Just Beneath the Surface

One of the great blessings of our life here in So Cal is a small group that we are part of through our church. Every Sunday a group of 8 of us (four couples) meet together to study the Bible, pray together, and just enjoy a sense of community with one another.  For the past month, we have decided to use our time together to share our stories. Each week, two people have 45 minutes to share the major events of their life stories, and it's been absolutely amazing to hear. 

Our group has been meeting for over a year now, so there is enough trust in place for us to be able to share some of the deeper issues of our hearts with one another. It has truly been a privilege to hear what how the past has shaped each one of us. Every week after small group is over, Hubs and I comment to each other how hearing someone's story gives such a broader context to understanding who they have become. 

Tonight, we heard the last two of the eight of us share. And the thing that has struck me the most is how each one of us has so much going on just below the surface. I'm talking about major, life-shaping things that have taken place over the course of our lives that have had a deep emotional impact on who we are. Both joyful and painful things that have formed us into the people that we are. And if that is true of the eight of us, it is true of each of us walking around on God's green earth.

So much bubbling around just beneath the surface that we rarely let others see.

I feel so privileged to have been allowed to see what's lurking underneath the wrapping paper of these dear souls in our small group, and I'm grateful to have seven people in my life that are trustworthy enough to peer into the inner-workings of my heart, and continue to love, encourage, support and pray for me.

A rose by any other name might smell as sweet, but it would lack a certain pizazz!

On Saturday morning, I walked down the road from the retreat house where we were staying to the beautiful public rose garden across from the famous mission in Santa Barbara. It was a loverly, warm day, and I couldn't resist snapping away with our camera. The roses in this garden are just gorgeous! 

 

As I was moseying through the garden, I was so tickled by the wonderful names people have given to these flowers. It reminded me of the Garden of Eden when God invited Adam (Eve hadn't been created yet) to name the animals. 

Two books I've been reading lately (Walking on Water by Madeleine L'Engel and To Own a Dragon by Donald Miller) have both talked about the power of naming and being named. I think it is a wonderful honor that even today, we get to join with Adam in naming our children, our spouses (terms of endearment), our friends (nicknames), and even flowers! My maternal grandfather raised and developed different varieties of hibiscus, and even named two of his created varieties after my sister and me.

Enjoy the beauty and the names of these Santa Barbara roses. (Note: The roses pictured below do not necessarily correspond with the pictured names.) 

Getting Comfortable with Peace

There is a little chapel on the grounds of the retreat center where four services are held each day:

Matins (the morning service to greet God in the new day), Mass (a service at noontime where they “celebrate the Eucarist”, aka "The Lord’s Supper" or "Communion"), Vespers (a service just before dinner to meet with God at evening), and Compline (a service to close the day with Him).

When I made arrangements to come on this retreat, I didn’t think I would attend many (if any) of these chapel services. They are optional for those here on retreat, and frankly, I thought I might find them boring. Interestingly, though, I have attended all of them, so far! They are not boring at all, but quite meaningful.

This surprised me because I was raised in the Episcopal church until I was 16 years old, and I generally found the order of the Episcopal church service very boring and ritualistic. It seemed that in the liturgy of the service, all of the meaning leaked out. I found it devoid of true passion for God, and an unnatural way to worship Him.

However, this retreat has changed my view. The services are only a half hour or less, so they don’t seem overly long to me. The responsive readings of the Psalms and of the liturgy now appeal to the actress in me. I no longer see them as just words on a page, but as words of life to speak to one another, ripe with meaning and even love.

Part of the Mass included “The Prayers of the People”, which is a chance to pray for different people in the world and in your life—from government leaders to your own family members. They came to the part when you can offer prayers for the sick. During this part of the prayer, you can say out loud the names of people who are ill and need healing. “My Dad,” I said out loud, tears filling my eyes.

Soon the prayer was ended with an “Amen,” and the priest said, “The peace of the Lord be always with you,” to which we all responded, “And also with you.” Then came the part that I often dreaded growing up. That uncomfortable part where you have to turn to the strangers around you and “exchange the peace”, which means shaking their hands and saying “Peace be with you.” Today, though, I just felt so full of gratitude for having a place to pray for my Dad. A place to lay down my burdens. A place to remember the Lord Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross by taking Communion. I turned to those around me and realized that I only needed to give that uncomfortable feeling a small nudge to get out of the way. Then we hugged each other with heartfelt gratitude for each other’s sheer presence, and mostly for the presence of God. Our very own Prince of Peace.

Julie Andrews would appreciate this...

Hubs and I are on a weekend retreat.  We’re staying at an Episcopalian retreat house in Santa Barbara, which is run by an spunky nun.  After a simple yet tasty dinner, the Sister led about six of us in a Compline service, which is sort of a service to say goodbye to the day with God before heading off to bed.

