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Discernment Challenge: How Do We Know It’s God?

One of the most prominent questions in spiritual direction and discernment is this: When I have a spiritual experience, how do I know it’s God and not my imagination or wishful thinking? I’d like to be able to give an iron clad answer to that question, but it’s just not possible, given the nature of God (as in, invisible). However, there are guides we can use to test our impulses, desires and insights. And those guides come in many forms, but I’ll start with the Bible.

In the Hebrew scriptures, apocrypha, and New Testament, there are a number of lists naming the attributes of God. These lists are helpful for discernment.

God’s desire is planted in our hearts. Deuteronomy 30. This chapter not only explains the covenant between God and Israel, but it offers some guidelines for righteous living. Choose life over death. The word is in your heart to observe. I (God) am with you through it all.

Pay attention to the little voice. Isaiah 30:21. When you turn to the right or when you turn to the left, your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, “This is the way; walk in it.”

The nature of Wisdom. Wisdom of Solomon (Apocryphal book) 7:22-8-1. The Wisdom of God is described in this listing of virtues (Wisdom, in biblical wisdom literature, is personified as a woman). Some of the virtues useful for discernment: holy, clear, humane, steadfast, free from anxiety, penetrating through all spirits.

Beatitudes. Matthew 5–7. The Sermon on the Mount (or Luke’s Sermon on the Plain) includes excellent benchmarks for discernment. Is my choice merciful? From a pure heart? Just? Does it contribute to peace?

Fruit of the Spirit. Galatians 5:22. You can test your choices by this list. Even though it is not an exhaustive list, it gives us a pretty good picture of what God is like. Jesus frequently spoke of knowing what is holy by the “fruit produced.” Love, joy, peace, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance.

Think on these things. Philippians 4: 8-9. Another list to help you make choices and test “spirits.” Whatever is true, honorable, just, pure, pleasing, commendable, any excellence, anything worthy of praise — keep your mind on these things.

Wisdom from above. James 3:17-18. God’s wisdom is pure, peaceable, gentle, willing to yield, full of mercy and good fruits, without a trace of partiality or hypocrisy. And a harvest of righteousness is sown in peace for those who make peace.

These lists offer us some guidance and benchmarks for evaluating our choices. Because we are human, we’re not always going to get it right. But, we’ll do a lot better in discernment with these attributes of God as our guide than without them.

Wilderness

by Rev. Deb Worley

“Behold, I am doing a new thing;
now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?
I will make a way in the wilderness
and rivers in the desert.”

(Isaiah 43:19, ESV)

“Wilderness,” as we all know, can mean different things to different people. Heck, it can even mean different things to the same person, at different times in their life. Wilderness is not a one-size-fits-all endeavor.

Sometimes wilderness might look like unexpected suffering, or soul-wrenching depression, or uncontrollable chaos. Or mental illness. Or cancer. Or a global pandemic. Sometimes wilderness might be found in the midst of profound grief, or deep weariness, or ongoing uncertainty. Or too many responsibilities. Or too few resources. Or not enough young families.

Sometimes wilderness might be individual; sometimes, communal. At times, it might be blessedly short-lived; at other times, seemingly and agonizingly unending.

Wilderness means different things to different people.

As people of faith, we are not exempt from experiences of wilderness in our lives, whether as individuals or as the Body of Christ. We are promised, however, that we will not go through them alone. We are promised that God will be with us.

And not only that–if we are to take Isaiah at his word, we are promised that God “will make a way in the wilderness,” that God will lead us through it, that God will open a path where it had seemed to us there was no path. We are promised that God will be with us in and through and out of the wilderness, to the other side, where “rivers in the desert” await, where there will be healing and wholeness, abundance and life.

We can’t know for sure what that path will look like, or how long it will be, or how many twists and turns and hairpin curves and hills and valleys we will pass through along the way. Nor can we know with certainty when we will step out of the wilderness and find ourselves at the edge of the river, dipping our toes in the water and inhaling deeply and recognizing that we have moved into a place of healing and abundance.

But we can be sure that we will. We can be sure that we will!

Thanks be to God for the promise of new things, new paths, new life…that come after seasons of wilderness.

Peace be with us all.

