A Community of Grace Seekers
looking for the grace of God in our ordinary everyday lives
Search Me and Know My Heart
Psalm 139 has long been a favorite passage of mine. When my children were born, I wrote Psalm 139 out on paper, replacing the pronouns with their names, and prayed it over them. In 2020, I adopted the psalm as my anthem, and I read it daily for more than a year, trying to understand my own belovedness. But when I read the book Sacred Rhythms, I started to think about & understand it in a new way. Ruth Haley Barton presents Psalm 139 as a lens for self examination. Let me explain this idea to you.
The psalm begins by acknowledging that God has already searched us completely. Listen to the first 4 verses:
1 O Lord, you have examined my heart and know everything about me.
2 You know when I sit down or stand up. You know my thoughts even when I’m far away.
3 You see me when I travel and when I rest at home. You know everything I do.
4 You know what I am going to say even before I say it, Lord.
In self examination, the real issue is not inviting God to see us - God already sees us and knows us fully - the issue is that I am inviting God to help me know the real me.
When children are small, they love hide and seek - only their hiding places aren’t exactly hidden. Small children will cover their eyes and believe that of they cannot see, no one can see them either! We are prone to the same thinking - maybe if I don’t acknowledge what is true about my weakness, God won’t notice either. But in reality God has already seen us and loves us infinitely more than we can fathom. When we learn to believe this truth, the presence of God becomes a safe space for us to know ourselves and be known more honestly.
Ruth Haley Barton says there are 3 crucial beliefs we must come to hold as we examine our lives and how we encounter God. The first is the belief in the goodness of God. We are in church, so we may “know” the right answer here, but it is possible (and even probable) that somewhere along the way, we began to doubt God’s goodness toward us personally. Heartache, trauma, spiritual abuse, manipulation by the church - they all get in the way of trusting that God will not pull the football away from us the way Lucy always did to Charlie Brown. The second absolute belief we must hold is that love is our primary calling. Love can be inconvenient and hard. Love requires us to move away from our natural tendency toward self-centeredness. Love is risky and scary and has no guarantees. All of those are true AND love is the highest and deepest calling for us as Christ-followers. The third belief that is foundational is that God communicates with us through the Holy Spirit and it is Spirit who enables us to love. Jesus showed us what love looks like, and when he left this earth, Spirit was sent to help us interpret love in our right-now life. These three beliefs - God is good - Love is our calling - Spirit teaches us and enables us to listen and to love - are the foundation of how we live in this life. They are also the lens we look through as we examine ourselves in the presence of God.
So I want to share with you a practice called examen. Examen is a regular practice, taught by St Ignatius of Loyola, of reflecting on our lives to understand God’s movement and calling.
The first part of examen is to simply recognize and trust God’s love and presence. We have to begin to integrate the truth that God is loving and trustworthy. Then we have to begin to notice God in our lives. These 2 things go hand in hand, and one of the easiest ways to do this is by spending just a few minutes at the end of each day in quiet reflection.
Get still and invite God to help you notice the ways God has been present to you in this day. It might be as simple as noticing the sunrise or the changing of the leaves. Did someone show you compassion? Did you hold your tongue instead of lashing out to your partner? Did you practice patience with your kid or with your parent or your coworker? Ask yourself - where did I most clearly experience God today?
Next ask God to help you look honestly at the opportunities you missed to receive and share God’s love. Did you rush through your prayer time because you were in a hurry? Did you lose your temper? Did you hide your true self because you were afraid of rejection? Did you allow yourself to get lost in self-criticism? Ask yourself, where did I miss experiencing God today?
Healthy self-examination leads us to transformation, and it includes joyfully accepting Gods love and believing in our identity as image-bearers. Transformational self examination also must include a courageous and honest look at the darker places within our soul.
