Wednesday, April 06, 2011

Letting Go - Taking Hold

by: Mary Hagle


"What is the basis of our security? When we start thinking about that question, we may give many answers: success, money, friends, property, popularity, family, connections, insurance, and so on. We may not always think that any of these forms the basis of our security, but our actions or feelings may tell us otherwise. When we start losing our money, our friends, or our popularity, our anxiety often reveals how deeply our sense of security is rooted in these things. A spiritual life is a life in which our security is based not in any created things, good as they may be, but in God, who is everlasting love. We probably will never be completely free from our attachment to the temporal world, but if we want to live in that world in a truly free way, we'd better not belong to it. "You cannot be the slave both of God and of money" (Luke 16:13)." Henri Nouwen


To one degree or another, I think Henri Nouwen is right; we probably will never be completely free from these things as long as we’re here on earth. I could feel their "tug" as I thought about losing money, friends and family. It felt cold and lonely instantly. It was like the thermostat of my contentment just "went to zero in 15 seconds". Not that I don’t ever rely on God, because I do, and try to, always, but, if I’m honest, financial security, friends and family are very important to me. What a great wake-up call! Reading the list is a quick way to gauge just how attached I am.


What can we do about it? We’ll be asking several of you to respond to that question. A few things come to mind:


1. Stay in conversation with our sweet Lord, and repeatedly confirm to Him (and to ourselves) that in spite of the pull of all these things to "keep our hearts and minds captive," we want to be captivated by Him and His heart.


2. Develop a healthy relationship with money. Do the work from Financial Peace University. Read The Gift by Lewis Hyde. "I am not concerned with gifts given in spite or fear, nor those gifts we accept out of servility or obligation; my concern is the gift we long for, the gift that, when it comes, speaks commandingly to the soul and irresistibly moves us." Ask God to show you your heart condition about money. Give to help others. Be generous and joyful at the same time (quite a good learning exercise!)


3. Express love and gratitude to your friends and family for how important they are to you, and especially make the connection with them to how God’s love for all of you deepens and enriches those relationships for you. That may be a part of loving and being loved by friends and family that we take for granted and think "everybody knows that", but it’s important to say it. And, maybe some of them don’t know that. They need to. You need to.


4. Set a date on your monthly calendar to stop and think about this. It could only take a minute or two, or an hour, depending on your journey and life’s circumstances, but if you make a habit of checking in with yourself about it on the same day every month, it could be very informative. Do the tough exercise of contemplating how content you feel when you think about being without success, money, friends, property, popularity, family, connections or insurance.


So, thank God for Henri and his inquisitive heart, and for the loving One who created it.


We grow as we share . . .

Lentimonies from April 2/3


As we thought about our Basis of Security question, the Lenten stories told during the Celebration Service seemed an appropriate response to the question "What can I do to rely on God more?" These stories came as we shared what we were letting go of, and what God was putting in to us.


Becky Cox: "I have given up all reading except the Bible for my Lent experience. I found my days so busy, I decided to get up early, which is unusual for me, to spend more time alone with God, and it has been really good for me. I am reading, praying, journaling and being honest with God about my fears and giving up control. I have found myself contemplating, "What does God want for my life?" more than ever before."


Steve Jones: "I gave up alcohol, and found I don’t miss it at all. Two things have changed; one physical and one spiritual: I am sleeping so much better, so much more soundly. Working out at the gym and working on weight loss, I think about those empty alcohol calories I’m not consuming. More importantly, the biggest change is that I was excited to see what God would put in its place, as Caleb had suggested when he heard we were "doing" Lent. I have spent more time in prayer and Bible study, and am aware of more of His Presence with me, at work, play and home. I have really noticed the Holy Spirit being with me twenty-four hours a day. It is a great experience."


Michelle Stumbo: "I have given up sleeping in, desserts and candy. It’s been a challenge, but different from past experiences, I think because of the deep changes that have come from fourteen months of accountability in the counseling we have been receiving. I have made it a habit to start my day with the Lord, and my children are watching and mimicking this.


