living God’s truth | Elaine Olsen

the preceding effects of Presence

September 24, 2009

for the one whose pain caught my attention…

I recently received an e-mail from a stranger. She needed a safe place for her thoughts; I was privileged to receive them. If ever anyone needed a “passing by” from the Lord, it was her. I imagine it still is her, for there are no easy answers to the heartfelt pleas… just a lot of pain and partial peace wrapped up together in a life that belongs to her.

I pondered her situation throughout the night hours and awoke the next morning to a familiar Scripture text found in 1 Kings 19. A long ago story about a man who deeply desired a “passing by” from his God. His “weary and well-worn” led him to the comfort of a mountain cave—a place known for its proximity to the presence of God.

“Then the LORD said, ‘Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the LORD, for the LORD is about to pass by.’ Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave. Then a voice said to him, ‘What are you doing here, Elijah?’” (1 Kings 19:11-13).

God would not disappoint Elijah. Instead, God would come to him in full measure… in a way that is often missed by most of us. Whenever we read this story, we tend to focus on the whisper of God—the gentle, tender voice of comfort that is most needed in times of great despair. But in doing so, in relegating God’s whisper above the preceding manifestations of his presence, I think we miss a valuable teaching about the existence of Almighty God.

God’s living presence radiates from the core of his being, mirroring (in much smaller measure) the ripple effects we witness after a pebble is thrown into water. Where God is, isn’t defined by his frame. I have no idea what God looks like, but in my wildest imaginings, I’m tempted to give him a body—a contained perimeter in keeping with something that makes sense to me. But God is bigger than my imagination and far surpasses any box I am content to wrap around him. When God walks, the ripples of that walking extend far and wide announcing (well in advance) his arrival to the world.

And here’s what I think.

Could it be that the winds and earthquakes and fires that precede his arrival are just God’s way of letting us know he’s coming? That he is, in fact, on his way to us? That the wind cannot help but sway with the reality that his feet are on the move? That the rocks cannot help but split and crack because they better feel the weight of his gravitational pull? That fires cannot help but fan into flames because of the intensity fueling his intention? Why are we surprised when we experience the wind, the movement of the earth beneath our feet, and the heat of a fire around our souls prior to his arrival?

Earth, better than humanity, recognizes the approach of its King.

“Clouds and thick darkness surround him; righteousness and justice are the foundation of his throne. Fire goes before him and consumes his foes on every side. His lightning lights up the world; the earth sees and trembles. The mountains melt like wax before the LORD, before the Lord of all the earth.” (Psalm 97:2-5).

God’s presence extends beyond his whispers. We do not often see him in these preceding moments of our sometimes excruciating circumstances. Many of you, this day, are in the midst of some earth-shattering situations. Pain and conflict are your portion, and you are tempted to keep your eyes fixed in the present rather than looking beyond to the Presence whose comforting whispers are soon to follow.

If we could get that, if somehow we could begin to see the wind, the earthquake, and the fires of our today as the beginning manifestations of God’s rippling presence, then, perhaps, we’d anchor ourselves tighter to the truth of a soon and coming sacred whisper. Our faith would grow with the expectation that what is currently seen and felt will soon be tempered and relieved by the unseen breath of God speaking his comfort into our chaos.

God is on the move, friends. He is in the business of “passing by” your way. He comes with intention and purpose and with the rippling effects that have always preceded his arrival. This doesn’t mean his coming has caused your earthquake, it simply and profoundly means that his presence cannot be separated from the world’s notice.

And the last time I checked, the prince of this world (the one whose sole intent for our lives is to steal, to kill, and to destroy) was very disturbed by the coming of the King. When God moves, so does he. Satan is the author of chaos and confusion, and he will go to great lengths to make sure you miss the arrival of your Father.

I do not fully understand the condition of human suffering, what’s allowed us by God and what we miss because of his grace. I don’t know the length of the leash that’s been extended to the enemy. It’s a hard wrestling for me, and at the end of the day, I concede those answers to my King. But just this night as I think about my new friend and her pain and the pain of so many who are desperately running to God’s mountain in hopes of receiving God’s whispers, I cannot help but imagine the rippling effect of God’s presence.