David wrote Psalm 139. David, through his writing, gives us an intimate peek at the inner parts of his journey of transformation. We see David as a youth, bravely facing a giant-of-a-soldier that everyone else was too afraid to fight. We see David, anointed as king before the former king was even off the throne. We see David fleeing for his life, hiding in caves, and we see David, dancing in the streets worshipping God. We see David, the fallen hero - the king who stayed home when he should have been leading his troops in war, the royal who abused his power and lustfully took what he wanted from a woman and got her pregnant, the battle commander who orchestrated a man’s death to cover up the sexual assault of Bathsheba. We see David at the depths of human depravity. And yet, David is called a man after God’s own heart. Why? This is hard stuff that religious culture usually tries to cover up and twist language and make excuses to explain away David’s choices. But I think making David a hero without looking truthfully at his darker choices sets us up in a dangerous place - we have seen enough corrupt leaders held up as flawless. I think maybe what kept David the hero and king that he was - is his constant willingness to admit his mistakes, live with the consequences of his actions, and turn repeatedly to God in prayer. David wrote Psalm 51 that says
Have mercy on me, O God, because of your unfailing love.
For I recognize my rebellion; it haunts me day and night.
Remove the stain of my guilt.
Create in me a clean heart, O God. Renew a loyal spirit within me.
Do not banish me from your presence, and don’t take your Holy Spirit from me.
Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and make me willing to obey you.
And David also wrote these words in Psalm 139, knowing that his God knew him completely and loved him unconditionally - no matter what was in his past:
Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts.
Point out anything in me that offends you, and lead me along the path of everlasting life.
David was a man that chased after God despite, or maybe because of, his failings and bent to sinning. There is light and dark within us all. We are both image-bearers and dark-dwellers. AND in the arms of God is a safe place to examine both.
God loves us as we are and God loves us enough to not leave us there. As we are willing to name our failure and weakness and also name what is good inside us, God can peel away the layers of our false self. This is transformation - God at work in us and through us. It is evidence of God’s grace and tender love for us.
Love Letters
Do you remember the letters we sent to our crushes as children? the ones that said:
I Like You. Do You Like Me?
Check yes or no.
We even included convenient little boxes for the checkmarks. Please tell me I’m not alone in this. These were some of our earliest love letters.
As we got older and wiser, we graduated to real love letters, pouring out our hearts to the one we love most. And we eagerly anticipated their letters back to us, opening them with trembling fingers and pounding hearts, anxious to hear the voice of one who loves us.
Though most of us don’t, THIS is how we are to come to the Bible - because it is at its most foundational, a love letter from God to each of us personally.
The first communication we learned as infants, connecting through eye contact, verbal and non-verbal cues, helped us bond with our caregivers. It is a language of personal intimacy and relationship. This is same intimate language of prayer. We aren’t completely comfortable with this language as adults though. The things that have happened to us and around us as we’ve grown have taught us to put up defenses to guard our hearts. Vulnerability and risk taking are scary words.
One place we can step back into this intimate vulnerability is the Book of Psalms. Psalms is the Hebrew prayer book, and in it you will find every human emotion you can imagine. The Psalms are full of agonized cries of despair and grief, confessions of sin, demands for revenge, open-hearted praise, and unabashed love and devotion.
Learning to pray is not learning anything new. It is rediscovering our first language. It is the core of who we are. We only need to learn how to excavate it.
We have become proficient through our educational and work lives at reading for information. Remember back in high school and college when we learned to read as little as possible to get the grades we needed? Most of us became pretty good at cramming information into our heads and keeping it there just long enough to regurgitate it back out for a test or essay.
The problem is we have applied this skill to our reading of the Scriptures. We approach the Word of God the same way we do a textbook. This is so very common in Western culture, but we have to learn how to overturn our habit of reading for mastery. When we are in this mode, it is difficult, if not impossible, for us to hear anything new because we have so many unconscious defenses in place.
The deeper longing of our hearts - to hear a word from God that is personal and intimate - requires us to go beyond Bible study. Now hear me - Bible study is absolutely important, but it’s not the only way to encounter scripture. We must learn again to read for intimacy and transformation. This means listening to God relationally, in that first language we learned, rather than trying to learn more about God cognitively.
