.
Ministries.
Concerns.
Expectations.
Regrets.
Anger.
Unforgiveness.
Life.
_______________.

Regardless of the object behind the fierce and determined “holdings” of our hearts, it’s only in the letting go of those objects that we begin to fully participate in the life of faith to which God has called each one of us. By nature, we clothe ourselves with the outward manifestations of an inward pulse. What beats on the interior, wears openly and outloud on our exteriors. And while not all outward attachments are inherently detrimental to our faith’s progression, a tight-fisted grip on them can be. When what we’re holding becomes more important to us than the One we’re holding, then a readjustment of perspective is often needed.

God is faithful to bring that readjustment; we, however, are not always faithful to submit our hearts for his evaluation. Rather than releasing our grip on worldly attachments, we cling tightly to them in hopes of managing and manipulating them for a season longer. Sometimes we are successful in doing so, but rarely does it last and most always is it to our disadvantage. When we refuse relinquishment of our “stuff” (whether people or things), our clutching often becomes the stumbling block that prevents us from moving forward with Jesus and his plan for our futures.

Paul understood this. His heart was primarily tethered to his calling in Jesus Christ, but secondarily to those who stood on the receiving end of God’s truth. The church at Thessalonica represented one such group. His time with them was brief, thus prompting his later concern regarding their “continuing in the faith” and not succumbing to the persecution and false teachings that were circulating in their midst. He felt, perhaps, that they could have benefited from further discipleship under his tutelage. I understand. How many times have I longed for further mentoring from a beloved teacher or have thought that, perhaps, those sitting under my mentoring might benefit from our spending more time together? It’s a valid concern, but even more valid and potent is the truth that came to the Thessalonians while in the presence of Paul.

That truth cannot be contained within dates on a calendar or parametered within the context of a mentoring relationship. God’s truth is timeless and is too big for confinement. Once it is released, it exponentially manifests its worth into the lives of all who come in contact with its witness. His truth is stronger than our concerns regarding its diminishment and tightly anchors itself within the soil of a receiving heart. Paul planted those seeds in Thessalonica; God was faithful to water and to grow them—a truth later verified by Timothy after his visit to the church there:

“But Timothy has just now come to us from you and has brought good news about your faith and love. He has told us that you always have pleasant memories of us and that you long to see us, just as we also long to see you. Therefore, brothers, in all our distress and persecution we were encouraged about you because of your faith. For now we really live, since you are standing firm in the Lord.” (1 Thessalonians 3:6-8).

Paul experienced “real living” because the faith of the Thessalonians was standing firm, was active and breathing and increasing daily despite his absence. Paul worried about his “letting go” on the front end of his ministry. The churches he had planted were his joy and crown, his children and his delight. It was hard to release them to “go it alone” without his watchful guidance and care, but hearing about their growing in the faith buoyed his flesh for the price that would be paid for their knowledge—his personal persecution. For Paul, it was a fair exchange—their faith for his flesh. It was a calling he willingly chose, lovingly fulfilled, and dutifully wrote about so that we could have a better picture of what it means to “let go and let God.”

I don’t know what you need to “let go” of in this season of living. I know that God is calling me to “let go” of a few things I’ve been clinging to—stuff that is keeping me too closely connected to this earth. I know that I cannot walk completely free from my worldly attachments. God has given me many of them for my benefit. But I can walk free from their hold on me, from their being too important to me. None of them (not one person or one thing) is more important to me than the hold that I currently have on the hem of Christ’s garment. When anything or anyone starts to pull me away from those threads, then I pray for a holy readjustment of my heart. Why?

Because those threads are the ones that will pull me home. I’d rather get there with “nothing” then to arrive there with everything only to be turned away from my kingdom inheritance because my earthly vision was short-sighted and temporarily focused. Yes, I turned forty-four this past weekend. My son is twenty-one, and my parents? Well, they are on the backside of the journey home. The passage of time is evident to all of us. We cannot stop the hands on the clock, and while I love every minute of my life with them here, I’m keenly aware that our “here” is just a foretaste of what awaits for us “there.” “There” is where I want my thoughts and heart to anchor because there is where I will spend forever.

Thus, a letting go. Indeed, a hard portion of the Christian obedience, but in the end, the very best obedience any one of us can yield to the process of our completed consecration. May we all take the time this week to examine the holding of our hands and hearts and then, further, to be willing to lay something/someone down in order to take hold of more of the truth that is ours in Jesus Christ.

