I was Googling all sorts of random facts—what color line a certain stop was on the subway, the historical context of a monument,—all in a day’s work when writing a novel. While searching a song on YouTube the side bar read, “Up Next.” In other words, the videos YouTube analytics thought I’d be interested in. The top suggestion was an interview with the actor who played Jesus in the movie The Passion.
My husband and I saw it in the theatre with friends when it came out in 2004—fun date night, huh? We left the theatre in silence. As we got into our car I said, “I’m really glad we went. It was…powerful. But I don’t think I could ever watch it again.” True to my word, I haven’t. I’m squeamish and emotional. Viewing the flogging and torture of Christ, even if it was on the Silver Screen, was important to me as a Christian, to have a better understanding of what Jesus endured. But I didn’t think I could take it a second time around.
I never knew who the actor was who played Jesus or what he had done before or since, so his face and name on the sidebar of YouTube didn’t register anything with me. For the record it’s Jim Caviezel. But just the week prior, my daughter’s teacher had messaged saying she’d like to show The Passion in class but required parents’ permission due to the emotional and violent intensity. That email had been a week ago. I’d talked to my daughter about it. Sent a message back giving permission. Checked it off my list and had processed billions of pieces of information since without giving it another thought.
But now? I hesitated, intrigued by the video on the sidebar, about the movie that was more front of mind than it had been since I’d watched it thirteen years ago.
A few blogs back I shared I wanted to spend the 40 days leading up to Easter seeking God like it was a quest. I read and prayed and forced myself to slow down, pause, and listen. I found Him, of course, in countless ways. Because God is always there. Everywhere. And because He is grander than anything imaginable, when we take off our blinders, we find Him. Sometimes I need to remind myself to look. Often I need help pulling those blinders off.
“Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you.” Matthew 6:33
I was only searching for a performance of a song, but God revealed Himself to me once again. Not because I was actively seeking Him in that moment, but because He knew Laura Smith needed to hear something specific at that particular time. The video was 39 minutes long. Who has time to watch that? It was the middle of my writing day. I had to pick up the kids from school in an hour. But I felt prompted to watch anyway. So I viewed the first few minutes, then let it play for another twenty in the background while I continued with my research. Then it was time to get my kids.
A zillion things occurred— ranging from carpooling to soccer practice that evening to finding someone's missing sock the next morning, and over twenty hours later I returned to my laptop. When I opened it the video was staring me in the face.
Something told me I should watch the rest. Prepared to run it in the background, I pushed play. And then the interviewer asked Jim (the Jesus actor) if he had any parting words. The actor began with how much God loves us then broke into Old Aramaic, quoting his character in the film. I speak some French, a spattering of Spanish and Italian—meaning enough to buy train tickets or order a glass of wine, but Old Aramaic? Not a word. I had no clue what he was saying, but yet these words penetrated somewhere deeper than language could go.
Somehow hearing my Savior’s words spoken in His native tongue took me out of Ohio and my petty concerns of what font I’m typing in and the temperature of my coffee. I was sitting in my writing nook completely undone. Sobbing. Wrecked. It was as if a numbness I didn’t even realize I was experiencing had worn off and I suddenly felt God’s completeness, His unfathomable holiness, and in comparison my utter weakness. Also incredibly tangible was His grace that bridges the huge gap between the two more intensely than I understood was possible to feel. For a moment my blinders came off and I was dazzled by God’s magnificence. And that just shatters me in all kinds of beautiful directions.
Kids, don’t try this at home.
Seriously. Like the Professor explained to Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy that although they would have more adventures in Narnia, more incredible experiences of wonder, it would not be by entering through the wardrobe again, we all experience Christ in different ways and different times. Even how one of us discovers different aspects of God varies from day to day. I wasn’t searching for that video. I'm not even linking it here, because it being your door is unlikely. I didn’t know it existed. I certainly didn’t expect to watch the whole thing. This moment of clarity did not come from my striving, but through God's grace.
Seek Him today. I don’t know how He’ll reveal Himself to you. But He will. And when He does, you will be blown away.
Every great story has a character searching for something. So much so, that Disney has made a franchise out of the “Finding…” title. Dory, separated from her parents, fervently searches the California waters for them. Marlin gets out of his shell, or sea anemone, to find his son, Nemo. In our favorite books and movies characters seek meaning, purpose, identity, true love, answers, friendship, redemption, the sorcerer’s stone, or heaps of treasure guarded by the ferocious dragon Smaug.
