Category Archives: prayer

Praying my Peace…

Praying my Peace…

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” (Phil. 4:6-7)
 
 
Before I write my heart to you this morning, I need you to know this one thing up front:
 
I’m writing from a place of prayerfulness and peacefulness in the Lord… emphasis on the “fullness.” With prayer comes peace. It’s God’s promise to us as his children. Several years ago, I memorized this portion of Scripture because it was a promise I could hang my heart on—a truth that has proven truthful to me time and again as I have been faithful to meet the requirement therein…
 
To pray about everything.
 
Prayer is directly connected to the thoughts of our hearts and minds. Keeping connected to the King in prayer is a fail-safe way of taking all thoughts captive and making them obedient to Christ. When we’re talking to him, listening to him, sharing life with him in the most personal of ways, we experience one of the purest, most holy avenues of worship we’ll ever know on this side of eternity. When we pray, we acknowledge our humanness and our righteousness all in the same breath. Prayer is the link between our flesh and our faith, between our hearts and God’s.
 
Prayer is a gift and a privilege and the one reason I am able to type this next sentence with a strong measure peace in my heart.
 
My good and kind friends, I have breast cancer.
 
Yesterday marked the beginning of my official diagnosis. Today marks the beginning of my living within the reality of what all of that means. I imagine it’s been with me while—the cancer—hiding quietly in the lower quadrant of my right breast. Three weeks ago a mammogram detected a discrepancy which led to further tests which led to a biopsy which led to yesterday’s labeling. And while it has come as a shock to my family (and rightly so) there is a deep sense of understanding and “settling” within my spirit. I can only attribute that kind of personal peace to the prayers and the faith that have been lived out prior to this moment in time.
 
God has well-prepared me for the road ahead, friends. I haven’t a clue as to the particulars, and I’m certain that there will be times of confusion, pain, questions, and tears. But I’m also certain that there will be times of clarity, answers, joys, and victories. This morning, I’m reminded of something that God scripted onto my heart a season back when a similar “threat” loomed on my horizon (first written in this post). He has embedded it into my thoughts over time; it will serve as an anchor for me in the days to come.
 
“It doesn’t matter how long God chooses to preserve my earthly life. What matters is how I choose to preserve him in the earthly life I’ve been given.”
 
Pray that I preserve him well each step of the way. And if you would, please pray for my family—that God would give them, each one, a similar measure of peace and strength for the journey ahead. We walk it together, you and me and them. It’s what Christians do best—corporately loving and living out our kingdom conferment. You bless me with the gift of your friendship—your sacred participation in my life; I need it now more than ever. As always…
 
Peace for the journey,

~elaine

a prayer for my Amelia…

a prayer for my Amelia…

***See update below…


Would you do me a favor? Would you pray for baby girl… my Amelia? Today was the first day of school for my two youngest at their new school. Jadon fared pretty well, but Amelia… well, not so well. She got sick at lunch, played by herself at recess, and didn’t go to the bathroom all day. She’s extremely fearful regarding the making of new friends and of “doing” her papers correctly. She was inconsolable the entire evening, pleading with me not to make her return to school tomorrow. In addition, she’s experiencing bouts of anxiety that somewhat resemble panic attacks.

This tears at my mother’s heart, and I’m completely exhausted with it all. I don’t know how to help her; in many ways, I relate to her pain and have had my own difficulty navigating these days of change. It’s my heart’s desire to live with a “thumb’s up” approach to daily living. Some days, however, it’s tough to keep upright. I’m praying my way through this; I’d appreciate yours as well.

In addition, I’m awaiting word of recent, personal medical tests… never an easy wait.

May God grant each one of us the daily grace we need to push past the confusion and rest peacefully in his good and tender care. Blessed weekend to you and yours. As always…

Peace for the journey,

~elaine

PS: To the relief and praise of her parents’ hearts, we were met with a smile this afternoon when picking up Miss Amelia. Thank you, friends, a thousand times over for blessing us with your prayers. It may seem insignificant to some, but to us it means everything. Blessed weekend to you all!

 

"a little bit of money…"

"a little bit of money…"

My daughter celebrated her 8th birthday this past week. At the top of her wish list?

A little bit of money (her words, not mine).

I read her list aloud to my precious group of “ancients” back in my former town (I had to return this week for a Dr.’s visit, scheduling it on a Tuesday to make sure I didn’t miss the weekly lunch gathering). When I finished reading her list, not only were there chuckles a plenty, but also there was money flying at me from every direction.

“Give this to Amelia… a little bit of money from me, one of the ancients.”

On and on it arrived into my lap, and in the end, Amelia had more than a little bit of money. She had forty-two dollars worth of money! Needless to say, her heart smiled big as she opened up her unexpected treasure. The moment reminded me, yet again, of an important truth regarding our God and his surprises.

