Prayer

Deny Yourself An Oreo And Find God

/ Lori Lawe / 3 Comments

Her t-shirt said, “Do what feels good.” She was morbidly obese proudly flaunting her worldview, emblazoned across her chest. Sure, maybe eating whatever we want whenever we want would feel good. But how would our knees feel if that was our consistent mantra so that eventually even walking became painful?

No, this worldview didn’t quite line up with reality. We all know that short-term joy can lead to long-term pain and vice versa. There must be a wiser worldview than this one.

Jesus said, “WHEN (emphasis mine) you fast . . .” When. Ouch. I had been a Christian for 30 years, and the time hadn’t seem to have yet come when I needed to fast.

I mean, I didn’t want to be legalistic about this whole thing. Kingdom living is not about ticking off a bunch of boxes.

The early monks got a bunch of theology wrong, we later learned, looking down our academic noses at them hundreds of years later, from the CORRECT vantage point of CURRENT theology.

The early monks and nuns would flagellate themselves. They would deliberately wear horse hair shirts that were itchy, take vows of poverty, and . . . . the theme of today . . . they would FAST.

Sounds like archaic Christianity, I mumble, crumbs from a half-eaten box of Oreos spewing from my mouth as I speak. I play another round of Candy Crush on my iPad. I know what spirituality REALLY is because I’m a modern.

Huh? What? I spew more Oreo crumbs accidentally in an effort to talk. Do you think the monks may have gotten some things right, that we don’t do today? I scoff and wait.

“Yes. They fasted,” you continue.

Every time I read my bible and get to the part about Jesus saying that we will fast, of course, I feel a pang of guilt. Why didn’t I fast, anyway?

So I started fasting.

I thought that I would start with fasting to sort out some of the global mishaps. I would pray about Ukraine and Russia. Stuff like that. World-changing stuff.

So I put away my Cheerios and milk for an hour one morning and had a go at fasting and prayer.

And Jesus was pleased.

Me? I wasn’t so pleased with myself.

I fell flat on my face. I was distracted, hungry, and then gave up after a half hour or so. What’s the point?

Get up, Jesus seemed to be saying, holding out His hand to me. Try again. He gave me a smile and a hug. How could He be pleased with me?

The next week, another fall, a big, lamentable flail. And the next and the next.

Jesus helped me up each time and His pleasure grew with my impending sense of failure.

The two are not unrelated.

Finally, I asked a friend to pray with me, to fast breakfast together, and to encourage one another. He prayed for me, that I would have the strength to complete this most pathetic of tasks.

And I did it.

Not with a conspicuous finish, like that of a victor, sweeping across the finish line, grabbing the trophy before heading to the winner’s platform.

But more like a worm, slithering in the rain, a couple of my worm friends showing me the way.

I didn’t end up praying about world peace, or really anything outside of myself really.

I prayed, “God, help me to be able to fast breakfast this morning!”

And He was very pleased.

Because I realized my need for Him.

Well done, He said, the Father embracing the teen longing for affirmation.

I grew stronger in my understanding of who I am, of my feeble state.

No, I’m not a bold warrior, able to have God bless me so that my superpowers can help solve world crises.

I am pathetic, and barely able to delay my breakfast without His constant help.

And He is pleased with me.

And who will I become, as I rely on God to help me to have the strength to learn to pray?

Demons quiver at the thought.

How To Love To Read The Most Influential Book Of All Time

/ Lori Lawe / 3 Comments

Which book?

According to Guinness World Records as of 1995, the Bible is the best-selling book of all time with an estimated 5 billion copies sold and distributed.

Have you read it?

If you have a copy, could dust be blown off the cover?

Yeah, mine had that problem too.

In fact, J.I. Packer, in Knowing God challenges us to admit it if we don’t love reading our bibles.

To not put our backs to our dusty bibles and to our vague feelings of guilt. “I SHOULD love reading this book but ACTUALLY,” we think…

I realized that even though I have been a Christian for decades, I hated reading the Bible.

(!)

This honesty, like all honesty, proved key to finding my true joy.

I asked for help from the older couple in the church.

You know the ones.

They have been sitting at the back of the church for decades. They attend the prayer meetings. They loved you the first day you arrived.

I asked them why they love to read their Bibles.

At their encouragement, they suggested that I read The Psalms and highlight words that seemed to stand out to me.

How do we read the Bible with Holy Spirit at our sides, nudging our elbows as we read? How does the Bible come alive in our hearts?

