a letter to a friend…

“As the rain and snow come down from heaven, and do not return to it without watering the earth and making it bud and flourish, so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater, so is my word that goes out from my mouth: It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.” {Isaiah 55:10-11}
Dear New Friend:

I thought about you tonight.

As my family made entrance into the local Blockbuster to peruse our evening’s entertainment, I remained in the warmth of my van, perusing the contents of my recent purchase.

Your new Bible.

You won’t be the first to crack its spine. I’ve already done that on your behalf. It naturally and without prompt fell open to Haggai, page 1247. My heart was moved to tears. It’s not by accident that my eyes landed there—a profound reminder for both of us about keeping “first things first” … God first. Haggai is one of the shortest reads in holy writ, admonishing its recipients to “give careful attention” to their paneled houses—to all the ways we’ve majored on selfish gain while giving little thought to spiritual gain. Our neglect in regards to the building of God’s “house” within us, leaves us as we are rather than as he intends for us to be.

A good word for you as you begin a deeper trek inward into the treasure trove of God’s Word. Thank you for asking for it… for being willing to brave the articulations of your heart and wanting to know just exactly what it means to “get into the Word.” Your genuine request touched me in the deepest way. I don’t often receive this one—a plea for understanding on how to “do” this adventure called “discipleship,” of going deeper with God but not sure what that means. What that looks like. Where that starts. How that is managed. I have an inclination that you already know how that feels, and if your hunger feels anything like mine did seven years ago, then you, my friend, are overwhelmed with desire. Wanting to know more, but not sure how to get there.

You get there one verse at a time. One tender moment at a time. One prayer, one thought, one question bravely given to our God and, then, allowing him time enough to answer you through the power of his holy Word. You don’t go in expecting to hold his “all” in one sitting. Instead, you pace yourself, content to know that any time spent with Jesus on the pages of Scripture will seed in you more knowledge, deeper peace, and a stronger understanding of who he is. Not just sometimes, but every time. God has gone before us to write his Word in accurate measure. Not one “t” remains uncrossed; not one “i” un-dotted.

God’s Word is perfect. Is life. Is effectual. Is flawless. Is the very breath of his holy heart. Is consecrated and set apart for our good gain. As you are faithful to come to its pages, to unfold it one story at a time, God is faithful to bring you into a spiritual fullness you’ve never known before. This is the sure witness of my heart. These “ain’t” just words, sister. This has been God’s very good gift to me—the transformational work of my heart that began in magnified measure seven years ago when I had a head-on collision with the Word’s incomparable strength.

God’s Word has changed me. It will change you as well. And for the record, if you never receive any further instruction—via the pulpit, another teacher, another Bible-study, another blog, another retreat, another song—you’ve been given everything you need to engage with the truth of Scripture and to live out its witness (1 John 2:27). If Jesus is your Savior, then you have his living Spirit within you (John 14, 16). He will counsel you as you go; he will administer understanding that exceeds human attempts at having it all make sense.

Do we need help from time to time, some mentoring from those who’ve been at this longer? You bet. That’s why we do Bible study; why we surround our lives with good resources that will poke and prod us along in our sacred transformation. But when it’s not there, when we are left to our quiet contemplation before Father God and with his Word, then don’t let the enemy fool you into thinking that nothing is happening. That it can’t work because you lack the knowledge or don’t have the spiritual “resume” to back up your hunger.

Things always happen with God and with his Word… even when you can’t see it, feel it, conceive it, understand it. Even when you’re having a hard time believing it. God’s Word accomplishes its purpose in us; this is his promise to us. This is his promise to you (Isaiah 55:11-12; Hebrews 4:12).

So I thought about you tonight in front of Blockbuster, and I cried. I remembered how far these “pages” have brought me in a short time and how fully they continue to carry me, sustain me, and enliven me to the spiritual pulse of all creation. And I am overwhelmed with the thought of what they might do for you. Thus, a few tears of baptism and a prayer of consecration over your new Bible on this cold night in a warm van. There’s a lifetime of wealth within its covers. From front to back and every consecrated word in between, there lives a history that has always been… that will always be. You are part of that history; so am I. We are there, intricately woven within a story that’s been flowing in and out of the mind and heart of God for all eternity.