He always surpasses our expectations. He can’t help himself. He’s God. Exceeding expectations is a quality built into his character.

We can’t always see it; further still, there are seasons when we refuse to believe it. I know. I’ve been there recently. My little bit of money has seemed paltry at times. Accordingly, I’ve kept my expectations pretty low. These are the steps I’ve lived. I’m not proud of them. I’m just keeping it real with you.

But so is God… keeping it real. And just this morning, he surprised me with a little bit of something…

Himself… right around 11:45 AM while sitting amongst the few saints gathered in corporate worship at Christ UMC.

I don’t know if it was the text that was being preached from John 4—the interchange between Jesus and the Samaritan woman at the well. Or, perhaps the preacher—he has a way of making my heart skip a beat from time to time. Or, maybe the fact that my family was gathered all around me. Regardless of the externals, somewhere around 11:45 AM, my husband’s words admonished us to consider “true worship” and the “audience of One” who awaited our worship on Sunday mornings—the One who rends the heavens in order to get a closer look at the two or three gathered to entreat the Lover of their souls. As the words were falling from his lips, I felt the tremor of all creation radiating through my body. From head to toe, outward and in full measure, the Spirit of God resonated with his Spirit living in me, and I was surprised by the gift.

Not just a little bit of God. A whole big bunch of God. And for the first time since being in my new house of worship, I felt a pulse—the living, breathing pulse of heaven, convincing me that God is alive and active and on the move amongst our lampstand. I think others felt it as well, and I am glad for some corporate understanding at this level. I don’t think God’s pulse beats in isolation. There’s something about the gathering of two or three hearts in unified purpose that seems to manifest the presence of the Almighty—one of the primary reasons for our “doing church” as a family.

“I’m counting on the probability that when our Sunday gatherings commence, there will be at least two or three others who have gathered with a similar intention. I want my children [as well as myself] to be in the path of other believers, giving them the opportunity for the sacred intersection of their hearts with the heart of the living God, who knit them together in his likeness.” (pg. 135, “peace for the journey: in the pleasure of his company”).

God is not “dead” in this place. God’s pulse has never been absent from this new congregation. Rather, God’s just been waiting for his children to put his presence at the top of their wish list. To dare to ask for a little bit of himself in hopes and in expectation for eventual fulfillment. Today, I received an inclination of just what that might mean for all of us in the days to come—one sacred dollar at a time, collected and gathered over time, until our laps are overloaded with joy and merriment for the lavish outpouring from his heart into ours. He just can’t help himself. He’s God, and exceeding our expectations is built into his character.

Today, you and I stand on the threshold of a new week. Many are the plans we’ve made; many of them based on necessity, on survival, on making it through another 24/7. Some of us enter the week full of expectation; some with little more than limited hope to make it through. Some of us have God’s presence at the top of our wish list; some of us have asked for lesser things. Regardless of what we’ve asked for or how the level of our anticipation currently measures, God, too, stands at the threshold of our new week. He walks it with us; not apart from us, and if we could get an inclination of just how much he wants to bless us with the revelation of his presence, I’m certain that we’d ask for more. Not just a little bit of God, but rather a whole big bunch of him. That kind of asking is in keeping with our God and his “real.” That’s just how much he wants to be known by his children.


Oh for faith to ask him for more. For faith to trust him more. For faith to expect his more. For faith to unwrap his more. May God extend his heart of mercy into your faith this week and surprise you with a little bit of himself until his pulse multiplies and gathers to become the great expectation of your heart.

Let’s unwrap our awesome God together. I’d love to know how our Father reveals his presence to you this week. As always…

Peace for the journey,

~elaine

PS: The winners for Sandi Patty’s new book will be announced with my next post. There’s still time to enter. Just add a comment to that post, and you’re in! Shalom.

"unpack me"… a night Visitor re-visits

{Hadn’t planned on being here today; hadn’t planned on writing today. Some days, however, our experiences call for some words, some remembrance. This was one of them. Maybe I wrote them for you as well. Shalom.}

“But when he, the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all truth. He will not speak on his own; he will speak only what he hears, and he will tell you what is yet to come. He will bring glory to me by taking from what is mine and making it known to you.” –John 16:13-14

“Unpack me.”

Words that haunt me eleven hours beyond the moment they first enveloped me. Somewhere along 1:30 AM, I awoke with the startling awareness that God’s presence was within reach. I couldn’t see him, but I could feel him… the kind of feeling that frightens me, all the while enlivening me. A deep, rich peace surrounding me, calling for my attention and my willingness to entreat the “voice” of my Father. Past experience has taught me not to run from his voice, but instead, to wait for it.