What are you searching for? How hard are you looking for it?
I’m challenging myself during Lent (a season of introspection taking various forms in different denominations of the Christian church dating back to 325 AD) to seek Jesus like it’s a quest, like it’s the answer to everything, like my life depends on it. Because Jesus is all of the things our heroes seek—meaning, purpose, identity, true love, answers, friendship, redemption, everlasting life and treasure beyond compare. I don’t know what your Lenten practices or beliefs are, but I am certain we could all be better off with a little more time with Jesus.
A few more minutes in our day allowing Him to remind us that He designed us, He loves us, He selected us, He reaches out to us and offers us not skimpy, or getting by, but abundant living. More moments understanding how grand and vast He is. Some more time realizing that no matter what the world offers it is hollow in comparison to the love, acceptance, and glory Jesus offers. We don’t need to look far. He told us, “Behold, I am with you always, to the very end of the age.” But how often are we talking to Him? Listening to Him? Reaching out to Him? Seeking Him?
If I lose Wi-Fi, I go on a quest to find that freaking connection! I’ll restart the router. Unplug the router. Turn the router on and off. I’ll turn the Wi-Fi on and off on my computer. Search for networks all over again, re-click, reenter the insane password issued to me by Time Warner that only Little Man Tate could remember, and go through the whole process as many times as necessary. What am I doing to hook up to Jesus, to find my connection with Him? How fervently am I seeking Him in this journey of my life?
God made the entire human race and made the earth hospitable, with plenty of time and space for living so we could seek after God, and not just grope around in the dark but actually find him. He doesn’t play hide-and-seek with us. He’s not remote; he’s near. We live and move in him, can’t get away from him! –Acts 17:27-28
Today we’re officially one week into the 40 days of Lent. My journey began with the flu, and for the first couple of days what I was mostly seeking was for my cough and fever to go away and a little normalcy in my sleep patterns. My focus was fragmented. I prayed off and on as I lay awake in the middle of the night or as I drifted off in the middle of the day, but I didn’t want just mumblings with God, I wanted to seek Him. So I began reading the Psalms, and just meditating on His love. This is what I found on Day 1.
Pretty remarkable? One day into my quest and I was already finding Jesus. Have you found any time with Jesus yet? Have you been seeking Him? Why not put down this blog, close your eyes, and reach out to Him. He is near.
No man can be the perfect father. Just like I can’t be the perfect mother, sister, daughter, wife or mom. I’d like to be, but I’m not. I can’t. It’s not possible, because we’re all human.
Yet, all of us can imagine what that perfect father might look like. Maybe he’s a combination of Daniel (Liam Neeson) in Love Actually, Nemo’s dad, Marlin, Atticus Finch and Jean Val Jean—only their best parts, their scenes and dialogue that moved us the most. When we picture that, we’re getting closer to understanding who God is.
When I fall down, mess up, make the same mistake I’ve made over and over and wish I would never make again, yet find myself scuffed and bruised, how would I hope the perfect father would handle it? I’d want him to ask me where it hurts. Get out a bottle of peroxide. Clean up my wounds and hold me until I stopped shaking. Later, when I’m a bit calmer, he’d talk me through what happened, help me strategize how to prevent from falling down again.
When something interesting or hilarious happened during my day, I imagine the ideal father putting down his phone or his newspaper, looking me in the eye and listening to every word of my story, like it mattered, like I matter.
If I were having relationship trouble, I’d like to think the perfect father would make us both steaming mugs of hot cocoa with extra marshmallows and sit down with me on the couch… and listen. Then he’d share with me how he wishes my friends would treat me, how He hopes I’ll interact with the people in my life, what he hopes others see in me. How he expects me to behave. If it were boy trouble, he’d proceed to tell me the kind of guy he always dreamed I’d marry, the attributes he’d like the man I end up with to have—things like integrity and faith and honesty.
As a busy mom of four, I know I don’t always listen fully or comfort before I criticize. Sometimes I try to fix a problem when my child wants me to listen or just offer perspective. I’m far from perfect. But I know how passionately I love my children. That even in my flaws, I want to be fully present for them always and to help them grow into the very best versions of themselves.
If I want that for my kids…I can’t even imagine how much God wants that for us. And since God is perfect, he always gets it right. He’s never distracted or too busy for us. He never shoos us away or gives us half answers. He never ignores us or treats us unfairly. He always guides us on glorious paths and loves us with perfect love.