I still have many things to tell you, but you can’t handle them now. But when the Friend comes, the Spirit of the Truth, he will take you by the hand and guide you into all the truth there is. The Message

I diligently highlighted a mishmash assortment of odd words that seemed to be highlighted in my soul as I read: Deep. Water. Heart.

And I was still confused.

“God! If you are trying to speak to me, could you please be clear!!”

But [the disciples] didn’t get it, could make neither heads nor tails of what he was talking about. The Message

If the disciples were always confused when Jesus was speaking, why couldn’t I also expect confusion when Holy Spirit may be speaking to me?

But speaking He was.

When the guest speaker showed up at our church many months later singing a new song that she had created, with the theme of many of these words that I had highlighted in my Bible, I knew God was whispering to my heart.

That is His way.

God delights in concealing things The Message

He doesn’t want to bark a clear order to obey, but to pour a little rain into our parched souls, that awakens our hearts and gives a spring to our steps. His words refresh as His love sinks a little deeper into the soil of our hearts.

He clothes His words in love so that we have to come to Him again and again, asking for understanding. And a little of His love sticks each time we run back to Him.

And without our knowing it, as we allow the rain to sink deep, fruit is produced in our lives.

This fruit nourishes us and others.

And makes us run back to His word again and again.

We are hungry.

And we receive nutrients from His word.

Are you hungry? Do you also, like me, need to come off the baby’s diet of milk, and learn to eat?

You’re . . . capable of nothing much more than nursing at the breast. The Message

And when we learn to enjoy solid food, then reading the bible and prayer gets exciting.

Joy is coming. Do you feel it?

Forget about what’s happened; don’t keep going over old history. Be alert, be present. I’m about to do something brand-new. It’s bursting out! Don’t you see it? The Message

Prayer Is More Fun Than Saturday Night Dancing

/ Lori Lawe / 3 Comments

Five steps to grow to love prayer are:

1. Be still and listen. Expect him to speak. We expect the unexpected. What is on God’s heart as we come humbly to Him with our empty plates, our stomachs rumbling again? We learn to discern the words of God from the mumbo jumbo that our inexperienced ears hear by opening His Message to us, the Bible.

2. Love our bibles. How? I used to hate reading my bible, though I felt guilty as I had been a Christian for decades. Now, I love my Bible and treasure it more than any other thing. How to learn to love our Bibles will be discussed in a future post.

3. Worship and thanksgiving clean out our ears. Prayer does this too. Most of the gunk that weighs us down seems to rest in our ears. When we clean out the gunk, our whole selves can lift like a helium balloon up to the loving Father.

Treat my prayer as sweet incense rising; my raised hands are my evening prayers. The Message

Then we can simply open the door when Jesus knocks. We are in a state of rest, not striving

4. Remind Jesus what He has been saying and ask for more. What is on His heart as He tries to wake us, spiritually? These are the things that he has been saying to us. Similarly, we remind Him of our empty plates, our growling bellies, and of our need for Him to fill our plates with His promises.

5. Surrender to His plan for our life. What is God saying that we get to obey? What flower will grow on our plants as a result of this obedience, is the question of hope that keeps us running back to Him. Prayer brings life.

God, just like Froot Loops that don’t satisfy us two hours after we have eaten them (No offense Big Food but your food really stinks), God you have oatmeal for us to eat. The really good stuff. The stuff that keeps us satiated for hours. Change our taste, Lord. Help us to love to eat that which is good.

Teach us to pray.

May we seek and search until we have found that precious jewel that is You.

God’s kingdom is like a treasure hidden in a field for years and then accidentally found by a trespasser. The finder is ecstatic—what a find!—and proceeds to sell everything he owns to raise money and buy that field. The Message

Help us to recognize the difference between junk food and healing food. We pray.

“But there is nothing more dreadfully unimpressive than extemporary prayer which leaps about on the surfaces of things, a disorderly dance of empty words, going we know not whither,–a mob of words carrying no blood, bearing no secret of the soul, a whirl of insignificant expressions, behind which there is no vital pulse, no silent cry from lone and desolate depths.” The Preacher His Life and Work

Does Your Heart Long For the Gift of Hope?

/ Lori Lawe / 4 Comments

Ah!!! All of it – yuck! It clambers on me, like a slime mold, slowly advancing. It climbs up my feet, and legs, though I protest, holding my arms high in an effort to keep it away. I try to push it back, frantically, but it advances. The yellow goo, unfeeling, is slowly encapsulating me. Will I be unable to breathe?