When we are doing Bible study, it is ok, and even important, to read Scripture asking questions like
What does this say? What does it mean? How do I apply it to my life?
Those questions are cognitive - informational.
Eugene Peterson, in his book Answering God, says that in order to grow in relationship and intimacy with God, we ask different kinds of questions:
How do I feel about this? What resonates? Where do I feel resistant?
Why do I feel this way? What part of my life is being touched by this word? What do all of my reactions tell me about myself? Am I willing and ready to look at it in the presence of God?
Something powerful happens when we are willing to pay attention to what is happening inside us as we read God’s word to us. We turn to wonder and curiosity. We choose to have a conversation with God that touches us in our deepest places and creates transformation.
So today, I want to teach you about a spiritual practice that helps us move from reading scripture for information to reading scripture for transformation. It is called Lectio Divina, and it is a form of holy listening that helps us listen for what God is saying to us right now in this present moment. Lectio Divina is rooted in the belief and understanding that the Scriptures are alive and active and we can engage them for spiritual transformation.
Let’s use Psalm 63:1-8. First I want you to close your eyes and take a couple of deep breaths. Still your mind and slow your breath.
Now I invite you to read the scripture passage slowly, and I want you to listen for a word or phrase that catches your attention - the word or phrase that shimmers - what God illuminates for you.
Psalm 63:1-8
A psalm of David. When he was in the Desert of Judah.
1 You, God, are my God,
earnestly I seek you;
I thirst for you,
my whole being longs for you,
in a dry and parched land
where there is no water.2 I have seen you in the sanctuary
and beheld your power and your glory.3 Because your love is better than life,
my lips will glorify you.4 I will praise you as long as I live,
and in your name I will lift up my hands.5 I will be fully satisfied as with the richest of foods;
with singing lips my mouth will praise you.6 On my bed I remember you;
I think of you through the watches of the night.7 Because you are my help,
I sing in the shadow of your wings.8 I cling to you;
your right hand upholds me.
Now take just a moment of silence and sit with your word. Savor it as a word of God for you in your right-now life.
Now read the passage again, listening for where the word touches you today - where it intersects your life. What part of you needs this word today? Take another moment of silence as you contemplate this.
Finally, read the passage one last time. This time I want you to meditate on how God is inviting you to respond to the word today. Let the scripture lead you to a prayer response. Don’t censor your emotions or thoughts - speak it all freely in the presence of the God who loves you and meets you here today.
In one last moment of silence, hold God’s invitation deep within you and rest in the Spirit’s presence. It is God who will enable your response as you carry your word with you into today. As you meditate on it throughout the day, allow the word to live within you. End your Lectio Divina with a time of gratitude to God for meeting you in this way.
As you read the Bible at home, when you want to practice Lectio Divina, here are some simple instructions. Choose a short passage - 6-8 verses. Read the passage through 3 times, looking for the 3 “i” words we talked about:
illumination - what word or phrase captures your heart?intersection - where does the word connect with you right now?invitation - how is God inviting you to respond?
Make sure you take time to sit in silence as you go through this process. You are reading a love letter after all!
This practice has changed the way I encounter the scriptures. I’ve always been a book nerd and a studious good girl. I like right answers and essay questions where I can show off all I know. But Lectio Divina has taught me to slow down and dwell deeply on the words in scripture. God meets me there, and I am being transformed.
Silence and Solitude
I remember when my babies were tiny humans - they so often fought sleep. They ran around like crazy or screamed at the top of their lungs to keep themselves awake. We would rock and sway and sing and finally, they would get still and quiet, — and the second they realized it, they’d start wiggling again. It drove me nuts sometimes - especially when I was so tired that I could have slept with them.
When we were kids, naps and early bedtimes were the worst. It felt like punishment to be sent to bed. I personally didn’t want to miss anything. Now I want to be sent to bed early! Please, punish me!! Sleep feels like a reward at the end of a long day.