Deb

“You have set my feet in a broad place.”

by Rev. Deb Worley

“I will exult and rejoice in your steadfast love, because you have seen my affliction; you have taken heed of my adversities, and have not delivered me into the hand of my enemy; you have set my feet in a broad place.”

(Psalm 31:7-8, NRSV)

God sees David’s afflictions. God knows what things are causing David pain and heartache and anxiety. God is aware of David’s challenges and struggles, and can name his fears and his foes.

With gentleness and tenderness and compassion, God holds all that causes David to shrink and shrivel and clench and constrict.

With power and strength and courage, God holds all that leads David to feel less than and “bound up” and, somehow, diminished….

David knows that God sees and understands and contains all of that…and still, has not turned David over to any of those things.

David knows that God is bigger and stronger and truer than any of those things, and in knowing that, in trusting in that, in claiming that, he knows that he will not be “delivered into,” not be given over, not be consumed by any of those things.

God will win. God has won. David knows this, and claims this….and can then breathe again.

“You have set my feet in a broad place.”

Ahhhh….there is un-shrinking, and un-shriveling, and un-clenching, and un-constricting as David breathes….

“You have set my feet in a broad place.”

Ahhhh…there is a letting go of less-than-ness, a loosening of bound-up-ness, a releasing of the feeling of being diminished…..

“You have set my feet in a broad place.”

Ahhhh…there is a standing tall, an unassuming strength, a quiet courage, with room to breathe…because David knows that God knows, that God sees, that God holds…and that God loves. And David can breathe. And exult. And rejoice. And breathe.

And that makes all the difference.

God, I want to be like David….
Amen.

Rewriting Psalm 31

(the first five verses) by Rev. Deb Worley

“In you, O Lord, I seek refuge;
do not let me ever be put to shame;
In your righteousness deliver me.
Incline your ear to me; rescue me speedily.
Be a rock of refuge for me,
a strong fortress to save me.

You are indeed my rock and my fortress;
for your name’s sake lead me and guide me,
Take me out of the net that is hidden for me,
for you are my refuge.
Into your hand I commit my spirit;
you have redeemed me, O Lord, faithful God.”

(Psalm 31:1-5, NRSV)

In other words…

In my words….

This is what I need from you, God–
a place of safety, a place of protection,
a place of freedom
from those who would hurt me,
oppress me, shame me,
pursue me….

That’s what I need from you….
Did you hear me, God?
Will you please be that for me??
And be that for me now??….

Wait–you are that.
All of that!
You are my place of safety,
and my protection;
in you I can find freedom
from all that would hurt
or oppress or shame or pursue me!

I trust you, God;
in honor of that trust,
please show me what to do next.

I trust you,
and your strength,
and your goodness,
and your protection….

Please honor that trust
by keeping me safe
and guiding me away from
traps that I don’t even know
have been set for me,
traps that I can’t try to avoid
because I don’t even see them!

I trust you, O God;
I trust you fully…
and how I long to be
fully trustworthy in return.

I know, deep in my soul,
that you love me, O God,
and that you only want what’s Good….

I give myself to you, O God,
and step forward,
head held high,
my hand in yours,
in faith….

Amen.
Peace be with us all.
Deb

Wait—what??

by Rev. Deb Worley

“I could ask the darkness to hide me
or the light around me to become night,
but even darkness is not dark for you,
and the night is as bright as the day….”

(Psalm 139:11-12)

Wait—what??

“I could ask the darkness to hide me
or the light around me to become night…”

I don’t know about you, but I tend to want the exact opposite–
generally, I want to get out of the darkness;
I’m eager for the night to become day,
for the darkness to turn to light…

Why was the psalmist wanting the darkness to hide him?
Why, if he was in the light, was he wanting that light to become dark?

I can’t help but wonder if he was feeling ashamed of something–
ashamed, and wanting to hide away in the dark….

Or perhaps he was feeling depressed–
and wanting to keep others from seeing it….

Maybe he was feeling
unwanted, unworthy,
unlikable, unlovable–
and imagining
that if he couldn’t see himself,
his feelings of wretchedness
would be similarly invisible….

Those kinds of feelings
can make us want to hide,
can make us afraid
of anyone looking too deeply into us,
can cause us to wish
that any light that happens to be shining on us
would magically turn to darkness,
suddenly turn to night….