As it climbs up my chin, and toward my mouth, I cry out a guttural sound. I try to scare it with my bellowing roar but it enters, past my lower lip, advancing.

I sit on the ground, defeated. It continues to climb higher, up my cheeks now. I have succumbed. What is next?

And then you approach. Your legs are at my eye level as I sit on the ground next to you. I lift my eyes to your face. The slime swirls under your feet, but cannot climb you.

You extend your hand to me. Will I take it? Of course, I will. I lunge for your hand and the warmth surprises me. You look heavenward, up, your eyes closed as your fingers clasp around my hand.

I feel a tingling sensation, and a deep warmth, like water poring just under my skin. What is this? I am standing now, and I look in wonder at my hand that was just touching yours.

The slime pools and bubbles at my feet now, too, in a swirling confusion, but I pay no attention. I tread on it with ease.

I am laughing, embracing you. “Thank you! And wait!” I begin to say. I have so many, many questions. But you must not be detained. You stand in a circle and turn around once, or twice, and then are transformed into an eagle.

And you soar.

I jump after you. I try to flap my arms too. You become smaller and smaller, a tiny dot, gliding back and forth across the sky above me. You seem to be beckoning me just by your presence.

The impossible has become possible because of your life.

And what do I do, now that I have seen you? Do I sit down on the ground again, in despair, and wait once more for the slimy mold to… no!

But yet I can’t fly! I am lost in confusion. I circle once, twice, spinning, and then fall to the ground, dizzy. I did not transform as you did.

What will become of me? Oh – what was it that you gave me? Yes, I put it into my pocket. That tiny piece of paper.

I read like a starving man who has not seen food for days eats. What does it say?

Pile your troubles on God’s shoulders— he’ll carry your load, he’ll help you out. The Message

And so I rant, and I complain, and I speak of what ails me. And the slime mold oozes from my mouth. It was not outside of me but within me this whole time! When I speak it aloud and expel my inner contents in a mess of turmoil to my God, then the slime mold is expelled from within me.

I wipe my mouth. I feel gross and splattered with my mess and yet my stomach ailments feel better, too. And what now, I wonder? I feel lighter now, almost as if I could…

I spin around once, twice, and then, the wind beneath my foot pushes my foot into the air at the exact moment that I leap up. I turn in the air, once twice, and …

I am an eagle, now, soaring, too.

I crisscross the sky, just above them. Can they see me? I think they can if they squint, look closely, believe. Are any of them ready to step out of the advancing slime mold too?

Get up, get up, dear friend.

A Gift We All Want – Freedom from Fear

/ Lori Lawe / 4 Comments

The edge of the shadow creeps higher.

From the corner of my vision, I see it. It grows, curving and menacing as it climbs, encompassing my field of vision. It expands before my widening eyes.

I slouch, making myself smaller. Only my huge eyes can be seen now, staring at it, watching it grow.

Pop! It is gone! I sit up in wonder, turning round to see what has happened. You have flipped the light switch to “on”.

But fear, and the memory of it broods just under the surface as we speak. I am never very far away from it.

As a lake is half full of water, I am half full of fear, wherever I go. We speak of other things, above the water level of my fear, but the heavy lake of fear sways within.

It is just under the surface. Can you feel it?

Why no?

You flick on a flashlight, and shine it at my feet. The water level recedes to just below your light. I am walking on water now because your light has forced the fear, the water level, to recede from where it was just under my waist, to where it is now, just under my feet.

Wow! Thank you! I shout! I sing and dance, splash my feet in the puddle, the memory of my fear. I take your hands and ask you to dance with me, to splash with me. The lake of fear has become a puddle of fear that I now traipse in.

I need you with me, everywhere I go. And that light thing – that flashlight – can you bring that everywhere too?

You tell me you can’t stay with me and I throw myself prostrate, clinging to your feet, begging you not to leave me. I am horizontal in the puddle now, and fear surrounds me again, even with you here. Please don’t leave me!

I have to leave, you say, gazing with love into my eyes.

You turn around once, twice and are transformed into an eagle. You spring from the ground, eyes lifted, and soar. You circle me from the air, high up, watching me with the piercing vision of that majestic bird.

I can see you sometimes, though you are long way off. Your example encourages me to sit up, to wipe the tears from my eyes, and wait – what is this in my hand? Oh, you left me your flashlight!

I stand up, splashing the puddle with my boots, and switch the flashlight to “on” again. I whirl it round me. No monsters here- only the faint shadow of their movement at the edge of this beam of light.