But it is harder when I need to truly rest (& not just sleep.) Somehow I feel like I can’t afford to stop and give my body the rest it needs. The world might cave in if I am not on top of things 24/7. Truthfully, I have pushed myself so hard in the past that my body started to give out in ways I didn’t understand. I started getting sick often & having chronic pain. My mind and soul felt so weary that I didn’t know how I could keep going.
At that point, I didn’t have a choice to do anything else - I had to learn to rest to allow my body and mind and soul to restore and heal.
God created us for a rhythm and we need to learn how to dance within it.
In the end of Mark chapter 6, the disciples have just come back together. Earlier in chapter 6, Jesus commissioned them and gave them the authority to cast out demons, preach the gospel, and heal the sick. These were exciting times and they were also full of spiritual exertion and emotional complexity.
But they have also just lost John the Baptist in a devastating and traumatic way. Now these same disciples who had been flush-faced with ministry success had to go and bring back John’s broken and beheaded body and bury it. Can you imagine the emotional toll that it took to care for the body of the man who had proclaimed the gospel so powerfully? In the middle of exhilarating ministry and deep personal grief, we find our band of disciples crowding around Jesus. They are sharing all they had seen and done and taught, and Mark tells us there are others there too, so many and so needy that the disciples and Jesus don’t even have time to eat. Jesus intervenes by inviting the disciples to join him in a quiet retreat so they can rest awhile.
Jesus and the disciples hop in a boat to sail away to that lonely quiet retreat. But the rest they seek is not happening. The crowds saw Jesus and the twelve going away. It was about four miles across from where Jesus and his friends set sail. It was 10 miles round the top of the lake on foot. If the wind was uncooperative, a person (or crowd of people) walking quickly could be there before the boat even arrived. That is precisely what happened, so that when the boat landed on shore, the crowd they were trying to escape was waiting on them.
Now, I’ll be honest: I would be annoyed. I am an introvert and when I get overwhelmed and don’t get the rest I need, I can be cranky. But Mark tells us that Jesus felt compassion for them, seeing them as sheep without a shepherd. And so Jesus taught them. Late that afternoon, the disciples, who hadn’t had their naps yet, were getting cranky themselves. They saw the issue coming - the Taco Bell was closed and the crowds had not had dinner yet. So they urge Jesus to send them home. And Jesus tells the cranky disciples - you feed them. And what happens next is the miracle that we often call the feeding of the 5000. That was 5000 men, by the way. Women and children weren’t counted, so we can be sure this crowd was much larger than even 5000.
After the hunger had been satisfied and the leftovers had been put away, Jesus went ahead and sent the disciples away by boat. The rest they so desperately needed was still top of Jesus mind. So Jesus dismissed the crowds and went alone to pray before joining the disciples on the lake (literally walking across the water to meet them by the way.)
I’m not sure if you’ve noticed or not, but the gospels tell us that Jesus often goes away to be alone and pray. During busy times, during times of ministry intensity, during his own personal times of grief, Jesus goes away - often into nature - to pray and be alone with God.
What do you think is behind Jesus’ insistence and intentionality behind leading his disciples to rest? I think Jesus knows how fragile our bodies are, and how even our most well-intentioned, passionate work can drain us and burden us when we don’t take time for rest.
Jesus understands and seeks to guide his disciples, and us, into a rhythm of solitude, community, and ministry and then solitude again. So, what do we do with all of that solitude and silence, and why does it matter?
The Bible is full of admonitions to rest in God.
Psalm 62:5 says, “Find rest, O my soul, in God alone, for my hope is from God”
Habakkuk 2:20 says, “But the Lord is in his holy temple; let all the earth be silent before him.”
Psalm 46:10 says, “ Be still and know that I am God.”
In Exodus 14, when the Israelites are quite literally caught between the Egyptian army and the Red Sea, Moses responds to them, “Don’t be afraid. Just stand still and watch the Lord rescue you today. The Egyptians you see today will never be seen again. The Lord himself will fight for you. Just stay calm.”
And when Elijah is overwhelmed and emotionally and spiritually exhausted after his showdown with the prophets of Baal, he flees to the desert and God meets him and nourishes him with food and water while he rests there. He experiences God in a still small voice - a gentle whisper.
