Mourning Into Dancing

“I rise before dawn and cry out for help; I put my hope in Your Word” (Psalm 119:147).

Today I made coffee and shuffled slowly to my prayer chair. Many times I am excited to pray, but sometimes I have to drag myself to the quiet spot in my house where my prayer basket sits next to pumpkin-scented candles and piles of books.

Today I brought fear and insecurity to God. I opened my prayer notebook and told God that I was completely and totally unequipped for anything in my life. I pointed out the stress I felt with my grandmother’s health issues. I unloaded all of my concerns about my lack of quality time with my family this week. I grimaced as I reminded God of my irritation last night with Hugh and how, once again, I swore quickly.

This morning I told the Lord that I was really stressed out. I felt like I have made about three hundred bad mistakes this week. I asked God if He could please show me a plan for my life where I am home every day and have nothing to do but make dinner and pray.

My mind wandered to the things I needed to do. I needed to get ready to go over to Amanda’s house and get her boys so she could get ready for her stepmother’s funeral. I needed to change the bedding from last night’s accident. I should go take a long shower so I have time to shave my legs so I can wear a skirt to the funeral. I need to…I have to…I should… My list is long.

And this is how I usually start praying. I don’t enter my time with God with peace and rest and a heart to intercede for everyone in my life. I just come and fling all my mess at God and point at it and say, “Okay, Lord. Now what?”

But I don’t stay in the mess. The Holy Presence of God faithfully comes in to my inadequacies every time I ask. In a way I don’t understand, His Holy Spirit fills me every time I come to spend time with Him.

My cup is always empty; He always fills.

So I started to read through several chapters of the Bible. As I did, I began to let go of my worries as the water of the Word washed over me. I wrote out some verses; I whispered their words.

He poured Himself all over me as we started to talk about everything in my heart. I felt my anxiety ebb away as faith and joy came in.

Then I jumped out of my prayer chair, worry and fear gone, and I danced around the room in my faded pajamas.

I sang “You reign! You reign!” in celebration that, again today, He has given me His perspective on my life and His strength for my calling.

I left my prayer chair very different from how I came. I came downstairs with clarity and peace. I had clear direction about some hard choices. I had a heart full of His Word. I was once more overflowing with His Spirit, ready again for my life.

My morning with God. Ah…

Lord, thank you for faithfully filling me with Your Presence each time I sit with you. I ask you for to give me more hunger for your Word and prayer each day. I want to live even more fully in You. In the name of Your Son, Amen.

**This is being published at Faith Lifts today. Love, Jess

“And so blessing and cursing come pouring out of the same mouth. Surely, my brothers and sisters, this is not right! Does a spring of water bubble out with both fresh water and bitter water? Does a fig tree produce olives, or a grapevine produce figs? No, you can’t draw fresh water from a salty spring” (James 3:10-12, NLT).

The biggest immediate change that happened in my life when I became a Christian is that I stopped swearing. Instantly. I stopped walking around in my school uniform on the downtown streets of Seattle holding a double espresso letting every word imaginable fly out my mouth. Instead, the desire to swear left completely. It was one of the clearest tangible bits of evidence of the major change in my life. I was now a child of Jesus; here was some fruit.

I have been a Christian for almost sixteen years, and I have noticed something crappy. I might as well say crappy because that leads into my confession:

Somewhere over the last year, I’ve started swearing again. When I’m angry and can’t express it enough with “crap” and “darn”. When I feel frustrated and want to vent my explosive feelings.

The first time I really swore, I felt the strong conviction of the Holy Spirit. It’s like He was as surprised as I was at what flew out of my mouth. I repented half-heartedly later, more concerned with the situation I was angry about.

The next time I swore, I still felt the Holy Spirit speak to me about my words, but I ignored His voice. Again I was still more focused on the things I was upset about.

Then I started to reason with myself. (um… uh-oh.) Why can’t I swear every once in a while? I don’t do anything bad in my life at all… and I need some kind of an outlet. It’s not fair. I’ve cut out a lot of things in my life that I know influence my spirit negatively, things that harden my heart to the Lord…surely just this one little thing doesn’t matter. Besides, it feels good. Like people really listen to me when I swear.

As the months have gone on, it has become easier and easier for me to swear. Words come quickly that a year ago I would never have said. I am no longer shocked. I rarely hear from God about it.

Indeed, my heart is hard. And I only occasionally hear the faintest whisper from the Holy Spirit drift across my heart as I swear. “No, Jess, no,” He calls from across the great divide - a separation I’ve created in this area of my life.

Now I have some serious work to do. I need a soft, repentant heart. I need to be convicted about this sinful habit and ask God to please come in again and bring His conviction.

I’ve started. I’m praying for a soft heart in this area. I’m pausing before I speak when I’m mad. I’m remembering that He listens to me, and I don’t need to swear to have His attention. I’ve told the people close to me that I am working on this.