Those kinds of feelings can cause us
to not want to be seen,
to feel ashamed to be known,
to feel unworthy of being loved….

Those kinds of feelings, I can imagine,
might lead us to want
to be hidden in the darkness,
to be hidden by the darkness….

“I could ask the darkness to hide me
or the light around me to become night…”

Hmmm…I think I get it….

And yet…
the psalmist realizes
that even in the darkness,
he won’t be hidden from God.
Even if the light turns to night,
God will still see him.

God will still see him,
and seeing him, God will love him.

God will still see him–and his shame and depression–
and God will love him.

God will still see him–and his feelings of being unworthy and unlovable–
and God will love him.

The psalmist realizes that
no matter the darkness of the night,
no matter the darkness of his soul,
the brightness of God’s love will shine on him still.
Period.

He need not fear the light,
he need not fear being seen,
he need not long to be hidden by the dark.

He is seen by God, and he is loved.
Period.

So it is for us.

May the peace of God be with us all.
Amen.
Deb

What If One Word Could Say It?

by Kay F. Klinkenborg

What if one word could provide clarity for the wide range of emotions we have all felt during COVID-19 since March 2020? Try: languishing. Dr. Adam Grant wrote an article: “There’s A Name for the Blah You’re Feeling: It’s called Languishing” for the NY Times, April 19, 2021.

I have heard a wide range of emotions this year: anxiety, fear, empty, listless, depressed, trouble concentrating, and life without a defined direction to name a few. And there have been many sad experiences of loss and resulting grief of loved ones and friends. Also grief of the loss of our normal routines, limitations of what, how and when we could do our predictable routines.

Grant notes that “we think about mental health on a spectrum from depression to flourishing… being the peak of wellbeing.” Prior to COVID many have experienced or known someone close who experiences depression. When depressed you feel despondent, worthless, no energy to move forward. “Languishing is the neglected middle child of mental health” states Grant. One of Webster’s definitions: to lose vigor or vitality.

Remember acknowledging that you weren’t functioning at full capacity, but couldn’t say why? You had no overt symptoms or behaviors to indicate mental illness. I recall days of ‘trying to make myself focus.’ Maybe accomplishing one or two of five goals I would have normally set for the day. I have read other articles that comment that during COVID, people were struggling with the long-haul impact of restrictions and the unknown.

Languishing is the void between depression and flourishing—an absence of wellbeing, but you don’t quite feel yourself either—your motivation is dulled, notes Grant. The potential risk of remaining in ‘languish’ is that one might not notice you are slipping toward depression. You might not be experiencing joy or delight and suddenly realize you haven’t felt that for some time.

Say it aloud, languishing, name it. Grant writes that might be the first step to learning more about it; because we haven’t done many studies on languishing. “Languishing is common and shared.” And thus, is not an abnormal reaction. We have not been through a pandemic before.

The professionals admit there is still a lot to learn about this term.

Grant proposes one of the first things to do in coping with languishing is to ‘be in the flow.’ Fr. Richard Rohr in his book, Divine Dance, writes in numerous chapters about the concept of “flow.” To be in the flow is the experience of trusting the moment and staying focused on the smallest of goals. Being present and not letting your mind wonder hither and yon. Don’t spend energy trying to figure out how to control the situation or others or debating solutions for the biggest of problems that professionals/ elected officials are set out to do. Take a deep breath and remember the Creator designed you, and lives in you and all of creation. Don’t go the judgmental path…go the path of discovery the smallest awes.

I find that spiritually to own languishing means I have to name it and experience it and claim that God is a verb in the midst of all that I am witnessing, hearing, and experiencing. Where is God in what I see today? Where is God in what I heard about today from others? Stay in the flow. We have not been alone in this pandemic; nor are we alone post-pandemic.

Second, set boundaries as to when you are not to be interrupted. You need breathing space to rest and process all that has transpired…even…especially even now… as we see a ‘light at the end of the tunnel’ in America as more are vaccinated. All processing doesn’t happen in the exact moment…when we can’t name what is happening. We need to bring some grace to ourselves and others for quite reflective time. A time for energy to be restored. Maybe it is a time when you read a novel, do some craft work, have a project. The important thing…it is your time with boundaries and no interruptions.