The winds … the earthquakes … the fires that precede his whispers. And somehow I am comforted, and all seems reasonable and acceptable to me.

Hang on for God’s whispers, friends. They are coming, just beyond these rippling effects of God’s approaching steps. The earth better understands the arrival of its King. It cannot help but be shattered by the thought and, therefore, bow in surrender to his steps. Neither can I.

May God’s good comfort and abiding presence be with you all this day as you seek him on his mountain. You are my friends, and you fuel my passion for knowing our Father at the deepest level. Thank you for sharing the road with me. As always…

peace for the journey,

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a worthy entrance

September 21, 2009

“Go to the village ahead of you, and just as you enter it, you will find a colt tied there, which no one has ever ridden. Untie it and bring it here. If anyone asks you, ‘Why are you doing this?’ tell him, ‘The Lord needs it and will send it back here shortly.’” (Mark 11:2-3).

It occurs to me this night that as we stand on the edge of a new week with Jesus, we do so with the same words of instruction spoken over us that were spoken over the disciples nearly 2000 years ago.

To go ahead into the village and to find a colt for Jesus. Not for his possession, but rather for his procession. For his entrance into a world that needs to know its Savior cometh. That the long ago and faraway mention of a Palm Sunday parade is just as real and vital today as it was back then. Jesus is still in the habit of mingling with his children. The stage may have changed, but the stakes haven’t.

Eternity still hangs in the balance. There is yet a need for his exposure, for his truth to make entrance in the hearts of a generation whose hearts are hungering for the redemption of a cross and the resurrection from a tomb. Palms and waving branches are not meant for the isolation of a calendared Easter. They are the worthy proclamation of our faith. We may not carry them in the streets of Jerusalem, but we are called to carry them into the streets of our tomorrows.

Our workplaces;
Our homes;
Our schools;
Our hospitals;
Our meals;
Our phone calls;
Our e-mails;
Our churches;
Our meetings;
Our interactions;
Our interruptions.

Wherever our feet land becomes the worthy soil of our long-standing tradition. An ancient understanding that supersedes pageantry to become the stage where the King makes his entrance and where his disciples stand aside to allow him his moment in the light.

Go, my friends, make the necessary preparations in your heart to present our Lord and Savior to the world this day. We are the living conduits of his grace and mercy—the vessels he uses to make his entrance into the hearts and lives of those who fill our daily routine. It doesn’t make good sense to choose us, for I imagine that most of us have failed along these lines throughout our journey with Jesus.

But the gift of a new day is knowing that we’ve been given a few more moments to live our faith better, to wave our palms higher, and to present Christ bigger. When the world asks us (for there are almost always a few questions surrounding an unexpected parade) why we are doing this, may the answer of our hearts, speak the courage of our belief…

The Lord needs it, and we need to do it for him.

For him.

Let the branches of our celebration wave in honor of our King. Carry him well, share him liberally, and celebrate the entrance of his love into your life with all the fullness your heart can hold. May the hosanna of your witness and the hosanna of mine blend in chorus to be the sweet music of heaven announcing Christ’s arrival to his created people. I’ll meet you on the streets of Jerusalem this week. As always…

peace for the journey,

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"see to it"…

September 16, 2009

“Tell Archippus, ‘See to it that you complete the work you have received in the Lord.’” (Colossians 4:17).

Last evening, I rushed home from our Bible study launch of Priscilla Shirer’s “one in a million” to participate in an on-line conference hosted by A Women Inspired. I missed most of the first session, but was excited to learn that my girl, Kristen from Exemplify, was hosting the second session. Like most of us in blogland, Kristen and I have yet to make a face-to-face connection. Thus, I was all the more eager to at least “hear” her voice; it didn’t matter much to me what she would be talking about. She could have talked fashion for all I cared; I would have listened (despite my careless attitude along those lines). It wasn’t the content I was after. It was the relationship. But my sister had a word to further validate the person she is … the person I’ve grown to love and admire throughout my time in the blogging world.

