One More Antidote for Anxiety

(Continuation on reflections from Psalm 37:1-11. The first two posts are here and here.)

As we’ve heard David’s exhortation to “fret not” and pondered his advice for avoiding anxiety, I’ve saved the best (IMHO) for last! It’s this…

Be still before the Lord. Wait patiently for him.

To meditate on God’s word, contemplating what it means to me in my particular circumstances, requires that I sit still and quiet before God, waiting patiently for him to reveal to me more of himself. That’s not at all easy in the fast-paced world in which we live. We are continually encouraged to do more and do it faster, to fill up every minute of every day with something that the world considers productive. There are several problems with that, not the least of which is that what is productive in the world’s eyes is often in direct opposition to God’s plan and purpose! God deeply desires our love and our attention. The enemy of our souls provides plenty of distractions, cultural busyness and the demand for productivity topping the list.

This past year has brought home the truth that being still before the Lord and waiting patiently for him is non-negotiable in my life, and I would daresay in the life of anyone who wants to follow Christ. I have lived the past four years going from one demanding season to another, juggling it all with as much grace as I could muster. However, at the end of last year, all the demands had been met and suddenly I was left with little to juggle! After four years of being driven and stressed with little time to process what I was experiencing, I found myself frustrated and worn out, even while my soul was incessantly restless. That’s when I discovered this great treasure in Psalm 37:7.

My habit for the past couple of decades has been to spend time with the Lord each morning. However, this time was not necessarily spent sitting quietly and waiting patiently. It was more often spent fulfilling the obligatory Bible reading so that I could check the box on my reading plan, while rehearsing the day’s agenda in the background of my mind and asking God to bless it. There wasn’t much time for listening…mostly it was knowledge acquisition and petitioning. So the truth of verse 7 required some life-changing choices.

For me, this has looked like changing how I live out each day…simpler. Not simpler as in doing less, but simpler as in doing what has meaning and purpose to me, and doing it at a reasonable pace.

  • My day still begins with morning prayer, but I now use a guide that offers a few verses of scripture, rather than chapters. I wait patiently for the Holy Spirit to illumine a few words and then sit with them–and Him–in the quiet.
  • I limit how many appointments I schedule in a day rather than filling every available hour, which leaves space for God to speak into my day as it unfolds.
  • I spend all the time I can outdoors, where I most easily experience God through contemplating his glory and imagination revealed through his creation.
  • I planted a vegetable garden this year—not because it’s the cool thing to do or because I want to make some sort of statement about organic food. I did it because I wanted to see what it would be like to sow seed and wait for God to grow it into something we can eat!
  • I bought a good camera and took a class in basic photography. It is much more challenging than snapping pictures with my phone! But it encourages me to literally see the world through a different lens.

I pray more than I ever have before. Not a to-do-list- for-God kind of praying, but an ongoing conversation about how good he is and how much more I want to know him so that I can love him more fully.

Am I fret-free? Of course not! I still have moments of anxiety. But when I’m tempted to fret, I find it helpful to consider David’s advice, to focus on

  • trusting in the Lord and doing good,
  • delighting in the Lord as I commit my way to him,
  • and being still before the Lord as I wait patiently for him.

Charles Spurgeon once said that faith cures fretting. What changes do you need to make in your everyday life to build a faith that becomes your antidote for anxiety?

 

Beyond Words

While on a road trip last week I listened to a few podcasts by Ruth Haley Barton from her Strengthening the Soul of Your Leadership series. In one of them she talked about communing with God, as opposed to communicating with God. It’s easy to settle for communicating with God–pouring out my heart, submitting my list of requests, and then moving on with my life without waiting for or being attentive to God’s response.  What might it look like to really commune with God…?

Then the man and his wife heard the sound of the Lord God as he was walking in the garden in the cool of the day…     -Genesis 3:8

Can you imagine walking in the garden with God in the cool of the day?

A few years ago as I was “communicating” with God, I asked him to help me learn to listen. I knew well my tendency during a conversation to be thinking about what I wanted to say rather than truly listening to what the other person was sharing. It’s rude and dismissive, shutting down the opportunity for vulnerability and meaningful conversation. My communication with God was not much different. I was convicted of my need to change, but also of my powerlessness to do it without some divine intervention! So I asked for help…then went on with my life…which happened to include becoming a spiritual director. Much of the coursework for spiritual direction revolves around listening, so for two years I read book after book and had plenty of opportunities to practice active listening. Real change, however, felt pretty elusive.

But as I’ve reflected on that podcast differentiating between communing and communication, I realize that I more often commune with God these days than ever before. It comes at the strangest times…

  • as I watch the critters in our back yard–a chipmunk, squirrels, and a bevy of birds–all gathered together on and under the birdfeeders to gather nuts and seeds
  • as I meander down to the garden to harvest peas or lettuce and am surprised to see another plant has burst its pod and pushed its way up through the dirt, opening itself to the sun
  • as I sit in my prayer garden in the early morning quiet and simply listen to the sounds around me–all sorts of birdsong, the splashing of a robin taking her bath, squirrels rustling in the bushes, the buzz of bees as they pollinate my flowers
  • as I marvel at the fireflies that light up the back yard as the sun goes down, to the accompaniment of a mourning dove’s soft coo

…and my heart feels so full of wonder that the God of the universe has created such beauty, and has given me eyes to see and ears to hear. And suddenly I’m intensely aware of his gentle, loving presence all around me and rising up within me all at the same time. That’s the moment when I know I’ve finally found my way from communication to communion, from talking at God to intimacy with God…when Love is so powerful that words are no longer necessary.