Third, pick small goals (Grant). This pandemic was a BIG LOSS. Maybe a short word game, one meaningful conversation with a trusted friend 1-2 times a week to own the gift of that friendship to you and to them. Maybe you color in an adult coloring book. It doesn’t matter the goal…make it a small one. No one is here to judge you about how you spend your time or what you need to do to complete a goal that feels satisfying.

One of the most important sentences in Grant’s article is: “Languishing is not merely in our heads…it’s in our circumstance.” You didn’t cause this…you aren’t making it worse. Many journalists, mental health professionals, and trauma psychologists remind us we are entering a post-pandemic reality. And with that will be some who have some Post Traumatic Stress Disorder for which they need to seek some professional health; particularly if they aren’t eating, can’t motivate themselves to get up, are isolating from others, and feel ‘blue’ beyond what they can manage.

We can now begin with the lists above to address how the post-pandemic awareness of what languishing is and has been in our past 15 months. Give voice, name it, there is power in naming what is happening with you. Your courage to name it…will encourage others to name it too…and that empowers each of you to move forward with positive steps into more ‘thriving’ modes of living.

Kay F. Klinkenborg © May 2021

Church of the Palms

Kay is a Spiritual Director; Retired: RN, LMFT and Clinical Member AAMFT. She chairs the Life Long Learning Board at Church of the Palms, serves on the CARE TEAM, and the W.I.S.E. Steering Committee.

An Antidote for My Racing Mind

by Rev. Deb Worley

“Happy are those…[whose] delight is in the law of the Lord,
and on [God’s] law they meditate day and night.
They are like trees planted by streams of water,
which yield their fruit in its season…”

(from Psalm 1)

As I lay in bed last week, for hours and hours…and hours…, waiting for my body to recover from whatever bug I had caught that laid me up (or more accurately, laid me down!), there were times when my mind went in a million different directions. On occasion, as it raced, in an attempt to calm it down, I found myself reciting some of these simple phrases: “God is good…God is faithful…God is with us….”

Those phrases are not necessarily found among the 613 commandments found in the Hebrew Bible–“the law of the Lord”–and as such, are likely not what the psalmist was referring to when he wrote about those happy people who “delight in the law of the Lord,” meditating on it nonstop.

But to me, those phrases–God is good…God is faithful…God is with us–encapsulate much of the truth and beauty and power of our faith.

And when I can think about those things rather than the things that cause me anxiety or fear, then I become more solidly grounded–kind of like a tree.

When I can think about those things rather than all the things I don’t know or don’t understand, then I become more deeply nourished–kind of like a tree whose roots are fed by nearby water.

When I can think about those things rather than trying to desperately figure out how I can solve, fix, or help everyone or everything around me, then I become less tied to both my efforts and the immediate outcomes and tangible results, and more trusting of things happening as and when they need to–kind of life a tree whose roots are fed by nearby water, whose fruit grows when it’s time for the fruit to grow.

I’m pretty sure I will never find delight in meditating on the 613 laws found in the Old Testament. But I trust I will continue to find meaning in meditating on the simple and profound truths found in phrases such as “God is good” and “God is faithful” and “God is with us.”.

I wonder if you do, too?

Peace be with us all.
Deb

Photo by Michael & Diane Weidner on Unsplash

What Does God See When God Looks At Me?

For Mothers

by Deborah Church Worley – May 2013

I dedicate this poem
to my mother, Joyce Mary Payne Church–
who put up with me as a kid;
to my kids, Sarah, Ryan, and John–
who are putting up with me as a mom;
and to all moms everywhere,
who are doing their best every day
to love their kids!

God bless you all!