When I think about desserts and candy, often, and how long Lent lasts, I thought about what was driving those thoughts, and how God would fill me up instead."


Matt Milligan: "I gave up snacking after dinner. Shelley has told me she can hear my tummy growling after we’re in bed for the night. I have experienced going to the fridge, taking out a pop, looking at it, and putting it back, many times. This process has begun to remind me to pray for my sister overseas, and her mission, and the people she is ministering to. Some of them go hungry often, many times with only two meals a day."


June Hoover: "I decided to get rid of some of my excess . . . my closets, drawers, shelves. I gathered a big bag of clothes from my closet. That was easy. Some of them still had the tags on them. The hard part came as I went into stores: "I wanna buy something." Having to say "No" to myself was hard. I was reminded about Matthew where Jesus said not to store up treasures here on earth, and where he said not to worry, but think about the lily, and how beautiful it is, and it doesn’t worry about the future. Also, the part that says God wants to give us good gifts.


It’s getting easier to say, "It’s NOT a buying day." The desire is not as strong. The lesson really came home for me when I thought about watching my daughter graduating from college in a month, seeing her less, and having to "give up stuff" about our relationship, and I’m learning how to give up my expectations and desires, and wait to see what God has to give me instead."


Val Squires: 'I gave up ‘noise in the car’. Silence in the car means I’m praying, singing to God, and listening to the Holy Spirit instead of the radio or CD’s. Practicing Mindful Silence has been phenomenal; it impacts everything, especially the peace I feel in the silence. I find myself much more aware of His Presence throughout my day, not just in morning or evening "devotional" time. The Holy Spirit gives me clear instruction, wisdom and revelation. With gratitude and relief I am able to leave stuff at the Cross. The Mindful Silence has given me a thirst to want God more throughout my day. I am finding small pockets of time where I can silence my mind and body, and God meets me there."


 

Struggling With Definition


By: Josh Droke


I believe that struggling with security is essentially struggling with definition. Not struggling with how to define security, but rather with how our security defines us. We struggle with letting go of something, struggle with the thought of being without it, because it defines part of who we are.


Take TV, for instance. Television isn’t just about entertainment; it’s about being able to have relevant conversations with people the next day. Would people still talk to me if I didn’t know what was going on in the sitcom/drama/sports/news world? Or if I didn’t own a car, would that change how people look at me? If I wore the same clothes every day, would that change the way I look at myself? What if I didn’t have this job? What would I say when people ask what I do for a living? What would I do with the looks they would give me?


As a husband and father, a house and food are important in defining how good a caretaker and provider I am. It is vitally and intrinsically important to me to protect my family, and the quality of my house shows the world how good I am at providing shelter. I want my wife and daughter to be happy and healthy, and the quality of food I can supply goes a long way towards defining my ability to do that. The thought of being without a house, or without food, is more than just being cold or going hungry. It’s grappling with how I would live with my failures as a defender and protector.


Even more incomprehensible is the thought of living without my family. What if something were to happen to them? Husband and father are the most important roles in my life, right? How could I go on without them? What would give my life meaning?


In the end, I think that we cling tightest to the things that define us the most. We find our security in creating our own definition of ourselves, and hold on to that for all we’re worth. And yet Jesus invites us to be ready to leave it all behind. He called the disciples to drop everything that defined them – their businesses, their families, and their possessions – to come and let him change their definition of everything. And he invites you and me to allow him the opportunity to define each of us, a definition wrapped in grace, love, faith, and hope. If security is simply a battle for definition, let us all be defined through clinging tightly to Jesus.


"Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for He who promised is faithful." (Hebrews 10:23)

Lent, Take Two

By Ann Hight


Last year I was exploring some of the ancient practices of the Church. I read about solitude, Sabbath keeping, journaling, and other personal spiritual quests. I decided to engage in the practice of lent. I thought a lot about what to do, what to give up, what to add in. It was a private endeavor. I wasn’t so sure that any of my friends or family would be very keen on this ancient practice that was so new to me so I just kept it to myself.