My prayer for you today is that you will slow down and create time and space to set aside communication in favor of communion with our Creator God, and in so doing you would know the intimacy of that Love which is deeper than words.

 

The Battle on Two Fronts

My husband and I went out for breakfast this morning to celebrate his birthday. As our slow_down_sign_reed_college_portland_oregon_2013conversation drifted to his recent retirement and the changes we are experiencing, he commented on how nice it is to be able to enjoy a leisurely breakfast on a weekday morning, having nothing he has to rush to do. As I thought about his comment, I became increasingly aware of my own state of being. I was revving up. We had finished our meal, and I was physically preparing to rush on to the next thing. Except, there wasn’t a “next thing.”

It seems to me that my body is hard-wired to rush. It’s not that I have a lot of nervous energy…I’m not a leg-jiggler or a foot-tapper. I don’t drum my fingers. I’m not even particularly energetic. But my body is always poised to move on to whatever is next on the to-do list.

As a wife and mother,  a homemaker, a businesswoman-turned-pastor, I have been busy the majority of my life. I learned early on that time management was essential to successfully juggling my varied roles and responsibilities. My days were for the most part carefully planned to maximize every minute so as to accomplish not only what I needed to get done, but also have time for what I wanted to do. It was not uncommon for me to pack more into a day than was feasible to do. I’ve conditioned myself to be productive, and to be productive requires being on the move.

My life has changed significantly in the last six months. I quit my marketplace job to spend more time in ministry. After two years of providing care for my mother, she suffered a stroke and died. Subsequent weeks were spent tying up the loose ends of her affairs. Then my husband retired, and the holidays were upon us. With the whirlwind of activity behind us, we are settling into a new routine, a slower pace. Time to relax over a leisurely meal, or go to a movie in the middle of the day. The problem is that my body doesn’t know how to do that. I feel as though I’m fighting a battle to make myself slow down. That’s the battle on the physical front.

But the battle is also being fought on another front, a spiritual front. All this busyness I’ve prided myself on over the years has also conditioned my spiritual self to stay on the move. I devoured books, yet couldn’t really tell you what I’d read. I would have a revelation from scripture, but wouldn’t remember it days later. Rather than take the time to process what I read and perceived, I was rushing ahead to the next spiritual thought or epiphany. Now I am learning how to sit quietly and listen–really listen–for the promptings of the Holy Spirit. Solitude is becoming something I desire regularly.

Equally important, I am learning to be still and truly listen to others. Just as I rushed physically from one thing to the next, I also rushed conversations. The temptation to think about how I wanted to respond or simply being impatient to move on to another topic meant that I often didn’t give attention to the other person’s words, much less to what might be hiding behind them.

I’m learning that it’s impossible to be attentive to the present moment when the body and the spirit are persistently rushing on to the next thing on the to-do list or on to the next thought. This business of slowing down is hard though! The battle against pushing forward, refusing to idolize both physical and spiritual busyness, is intense.

The lesson that needs to settle deep in my spirit is this: What’s next is not guaranteed. Only this moment is real. To rush past it is to lose the battle and forfeit the opportunity to experience God in the here and now. And so each evening I thank God for all the blessings of the day, the ones I caught and the ones I missed, asking him to reveal those overlooked blessings so that I may be consciously grateful for them, too. My prayer is that this tool–this examen at the end of the day–will help me win the battle of being fully present on both fronts, physically and spiritually. Amen and amen.

 

The power of growth

“Never forget, growth changes everything.”

That’s the statement that launches chapter four of Larry Osborne’s book, Sticky Teams. While he is referring to numerical growth and the challenges it presents, I think the same statement applies equally to spiritual growth.

I’m convinced that the act of serving plays a vital role in spiritual growth. I often say that we actually stunt our spiritual formation when we choose not to serve. Stepping out of our comfortable structures and patterns of living in order to meet the needs of another can be a powerful catalyst for spiritual growth. Case in point…

Six years ago I stepped way out of my comfort zone and went on a mission trip to China. It entailed a lot of “firsts:” my first mission trip, my first time to leave North America, my first transoceanic flight, the first time in a country where I couldn’t speak the language. As I got in the customs line at the Beijing airport, I realized that I was standing under the sign that read “foreigner.” I hadn’t made a mistake; I did belong in that line. It shocked me–another first of many that I would encounter during the next two weeks. But I saw God in faces and in places I would never have dreamed… and I was forever changed by the experience.

I returned home and spent the next six months struggling to shrink back into what had been the comfortable pattern of my existence. I could not do it. It seemed the world I live in had suddenly expanded exponentially, as had the God I love and serve. But, in all actuality, neither had grown a bit. It was me who had grown. And that growth changed everything.

Prior to my trip to China, I was quite content with ministry inside the walls of my church. After returning, I could no longer settle for that. Now I’m committed to helping ministry leaders develop systems and processes that encourage spiritual formation, equipping the saints of God to do the ministry of God outside the church walls as well as within. I’ve seen the incredible power of God when I stop clinging to the comfortably familiar.

Do you encounter team members who are resistant to change, afraid it will disrupt the security of their status quo? Do you notice those you lead stifling a yawn or two when you talk about ministry? Has their ministry gotten stale? (Has yours?)

It’s time to coax the yawners and resisters out of their cozy comfort zone! It’s time to lead them to experience a bigger world and a bigger God than the one to which they’ve grown too accustomed.

You don’t have to go to China. Just go to a homeless shelter, a federal housing project, a food pantry… not just for an hour or two one day, but for several weeks running.

Give them time and opportunity to see God in faces and places they would never dream.

And then, get ready…  Remember, growth changes everything!