I sit down to eat awhile, to refresh my spirit. I am on dry ground now, for the warmth of the light from my flashlight has evaporated any water. What was it that you told me again?

“I look up to the mountains; does my strength come from mountains? No, my strength comes from God, who made heaven, and earth, and mountains.” The Message

I lift my gaze. Light from the arm holding my flashlight naturally lifts to follow my gaze. The light shines higher and I feel lighter, lighter.

No fear to hold me down.

I spin, once, twice and now I am free too, free to soar. I too have found my wings. I too am an eagle.

It was only fear that was holding me captive.

I left my flashlight on the ground for them.

I hope that they (you) find it soon.

Merry Christmas Everyone!

/ Lori Lawe / 4 Comments

Or maybe that’s “Merry Christmas One” – if there is only one of you who reads this…???

Whatever.

In my Lawe Christmas Letter post from a couple of weeks ago, I lamented that we didn’t have an eloquent picture of our family.

Well, here it that photo, taken today!

In hindsight, there may be at least one person still in PJs in both blog post photos, but let’s not expect perfection!

May God hold those of you who are hurting in His hand, today. May all of us comfort others with the comfort that we have received tomorrow.

All praise to the God and Father of our Master, Jesus the Messiah! Father of all mercy! God of all healing counsel! He comes alongside us when we go through hard times, and before you know it, he brings us alongside someone else who is going through hard times so that we can be there for that person just as God was there for us. The Message

Let’s pause and practice listening today, to that still small voice of Holy Spirit. Jesus, I give you this pain today. Could you give me Your comfort?

How to Receive The Gifts You Really Want This Christmas

/ Lori Lawe / 1 Comment

A hairdryer for the bald guy. A new journal for the person with tendinitis. I have received every color and scent of “bath and body balms”. I’m allergic to them all. (Plus, why do you need a “body balm”? What even is that?) You have examples of your own.

Christmas presents that are useless. We smile, nod, PRETEND, and then say thank you for the stupid stuff in our hands.

How about the gifts that represent the desires of our hearts? The ones that are JUST out of reach? The things that we can’t quite articulate, that we don’t quite have the hope to believe we could ever attain, and so we try to forget.

How do we exchange bad Christmas presents for good ones? Where is that store?

Well, the frustrating part is that if I lead you to that store, you won’t go inside. You think you’ve already seen everything in that store. You think you understand what it’s like. You’re wrong. I know because I didn’t go inside for a long, long time, either.

I stood outside trying to warm my hands and feet while people came out of the store smiling, with shining packages. They invited me to come inside, but “No, I’m fine out here.” They can see that I am suffering in the cold, but they shake their heads and pat me on the shoulder as they walk past.

Many understand because they also stood outside in the cold for a long, long time prior to entering.

However, I had heard that night on the news that freezing temperatures this time of year are deadly. I became more uncomfortable as I shivered, but still, I waited.

Finally, I gave up and turned around. I walked back to my home, put my feet up, and distracted myself with the news.

I HAVE experienced Christianity, I protest!

They knock on the door. They brought me hot chocolate to warm my freezing hands. They offer me packages from the store that I was standing outside of.

Finally, I open one.

Oh, so THIS is what Christianity is like, I exclaim!

The gift we REALLY want will be discussed in detail next time here and here. How to receive good gifts, by cleaning our senses, will also be discussed.

Hey! Don’t blame me for these super short posts! You’re the one with a short attention span! Go read a REAL book or something. As for me, I have a train game streak that I don’t want to mess up, so I gotta go!

“. . . if some . . . outsiders walk in on a service where people are speaking out God’s truth, the plain words will bring them up against the truth and probe their hearts. Before you know it, they’re going to be on their faces before God, recognizing God is among you.” The Message

God, teach us to want to receive good gifts from You. What is hindering me from receiving from You, the gifts I really, really want this Christmas? (Pause and listen. This is how we begin to clean our ears.)

How To Enjoy Christmas: Lessons From A Former Grinch

/ Lori Lawe / 5 Comments
Photo Credit: How the Grinch Stole Christmas! by Dr. Seuss

Are you, too, trying to learn how to take off your Grinch suit, and leave it hung up on the wall? Does it try to jump onto you, as well, when you are not looking?

Unfortunately, I am only a recover-ING, not a recover-ED Grinch. However, I am learning to make room for Jesus by opening my senses: listening and seeing with the ears and eyes of God.