At one point, it was time to sing a hymn. Since there was no organ player there, the sister stuck some kind of a key into the organ and it started playing the hymn.  Oh my stars!  It’s like a player piano, only an organ!  The hymn sounded like a lullabye, which is appropriate for a Compline service. As we sang the last verse, which was asking God to grant us a peaceful night’s sleep—I kid you not—Hubs let out a nice big yawn! It wasn’t loud or anything.  It was just a totally organic peaceful yawn. I don’t even think he was aware of it.  It just tickled me so! It reminded me of the scene in Mary Poppins where she is singing “Stay Awake” to the kids and they start relaxing and then yawning before falling into restful slumber.

Sweet dreams, sweetie pie!

Leapin' for Love

Happy Leap Day, y'all!

I didn't even have to look outside to know that the weather had turned from sunny to overcast because as soon as I opened my eyes, my sinuses told me so...headache!  It seems like the only thing that can knock those headaches gone is a good meal and some serious caffeine.  So to celebrate Leap Day, I took myself out for a wonderful breakfast at IHOP.  Ain't nothin' like Harvest Grain 'n' Nut Pancakes, eggs and BACON(!!!) with steaming hot coffee!

That being said, my day has only gotten better and better.

Since I was dining alone, I took a wonderful journal with me called "Conversations" to breakfast. Hubs had recommended an article in it called The Arts as a Means of Grace. Wow! It really hit home.  It was an interview with poet Luci Shaw, and nearly every syllable she uttered was loaded with meaning for me.  I only discovered her poetry recently, and so far every poem I've read has moved me!  One of them in particular called "The Omnipresence" left my heart flowing over with love for God:

The Omnipresence

Reminders flicker at us from

odd angles, nor will he be ignored;

we sight him in unlikely places,

oaths and dates and empty tombs.

God. His print is everywhere,

stamped on the macro- and the microcosm.

Feathers, shells, stars, cells speak 

his diversity.  The multiplicity of

leaf and light says God. Wind,

sensed but unseen, breathes the old

metaphor again. Seasons are his

signature. The double helix

spells his spiral name.

Faith summons him, and doubt 

blows only the sheerest skein

of mist across his face.

Luci Shaw, 1990

As love is what this poem evoked in me, I have been lingering on love since then.  It occured to me that Leap Day is one more day this year to tell those I love, "I love you".

God, I love You! Thank You that I cannot and will never escape Your Omnipresence.

Hubs, I love you. You reflect God's love to me everyday. Thank you for being a tangible reflection of His love and grace to me. I'm learning so much about Him because of you.

Mom, Dad, and Jilly, I love you so much.  I'm looking forward to being with you during the next week.  

Ad, I love you!  Thaggs for beig by bes frenny!  (I hab a cold.)  :)

Friends and blog buddies, I love you.  You are a warm and cozy community, and I'm so grateful for the friendship and support I find with you.  Jelly Jules, if you are reading this, please know that I am especially grateful that today is one more day you get to spend with your dear mom, Maya's Granny!  I'm so glad she's doing better. 

Operation: Imputation

im.pute  [im-pyoot]

-verb

1. to attribute or ascribe:  The children imputed magical powers to the old woman.

2. Theology. to attribute (righteousness, guilt, etc.) to a person or persons vicariously; ascribe as derived from another.

Last night, I attended one of a series of lectures on spiritual formation. The speaker, Dr. John Coe, taught about what happened, spiritually speaking, on the cross--imputation.   When Jesus died on the cross, all of the sins of humankind were imputed to Him, making us completely forgiven.  At the same time, Jesus' righteousness was imputed to us, making us completely acceptable to God.

Completely forgiven by God.  Completely accepted by God.  What joy!  

As we journey with God through this life, there will be times when we are called to take a good look at the state of our hearts.  It may be scary because of the darkness and sin that we still struggle with as fallen human beings.  Even so, we can journey there with our Loving God and allow Him to transform us in our deepest parts.  He sees it all anyway, but the reality of His forgiveness and acceptance of us makes Him a trustworthy God with whom we can face our deepest struggles with sin.

Dr. Coe commented that it can be so hard for us to really understand the depth and completeness of God's forgiveness and acceptance because it is rare to experience that kind of love in our human relationships.  He ended the lecture with a challenge to pray Psalm 139:23-24:

Search me , O God, and know my heart;

test me and know my anxious thoughts.

See if there is any offensive way in me,

and lead me in the way everlasting.

I find myself more able to express such a prayer to God in light of His complete forgiveness and acceptance of me.