That was a mistake. Trying to go it alone doomed my plan. In just a few days my weak will was overcome by the press of "real life" and lent got lost in the shuffle. So when we began talking about doing lent around East Hills this year I was both excited and apprehensive. I love the idea, but was dogged by my earlier failure.


I was on sabbatical when lent began for me this year. I was out of touch with the details of our church observance so I began my practice of lent on the more traditional day of Ash Wednesday, about a week and a half before most of the church began "lenting". But this year, several people in my family began on the same day so I had a little support this time.


After some consideration, I decided to give up all beverages except for water. I did not really expect this to be much of a challenge since I do not have coffee every single morning, don’t drink that much of any one particular thing. For a day or two I was just fine. Then someone brought over a pizza. In my world, pizza REQUIRES root beer. Ouch. A day or so later, on a very gray and grim morning, I could actually hear a double short cinnamon dolce latte calling my name. Ouch. And I discovered that warm toast without cold milk is just dry bread.


By this time, the church had begun the observance of lent. It was my first day back to church. As I watched friends carry cards forward to make their pledge, along with remotes, candy bars, bags of sugar, and many other representations of their commitment, I was moved by the sincerity and earnestness of what I was witnessing. I felt enfolded and empowered to be part of a wonder-filled journey with friends. I was no longer trudging along on a lonely road, but a fellow traveler anticipating the adventure.


Along with giving up all drinks but water, I have been making an informal study of places in Scripture where water is a key part of the story: the woman at the well in John 4, the crossing of the Red Sea in Exodus 14, and others. I have had a renewing time in the "water of the Word" as God has chosen to speak to me in the particular circumstances of my life.


And since I began lent on the more traditional date, according to my official orthodox source, I am "allowed" to have each Sunday off from lent. That way, it still ends up being forty days. So this past Sunday morning I went to Starbucks for my you-know-what. However, as I carried it in to the church I was extremely self conscious that I was breaking the rules that my lent friends were keeping. I actually stashed the coffee in my office until after worship practice so no one would see me. By the time I secretly drank it 45 minutes later, it was pretty tepid, definitely not worth the hassle! I know that my enthusiasm for lent is tied directly to participating in it with you. How can I falter when friends are nearby, going through the same thing? I truly believe that our lent experience has it’s greatest value in us as a group, though the individual practice is very worthwhile. I hope you are finding your lent challenges to be rewarding as we realign our priorities and collectively step closer to Christ. Easter will be a grand celebration together.

Finding Comfort in the Storm


By: Brian Clark


It seems the past few months have brought much heartache for me and those around me. As I’ve dealt with grief and great loss, the same words that are meant to comfort us all during these times keep coming to mind. Sayings like, "Time heals all wounds," "This too shall pass," "God has a plan," "Hang in there," and the list goes on. Although the sentiments are nice, the comforting effects of these phrases do little.


I remember several years ago when my wife and I went through a particularly difficult season. We were blessed to be surrounded by friends and family who loved us and truly shared in our pain. Often in their compassion they would offer words of encouragement to help ease the sorrow. I recall appreciating the heartfelt attempts to comfort us as the waters of life raged out of control and our emotional and spiritual strength was tested to the limit.


As the details of our crisis became known to more people we were often approached by folks who shared similar stories of heartbreak and loss. Although we had known most of these people for many years we had never known some of the most defining and difficult moments of their lives. Moments that undoubtedly shaped them into the very people we had come to know and love. While the deepest part of their grief had subsided we stood smack dab in the middle of our storm clinging on for dear life.


As their stories were told I was shocked at how many people tried minimize their pain in an effort not to overshadow our situation. The accounts would often start with words such as, "I know this isn’t as painful as…," or "I realize this does not compare to…." Then I would listen to how some tragic event changed their life forever. I remember thinking how these dear people were trying to help us process our grief by sharing a similar experience but at the same time, in their humility, minimizing one of the most painful things anyone could face.