Are our ears cleaned out? Can we make time to listen to the soft voice of Jesus this season? What was that, Jesus? He wants us to get away with Him. Can we dump the holiday bustle of our culture and let Jesus culture win instead?

Who will determine our priorities? Will another good event win out, or will the very best for the soul win? Prompted by my quiet time with Jesus, and even though I already felt too busy that week, I phoned Mary. And I was the one encouraged, not her.

Instead of mindlessly baking a bigger tower of cookies, what if we sat with Jesus and lifted our bloodied hands to Him? What mistakes have we made that we need to ask Jesus, or another’s forgiveness for?

Are our eyes seeing clearly? Can we look through the eyes of Jesus at others? Can we extend forgiveness to that annoying relative we see only at Christmas? Let’s ask Jesus how He sees that person.

Your annoyance may turn to compassion, as mine recently did when I asked Jesus that very question about a person in my life who has an invisible but sharp thorn that regularly pokes me when she speaks. Do we need grace for this situation? He’s got that too, as another Christmas present for us, if we only take the time to sit with Him, to ask, and to hold out our hands to receive. And joy follows His voice, His gifts.

I have taken off my Grinch suit because it stinks. It turns out that we all wear beautiful robes under our Grinch suits! And when we stop a moment to gaze at him, He uses his large eraser to gently clean our robes. He is transforming us!

Let Christmas come into my heart, too!

“He was looked down on and passed over, a man who suffered, who knew pain firsthand. One look at him and people turned away. We looked down on him, thought he was scum. But the fact is, it was our pains he carried—our disfigurements, all the things wrong with us.” The Message

As we sit here by the fire together sipping eggnog, let’s share our hearts. What is helping you to keep your Grinch suit hung up on the wall?

Even Homeschooling Moms Can Enjoy Christmas!

/ Lori Lawe / 4 Comments
Photo Credit: How the Grinch Stole Christmas! by Dr. Seuss

I looked down at my feet, and instead of my slippers, I wore large red elf shoes. When I looked up at my legs, they were in a strange green suit. My expression was a constant frown. Ah! I had become the Christmas Grinch!

I frantically tried to take off the suit, shoes, and hat, but as hard as I fought myself, I couldn’t remove the attire. I slouched in my chair, despondent. I had to face the facts: I was not looking forward to Christmas.

Maybe it was the little things piling up that had rendered me here on the couch, immobile. I found myself seeking a particular type of shirt at a thrift store for my daughter for her Christmas concert (tomorrow). My other daughter “needed” to attend a Christmas wreath-making event. I found myself shivering in the car outside, adapting technology to my car for my zoom meeting. How had I agreed to this?

Who decided there are expectations to bake Christmas cookies? We are all too fat anyway, or viciously battling the bulge. Indulgence is good but stressing out to indulge seems counter-productive if we’re honest. And waiting until January to slow down on unhealthy binge eating doesn’t seem like the best plan.

Add the anticipation of a stressful car ride on winter roads to visit relatives, and I have somehow lost my holiday happiness. However, their eyes look up at us Moms in expectation of an excellent Christmas. And how are you doing, Mom?

So I set aside the Christmas bustle and found a quiet place to sit for a moment. I lifted up my smelly attitude and asked for a Christmas gift exchange with you, Jesus. Would You please give me your joy in exchange?

And in the quiet of my heart that morning, though my prayer was focused on me, he reminded me of the other. Phone her. Her health issues have intensified.

The Lord asked me to call Mary because in his wisdom he knew that I needed her, not vice versa.

Mary said, “I know that if I throw a pity party for myself, I am not going anywhere. So I chose joy this morning and I have been so full of the joy of the Lord, it is amazing.”

She rattled off scripture, a big jumble, not unlike another Mary, the mother of Jesus did over 2,000 years ago.

And Mary [pregnant with baby Jesus] said, “I’m bursting with God-news; I’m dancing the song of my Savior God.” The Message

Two Marys have made room in their hearts for the baby Jesus, within the sufferings of both the stable and of health issues. And His kingdom came.

Wearing this Grinch suit is a choice, I suddenly realize as I hang it back up. And so how do we genuinely enjoy Christmas?

I have been learning to open my spiritual senses to listen to and see Jesus this Christmas. We’ll discuss ways to extend these spiritual senses in the next post.

For now, bring your eggnog and come sit here, friend, next to me. Let’s share this warm blanket by the fire. The great comforter is coming soon! How have you been getting your room ready for Him this Christmas?