Enough of this blarney. (ooo! I’m doing better already!)

I don’t want to pursue the Lord in most areas of my life: I want Him in every area. And I don’t want to pick and choose the areas I will be convicted in. My heart must be totally open before Him if He is truly my Lord.

So, this day, Lord, come in fully with the conviction of your precious Holy Spirit. Forgive me for ignoring your voice. Forgive me for choosing sin and anger instead of turning to you for comfort and clarity. I ask that you would give me a completely soft heart before you. I want to be more like you, Jesus - because you are wonderful, and I love you. I want my life to reflect my passion for you. In the name of Jesus. Amen.

Thank you to Shannon at Rocks in My Dryer for hosting the Bloggy Giveaway Carnival. I am very excited!

I am giving away a WONDERFUL PERSONALIZED PRAYER BASKET.

Equipping people to have consistent time with God is something I am EXTREMELY passionate about. Although there are many ways that the Holy Spirit leads and guides us in our time with God, I have found my prayer basket to be a really effective tool for me. Every morning when I pray, I grab my basket and head to a quiet spot in the house to meet with the Lord. Everything I need is right there!

The basket will include:
1. A personalized prayer journal (with different sections…personalized…you will love your journal!)
2. A pack of cards for scripture writing (something to take with you, to put in your pocket, the scripture verse you want to meditate on through the day)
3. An assortment of nice pens and highlighters in a pencil case that fits neatly in the basket
4. A copy of Beth Moore’s “Praying God’s Word”
5. Kleenex (of course)

Please post a comment telling me why you would like the basket, and I will post the winner on Sunday, February 3rd.

If you would like to read about my last Prayer Basket giveaway, click here.

If you would like to read about how I structure my Prayer Notebook, click here.

One final note, If you know me in real life, you can still enter the giveaway! It is open to EVERYONE.

I hope that all of you have a blessed day in Christ and that He will draw you radically into His Presence as you fall more in love with Him and His Word.

Love,

Jess

“Who may ascend the mountain of the LORD?
Who may stand in His holy place?
The one who has clean hands and a pure heart,
Who has not set his mind on what is false…” (Psalm 24: 3-4).

White walls. Friendly college interns who took us to see “Goonies” if we behaved well. Lewd secrets - things that happened when the staff went to sleep and the eleven-year-olds quietly roamed the halls. Smoking - cigarettes everywhere, even the little ones walked around with a cigarette hanging out of their young mouths. Tough, all of us. Broken, all of us. Varying degrees of horror, each story unique in its pain, each child unable to manage life anymore.

I remember staying up late because I couldn’t sleep, trying to read, and instead staring out across the courtyard where I could see the closed-ward children getting ready for bed. I thought my ward was bad enough; what went on in the closed ward?

“You tried to kill your baby brother,” my therapist would calmly say to me twice a day, trying to reach me from the place I had gone inside my head from the moment I walked through the doors. “We know this is true, Jessica. Your mother has given us many examples.”

It would be years before I understood that my mother was seriously ill, that she often moved in and out of reality, and I was frequently the one most hurt from the devastating effects of her mind.

Her tenuous hold on reality manifested one summer with her conviction that I was trying to hurt my one-year-old brother. She told me that I let go of his small hand in a parking lot so that he would run out in front of a car. She had me sit in a chair for hours until I said that this was true.

“Tell me what would happen next, Jessie,” she would say intently, “Imagine the scene after he was hit, what you were wanting to happen, and then describe it for me.”

“Um…” I would start, crying, knowing I loved my brother and didn’t want to hurt him… “Well, the ambulance would come…”

“Yes. And his legs would be completely flattened against the cement, Jess. Say that part. Tell me what you were really wanting to happen.”

I talked and talked until she was convinced I believed her. The really terrifying thing is that I started to believe her, too. Once I was admitted to the children’s mental hospital, I lost my own grip on my soul and slipped away, unsure of what happened each time I was alone with Jonathan.

This has been one of my biggest struggles as an adult: relearning to believe myself. To trust myself. To trust in my own healthy mind.

And the process of doing this is extremely long - much longer than I would like. I want to be done with thinking about these memories.

I wrestle daily with this, crying with my best friend on the phone as I drive to another counseling appointment, yelling at my husband for not understanding my three thousand emotions.

What, really, is the point, Lord? I pray all the time, begging for His voice to speak to me and tell me that I don’t need to do this anymore. That I can forget. That I don’t have to feel.

This morning I read Psalm 24 and the Holy Spirit whispered, “This is why, daughter.”

Psalm 24 describes one of my favorite images in the Bible – ascending to the mountain of the Lord. Oh, to be with the Father. To stand in “His holy place” with a heart free and soul completely alive in the Presence of God.