What a privilege to walk that story with you … to be included in something so far beyond us, yet so gracefully bestowed upon us because of a Father’s infinite love and great grace. You have reminded me of why I am in the kingdom business, friend. Why I have cast me lot with the Lover of my soul and have committed my heart, my steps, my pen, my all in his direction. And should he grant me a few more days of witness upon this earth, then by the grace of God, may my all continue to point you and others to the everlasting truth of his living Word.

Thanks for being brave. Thanks for reaching out. Your Bible will soon be home with you. As always…

peace for the journey,

~elaine
PS: Thank you to so many of you for leaving words of encouragement and congrats on my two-year anniversary last post. I had a hard time deciding what to do for three of you, so rather than picking a prize, I’m allowing the three winners to pick their prize… a Christian book or CD of choice that I can easily find on CBD or Amazon! E-mail me your choices {$15 limit please}, and I’ll order these this week. Random winners are…
#6 Rebecca @ Life and Godliness
#33 Kathy S. @ Blessed Builder
#49 Deb @ He Gave Me a Dream

two years of "peace"…

Just under the wire, and after eight hours worth of uploading (I’m just about to quit posting videos), I give you my greeting and my thanks for walking this blogging road with me for two years. That’s right… 24 months and 730 days worth of my life shared with you, in part, at my cyber address. Thank you for your faithfulness. You are why I’m here.

PS: Would love to know you’re here, even if you’ve never commented before. Click on the word “comment,” sign in as an “anonymous” contributor, add your thoughts, type in a jumble of letters if you’re prompted, and then hit publish! Enjoy your weekend, friends. Shalom.

footprints…

footprints…

I am reminded of something this morning… something so small that if not carefully looking for that something, it is easily missed. Something so seemingly routine and mundane. Something we usually take for granted.

Footprints.

Ours and others.

Every one of us is leaving an indelible impression upon the ground beneath our feet. Some of those impressions but a whisper—unobtrusive and gentle.


Some a bit louder and more invasive.

Regardless of the size and scope of out imprints, we cannot escape the fact that they are ours to walk… to share, to leave. To say that we’ve been here, that our lives have touched the parcel of ground beneath our feet. Our footprints stand as a witness (both for us and against us) as to how we’ve invested our energies on planet earth.

And while others may not be paying close attention to the paths we are marking, there is One who is well aware of our tracks. He sees them from above. He walks them with us as we go. Whatever the soil beneath our feet, we carry the unshakeable kingdom of God with us. We are the fleshy temple of his eternal pulse.

When we get that, when we begin to see our footprints as something other than ours, then we begin to walk more carefully, more intentionally, more fully aware of just exactly how important our lives are to live each and every day.

Today, my footprints land me in close proximity to my front door. Another snow day has claimed my “to do list”, and I won’t lie to you. I’m not thrilled about it. I need my children to be in school today. But they’re not. They’re here with me and already beginning to wonder if I have plans to walk in their direction at some point. They are the kingdom soil beneath my feet in this moment, and I am praying for the grace and the patience to tread lightly and tenderly to their need so that they can better understand the love and grace of God that has been assigned to them via my flesh. So that they can follow my lead and begin to leave their personal footprints on a world that desperately needs the witness of God’s love and grace via their flesh.

Footprints.

Something to think about.

Where are yours walking? What impression are they leaving?

Currently, my feet are headed to the kitchen to look for batteries. Miss Amelia’s “air hog” is out of juice. Jadon is standing bedside with a newly assorted collection of baseball cards ready for my perusal. I’m not sure how my acquiescing to Amelia’s urgent need for batteries or looking at Jadon’s baseball cards will point them to Jesus, but I’m fairly certain that the way in which I respond to their “immediate” will speak a witness all its own.

How desperate I am for more of Jesus in me in this very moment! Now. He is my immediate need so that I can better respond to theirs.