That’s what the perfect Father looks like. That’s how He loves you and me.
So, the thing I’m most thankful for is God—the perfect Father. It is through Him that a table of Thanksgiving is before me. That the people I love so dearly are gathered around it. That a feast of plenty is spread across it. My thanks are for God who sent His only son, Jesus, to save me and to save you. It is to Him that I owe all of my thanks.
Every desirable and beneficial gift comes out of heaven. The gifts are rivers of light cascading down from the Father of Light. There is nothing deceitful in God, nothing two-faced, nothing fickle. He brought us to life using the true Word, showing us off as the crown of all his creatures. —James 1:17-18
You may have noticed there was no True Reflections blog last week. I missed you all, but I was taking a break. I was resting. When was the last time you rested?
I mean really rested. For more than five minutes? When was the last time you turned off your phone, sat, gazed, breathed, and didn’t look at the clock for hours on end?
“When could I possibly,” you ask? I ask myself that sometimes, too—like all the times. This weekend our calendar includes dinner with friends, eleven soccer games (three of which are out of town), a graduation, church, a wedding, a visit with my mom, and a team meeting. It is physically impossible for us to get to all of these things.
But we’ll try.
And then we’ll be full and happy and connected and stimulated and… exhausted! I think for most of us in today’s world, this is a typical snapshot of a day-in-the-life.
And I am so grateful this is my life, because I love my friends, kids, and family. But it is impossible to maintain this kind of momentum. I didn’t even mention the fact that we should try to squeeze in eating, bathing, and sleeping somewhere in the mix. So how do we find rest in the midst of mayhem (awesome mayhem, but mayhem none the less)?
We have to be intentional.
We need to schedule down time just as intentionally as we plan workouts or conference calls. There are two kinds of rest that we need to make time for:
Both are critical to our mental and physical wellbeing, but it is the latter that I’m talking about here. The get away from it all, put your phone away too (crazy, I know but so freeing), let your brain and all the thoughts in it, your heart rate and your body s-l-o-w down.
Remember, God created Sabbath. He wasn’t exhausted when He created the world, He is God, so it didn’t tax or stress Him. At all. But when He was done, God invented the day off to teach us that all good work needs to be followed by rest. God’s creation of Sabbath was just as important as His creation of land and sea, animals and plants. He knew what we sometimes forget—without rest, we can’t process all the great stuff that happens during the busy times.
By the seventh day God had finished his work.
On the seventh day He rested from all his work.
God blessed the seventh day. He made it a Holy Day
Because on that day he rested from his work, All the creating God had done. Genesis 2: 2-4
As Priscilla Shirer says in her book, Breathe, “In the midst of a universe that cannot exist for a second without constant motion, God transcended the order of nature. He stopped. He rested. And He prescribes the same for you and me.”
My husband and I just got back from one of these brilliantly, spectacular slow downs. We escaped to my mom’s place in the mountains for a couple of days while my incredible mother stayed with our kiddos. In the mountains it’s next to impossible to get a signal. There’s no cable. There’s not even a coffee shop (don’t panic, we packed our Nespresso). However there are breath-taking mountains, a still lake, winding walking trails, the sound of birds singing, and Brett and I had each other. We spent our time walking and talking, sharing, reading the Bible, watching Nicholas Sparks movies, cooking delicious food, listening to a great sermon series, and just staring out at the view.
And in this time and space my husband and I exhaled. Together, we exchanged stories that in our whirl and swirl of daily life had never surfaced. We shared hopes and aspirations. We listened to and worked out each other’s issues, stresses, concerns. And we took time by ourselves, too. I journaled about where I’ve been this past year and where I’m headed. I made plans, jotted down goals, dreamed.
Amazingly, when my life wasn’t so noisy—and I just don’t mean actual noise, but the noise of busyness and distraction—I could hear more clearly. I could hear my husband more crisply. Without the clutter in my brain, I could hear God’s voice reminding me how much He loves me, how much peace He offers, how He’s got my life safely guarded in His hands. When I’m too busy, it’s harder to find time to hear His voice. But in the stillness it surrounded me. And it reminded me of my true reflection, that I am a daughter of Christ.