To get there, the Psalmist admonishes, we must have “clean hands and a pure heart, with a mind that is not set on things that are false.” I’ve always read this as a convicting verse about sin, and I think it is that.

But for me, today, it was something else. I need to have “a mind that is not set on things that are false.”

When I was growing up, my mind was trained to be set on false things. Things that were not true, things that were lies.

However, if I want to ascend to the mountain, to stand in His holy place, then I need a new mind. I need the Lord to come in and show me how to trust His truth and how to discard the lies I am so used to believing.

This is completely possible through the power of Christ. Jesus says that “you are being renewed in the spirit of your minds; you put on the new man, the one created to God’s likeness in righteousness and purity of the truth” (Ephesians 4:22-23).

Once again, all things are possible because of Jesus. I can slowly learn how to believe the truth. I can once more surrender my life to Him because I can trust Him to completely take care of me.

I will exchange the white walls for the mountain of God.

I will exchange the lies for His truth.

I will exchange my pain for His glory.

And I, too, will cry with joyful surrender and a renewed mind:

“Lift up your heads, you gates!
Rise up, ancient doors!
Then the King of glory will come in.
Who is He, this King of glory?
The LORD of hosts,
He is the King of glory” (Psalm 24:9-10).

Lord, thank you for renewing my mind with your Word. Everything I need is found in you. I love you so much, Jesus, and I thank you for your redemption and your Presence. In the name of your wonderful Son, Amen.

Thank you so much for asking me about my prayer notebook. There are very few things I would rather talk about!

I started having a prayer notebook about five years ago. I have definitely gone through many different phases in how I use it, but there are some things that have stayed fairly constant.

1. My prayer notebook is something that makes me happy when I look at it. Whether I’ve decorated the cover of my latest notebook with a scripture or cut out a clipping from a garden maganize, I want to look at it and smile. To connect with it and feel like, “yep, that’s MY prayer notebook.”

2.  I have different sections for my prayers. Sometimes I have ten sections (usually when I am going through a hyper-control-life-phase…oh well) or sometimes just one or two. Then I divide the sections into different things that I am currently learning with Jesus. Here are some of my past sections:

*Intercession (I have a printed-out list of people I pray for every day.)

*Bible Memorization (I print out the current verse/chapter of scripture I’m memorizing.)

*Notes from my Bible reading/A printed out Bible reading plan

*A calendar (This isn’t an exhaustive calendar, but something with a few general things I have coming up written on it. Then I can pray over it and ask God to speak to me about my schedule and priorities.)

*Prayer Structure Sections (I sometimes use a prayer structure to pray like ACTS or Beth Moore’s structure in Whispers of Hope or Becky Tirabassi’s Prayer Can Change Your Life structure. Then I have different sections for the different parts of the prayer structure.)

*Prayer Pages (Many times I just pour out my heart to God and then listen to what He says without using a structure. These are just blank pages where I write out my prayers and write down what I feel like He is saying to me.)

Honestly, Deanna, there are so many more ways to use a prayer notebook. I wish I could remember all the different ways I’ve used mine (I guess I could get them off the top shelf in the living room bookshelves but, ew, I think they’re dusty!).

The main thing I try to keep in mind with my prayer notebook is that it is a tool. It itsn’t something I HAVE to use every day or in a certain way. (My friend Amanda’s prayer notebook looks really different then mine). And that’s the great thing about the Holy Spirit. He’s the Spirit of Wisdom and Revelation (Ephesians 1:17). He’s our Counselor (John 14:16). And He wants to lead us into a very individual plan of prayer. (Bottom line: NO LEGALISM ALLOWED!!! )

I love, love, love having my prayer notebook. I love making it, using it, and looking back over the years to see the faithfulness of God in my life.

I would love to answer anymore of your questions about this. Like I said, I am SO passionate about this and there is nothing I’d rather do than talk about ways we can effectively enter the Presence of God each day and wait to be filled with His strength and joy.

Love,

Jess

“When the Lord brought back the captive ones of Zion,
We were like those who dream.
Then our mouth was filled with laughter
And our tongue with joyful shouting;
Then they said among the nations,
‘The LORD has done great things for them.’
The LORD has done great things for us;
We are glad.
Restore our captivity, O LORD,
As the streams in the South.
Those who sow in tears shall reap with joyful shouting” (Psalm 126:1-5).

I cry all the time. When a man was rude to me in Starbucks last month and told me to move my van because I was blocking him in, I cried. When I hurt a friend’s feelings a few days ago, I cried several times. I cried four different times while watching “Enchanted” on a date with my husband.

Cry, cry, cry.

Sometimes I cry on phone meetings with John. (Bless his heart- what a fantastic small groups Pastor to serve under. He’s always really nice about it, too.). And, of course, I cry all the time with Hugh.