A simple, tender admonition to “see to it”. See to the work you have received in the Lord. She repeated the phrase throughout her presentation, and at one point, inserted my name into the mix (she knew I was there because participants are on-line “chatting” while the presenter is speaking).

“See to it, Elaine, see to it that you complete the work you have received in the Lord.”

I’ve thought a lot about that “charge” in the past fourteen hours, and I’ve asked the Lord a few questions along these lines. What is the work I have received from you Lord? What are you calling me to complete? What are the unfinished “chapters” that need words and punctuation and thematic flow? What is the work that is mine to conclude, and what is the work better left to someone else’s conclusion? Show me, Father, my place in your kingdom plan.

I went to sleep pondering my thoughts; I awoke with the same and then “happened” upon Mark 8:22-25 in my time of morning devotion.

“They came to Bethsaida, and some people brought a blind man and begged Jesus to touch him. He took the blind man by the hand and led him outside the village. When he had spit on the man’s eyes and put his hands on him, Jesus asked, ‘Do you see anything?’ He looked up and said, ‘I see people; they look like trees walking around.’ Once more Jesus put his hands on the man’s eyes. Then his eyes were opened, his sight was restored, and he saw everything clearly.”

Today, like the blind man, I linger on the outskirts of Bethsaida with my questions regarding my “see to it”. My eyes vision partial; my heart all the more. Where I desire clarity, there are trees walking around. I am not alone in my contemplations; my Savior is here with me. In fact, he led me here by his hand and is administering his own form of clarity in the matter. He reminds me that clear vision takes faith, takes trust, and takes the necessary steps toward having trees turn into people. Dreams turn into realities. Hopes turn into the “surety and certainty” that roots me back to the Author and Perfecter of all “see to it’s”.

Seeing clearly begins with a willingness to walk with the Father to the outskirts of the village where we normally reside. Normal, usual, and daily routine don’t typically birth clarity regarding our “see to it’s”. Taking time to be Jesus in quiet isolation, away from life’s distractions, brings perspective. It is in those moments when we best pay attention to the hands of Christ’s administration over our needs. His “see to it’s” for each one of us are best seen when we can clearly hear the whisper of our names on his lips, offering us his tender admonition:

Elaine, do you see anything? What is coming into focus for you? See to it, child, see to the work you have received in my name.

How about you, friend?

____(your name)___, do you see anything? What is coming into focus for you? See to it, child, see to the work you have received in my name.

Today I have ample time for the contemplation because I am well aware of the human condition—the limits our bodies allow us to travel before putting a “halt” to our intentions, our lists, our “seeing to it’s”. It’s been looming for a few days now (read my last post). I’m fighting its arrival with plenty of prayer and over-the-counter wisdom, but even then, a “halt” has become my necessity.

Rather than seeing this day as a day lost regarding my many “lists”, I’m investing this time with my Father on the outskirts of my normal and asking him for his hands to sharpen my vision along the lines of my “see to it’s”. I believe him for as much, and I am exceedingly grateful for these moments I’ve been given to step aside with him in isolation.

I pray the same for you in the days to come. God has given each one of us some “see to it’s”. There are seasons when it’s hard to clearly determine his intentions along these lines, but as we take time to be alone with Jesus, he takes the time and is more than willing to sharpen our focus and to strengthen our steps for the duration and completion of the ordained works he has placed in our hands.

So in the words of the Apostle Paul, and in the words of my good friend Kristen, see to it today. See to Jesus. Be with Jesus. Walking trees are just the beginning of a sharper beholding. As you are faithful to hang on for more, God is faithful to reveal to you his more. As always,

peace for the journey,

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Making Sense of Mustard Seeds

September 14, 2009

“Again he said, ‘What shall we say the kingdom of God is like, or what parable shall we use to describe it? It is like a mustard seed, which is the smallest seed you plant in the ground. Yet when planted, it grows and becomes the largest of all garden plants, with such big branches that the birds of the air can perch in its shade.’” (Mark 4:30-32).

I’m not sure how it all fits together; all the stuff of my Sunday.