It’s summertime folks. And that can mean trips and camps and conferences and getting caught up on all the things we don’t get to during the other parts of the year. But it is also a time where it may be easier to carve out some space to just be. Whether you take one personal day or a handful of vacation days, I urge you to find a beautiful spot—a rooftop, a dock, a field of wildflowers, a beach, a park bench with a peaceful view—and sit and unplug and rest and unwind and breathe and listen. Take time off. You don't just deserve it. You need it. It's part of what God created you to do. And if you're worried about what will happen to all of the items on your to do list while you're taking time off, I promise, God has them under control. He's got you covered. I also promise you will not regret resting.
Do you have any plans to unwind this summer? I’d love to hear about them in the comments section below.
Do you know that old Rod Stewart song, “Every Picture Tells A Story (Don’t It)”? I’m understanding more and more that every person has a story, and they’ll tell it to you, and it will blow you away. All you have to do is ask.
I recently experienced an amazing event in Nashville called STORY. The experience was filled with presenters sharing their stories and inspiring attendees to explore and share theirs. Abigail Washburn the Mandarin speaking, banjo playing woman from Illinois, who just returned from a tour along the Great Wall of China with Yo Yo Ma was a stand in for a sick presenter. What? This was the sub?
And Jeremy Cowart, celebrity photographer who has taken photos of everyone from the Pope to the Kardashians to Sting, yet uses his celebrity to launch amazing humanitarian projects such as Help-Portrait, which offers free portraits to people who have never had their picture taken, and campaigns in Haiti, Rwanda, and Uganda to raise awareness of the devastation these people have endured and funding to help them rebuild. This guy was the guy who struggled through high school. This was the guy whose mantra growing up was, “I can’t”. But his parents repeated to him, “I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength” (Phil 4:13). A reminder of truth that WE CAN, despite what the world tells us, despite what our achievement tests score us. Look what he’s become! Think what you can become.
Jon Guerra appeared on stage plucking his acoustic guitar and breaking into a soulful melody “We are stained it’s true, but when Your light shines through, we all look like stained glass windows to You.” And there was the lady who played the bassoon and the woman I bumped into at an after party in a warehouse who made a cotton candy tree full of wishes. And James Rhodes, world renowned classical pianist and composer, who played Chopin so beautifully it made me weep, then proceeded to share openly his story of being sexually abused as a child and how music saved him.
Not to mention the fact my sweet friend who I attended Story with and I, stayed up late in an artsy Nashville hotel wearing our pj’s watching Taylor Swift videos. We all have stories.
I could go on and on. But you get the idea. Stories. We all have them. Each and every human being was knitted together in our mother’s wombs (Psalm 139:14) by God, our Creator, with skills and fears, hopes and hiccups, weaknesses and joys, leaps and bounds, whispers and screams. And God takes all of those marvelous little details and writes our stories. It’s like an Encyclopedia Brown mystery, in that God gives us the opportunity to choose if the hero (you or me) will pick A or B, will they give up or keep going, will they try harder or stop trying, will she dream bigger, smile broader, take a different path when the first one is blocked? Will he or she trust in the Author of their story for a happy ending even when the villain seems menacing and the tornado is twisting and they’re locked in a closet? Will they tap into the courage and peace their God has to offer? Will you?
What’s your story? What’s the story of the person next to you, the one you’ve never talked to, the kid who sits in the back of class, or the woman on the far side of church, or the person who always shows up late and leaves a minute early at boot camp? Are you willing to ask them? Are you willing to share yours? Because when we hear other people’s stories, we see their true reflections, often for the first time. And when we share ours, we let other people see ours. And they are all beautiful.
I need a new pair of rain boots. We need to have a mesh bag for our class trip. We need more bottled waters. I need to find my keys. I need to get to practice early. I need sleep!
We “need” so much. These are just some of the things I heard my family needing, yesterday. Maybe you need something more substantial—enough money to cover your bills, a surgery, a miracle. What do you need today?
Sometimes we throw the word “need” around loosely, when we should substitute want. But there is one thing we do need every minute of every day, Jesus.
My precious friend, Holly Starr’s, latest CD releases today, aptly named, Everything I Need. Starr once again turns the focus of her incredible music to realizing we can’t do anything without Jesus, but with Him, well, we have everything we need.