It is when we quiet the noise around and within us that we can hear the still, small voice of God.
Breath prayers are short, simple, one-sentence prayers that lead us into solitude and silence and are said to the rhythm of our breath. They remind us that each breath is given to us by a God who loves us and is nearer to us than our own breath.
Many people use the cry we heard from Bartimaeus last week in a breath prayer. “Son of God, have mercy on me.” Breathe in deeply and say in your mind “Son of God” and as you breath out, silently say “have mercy on me.”
Breathe in Son of God - breathe out have mercy on me.
It’s also easy create your own breath prayer. Choose the name of God that you need most in this moment. Perhaps it is Father or Mother, Jesus or Spirit or Abba (Daddy) or Healer, Creator or God-my-Wisdom. Choose whatever name of God feels most connected for you, and say it to yourself as you inhale. Then as you exhale, tell God what you need or want in this moment. Hold me Close. Or Heal my loved one. Or Give me strength. Just like we did last week, speak your longing face to face with the One Who Loves You. Repeat this naming/calling God on your in-breath and stating your longing on the out-breath. This is how to personally “pray without ceasing” all day long. An intimate reminder that God is as close and present to you as your own breath.
When I sit in solitude and silence - when I use my breath to connect to God, God restores my heart, re-centers my scattered mind, and nourishes my soul. I can go back into my world and interact from a place of fullness and union rather than from a place of lack and need.
Finding a rhythm of silence and solitude is a rebellious response to our cultural quest for more and bigger and busier. This has been such a life-giving, restorative practice for me. I encourage you to intentionally look for cracks of silence and stillness this week. Call on God and speak your longing in Your Creator’s presence, and hear God speak to you there.
Love and Grace, my friends,
Renae
What Do You Want?
Did you ever mail a letter to Santa or write a birthday wish list? As a child, it seemed so easy - and even fun -to ask for what we most wanted. Somewhere along the way though, naming our desires became more complicated. If I asked you today, “what do you want?” What would your answer be?
What if I asked you what your deepest longing is - would that answer be different? Our longings seem even more nuanced and intangible and difficult to name than our wants somehow. And yet, Jesus had an uncanny habit of asking this very question of the people around him.
I was studying the story of blind Bartimaeus for my sermon this past week. What I learned was beautiful. Let me share the story with you.
Bartimaeus was sitting, begging actually, by the roadside when a crowd of people came tramping past him.
Amid the noise and chaos of the crowds, Bartimaeus heard that it was Jesus who was traveling by. Perhaps he had heard stories from people passing through Jericho of a rabbi who was unlike any other - one who came close to the broken and the sinner - one who cared for the poor and needy. He may have even heard rumors that Jesus had healed another blind man on the other side of Jericho.
Blind Bartimaeus heard and something stirred in him - a wild abandon that he couldn’t suppress. His was not a vague wish - his was a desperate desire for the person who could meet his deepest need.
And so with no thought of what anyone would think, Bartimaeus began to shout: “Jesus, Son of David, show me mercy!”
And the crowd was embarrassed and annoyed by him, and perhaps even embarrassed for this dirty beggar hanging around the side of the road - this beggar who seemed less than human and who had no right to demand attention, especially from a rabbi as important as Jesus. They shushed him and reminded him of his place.
But this was maybe his only chance to escape his darkness and the crowd’s shushes only made Bartimaeus yell louder: “Jesus, Son of David, show me mercy!”
His loud and persistent cry to be heard caused such a scene that the procession stopped. Jesus called for Bartimaeus to be brought to him, and the crowd, more gently now, told him to be encouraged because Jesus wanted to see him.
Bartimaeus does not waste any time. He leaps up, throws off his cloak and leaves it behind. Throwing off his cloak is significant. This cloak is the most valuable thing he owned - his only source of shelter and warmth. It is the closest tie to any hope of survival. Because law abiding Jews wouldn’t touch him, he would have spread his cloak on the ground in front of him to collect the coins that were tossed to him. When Bartimaeus throws aside the cloak and leaves it behind, it meant that he was choosing to trust Jesus to give him a better future.