May God grant us, each one, more of his wisdom, his love, his kindness, and his grace so that we might leave some lasting, kingdom footprints upon the lives of those who sit under our influence in the next twenty-four hours. I’ll see you on the other side of our snow day, friends. As always…

peace for the journey,

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one so blessed…


She is precious beyond words and a pure delight to my heart. Her name is Joanne, serving up her cup of blogging flavor over at One So Blessed. Beginning Monday, February 1st, Joanne will be hosting a month’s worth of guest interviews. You can read about some of them here.

I first “sort of” encountered Joanne back at She Speaks in 2008. We both attended a class on “how to plan a powerful, effective 15-minute publisher meeting.” The speaker offered many helpful tips, especially for those of us who had never been in a 15-minute publisher meeting… effective or otherwise! I left the class feeling flustered, thankful for the information, but worried about my assimilating the material into my first effective, 15-minute publisher meeting which loomed on the very near horizon. While sitting on the couch outside the classroom, I perused my notes and noticed a tearful gal on a couch within close proximity. She seemed as perplexed as me about the entire process; I wish I could have given her some of my energy at that time, but you know…

my first effective 15-minute publisher meeting!

There wasn’t time to offer her a Kleenex and some of my Harry and David’s chocolate I’d brought with me (Joy ate most of them anyway). I left her with her tears as I scurried off to my effective 15-minute publisher meeting, and while I would see her occasionally throughout the weekend, we never had the occasion to sit and talk.

A great regret on my part.

Since that time, we’ve talked frequently. Apparently, neither of us had an incredibly effective 15-minute publisher meeting, but we learned a lot that weekend.

About dreams.

About writing.

About how our dreams are weaved intricately into our writing.

About some of the hard knocks of the publishing industry.

About friendships that survive those hard knocks.

About phones that diminish the distance between hearts.

About laughter that strips away barriers connecting an East Coast gal with a West Coast one.

About the tie that binds our hearts in love.

About Jesus who keeps us, loves us and cares for us, even when the “future” isn’t painting a clear picture… especially in regards to our writing.

About the worthiness of sacred investment–of making a kingdom deposit into someone’s life, even when that deposit is something as small as a comment or a prayer.

Stuff like that.

And that kind of learning, friends, can’t be learned in a pre-conference seminar. That kind of learning exceeds a ten-step plan for success and simply relies on the human need for companionship as its teacher.

People are a fascinating business. We’ve all got a story to tell, and no one is more qualified to write that story than the one to whom it belongs. For nearly two years, I’ve been “reading” Joanne’s story, and she’s been “reading” mine. I am the better for having her in my life; I hope she could say the same about me. The greatest investment we will ever make into God’s kingdom agenda can never be quantified or measured by the outcome of an effective 15-minute publisher meeting. Kingdom investing happens when we take the time to personally invest our time and energies into the lives of the King’s created.

Joanne qualifies. So do the twenty-eight guests she will be highlighting at her blog in the month of February. So do you. So let’s get busy getting to know one another better; let’s stop the rushing with our blog hopping and take time to sit at the table with one another, enjoying a cup of flavor served up as only you, the writer, are qualified to serve it.

You fill my life with variety, and you enlarge my heart for Jesus. Blogging isn’t a game for me, friends. This is big part of my using the gift that God has given me to give back to him in some measure the “hugeness” that he’s so lavishly bestowed upon me. I count it a privilege to come alongside of you in small and big ways as the Lord allows. Would you join me this February at Joanne’s place? Her table has been set with enough seating for us all. As always…

peace for the journey,

PS: I’m closing comments on this post so that you can head directly over to Joanne’s and leave one there; plus, there’s a give-away–real coffee… the good kind! Shalom.

moving past my "average"…

moving past my "average"…

“Dear friends, now we are children of God, and what we will be has not yet been made known. But we know that when he appears, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is.” (1 John 3:2)


Her words spoke the penchant of her heart…

“Mommy, I want to be just like you.”

“No you don’t baby, you want to be better. You want you to live better. I’m just average.”