The title track is one I heard Starr sing at a show a year and a half ago. Since then our whole family has been singing the refrain. It’s something to meditate on, something to remember, something to sing in your head when you’re stuck in traffic or arguing with someone you care about or at your wits end. For all those times we’re thinking we need something, but are so overwhelmed to even know what that something is, it’s Jesus. He is our air, our light, and our daily bread. As Starr describes Him in another song on the CD, “God Is,”
He is mighty, more than able. He's a Refuge and a Savior.
Holly’s voice is beautifully pure and her faith incredibly inspiring. The beauty of her songs will make you sigh in appreciation, make you hum along, but the message of her music is what will draw you closer to God. The word God put in her heart while working on this album was “worship.” Her goal with this project is to help others worship our amazing God and all that He is. Although difficult to choose, my favorite song on the CD is, “Through Me.” In it, Starr sings,
Turn down the noise in all I do, let it be about you, Jesus
Because when we do turn down the noise of our lives, we don’t seem to need those other things so much, it helps us focus on the one thing we do need, Jesus, and how readily available He is to us, no matter where we are, or what we’re going through.
Today, I pray for peace as our family has a jam-packed weekend ahead. I pray for a friend who has experienced a tragic loss. I pray for my daughter to play her best at her soccer game, and my son to garner deeper glimpses of Christ’s love on the retreat he’s attending. I pray for another friend who’s self worth has been marginalized. I pray for time as I connect with old friends, that we can do what old friends do--learn from one another, make each other laugh, share. As I look at these petitions, I see that through them all, everything I need is Jesus, because He provides me with peace, helps us all to shine our brightest, has brought these friends into my life, always wants me to know Him better. Jesus wants me to show love to His children, and He cares so deeply He will comfort those who are suffering. Therefore, He is the answer to all my prayers and to yours. I plan on listening to Holly Starr’s new CD on continuous play this weekend to keep me focused on this truth--Jesus is everything I need.
MY GRACE IS ALL YOU NEED 2 Corinthians 12:9 NLT
How about you? What are you praying for this weekend? How will you remind yourself of Jesus’s provision in all things?
With the new school year, comes a sense of order and routine after the free-flowing days of summer. And each fall, I feel I am expected to be a bit more in control—more in control of what I say, what I wear, how I organize my time, how I manage my money, how I act in public. Being in control most of the time is a very good thing. We shouldn’t shout in libraries, spend more than we make, wear our swimsuits to the office, etc. But sometimes, it’s a very, very good thing to revert, and to let go.
When was the last time you pulled out a box of crayons and drew an imaginary animal or a purple sun? When was the last time you jumped off the diving board or spun someone around in circles in the pool? When was the last time you let out a whoop of excitement in public?
How did it feel? Freeing? Refreshing? Revitalizing?
This summer I took a Zumba class for the first time. Zumba defies letting go of control. I grew up dancing—ballet, high school dance team, and out and out jamming to R.E.M. and New Order at clubs and college parties. But grown women aren’t supposed to shake their hips, do the snake, or wiggle their behinds. Unless, apparently, they’re doing Zumba. The first couple of classes I was like a robot, learning the steps and memorizing the combinations. Somewhere during the third class, I realized when I stopped focusing so hard on getting the footwork right, I could feel the beat, find my groove, and actually do the routines better. But I had to convince myself that it is, after all, okay for a grown woman to shake it (at least in Zumba class). And when I did, it WAS SO MUCH FUN!
Sometimes we need to shake things up to find our groove, do our routines better and experience life more fully. One area I fear I might try to control too much is my faith walk. I go to this church, at this time. I read “this much” of the Bible each morning. I do Bible study on Wednesdays, and do the homework for it at lunchtime when my kids are at school to refocus midday. Which is all great. Because it keeps me in step with God. It keeps me faithful. But what if I redefined walking with Jesus as dancing with Him? What if I let Him spin me and dip me, always trusting Him to catch me, and twirl me back to Him?
What if I shook it up a bit?
What if you did too?
So, I’m challenging myself, and you, to shake up your dance with Jesus this school year. Try a new service, a new station, a new podcast, listen to a different preacher, read a new book, join a new group, pray outside (or inside if you’re usually an outdoor girl), write with a crazy-colored pen in your journal.
Go for a hayride. Eat a caramel apple and don’t worry about the mess. Rake a pile of leaves and then pounce in it. I can’t wait to hear how all of you shake up your school years!
To get your shake-up started, I’m offering my book, It’s Complicated, which just so happens to revolve around four college roommates as they go back to school, for FREE through the end of September. Share with your friends. Click here to download now.
