by Cathy Baker | Faith |
While encouraging Piper’s coloring skills last week, the word popped out without warning. I’d promised myself to keep the word Perfect! under wraps, especially with my grandchildren, but there it was in all its glory.
It’s a seemingly innocent word but it can wreak havoc in our psyche if we’re not careful.
From a writing standpoint, this word has left me paralyzed more times than I’d like to admit.
If the “perfect” word doesn’t come to mind, I can’t begin the poem.
If the “perfect” word picture doesn’t happen, how can I finish the devotion?
And on and on.
So pages of uncompleted work scribbled between two thin blue lines remain scattered among our library, shelved by perfectionism.
Perhaps it’s for this reason I can’t get enough of Emily P. Freeman’s book, A Million Little Ways. Asterisks, underlined words and phrases, Wows!, and several exclamation marks find their way on practically every page. Yes, it’s that good.
One favorite chapter Offer includes this wisdom:
When I hoard my gifts and my gifting under piles of doubt, perfectionism, and demand for appreciation, I forget the six pots in Cana filled with dusty water, the ones holding nearly thirty gallons each. I forget how Jesus takes small offerings and turns them around to glorify his Father.
A salty splotch of water mingled slowly with underlined words as I read this paragraph for a second time. Never had I associated my perfectionism with hoarding God’s gifts. All along, I’d considered my finished piece of work as an offering to the Lord—but now I see it’s because of Christ’s finished work that I can find rest in offering my best, but far from perfect work, for His glory.
If you’re struggling to climb out from beneath piles of doubt, perfectionism, or a demand for appreciation, I would welcome the opportunity to pray for you (and ask that you pray for me, as well.) I have a feeling we’re not alone on this journey!
And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ. Philippians 1:6
by Cathy Baker | Faith |
Hand me a staff and cloak ’cause I’m feeling like Moses today.
Remember Exodus 4:10-12?
Moses said to the Lord,
“Pardon your servant, Lord. I have never been eloquent, neither in the
past nor since you have spoken to your servant. I am slow of speech and
tongue.” The Lord said to him, “Who gave human beings their mouths? Who makes them deaf or mute? Who gives them sight or makes them blind? Is it not I, the Lord? Now go; I will help you speak and will teach you what to say.”
Recently, I was asked to lead a workshop, Writing to Heal, for a one-day retreat specifically designed to minister to parents who’ve lost children.
I’ve journaled for years but I thank God I have no experience in this specific area of grief. Soon after accepting the opportunity, concerns began cropping up. What do I say? How can they relate to me? Where do I begin?
I feel so inadequate. And the truth of the matter is, I am.
But while studying Exodus 4 this morning, six words climbed from the Book and curled up snug against my concerns: Now go; I will help you…
My responsibility is to prayerfully prepare while resting in the knowledge that it is through my very weaknesses that God will be strong, and above all, glorified.
You will be known by your adequacy. God will be known by your inadequacy.
Cal Jernigan
Is God calling you to do something outside of your comfort zone today? Please share so I can be praying for you and I appreciate your prayers as well!
by Cathy Baker | Faith |
Earlier this week I came across a puny piece of paper with the words Sacred Rhythms: Arranging our Lives for Spiritual Transformation scribbled sideways. I don’t recall jotting them down but I’ve no doubt as to the Prompter.
Although I’m only half-way through my latest Kindle download, I appreciate how Ruth Haley Barton tenderly sifts through the truths of spiritual transformation, slowing her reader down to receive fresh approaches to prayer and engaging scripture.
As a goal-oriented person, my tendency is to feel gratified after reading through set chapters of the Bible in order to finish it in a year—but is that to be my end goal? Reading through the Bible in a year? Don’t get me wrong. Doing so is beneficial for us all on many levels and I’m glad I’ve done it (even that sounds like a ✓ – sigh!), but as I often share in our community group, it’s never about information—but rather, transformation.
One of my favorite verses is Jeremiah 15:16:
When your words came, I ate them; they were my joy and my heart’s delight, for I bear your name, LORD God Almighty.
When a meal is enjoyable we naturally slow down, savoring each bite. In the same way, Ruth suggests reading only six to eight verses, which increases the likelihood of ingesting the Word rather than simply reading them. In Sacred Rhythms, she provides questions to ask God and ourselves as we move through the verses. This does not replace our need for indepth studying of the Word. It’s simply one more way we can engage God via scripture throughout the day.
As we look ahead to 2014, I hope we’re found having God’s Word at the top of our reading list. The Holy Spirit longs to reveal this Word that is living, active, and sharper than any two-edged sword, but we must access it. Whether by chunks or bites, it matters not. Just do it — for it is our joy and heart’s delight.
So as we begin this new year, in addition to the Bible, what’s your first read of 2014?
by Cathy Baker | Faith |
Mr. Rice was a close friend of my grandparents and the local elementary school principal way back when. He’d often stop by their home for a quick visit, to the delight of my grandparents. My reaction as a seven year-old, however, was quite different. I’d make a run for the bathroom, lock the door, and sit on the edge of my grandparent’s pink tub until I heard his old pick-up crank. He was as nice as they come, but he had a habit of pinching my cheeks so hard they’d leave marks on my face for minutes. His pinches spelled P. A. I. N. and I wanted no part of them.
Yesterday morning, I turned the radio off, peeled back the roof and talked with the Lord on my way to church. At one point, when asking for forgiveness, the word “lazy” spilled from my lips. It caught me off guard. So much so that I proceeded to say “Well, I don’t know if that’s the right word or not, Lord. I hope it’s not.”
Fast forward about an hour.
Our pastor, Jason, was speaking PREACHIN’ on discipleship. It was the best sermon I’ve ever heard on the subject and we’re only in our first week of the series! At one point, when sharing why some lack the transformation desired in their lives, he asked Could it be that you’re simply lazy? (I can’t quote it verbatim because I was too busy thanking the Holy Spirit for making it perfectly clear that I HAVE been lazy in certain areas of my walk with the Lord.) It’s not something I wanted confirmed, but I desperately needed a pinch of clarity and conviction.
Like Mr. Rice, the Holy Spirit’s pinches can unleash a sharp pain. Not physically, but spiritually. His pinch, however, always spells L.O.V.E.—even when it hurts—for His pinches also leave a mark. An indelible mark. The mark of Christ.
For the Lord disciplines the one he loves…
Hebrews 12:6
The gospel is not opposed to effort [spiritual disciplines, serving, etc.] but it is opposed to earning.
-From today’s sermon
by Cathy Baker | Faith |
What specific things are you praying for these days?
Last minute cries for help, a meticulous list of needs, or an unexplainable groaning from within—God hears the prayers of His people. Add specificity, and we’re given an opportunity to witness our God’s awe-inspiring attention to detail in action.
One of those moments came for me this week while peering out our window, curled up in my prayer chair. I was sharing with the Lord how I’d not sensed His presence as much in recent weeks, even though I was confident He was there—whether I felt it or not. Nevertheless, like any daughter desiring to feel closer to her Father, I made a simple but heartfelt request: “Pappa, I just want to know You’re near.”
Before catching my next breath, a brief but blustery gust of wind swept through the trees just outside my window pane—without disturbing another tree in my yard.
To many, a ten-second gust of wind would simply appear as our season’s signature. To me, however, it was a specific answer to prayer—a Father reminding His daughter that through His Holy Spirit He is always but a breath away.
What specific answers will you be watching for this week?
Pray specifically. Trust fully. Watch expectantly. Praise quickly.