Sick children;
Laundry rotation;
Clorox wipes;
Temperature taking;
Non-stop Sponge Bob.
A Wal-Mart run for meds.
Throw-up clean up;
Make-up homework;
Bible-study prep work…

Some prayers;
A Scripture;
A Kingdom;
A mustard seed;
Some birds.

A blog post.

But something tells me they fit; Someone compels me to make them fit … at least to ponder their collective wisdom and then to scrawl a few thoughts in between runs for cool washcloths and requests for more attention. And here’s what I’m thinking tonight…

They are God’s kingdom, these two young ones I’ve been given in my later years. I never imagined them on the front side of my motherhood. Their two older brothers were enough to fill my maternal longings. Then again, I never imagined starting over in a new marriage. But I did start over. And by God’s grace and only through a loving provision I cannot begin to merit or adequately explain, I was granted the privilege of having two additional children.

I’ve not always done it right; in fact, many times I’ve gotten it wrong. All of us have some battle scars to prove it. But even in the mistakes, I’ve always been mindful of the sacred responsibility to do it. To parent in the light and shadows of a greater cause … a kingdom cause. If I don’t, someone else will, and what God wants growing in my garden is a planting filled with the mustard seeds of a heavenly kingdom, not the weeds of a worldly domain.

The world grows weeds … useless, unimaginative, ugly to the eye, and difficult to erase.

All I have to do is look out my bedroom window to a neighboring lot and see the effects of a worldly neglect. But when I look inward to reflect on what’s growing inside these four walls, to the young ones who are within reach and are well-tended to this day, I see the effects of a Godly intention. A sowing that exceeds any amount of energy expended on the cultivation.

I see God’s kingdom—two children growing faster than my heart can handle. There is nothing useless, unimaginative, and ugly about them. Instead theirs is a beauty that, when beheld, no one wants to erase, for in their eyes … on their faces and beneath their skin, there radiates the glow of heaven. A golden hue reminiscent of a golden road that links them directly back to the inapproachable light of a glorious God.

God’s kingdom is like them; tiny mustard seeds growing alongside their brothers and sisters in Christ to develop into a garden without boundaries. A garden that multiplies over time to become the sought-after perch and shade for the birds of the air.

We are there too, being cultivated and grafted into a kingdom without end. A golden carpet of splendor rolled out for all of humanity as the pathway home to the King. As you consider your “plant”—your part in God’s kingdom this week—be reminded that your beauty is needed. The light you carry within added to the light I carry within becomes an illumination that beckons weary travelers to pause from frantic flight and to, instead, find rest within our branches.

God has fashioned us to be his perch and shade to a world in need of a safe place to land. In doing so, his kingdom advances. One seed at a time; one heart at a time; one prayer at a time; one cold compress and one temperature-taking at a time; one Scripture at time. One blog post at a time.

That is how my Sunday fits together … a day fast approaching its end. It’s been messy and cluttered and filled with ranging emotions, yet when all is cast at the feet of the King, all becomes material he can work with. He’s done it for me; he’ll do it for you as well.

Blessings this week as you fan into flame your candle and expand your branches to become God’s extension of rest to a people who need the truth behind their sacred worth. We are all the useful, imaginative, beautiful, and unerasable work of his hands.

Walk your inheritance well. As always…

peace for the journey,

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a night Visitor…

September 1, 2009

“One night Eli, whose eyes were becoming so weak that he could barely see, was lying down in his usual place. The lamp of God had not yet gone out, and Samuel was lying down in the temple of the LORD, where the ark of God was. Then the LORD called Samuel.” (1 Samuel 3:2-4).

I’m not a good sleeper, but last night I slept … good. The night colored darker than usual, the sound machine gently lulled my slumber, the overhead ceiling fan operated at full throttle, and there were no boys above me to creak the witness of their presence. I went to bed earlier than usual, tucking myself in with some truth from God’s Word and some audible prayers for the saints.

Sleep was sweet, and then sleep was interrupted. Not by a loud noise or a neighboring dog or even the sound of my husband snoring. No, the culprit behind my “bolt-upright in bed” response was nothing more than the sound of a page turning in my Bible. It lay open by my bed; apparently the breeze created by the ceiling fan forced its movement. In doing so, it forced my notice.