What does God see
when God looks at me?
Does God see my elbows?
Does God see my knees?
Does God see my nose
and my misshapen toes?
The shape of my chin?
the color of my skin?
Does God see me in the morning,
when I’m looking quite scary?
Does God see my legs,
when they’re scaly and hairy?
Does God see those bags
I’ve got under my eyes?
Does God see jelly jiggling
when God sees my thighs??
Sometimes I wonder what God sees
when God thinks to look at me…

What does God see
when God looks at me?
Does God see that bulge
where my waist used to be??
Does God see the [mark of honor] stretch marks
that adorn my lower belly?
…and the muscles underneath
that have now turned to jelly??
Does God see the parts of my body
that will never again be lifted?
…and how my view of the world around me
has forever shifted…
because I am a mother?
The toughest job I could ever love (well, mostly!…)
is being a mother…
Does God see my gratitude for this gift
that is truly like no other?
Sometimes I wonder what God sees
when God thinks to look at me…

What does God see
when God looks at me?
Does God see me when I’m buried
under dirty laundry?
Does God see me stagger out of bed
to feed my crying baby?
‘Cause I’d do it with a smile
if I thought God was watching…(maybe!)
Does God see the moments of panic
when I realize how true it is
that I really don’t have a clue
when it comes to this mothering biz?!
Why didn’t You send an instruction book, God,
when You sent this child to me?
What You saw in me when You gave me this gift,
I’m not so sure I see…
Sometimes I wonder what God sees
when God thinks to look at me…

God whispers to me, “I see it all…,”
and then in my heart I hear God call,
“You are my Beloved…

…and you are more beautiful
and more capable than you know!”

What does God see
when God looks at me?
Does God see me putting band-aids
on banged-up knees?
Does God see me steal a cookie
when I’m making all those lunches?
I can’t help it, God–sometimes I get
those early morning munchies!!
Does God see me put thousands of miles
on the car, going back and forth?
And that’s not even counting their activities–
that’s just trips to the grocery store!
Do You see when I get frazzled, God,
trying to keep everything straight?
I’ll tell You, it’s a good thing I’m married
‘cause I sure as heck don’t have time for a date!
Sometimes I wonder what God sees
when God thinks to look at me…

What does God see
when God looks at me?
Does God see me as I really am?
or as I’d like to be?
I hope God sees me when
I’m being sympathetic, patient, and kind,
and hears me when I’m inconvenienced,
saying, “It’s okay, I really don’t mind!”
I hope when I’m being crabby,
God has looked the other way,
but when I’m loving & sweet again,
has just happened to turn back my way!
Does God see me when I’m short-tempered?
Just ask my kids–I get downright mean!
But it’s only when I’m being a good mom
that I really want to be seen…
Sometimes I wonder what God sees
when God thinks to look at me….

What does God see
when God looks at me?
Does God see me cleaning up vomit
at a quarter to three?
Does God see me when I stay up late,
just to wash my son’s favorite shirt?
Does God see when I want to shake him and say,
“Stay away from her–she’s just a big flirt!”?
Does God see me when I’m trying
to scrape that old gum off the couch?
Does God see when, sometimes in seconds,
I go from “loving mom”
to “screaming grouch”?!?
I try to always keep my cool, God,
I really, really do…
but some of what I deal with from my kids
would even be trying for You!
Sometimes I wonder what God sees
when God thinks to look at me…

God whispers to me, “I see it all…,”
and then in my heart I hear God call,
“You are my Beloved…

…even when you’re frazzled and crabby!
But keep breathing–you’ll make it,
and remember–all shall be well….”

What does God see
when God looks at me?
Does God see my heart stop
when my baby screams?
Does God see I feel the same
whether she’s five or fifty-eight–
when I know my child is hurting, God,
my heart just breaks…
Do You see, God, how deeply I long to shelter
my child from life’s pain?
Yet I know that if I somehow succeeded in that,
there’d be more loss than gain…
While no one wants to go through hard times,
it seems to be how we learn best…
Does God see me pray for my child,
for strength & wisdom when facing life’s tests?
Sometimes I wonder what God sees
when God thinks to look at me…

What does God see
when God looks at me?
Does God see the pride that fills me
from my head to my feet?
Does God see the delight I feel
when I hear kindness in my son’s words?
when there’s compassion in his actions?
when genuine caring is felt and heard?
Does God see the disappointment I feel
when he chooses to do wrong?
and how I pray for courage for him,
to do the right thing and not just “go along”
with his friends, without thinking,
just part of the crowd…
God, help him be true to himself…
If not for his own sake,
then, God, please, for mine,
for the sake of my fragile mental health!
Sometimes I wonder what God sees
when God thinks to look at me…