SHAKE UP YOUR GROUP
I’d also love to shake up things in your group by coming to speak to you about how beautiful and beloved you are, because you are made in Christ’s image. Click here to find out more about my speaking. And just message back if you'd like to book a date.
One of the highlights of living in a small college town is the Fourth of July.
There’s a penny carnival, where most of the booth operators don’t even collect the copper coins clutched in the children’s hands to play bean bag toss, get their face painted or bounce in bare feet in the inflatable jumpy house. Dum Dums and Tootsie Rolls clatter on the brick-paved street as library workers, firefighters and the mayor toss candy to the kids lining the curbs.
On scorching July evenings as our entire town gathers at the park, we eat icy-cold snow cones with generous pumps of sweet, sticky flavored cherry or blue raspberry syrup, and we’re certain to bump into everyone from former teachers to co-workers to friends our kids played with when they were toddlers. We’ve waved sparklers with colleagues from Canada and played pick-up soccer games with my husband’s international students from North Africa.
But of course the coup de grace, the main stage event is the fireworks.
“That one looks like a jellyfish!”
“Oooh, I like that one!”
“The kind that shoots up like a rocket then has brightly colored fizzles is my favorite.”
Pop pop pop!
“No the green ones that change color to pink, those are my favorite. Oh, I can’t decide. They’re all my favorite.”
And we are. In awe. Starry-eyed and goosebumpy, like kids on Christmas morning, of the colorful explosions glimmering against the dark, night sky.
These sparks of light and celebration signify the freedom of our country, but they signify something more—possibility, hope, beauty.
Fireworks broken down are man made packets of gunpowder and fire with metal salts, such as sodium nitrate of calcium chloride, mixed in to emit different colors. So how much more can we be in awe of God, the creator of vibrant sunsets, roaring waterfalls, rainbow dotted fields of wildflowers, who does His work, not in a lab but with His imagination and magnificence? God makes our hearts beat, our spines tingle, our eyes tear up with emotion. Have you taken time today to sit still and be in awe of Him?
I love the fireworks. I gaze completely content, undistracted, feeling fizzy inside when I watch them each year, like time has stopped and the world is filled with wonder, and I can do anything. Of course I am even more amazed by the way God loves me, blesses me and provides for me, and I am in awe of Him. Completely. Every day. But I don’t stop my life, pull up a chair, give Him my undivided attention and shout out, “Wow!” nearly often enough. Do you?
Yesterday my husband and I took the day off.
It wasn’t a snow day.
It wasn’t a sick day.
It wasn’t some obscure bank holiday.
But we took it off anyway.
Because we need to slow down.
I’m sure you don’t. I’m sure you feel incredibly relaxed and rested and haven’t done anything in so long; you often tell people you are idle and your time is unoccupied. Right?
If you nodded your head then I haven’t chatted with you in a lonnnggg time. I can’t remember the last time anyone responded to me about all the free time they have. It’s all about busyness, achievement, enriching, accomplishing, isn’t it? Even snails these days are zipping around racecourses and going viral. Or so the kids’ movie, Turbo, depicts. That snail is fast!
And all of those things are good. Grand even. Until they become too important. Until we forget to take time for others, for ourselves, for God.
Even Jesus, Son of God, Creator of the Universe, Savior of the World, took time off. He would wake up early in the morning or take off late at night by himself, not to check scores, or statuses or headlines. Not to file one more report, or do one more set of sit-ups or tidy up one more room. But to go up the mountain, or out of the way and pray.
But Jesus Himself would often slip away to the wilderness and pray. Luke 5:16 NIV
Jesus also took time to share meals with the disciples. We don’t have any scripture passages depicting Jesus eating lunch at His desk while working on His next sermon or scratching on pieces of parchment during meals and handing them to messengers to deliver in the middle of dinner with His disciples. But we have several passages where Jesus is dining with them, talking with them, listening to them, showing them love, and teaching them about the Father. In fact his last interaction with his disciples was a meal, the last supper. And His one of Jesus’ first interactions with his friends after His resurrection was breakfast.