This time, it was immediate. Not audible in the exterior, but loud and clear in my interior. I groped for the pen and notebook that resides on my bedside bookshelf and scribbled down these words in the dark:

“There is none so mysterious as the One standing in this room with you at this very minute.”

“Then what am I to do with you, Lord?”

“Unpack me.”

As quickly as the words arrived, they stopped; the pen and paper found their way home, and I snuggled deeper beneath the cover of night, cradling the gift I’d just been given—

The voice of God.

It arrived on the heels of an evening prayer where I’d wrestled some things out with my Father on my face and with some ample tears to chorus my questions. Questions about his character and his trustworthiness as they pertain to my life. Dangerous questions to ask, yet ones I needed to articulate because my faith had been challenged along these lines earlier in the week (thanks, friend, for the call, the faith, and the prod).

Can I trust the character of God? What is sum total of God’s character? Am I operating from his reality—the truest truth—or from a reality based on my perceptions regarding his interaction in my life? Can I know the character of God, and if so, how do I get there? How do I piece together a better understanding of who he is, so that I can begin to operate my faith from there rather than from a place of skewed awareness? Could it be that a lack of faith stems from ignorance regarding the true nature of faith’s Creator—faith’s Author and Perfecter?

Dangerous questions, yet ones that my Father was willing to entreat on my behalf last evening, because when it comes to his character and his child’s willingness to know him more fully, he bends low to listen, even further to deliver his answer.

“Unpack me.”

And with his voice, I discover something most distinctive about the character of my God.

He is near, and he wants to be known. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have taken the time to startle my soul from slumber and give witness to his mysteriousness, all the while allowing me an unpacking of him therein.

Are we meant to hold mystery and revelation all in the same moment?

Apparently so.

I held it last evening; it holds me today. It leads me to worship. It moves me to faith.

Perhaps today, at the beginning of a new beginning, you have some similar questions for our Father. Perhaps you languish in your understanding of God’s character. Perhaps you’re wondering if he can be trusted with your life. Perhaps you’ve seen much, lived through much, fought through much, to the point where your “much” seems too much in keeping with the character of a good God. Your faith is shaken, and you’re heart is asking…

“What am I to do with you, Lord?”

If that is the earnest and honest and purest plea of your heart, would you be willing to leave it with our Father? I don’t have the answers to all of your questions; I certainly haven’t found the answers to all of mine. But I know where to bring them. I trust the character of God enough to know that he receives them, hears them, ponders them, and then in his own time, his own way—

He answers them.

Sometimes in a whisper. Sometimes through a loud roar in the midst of loud day. Sometimes in the reading of his Word. Sometimes at the altar of grace. Sometimes through another’s kindness. Sometimes in a storm. Sometimes in peaceful waters, and sometimes in the middle of the night—bending low and standing bedside to honor the request of his daughter’s heart.

All the times, I think, through a simple two word command that leads all hearts to a greater point of sacred understanding.

“Unpack me.”

Are you willing to move past the questions, friends, into a greater revelation of our Father’s character? I am willing because today I hold the worth of a night’s pause with a night Visitor. I don’t imagine I shall ever recover; I’m certain that I don’t want to…

ever recover from God.

Let’s unpack him together in 2010. It would be my privilege to come alongside you in your night’s pause to entreat the voice of our King. As always…

peace for the journey,

~elaine

Copyright © January 2010 – Elaine Olsen

a prayer for Runner Mom…

Would you all bless my heart by remembering our sweet blogging friend, Susan (most folks just call her “runner mom”), in prayer this week? Susan’s father, Mr. James Furman, passed away unexpectedly into the arms of his heavenly Father this past Saturday. He’d just arrived home from turning on the heat at his church in preparation for Sunday services and mentioned to Mrs. Lib (his bride of fifty-six years) that he wasn’t feeling well. Moments later, Mr. James moved from his earthly “tent” into his heavenly dwelling, and all the angels of heaven stood by to watch him make his glorious entrance to his Father’s throne.

Tomorrow, Mrs. Lib, Susan, and the rest of the family will stand graveside to memorialize the life and witness of Mr. James Furman. I understand him to be a fine, Godly man, who lived his life on purpose and with the hope of heaven reigning supreme. I certainly know him and Mrs. Lib to be the parents of one extraordinary daughter.

I highly esteem Susan, as does my family. She’s a faith walker, and I am privileged to count her as my good friend. (What kind of person drives five hours to meet an “internet” friend, sight unseen, and live under her roof for two nights with her exceptionally bizarre and wild family–all because she was willing to take a few pictures for said “internet” friend’s book? I’ll let you decide.)

Welcome home, good and faithful James. Your Father has been waiting for you…

peace for the journey,

~elaine

PS: If any of you would like to send Susan a card in the mail, please e-mail me, and I will send you her address. Her computer is currently not cooperating with her life. Shalom.

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