What does God see
when God looks at me?
Does God see me hold in my concern
as I watch her climb that tree?
Does God see the slight sadness in my heart,
though overshadowed by great joy,
when she walks down the aisle in her lovely white dress,
on the arm of that wonderful boy [or girl!]?
Does God see I just want what’s best for my child,
with all of my soul and heart?
I know I can’t live her life for her, God…
I’ve tried my best to give her a good start.
Help me to trust that she’s in Your hands,
that You love her even more than I,
And help me to remember that she belongs to You, God,
that You’re just sharing her with me for a while…
Sometimes I wonder what God sees
when God thinks to look at me…

God whispers to me, “I see it all…,”
and then in my heart I hear God call,
“You are my Beloved…
Your child is my Beloved…
and I have you both in my hands…
Trust me…”

What does God see
when God looks at me?
Does God see my abiding thankfulness
for my family?
Does God see my gratitude
for everything that we have shared?
for all the ways and times and places
that we’ve shown each other we care?
I admit there have been moments, God,
when I’ve wanted to run away,
when it all just seemed too hard,
and I didn’t think I could do it for another day…
But I hung on, I said a prayer,
I took a deep breath, I called a friend…
And I got up again the next morning,
trusting that the rough times would eventually end…
Sometimes I wonder what God sees
when God thinks to look at me…

But here I am, God, still a mother,
and a mother I forever will be.
It doesn’t matter whether my child
is one week old or 103!
I’m an imperfect mom who makes mistakes,
but who hopefully gets some things right–
I hope my child knows he’s loved
when he goes to sleep at night…
I hope she knows she’s cherished and valued,
and that she’s beautiful, too…
And I hope at some point they will know for themselves
how deeply they are loved by You…
That is my deepest and most heartfelt longing;
it’s for that I most fervently pray…
And I have to trust that You will answer that prayer, God,
in Your time and in Your way…
God, sometimes I wonder what You see
when You think to look at me…

“I see YOU, my child!
I see it all…
and to you, my dear one, I continue to call:
You are my Beloved!

I see you as a mom,
trying your best…
Just keep loving that child–
don’t worry so much about the rest!
You are beautiful, you are capable,
yes, you’re grouchy once in a while–
but you’re allowed! After all, you’re human!
And that’s a good thing to show your child…
You’re not supposed to be perfect–
that was never part of my plan.
I only want you to be you,
as courageously as you can!
Don’t be afraid, my dear one,
to be who I made you to be!
Accept my Love deep within yourself,
and you will truly be free–
Free to love and accept your child,
and who she is at her very core…
That’s the best gift you can give your child;
he couldn’t ask for anything more!

You ask me what I see in you
when I look your way?
I see a beautiful, capable woman
to whom I continue to say,
‘You are my Beloved!’
Hear it…Let it sink in…Accept it…
and go love on your child!”

I hear it…and I let it sink in…and I accept it:
I am God’s Beloved!

Awesome. 🙂

And you are God’s Beloved!
Let’s go love on all of our kids!!

Happy Mother’s Day!

He makes me lie down

by Rev. Deb Worley

“The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.

He makes me lie down in green pastures….”

(Psalm 23:1-2)

“He makes me lie down…”

I have been struck by that phrase for years. In fact, I looked back last night at something I wrote in April 2017 about it, and it felt surprisingly relevant to our current COVID experience….

I’d like to share that reflection here. Here goes:

The 23rd psalm–such a familiar and beloved psalm: “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want….”

Unlike many other familiar Biblical passages, it is, perhaps, a passage that remains most familiar to many people in the language of the King James Bible:

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil,

For thou art with me, thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me….”

Even the rhythm of the words seems to bring comfort, in addition to the assurance that the words themselves convey! It’s a psalm of trust, a song of comfort, a declaration of quiet confidence in the power, the compassion, the benevolence, and the Goodness of God.

There’s one verse in particular, however, that is speaking to me as I read this psalm today. One part of one verse, in fact, that is calling me to deeper reflection:

“He makes me lie down in green pastures….” (Ps. 23:2a, NRSV)

“He makes me lie down in green pastures….” What’s not to like? Lush, green pastures, with pillowy tufts of grass inviting me to lie down and rest. Lush, green pastures, ready and waiting for me to pause, sink down into them, and be rejuvenated.