Hold loosely the things of this earth, friends; hold tightly to things of heaven; stay focused until the end. And as you go and along the way, may Jesus Christ always and forever be your…

Peace for the journey,

PS: Leah @ the Point is hosting her pay-it-forward giveaway. Please take time to visit her and enter your name for an opportunity to win some fabulous prizes!

Produced by Faith, Prompted by Love, Inspired by Hope

April 8, 2010

“We always thank God for all of you, mentioning you in our prayers. We continually remember before our God and Father your work produced by faith, your labor prompted by love, and your endurance inspired by hope in our Lord Jesus Christ.” (1 Thessalonians 1:2-3).

Work. Labor. Endurance.

Produced. Prompted. Inspired.

Faith. Love. Hope.

Work produced by faith.

Labor prompted by love.

Endurance inspired by hope.

A day’s doing motivated by a heart’s holding. When was the last time the same was said of you… that the sum total of your long day’s labor was wholly {holy} fueled by the faith, love, and hope you have in and for our Lord Jesus Christ? When was the last time that these “three” enduring virtues {see 1 Cor. 13:13} produced, prompted, and inspired you to live and to do your life with an “as unto the Lord” kind of approach?

It’s something I need to keep in mind as I prepare my heart for another’s day labor within these four walls that I’ve called home for the past six years. There is a work going on in my heart that exceeds boxes and packing tape—a greater work that is prompting and inspiring me to keep at the task at hand. In some small measure {albeit much smaller than what was going on in the church at Thessalonica in Paul’s day} the work of my hands this day is part of God’s kingdom business. It doesn’t seem that way… most moments proffer as monotonous, customary, routine and necessary, and in truth, they are. But they are also so much more—a more that is attached to a hot July afternoon nearly thirteen years ago.

On that day, I signed on for the role as helpmate to my preacher husband, Billy. It’s a role I freely chose and understood on the front end of our “I do’s”–the moment when he took my hand and the hands of my two sons into his and promised his forever love and watchful care over our lives in exchange for mine…my forever love and watchful care over his life. Together, we all said “yes” to the itinerant, ministry life of a Methodist preacher, knowing and believing that the One who called us would be faithful to “complete” his work in us… wherever he leads and whatever is required of us because of that leading.

You see, as I’m pitching and sorting, throwing out and packing in, it’s all just part of being faithful to my “right now” and God’s “what’s ahead.” Without my work, labor, and endurance on the front end of this move, God’s “what’s ahead” is going to arrive in my life, and I will be unprepared for its advent. If I don’t allow my faith, love, and hope in Jesus Christ to be the underpinning of today’s activity, then God’s “what’s ahead” might be met with my dread and bitterness rather than with my sacred expectation.

I want to be found faithful with my day, friends. I want my trust in God to be the solid foundation from which I draw my strength for the tasks at hand. I want the accomplishing work of this day to, in some small way, add to the kingdom work that has been assigned to my family as we seek to honor the calling that he has been placed on us to be a people of movement.

Really, it’s a calling that has been placed on all of us as disciples of Jesus Christ. Faith moves forward with the cloudy pillar of God’s leading. Faith never stays mired in the current soil for very long. Faith stays long enough in a certain assignment to accomplish God’s kingdom agenda, but then faith has the wisdom and the courage to move on. This is my moving on moment; perhaps you’re experiencing one as well… if not a physical move then, perhaps, a movement of your heart in a new direction.

Would you allow your faith in God to produce the work of your hands this day? Your love for God to prompt your labor? Your hope in God to inspire your endurance?

God is after far much more in you and through you than what your mind can currently conceive or imagine. I don’t hold all of the answers for your life; I really don’t hold many of the answers regarding mine. But I do firmly believe in them—the answers—and I hold fast to the One who authors them all. And as far as it concerns me and my household this day, we’re putting all of our faith, love, and hope in Jesus Christ for those answers and will be faithful to do our part to make sure that God’s kingdom isn’t hindered by our unwillingness to move forward with his plan.

Let us not be a hindrance to the advancement of the kingdom, friends. Instead, let us take to our days with the understanding that even the smallest measure of willing obedience on our part will yield an eternal result that fits perfectly into the bigger plan that belongs to God. Packing tape and boxes may not look a whole lot like “faith”, but my heart tells me otherwise.

It’s also telling me, I’d better get busy, so until next time…

peace for the journey,
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walkabout…

March 21, 2010

Loose ends.

We all live with some. I don’t imagine there is a day that goes by when a loose thread or two don’t dangle their insistence before our eyes and within our hearts, thereby challenging us to trust in something bigger, Someone bigger, to weave them into the fabric that we call our lives.