“Yes, I do mommy. I want to grow up to be just like you. What’s average?”

***

And I am undone with the conversation.

Average. A word I occasionally use to jokingly refer to my raw capabilities as a human being. It usually lands me a chuckle, but last night it landed me a question.

“What’s average?”

According to Merriam-Webster.com, average is “a single value that summarizes or represents the general significance of a set of unequal values.”

I don’t know what bugs me the most about this definition… the “single value that summarizes” part or the “general significance of a set of unequal values” part. Single value and general significance aren’t phrases in keeping with human value. The term “average” is best assigned to mathematical calculations, not people. Still and yet, it is a word all too common in our vernacular when describing the human condition, the human performance, the human beings created with an eternal pulse and an eternal end in mind.

When I look into the eyes of my young daughter, I see nothing “average.” No single value that summarizes her or classifies her as generally significant. She far exceeds any mathematical label or quantifying therein.

I am not always so kind with myself.

When I look into the eyes staring back at me in the mirror, I am sometimes tempted to use that word. Average seems a good median to balance out the times when I’ve gotten it very right and the occasions when I’ve lived it very wrong. And while I’m not content to allow my daughter this kind of labeling, all too often I am content to wear it as my name tag. It may not stick on me in the “visible” for others to see, but when given room and stage enough to shout its witness within the interior of my soul, my “average” moves outward.

“For out of the overflow of the heart, the mouth speaks” (Matthew 12:34).

My mouth spoke it last night. Casually at first; more painfully as the night wore on. I am not past the moment, friends. I’ve wrestled with it all night and into these morning hours. The sun has given its exclamation to a new day, and the Son has given his exclamation to a new and living way. A way that walks in truth and that leaves no room for talk of “general significance” or one “single value that summarizes.”

There’s nothing general about God and his love for his created people, no one single sin that summarizes the whole. When we lower the standard on ourselves, when “average” becomes the label rather than the righteousness that belongs to us as children of the Most High God, then we demean the grace of the cross. Christ’s blood bled far too costly and too red to allow us a meager labeling of ourselves. What he did there canceled out human averaging. What he did there exponentially exceeded the worst of human sin, thus allowing every believing heart a labeling beyond the “average.”

Redeemed. Forgiven. Beloved. Accepted. Treasured. Righteous. Sought After. Living Temple. Heir. Friend. Light. Overcomer. Mighty Warrior. Holy. Consecrated. Treasure-Keeper. Truth-Teller. Grace-Dispenser.

Indeed, there is nothing “average” about the labels that Christ intends for us to wear. On our own and left to personal averaging along these lines, we’ll never do enough good to cancel out our bad so as to move us from our mediocrity. But when Jesus and his atoning sacrifice are added to the paltry lot we bring to the table, then our “general significance” takes a bow to our eternal significance. With salvation we put to death the former self in order to walk with God’s new labels, none of which root in “average”; all of which root in the Divine.

And so, today I wrestle with my labels. I think back on the previous night’s conversation, and I am touched by a daughter who sees something in me that I rarely see in myself. She sees someone she wants to be; she doesn’t remember all the times I’ve gotten it wrong. She simply and lovingly remembers all the times I’ve lived it right. She sees beyond my “average,” and I am thankful today for the reminder of heaven’s grace that has come to me through her adoration. May it come to you as well.

Don’t let a single value—a single sin or past regret—summarize your steps this day. You are not generally significant to our God. You are extraordinarily contemplated, crafted and designed to hold the life-giving pulse of God’s Spirit within your feeble flesh. And that, fellow pilgrims, bumps you up from your average status into excellence.

Excellent. Wear God’s label well; live it all the more. By his strength, I will live the same. As always…

peace for the journey,
~elaine

PS: I won’t be around here for a few days; I’ll want to be here, but I have a great many preparations to make for our upcoming Bible study, a retreat to attend, and some writing to do in my current WIP. I’ll be back next week with more of our “breakfast on the beach with Jesus.” Until then, may God’s love for you and joy over you move you past your “average” into his “excellence.” Shalom.

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