Jesus said to them, "Come and have breakfast." None of the disciples dared ask him, "Who are you?" They knew it was the Lord. John 21:12 NIV
So yesterday I dropped the kids off at school, grabbed a few groceries, and picked up supplies one of them needed for a project. Then I headed home. By 8:30 AM my husband and I were sitting in the family room, not at the table, not near one of our desks, not in the front seat of the car headed somewhere, but on the soft, cushy couches in our family room with the sunshine streaming in through the windows. We sat and talked for hours. About things we’ve been reading, and sermons we’ve listened to, and what God’s been teaching us. We talked about a trip we’d like to take and the state of our hearts and concerns on our minds and the blessing of our marriage. At some point we milled in and out of the kitchen, came back to the family room with our plates of sandwiches and fruit and watched a movie together. In the middle of the day. On a Tuesday. We even figured out how to work Netflix by ourselves, without any of the kids to help us. Score!
And then we went for a walk. Yes, it was twenty-two degrees outside. Yes, I was dressed in running clothes, because I’d planned to get in a strenuous workout. But, instead, we stretched our legs, inhaled crisp air, reflected on how bright azure the sky was, and exercised our souls.
And then it was time. Time to get the kids, and work on homework, and make dinner, and answer email, and run a load of laundry, but I did it more refreshed. More aware of how God is working on me. More grateful for the world I live in, my incredible husband, my amazing children. I know I can’t take every day off. And neither can my husband. But I know I need to take more of them.
It’s easy to let the demands of life fill my calendar and dominate my thoughts. It takes effort to slow down and unwind and intentionally set my phone somewhere I can’t reach it. But the effort is so rewarding. Because it allows God to restore my soul.
David got it right in the 23 Psalm (and my friend, Holly Starr, sings it so beautifully above)
The Lord is my shepherd. I lack nothing.
He makes me lie down in green pastures.
He leads me beside still waters.
He restores my soul.
Let God lead you to still places, lie down, rest. Let Him restore your soul.
When was the last time you slowed down? Truly took a day off? Maybe it’s time to pull out the crammed calendar and schedule one.
After being handed my standard issue clipboard with predictable paperwork at my annual blood draw for health insurance purposes today, I sat down in a typical doctor’s office chair to be greeted with a surprise comment.
“Good morning and God bless you too!” said the older gentleman seated next to me.
He had to be speaking to me, because there was no one else in the waiting room. But I hadn’t spoken yet, making the “too” part of his greeting slightly confusing. But I like to be blessed. And he was friendly, so I said, “Good morning and God bless you.”
And we continued filling out our forms.
Four seconds later my husband walked in. We are required to have this done every year to maintain lower health insurance rates and we always wait until the last week for some reason, so today was our day.
“How was Bible study,” I asked him.
Brett could only give me two or three sentences about who was at Bible study and what kind of donuts they had before my name was called. Now having blood drawn is not my strong suit. Let’s just say I always have to warn the phlebotomist I may pass out. I also know to pack a banana in my purse to eat the second they’re finished to try to give my blood sugar a little replacement.
I’m pleased to report my phlebotomist was gentle, I didn’t look, and I didn’t faint. I did feel woozy, so I sat for a moment or two in the room on the cot, and then for another moment, until she said my pupils looked normal again. I slowly stood, scuffled out to the hall where the same gentleman walked by on the way to his room.
“Where in the Word are you?” He asked.
I’ve been asked by so many people over the years, people I know, people from church, close friends, what my Bible study is studying or what my pastor is teaching, but I can’t remember anyone asking me where I am in the Word, let alone a stranger. Ever.
I was blown away and blessed.
“Galatians,” I managed
“I just finished 2 Samuel last night!” He proclaimed then held up his hand and gave me a powerful high five.
He went into his room.
I sat on the chair nearest the door eating my banana until my husband came out, so we could go to Starbucks together.
But that man…
“Where are you in the Word?”
Wouldn’t it be cool if we greeted each other like that? Just assuming that everyone we met is reading the Bible. Curious to see what they’re studying, what they might be learning, if they’re knee deep in some of our favorite verses or braving books we might normally steer clear of, inspiring us to go back in for seconds or to give something new a try.
Granted, he might have gathered I was a Christian if he heard me ask my husband how Bible study was, but he didn’t know that when he told me, “God bless you too.”
So, what if we asked everyone. What if some people looked at us like we were insane? What if some people asked us what we meant by “The Word” and we were able to share the Gospel?
I went in to have my blood drawn. I went in to check a box for my insurance. I went in nervous and apprehensive.
I came out inspired. And challenged.
So, I ask you friends, where are you in the Word today? I’d love to hear. Inspire me. Challenge me. Where are you?
Laura L. Smith