I’ve had a thread or two or five or ten over the past few months. Some of them still dangle before me. Some of them, thankfully, have been picked up by the capable hands of Jesus and have begun to add their color to my canvas. I can’t see the fullness of their beauty, not yet. But as a woman of faith—a woman who is learning the road of the “ancients” of Hebrews 11—I’m believing God for their worthiness. It’s all I can do when I cannot see the road in front of me. I can only see the One who leads me, and that is enough for me, friends, for He is my “next.”

It’s been a little over two weeks since I put the final punctuation on the manuscript I began back in August of last year. The idea had been stirring in me for some time, but after walking through a week-long, intentional time of searching my Father’s heart (thanks, Lisa!), God confronted my heart regarding my faith and the lack of it therein. It was during that time, that the topic of my next written work came into clear focus; I’ve spent the past seven months writing that focus and have now completed my thoughts. The tentative title?

On Walkabout with the King: stepping the path of an ancient faith. (You may remember me talking about it here.)

Fifty thousand words and forty reflections later, I am well-pleased with the resulting conclusion. Not the words necessarily, but the work that has been accomplished because of those words in me and that will continue to work through and out of me in the days to come. We cannot delve into the lives of our spiritual ancestors and remain the same. Not really. Certainly we can give them a casual glance, take note of their faith and their “settled confidence” in God, but if we dig deeper for further clarification regarding their faith and how their faith pertains to ours, then we will be changed. It is God’s promise to us.

“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).

I have found some rest for my soul. I’ve stood at the crossroads and asked for the ancient paths. I’ve seen their faith in living color and applied it to my daily walk. Why? Because I desire nothing more than to be a woman of faith… a woman who steps in the paths of her spiritual ancestors. A woman who isn’t just “all talk” and no “walk.” A woman who isn’t afraid to make the same journey that they made. A woman who is willing to pick up her tent, even as Abraham picked up his tent, pack up her family, in order to keep in step with her King’s directives.

Today marks the beginning of that odyssey, friends. Today, my husband and I stood before our congregation to make the announcement that the Bishop of the United Methodist Church has issued the call for us to move this June. It wasn’t an easy announcement. We’ve invested the past six years of our lives into this church and surrounding community. The work of our hands dwarfs in comparison to the investment that we’ve made with our hearts.

We love our people, and we’ve loved them fully.

It’s not always been perfect. Loving in the flesh always leaves the door open for mistakes on both ends. That being said, we’ve always loved willingly, kindly, and with enough open honesty to admit our frailties in the matter. When love loves that way, then love blooms, and today, my arms aren’t big enough to hold the bouquet that I’ve been given. Today, my bouquet overflows with the witness of the colorful blossoms that have been lavished upon me over the past six years. How thankful I am for the garden that God seeded on my behalf long before my moving van ever crossed the Wayne County line six years ago. How thankful I am for the seeds that he’s planting now somewhere else.

I don’t know where that somewhere else will be friends, nary a clue. We won’t know until the end of April. But God knows, and to a lesser degree the Bishop knows, and that is enough for me. Did you hear me? Just in case you missed it…

God’s knowing is enough for me.

Seven months ago, it might not have been enough, but today, his enough proffers as certainty rather than maybe. If I’ve learned one thing from the “ancients” who are listed in the Hebrews’ Hall of Faith, I’ve learned that our God can be trusted with our futures. Why? Because he is our future, he is our “next,” and I intend on keeping one hand on the hem of his garment and one hand around the waist of my family until his hem crosses me over that finish line, and I find a final and perfect rest for my soul.

It’s all I can do—keep holding on and keep believing in the One whose cloudy pillar is on the move. God has asked a great thing of me; it’s not easy to pack up six lives and move them in accordance with God’s directives. But God’s great asking is in keeping with my faith’s cultivation; he’s not asking anything of me that he didn’t ask of his people long ago. And so, like those from my spiritual lineage, I cast my eyes to the horizon this night and remember that I am but a stranger on loan to this alien country. That there is a better country coming, and that this one isn’t it. This one only serves as the bridge between what has been and what will be. And the steps taken in between the two?

The walkabout of faith.

{lisa leonard designs}

I’m on it; so is my family. So are you, and so is our King. He can be trusted with the road ahead, so let us all take hold of his hem and press on, believing that the “what and the where” that is to come is exactly the journey he has intended for us all along.

Sweet trust. Sweet rest. Continuing…

peace for the journey.

~elaine

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