For a few minutes, I became cognizant to the spiritual domain hovering close by. I’m not a mystic, nor do I major on the physical manifestations of the “unseen” dimension that I heartily believe to be at work around us 24/7. But I’ve lived with God long enough and deep enough to realize when he is making a point.

He made one last evening, and before I could forget it, I grabbed the pad of paper and pen that lay bedside and wrote down these words in the dark…

That’s the way our faith is with God. He shows up, pages turn, and the whispers of his grace wake us from our dismal slumber.

As quickly as I was awakened from my slumber, I returned to its embrace. When I awoke this morning, I wondered if my imagination was to blame for my earlier alertness. One quick glance at my notebook told me otherwise. The handwriting was a bit skewed, but the words verified the moment. And this morning, I’m thinking that maybe someone today needs to hear the truth about a “showing up, page turning, whispering grace” kind of God.

Our faith activates his presence. Every time. There is no “maybe” on his part; no “if I feel like it” or “if I’m not busy”. Our God is faithful to arrive upon the scenes of our lives as we are faithful to seek him out. Not just at night (although I think the quiet of evening and the cover of darkness is tailor made for his arrival), but also during the daytime when light is obvious and our senses are most alert to the movement around us.

If God is about anything, he’s about turning the pages of our stories with the idea that a conclusion is fast approaching. We cannot stop his inevitable end to our stories; we can stall the progress toward that end … put up roadblocks and force some heavy editing in the process, but make no mistake. Our books are being written by the very hand of God, and one day soon, ours will shelve alongside the ancients of old where we will spend an eternity, together with them, enraptured by the “read”.

Some of you, today, need for a page to turn in your life. Need the hand of God to reach down from heaven and end the suspense of the preceding paragraphs that have captured your attention for a long season. You desire to move on, to get on with the rest of your story, but you are stuck … mired down in the confusion of some words and with an understanding that refuses to move you on to the next page. Perhaps your strength has waned with the reading, forcing your slumber and your inattentiveness. Perhaps, even your faith has taken a hit.

I understand. I, too, have hosted some seasons of being stuck. I’m afraid I don’t have a ten-step plan or a fifteen-chapter book that will guarantee your success at breaking free from its grip. No, when I walk through times of slumber, times of wishing for the “page to turn” but unable to do so through my own strength, the only thing I know to do is to keep walking … keep refusing the pre-mature end to my story that, apparently, has a chapter or two more to be written.

In those seasons, I simply bring the unfinished product to Jesus, lay it before him, and ask him to move it forward … to move me forward. To reach down from heaven with the whispers of his grace and to blow the pages of my life and the faith of my heart onward.

He’s never disappointed me; he’s always been faithful and deliberate with his showing up. Granted, the progress is sometimes a bit slow for my taste, but even then, I’m willing to concede that my taste and my Father’s are not always equal in their merit. I cannot see the finished product; he can, and so I make a decision to trust him with the pace believing that the end will arrive on time and with the sacred conclusion of my final perfection.

I don’t how this strikes you today; maybe it’s not for you. But for a few of you, those of you whose eyes have grown “weak” and whose perception has grown dim, I want you to know the truth of my late-night encounter with the presence of the living God. When you activate your faith and incline your heart in his direction, he is faithful to reach down from the heavenlies and to turn the pages of your story in perfect keeping with his will.

If you are stuck today, I pray the whispers of God’s grace to be your portion and the witness of his presence to be your comfort. Your story is but one divine breath away from turning its page and moving its words forward into the annals of an everlasting faith. May God grant you the courage and the wisdom to relinquish the pen into his capable hands. As always…

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PS: I didn’t plan on being here today, but then again, I didn’t plan on a night visitor. I don’t know when I’ll be here again; I’m sensing the need to pull away for a few days. Please know that I keep you in my heart throughout the day. You’ve all become a vital and integral part in my faith journey, and I count it a privilege to live in fellowship with you. Enjoy this beautiful day we’ve been given; may the sure and certain presence of our Father find you on the pages of your story this week. Shalom.

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