And then Jesus does a curious thing. His response is what is so startling and beautiful to me. He asks Bartimaeus, “What do you want me to do for you?”
I wonder of some of the people nearby think to themselves, “What a silly question! Of course, he wants…” what? To not have to beg? To be reunited with a family who could take care of him?
But Bartimaeus knows exactly what he wants - “Teacher, I want to see.”
And Jesus simply says, “Go, your faith has healed you.”
Your faith has healed you.
At once he was able to see, and he began to follow Jesus on the way. Bartimaeus joins the crowd walking with and listening to Jesus, and he follows him into the city. He may have been a beggar by the roadside, but now he is a man of faith and gratitude and loyalty - a man who named his deepest desire before Jesus and received healing.
When was the last time you felt your deepest longing? I confess I am often hesitant to look at my own longing. It feels vulnerable and scary. I have been told too many times by society, by religion, and by my own inner critic that my desires are bad or selfish or a Pandora’s box full of evils that will explode if I open it.
But if Jesus asked the question, then what we want - what we truly long for - must matter.
I believe Jesus asked the question “what do you want me to do for you?” to help us see and own our longing for God. Our longing for love, for growth and transformation, is the truest thing about us.
The stirring of spiritual desire shows us that God’s Spirit is already working in us. It is part of God’s prevenient grace. It is evidence that God’s steadfast love and creation goodness are pursuing us.
So lately, I’ve been practicing naming what I want & what I long for in the presence of Jesus. When was the last time you felt a longing for a deeper intimacy with God - to be transformed and healed by God’s love? Don’t rush past this. It may be the most important question you ask yourself.
Drinking from a Firehose
Are you old enough to remember drinking out of a garden hose while you were out playing in your neighborhood? There were actual houses where you could go to get KoolAid, that fluorescent-colored, sugar-laden drink made from powder and water and kept in every kid-occupied home. But sometimes, going inside was just too much trouble, and you would go to the side of the house where you were playing and turn on the water spigot and wait for the water to come pouring out of the garden hose. What came out was cold and thirst quenching without having to ask someone’s mom for help. It was also, however, high pressure if you (or your mischievous playmate or sibling) turned it on too high, and water would go up your nose and splash your entire face and make you sputter and cough.
Now of course, my kids are going to think this story is hilarious because they’ve never been told to go out and play with your friends - and don’t come home till supper-time. Drinking out of a hose is a ridiculous concept if you were born after a certain point in time - when society as a whole decided that running around the neighborhood without someone knowing where you were at all times and sitting in the backseat of a car with no seatbelt on were dangerous activities.
I was not born after that time, however. I have been half drowned by a garden hose. And lately I have felt like I was drinking from not merely a garden hose, but a fire hose.
I’ve been writing weekly sermons and crafting worship, doing pastoral care and pastoral administration. I’ve been working my Metagem training and intensives and crafting and carrying out a final spiritual direction project (which I am really excited about - spiritual direction for the underserved community of clergy spouses). I have work to do for candidacy in the UMC. And I have mail and paperwork at home that is in an absurdly large pile.
Now most of this is stuff I’ve chosen and that I am passionate about and deeply grateful for (except that absurdly large pile of business at home.) But it is a lot, and I am often feeling a bit overwhelmed. I am working to maintain self-care and healthy boundaries, while I am still dealing with some pain issues and procedures, and while I am still a single mom.
So I’m getting real here today, my friends. I love this blog, and I have put so much of myself and my energy into this space. I love sharing with you and hearing from you. But I am praying about how I can shift this space for a time while I am in this early season of pastoring and candidacy. I may be sharing some from my sermons. I may have some guest posts more frequently. And I may take a week off here and there. I am still figuring it all out. Will you pray with me as I learn how to leverage my work and maintain healthy boundaries and self care while being my best self in all that I do?