It used to worry him, I think. “Oh, no! You’re crying… Are you o-kay?” Hugh would ask kindly.

But now he is used to my tears. And, for the most part, so I am.

Last night, though, I really cried. I put my red blanket around me on the couch and started sobbing into my old pillow. I kept crying, getting louder and louder in all my vulnerable glory, until Hugh came out from our room and found me in a ball with puffy eyes and a runny nose.

He asked me if I wanted him to hold me. I said I wanted him to only touch one foot, which I poked out of the blanket as I continued to sob.

I cried for over an hour before I was able to tell him why I was so upset. Then, with quieter sobs, I told Hugh I have been praying through some really hard memories this week from my childhood and asking God to show me the areas where I am hurting.

This is not my idea of a good time. I would rather write a funny post about why I want an iPhone, or go out for coffee with a friend, or read to my children.

I really, really, really, really don’t want to be doing this at all. I don’t want to cry about this stuff. I don’t want to remember. I don’t want to feel. I wonder if it would be easier to ignore it all again for the next thirty years.

But then I remember my children. I think about the hopes I have for them. I reflect on the example I want to be for them as a mother and as a follower of Christ. I want them to see that we obey God even when it’s hard because we can trust Him to sustain and strengthen us for what He calls us to do.

I want this to be my legacy. Maybe it will be a legacy sowed in tears, but I will reap with joyful shouting, saying “the Lord has done great things for me”.

This morning I read Ephesians 1:18, which says that “I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened so you may know what is the hope of His calling, what are the glorious riches of His inheritance among the saints, and what is the immeasurable greatness of His power to us who believe, according to the working of His vast strength.”

As I read this, my heart lightened as I once again realized that Christ is in complete control, even when my emotions are all over the place. That I can rest, even while crying, in His hope. I have an inheritance in Him, and He fills me daily with glorious riches.

I may cry again tonight - I’m still in the middle of this season. But I was reminded this morning that I can put my hope in His Word even when I’m in a ball under the blanket.

One day I will get up, dry my eyes forever, and stand triumphantly with a heart fully healed. Until that day comes, though, I’ll continue to keep my eyes fixed on the One who is daily filling me with strength and power for the journey.

…that you could have written yourself.

…that makes you cry and laugh and say, “Oh, God. This was for me. Thank you.”

…then you should link to it.

And there you go.

“…She’s up before dawn, preparing breakfast for her family and organizing her day…”(Proverbs 31, excerpt from The Message).

I sat down this morning to write out encouraging words about parenting. I complained to a friend last night that I feel like I don’t write enough about hope in my blog. “I want to make sure I am putting Christ at the center,” I said, “But sometimes I think everything I write is so…depressing.”

So here it is. A parenting post full of hope.

I had several great points I wanted to make. First, I’ve noticed when I spend quality time with my children, they are in a better mood and are more respectful. Second, when I don’t rush during my day, I have more time to really focus on them.

And I woke up early to write these great points out. Words and phrases were swirling around in my head. I was giddy with the thought of how hopeful my blogging time was going to be.

By 6:45 I was done praying and reading the Word. I had even read my commentary a little (which is on the bottom of my “Time with God” list, even though I love reading it). I flipped up my laptop and opened a blank document. Surely I would have time to write out my parenting thoughts since it was still so early.

I typed one sentence and the door opened. Two sleepy faces appeared.

“Good morning, beautiful children!” I said happily, having just finished praying and drinking a big cup of coffee in my red mug. “Listen, Mommy is going to work on the computer for a few minutes. So go downstairs and get yourselves your milk cups out of the fridge. And then…you can put on a PBS show!”

I was confident that this would buy me the thirty minutes I needed. Surely they would be excited that I was going to let them watch television this early in the day.

They trotted downstairs and I started to write again. “Parenting and Hope….”

Thirty seconds later, a scream. The door opened. There had been conflict over a yogurt smoothie. I quickly resolved it and began writing again.

Two minutes later, the door burst open. A sister had been extremely unkind to an innocent brother.

“Don’t. Come. Up. Again. Unless. It. Is. An. Emergency.” I said, through now gritted teeth.

Fifteen second later. The unkind sister flung the door open.

“WHAT!” I yelled.

The girl collapsed in a puddle of tears and juice box on my feet, inconsolable for ten minutes while my parenting and hope ideas flew far, far away.

And there you go. I hope you were encouraged by my parenting wisdom.

The only hope I have to offer is this:

When you yell at your children, apologize quickly. Because yelling at them is wrong and you wouldn’t yell at your friends, so why yell at your children?

Also, spend time with your children. Maybe first thing in the morning when they need breakfast.

God, I need you every moment as a mom. Please give me joy, love, and patience this day with my three precious children. Help me to laugh with them and find the moments where I can pour You into them this day. In the name of your Son, Amen.