Through that ordeal I learned many valuable lessons. I feel one of the most important is not to try to compare any situation, any amount of pain, any level of sorrow with anyone else’s hurt because no one can really know the emotions another is facing except our Lord Jesus Christ. Psalm 56:8 (NLT) "You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book."


Sometimes the best comfort you can receive, or give, is to just be there while the storm is raging. Seasons of grief are inevitable, like a hurricane; tragedy can rush in unexpectedly and at times tear us down to our foundations. These events and trials come in many shapes and forms and affect all of us in different ways. It is my prayer that when you face these trials you will know the peace that comes though the presence of the Spirit and God will send you someone that will be there as you endure.

An Interview with Chris Jenkins


Bio-Notes . . . Chris Jenkins had two grandmothers who prayed for her always, and that’s who she credits with having introduced her to Jesus Christ as a child. She related to us having walked away from her conversion experience as a teen, but being brought back to Him because of stormy times in her life. Chris grew up in Kelso, and graduated from Kelso High, married Tary at a young age and began a family, focusing her energies on her home, marriage and children, while working outside the home as well.


Chris and Tary enjoy camping in their RV, which they bought when Chris was diagnosed with cancer about a year ago now. They were intentional, as Chris wanted something to look forward to after her surgery, chemo and radiation. Their currently favorite campsite is one close to home outside Castle Rock at the Toutle River RV Park, but they also enjoy going toward the beach as well. Other fun activities for Chris include knitting, reading and enjoying grandkids. A favorite author is Joyce Meyer, who wrote, among others, How to Succeed at Being Yourself and Battlefield of the Mind.


The House: As we talked about, the March issue of The House is focused on weathering stormy times, and especially, how they can be an opportunity for spiritual growth. We remember you sharing some in the Monday Night Live Life Group about your experience of cancer survival. That can be the "definitive" storm of life idea for many of us. Do you feel like your experience has deepened your faith?


Chris: Yes, but it is not the roughest thing I’ve been through. That was another storm Tary and I weathered together. Thirteen years ago, our nineteen-year-old son died. The lessons I learned in my grief and despair are what help me keep my perspective as we continue to drive the cancer into remission.


The House: Did you find more of a sense of God’s presence during the time around his death, or is it clearer as you look back now?


Chris: When my son died, my grief was so great, I felt it could crush me, and even still, I make a conscious effort every day to give my grief and pain to Jesus to carry for me. I couldn’t let it crush me; I was forty years old, and my husband and I had two daughters, fourteen and fifteen at the time, to raise. I couldn’t, and still can’t, "bear" it, though. Jesus carried it for me. I know I will never be the same, but I feel I would have died without Jesus being there for me. Healing has come, but I am very in touch with how much we all need the Lord. During the worst times of grieving the loss of my child, or facing the challenge of fighting the cancer, my faith has been a gift to me. I know I had to choose it, but still, it was and is a gift to me.


The House: We are very grateful to you for sharing your story with us. It’s a privilege to hear about your journey.


Chris: I am grateful for an appropriate time and place to share it. I can’t "just share it" anytime. It’s too heavy to casually talk about in everyday conversation.


The House: What do you consider some of the gifts you have received through these experiences, beyond knowing how much we need God in our lives?


Chris: I am acutely aware, both with the death of a child and the cancer, of how many other people have it worse than I do. I don’t allow myself to have self-pity. The doctor has told us we must go on fighting this cancer for ten years, at least. We have one year done so far. The surgery, radiation and chemo are done for now, and I am taking cancer-fighting medication to continue the treatment until we can expect it might be beaten. One thing I do to fight when I’m feeling overwhelmed is to take one verse or a portion of Scripture and meditate on it. A good example is a simple one: Psalm 56:3 "When I am afraid, I will put my trust in you." I will find a verse, or phrase, and repeat it over and over throughout the day. This practice has brought me so much peace. It reminds me where I need to focus – not on the grief, or the pain, but on God. I would encourage anyone, no matter what the problem might be, to write down Scripture and put it in front of themselves, and meditate on it.


The House: Are there other times when you’ve used another way to focus on God?