Of course, God would want, would invite, me to lie down in such a place if God’s purpose was that my soul might be restored (cf. vs 2b)!

Would my soul be restored by, say, lying down in a barren, parched desert? I don’t think so….

Would my soul be restored by resting in a crowded, noisy shopping mall? Not so much….

Would my soul be restored if I tried to unwind in a foreign place where I don’t speak the language or understand the culture? Not likely.

So God, in God’s infinite wisdom, would understandably invite me to stop, to rest, to lie down in a peaceful place, a comfortable place, a place of obvious restoration. God would invite me to lie down in green pastures….

But wait–that’s not actually what the psalm says–God doesn’t invite me to lie down in green pastures, as it turns out. The psalm says that God makes me lie down in green pastures….

Hmm….Why would I resist resting in a peaceful, comfortable, restorative place? Why would I have to be made to lie down in green pastures??

Today [mind you, this was April 30, 2017!], I find myself considering the idea of being made to lie down, of being forced to rest, of having no choice but to accept a period of inactivity and stillness–all of which seem to imply some sort of resistance, some degree of reluctance, some level of unwillingness on the part of, well, me….

Where might that resistance to “lie down” come from? Does it come from me not wanting to stop doing what I’m doing? Does it come because I’m afraid I won’t know who I am or what my purpose is if I stop doing what I’m doing?

Where might that reluctance to rest come from? Does it come from me being comfortable where I am? Does it come because the place where I’m being made to “lie down” seems somehow uncomfortable?

Where might that unwillingness to be still come from? Does it come from a feeling that it’s not okay to not be active? Does it come from an impression that it’s a sign of laziness and/or selfishness, or something similarly unacceptable, to not be busy, or productive, or useful, all the time?

Why would I resist resting in a peaceful, comfortable, restorative place?

Why would I have to be made to lie down in green pastures??

Maybe, from my perspective, the place where God wants me to “lie down,” to be still, doesn’t look like green pastures at all, but more like an empty, parched desert–lonely…uncomfortable…too quiet…devoid of water and life… Or maybe, from where I stand, my assigned place of inactivity appears more like a shopping mall–noisy…crowded…overflowing with too much stimulation…. Or maybe, the place that God knows will be “green pastures” for me feels for all the world like a foreign land–a place totally unknown, with practices I’m not familiar with and a language I don’t understand….

Perhaps it feels like God is forcing stillness and inactivity on me, that God is making me lie down, in a place that does not seem peaceful, that does not feel comfortable, that does not fit any notion I’ve ever had or could even ever imagine as being the least bit restorative to my burdened soul….

Yet here I am, being made to lie down in green pastures, so that my soul might be restored….

“Clearly, God, You don’t know what You are doing, if You think this—

[desert/shopping mall/foreign land…health crisis/job loss/loved one’s death…

whatever it is that forces us, reluctantly, into a period of inactivity and stillness…]

–is a green pasture!”

…or could it be that we don’t know what God is doing??…and that “this” is, in fact, in spite of what it may look and feel like to us, a place of green pastures, meant for the restoration of our souls??….

Amen.

And peace be with us all.
Deb

When there’s nothing good to thank God for

by Rev. Deb Worley

“Give thanks to the Lord because God is good,
because God’s faithful love lasts forever.”
(Psalm 118:1)

In reading this verse I was once again struck by my tendency to “give thanks to the Lord” not because God is good, but because of my perception that God is good to me. If I’m honest, I have to acknowledge that I want to “give thanks to the Lord” not because God’s love lasts forever, but because of my sense that somehow, that love has shined on me.

But what about when bad things happen? What about God feels absent? I confess that my default tendency in those moments is not to “give thanks to the Lord.” How can I thank God when there’s nothing good to thank God for?

And there it is–when it feels like “there’s nothing good to thank God for,” perhaps I’m missing the point of giving thanks. As a person of faith, I’m invited to give thanks to God because God is good, not because God does or doesn’t do good things for me. As a person of faith, I’m invited to give thanks to God because God’s love is bigger and broader and deeper and more eternal than anything else in my life–good or bad.

As a person of faith, I’m invited to accept the invitation of the psalmist and give thanks to God because of who God is and how God loves. Period.

And you are, too.

May it be so!
Deb