Chris: When I was in treatment, everybody told me radiation would be the easiest part, but it was the most difficult for me. I was naked from the waist up, every day, with my arms up over my head. I felt so vulnerable, and as the machine passed over my body, all kinds of clicks and buzzers sounded. It was so unnerving . . . so . . . I filled my IPOD full of praise music, put my IPOD on, and listened to praise music during my radiation treatments, telling God, "I’m praising You!" And then, we had a new challenge: While I was in chemotherapy, I was very ill, and had to be hospitalized. While I was there, I dislocated a disk in my back, and had to wait several months for the surgery I needed, until the radiation was over. I had to rely on God during those painful months, until I could have the back surgery. I’m still in recovery from that, and relying, again, on God’s AMAZING GRACE. These words are not just a song title, or something we just say: His Grace is Amazing, and helps me to go on. Another thing I noticed was how when you’re looking for God in your situation, He’s there! During my treatments, at every turn, there were Christians there, in hospital staff; everywhere. God was there all along the way.


The House: Is there one other thing you want to say about weathering storms?


Chris: I have begun praying intercessory prayers for people. I use it a lot these days. I have empathy for people. I know what it is like to have hard things in your life. The Holy Spirit guides me to pray for people, and it’s a privilege and a blessing to do it. I also have been blessed with a husband, children and grandchildren who have given me lots of love. And, God. When I asked, He gave.


 


 


 

The Stormy Times of Job - by Pastor Caleb Cox


My wife and I have been reading the book of Job this past month. If any man in history hit a rough spot, it was him. He had it all; incredible health, wealth, land, servants, a huge family, respect in his city, and a blameless life. Everyone looked at him and said, "I want to be this man!" And then God allowed for divine reasons of His own this unthinkable tragedy to befall Job. God gives Satan the reigns to afflict Job's body with boils and sores; bandits come and steal away all of Job's wealth, livestock and possessions, and Satan causes the house where Job's kids are feasting to fall on top of them and kill them. The only thing Job has left is a wife who tells Job to "curse God and die." Job couldn't go any lower.


Imagine if you were stripped of everything you had. If your family was killed, your house dispossessed, your possessions robbed of you, your health taken away; you’re sitting in the mud in the cold Washington rain with nothing but hurt and sorrow. You couldn’t go any lower.


A few years back I was in Scotland doing a bagpiping competition. I traveled with some other band members who were not saved. And one day I was sharing with them about what I believed, when one of them brought up the suffering of Job. This person said to me, "I just might consider Christianity to be a good religion if I didn’t know about what God did to Job. How could I ever trust a God who could let a man go through all that? What if he did that to me? I couldn’t give my life to a God like that!" I remember thinking at the time that it was a good question. And right now I’m still convinced that it’s a great question. How can we trust a God who lets His children go through hard times? Is God dependable when we suffer loss? Is his heart for us really good?


This month we are considering the possibility that stormy times in our life may actually cause our faith to grow and allow us to sink deeper roots into what we believe.


There’s something about Jesus sleeping in a boat in the middle of a storm that causes us to pause. There’s something about Job’s reaction to his circumstances that makes us stop and wonder, "what’s really going on here?" How can Job say, "The Lord gives and the Lord takes away; Blessed be the Name of the Lord!" There’s something about Horatio Spafford loosing his daughters in the ocean and then writing the words to the hymn "It is well with my soul." It makes us wonder: from what perspective am I seeing my life? How am I seeing all that is going on around me?


Perspective changes everything. God sees things perfectly clearly. We see like we looking through a steamed up car windshield. So much of our life is caught up in trying to understand, when our life should be truly about surrendering to Another’s perspective. That’s why we call it faith. That’s why we call it trust. If we truly saw things the way God sees them, our whole world would change. We would still experience suffering. We would still experience loss. We would still grieve. But something would happen in us as we look from that place where we know that the heart of God is good, and that He is trustworthy, and His plans for his children are amazing! We would look up and see that the hills are filled with chariots of fire…


-Caleb Cox