This week on a phone conversation with a friend, she asked what’s become our custom at the end of our calls: What’s one intimate prayer request I can pray for?
It was probably telling that I didn’t really know.
If you’ve followed this blog for awhile, you know I taught refugees for a handful of years, many of them Muslim–people and a task I adored.
I was surprised to learn a difference between the Bible and the Qur’an: The Qur’an isn’t a narrative, like much of the Bible is. (The Qur’an is laid out more like Psalms or Proverbs.)
Okay, yes, I am this big Enneagram 2, and I am frequently caught “two-ing” in my family—overfunctioning like a crazy person, sublimating any needs of my own, etc.
But I also have this monstrous, flapping-larger-than-my-triceps 3-wing. Which means, for all of you unfamiliar with enneagram-speak, that I am an achiever. Goal-setting can fill my sails (…to the point of what we’ll call “Christian workaholism”).
My mom and I had a good conversation last week–one of those “Oh, that’s how it went down on your side of things” talks.
Groove back with me to around 1993. I’m growing out my formerly-birds-nest bangs. I have braces. Both are just as becoming as they sound. But though there at 13, I’ve been a Christian for eight years, I haven’t been baptized.
Before my husband’s last (pre-COVID) international trip, I realized one of the things I miss most about him.
As he was packing–so methodical, everything in precisely-sized containers, shirts carefully folded over a packing template–I told him quietly, “See, you humanize me.”
Reading Time: 4 minutes
While living in Uganda, my language acquisition developed to an equivalent of that drunken-sailor lurch of a new toddler. That is, my ability to speak resembled lurching, grinning, and occasionally falling on my rear.
And of course just because you can speak a language doesn’t mean you use it in the same ways. I’d occasionally get weird looks for wishing someone Merry Christmas (Seku Kulu enungi!) in December. Apparently Ugandans keep this phrase pretty much for Christmas day.
On the other hand, Omwaka omulungi!–“Happy New Year!”–was wished to me whenever someone would see me the first time in the new year, even if you saw the person in, say, March.
I had to ask a Ugandan friend about what I perceived: Was New Year’s actually a bigger holiday than Christmas?
My friend affirmed this. She explained that to Ugandans, to make it to a new year was a gift they couldn’t take for granted.
Average yearly take-home pay is $12K; average life span when we arrived was 52; risk for infectious disease is considered “very high”. Repeatedly in conversations, Ugandans referred to life as “struggle”.
I’ve thought about that as so many of us laugh about 2020 finally. Ending.
This author makes the case that one of the lessons of 2020 is that, in fact, our ingratitude–“How many things did we fail to recognize as God’s blessings in 2019?”
After a hard year, I’ve tended to have a sense of foreboding, of glass-is-half-empty brand of hand-wringing.
Personally, in my haste to shuck off the loss and grief and polarization of this year, I tend to space the 1,095 or so meals God sat before me. The 36.5 million times or so my heart beat, even as I slept. The fact that I have four living children-turning-adults, running around and creating healthy, generally laughter-filled havoc every day of the year.
And all the delightful, advantageous packages I partake of as a member of the developed world.
That morning by morning, new mercies I see.
I tend to shove some events into the category of “I want to forget” instead of training the eyes of my heart to see God in all that happened. As C.S. Lewis pens in The Magician’s Nephew,
What you see and what you hear depends a great deal on where you are standing. It also depends on what sort of person you are.
Even in those inevitable unresolved areas, their “happily ever after” still unwritten—I can trust he was there. That his faithfulness was indeed great.
And clutching a list of gratitudes, I step with a little more confidence, a little more faith.
In light of this, I’ve scraped together some ideas to help us both thoughtfully start a New Year 2021 with trust.
A note: Before you begin, think about 2-3 “feeling” words that would describe where you’re at right now.
Why? Because it does color how you think. Walking last Sunday, I realized some embarrassment and fear I was feeling from a small (I would have said inconsequential) event that day filtered my thoughts and goal-setting and prayers.
If you’re feeling ambitious or afraid or low, use that knowledge to temper your goals.
Tip: Process these before the below “6 Questions to Look Forward and Set Goals.”
As I read this morning, suffering is key to understanding and reflecting the heart of God (see 2 Corinthians 4:6-18). He knows death is at the heart of love and resurrection.
Interested in taking this deeper? I love the questions in this Annual Examen.
If you’re into this kind of thing, check out 7 Journaling Prompts for a New Year’s of the Soul. Want to explore some life-coaching questions? Consider looking through these.
I personally started with our bedroom, but it felt so good, I kept going. The laundry room and game closet have recently been conquered. Onward!
Need ideas? Grab these ideas to simplify your closet–and these to teach kids simplicity.
Thankfully, I know Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever (Hebrews 13:8). Ask with me for his presence to go in front of us into 2021.
Happy New Year, friends.
New Year: When You’re Hoping for Hope
Parenthood is a Dirty Microwave: Clean Questions for 2020
10 Questions to Take Your Relationship with God Deeper in a New Year
Reading Time: 4 minutes
I’ve shored myself in tonight for something I’ve looked forward to for a month and a half.
For my birthday, my husband got me a personal retreat. And the timing is pitch-perfect. (Well, save the fact that my body seems to have been anticipating the drop of adrenaline, welcoming in a cold.)
I bought myself a tray of sushi worthy of my craving. I packed a candle, and those sinister-looking tools that ultimately should make my feet look like girl feet again. When this laptop closes, folks, I am snuggling into a Sabbath.
But aside from my feet–my goal is to simply be and think and pray. I may not see another human being. (Bonus: I may not clean up after another one, either.)
It was sometime last week that the phrase My heart is so tired floated through my head.
And at last, I don’t have to shelve that temporarily. I will feed it with hot tea and Jesus.
Because sometimes the Christmas hoopla fails to draw me into deeper worship, reflection, appreciation of God. Sometimes I get so hyped up with creating the magic, the party–I miss the Birthday Boy. (You might resonate with Tired-Mom Advent: The Most Wonderful Time of the Stinkin’ Year.)
So for the two of us, here’s a list for reflection and journaling in those quiet moments after the kids have gone to bed, maybe with a cup of that tea, to center in on the real Christmas.
And where we’d be without it.
(I’ve made it printable for you to stuff in the cover of your journal, or to distribute in small groups and churches).
from the Christmas story or prophecies, writing and praying about why it’s meaningful to you right now: God with us. Savior. Desire of Nations. Messiah. Jesus (literally, The Lord Saves). Branch; Root of Jesse. King. Wonderful Counselor.
or Zechariah’s doubt right now? Why?
do I most identify with this year? Why?
How am I most witnessing God’s illuminating light in my life, or how have I seen it this year? Where do I crave it right now?
What do I need to entrust to God’s government right now? What about His future government do I look forward to? (Read more in Isaiah 9:1-7.)
Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. (Isaiah 9:6)
… And the Spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him, the Spirit of wisdom and understanding, the Spirit of counsel and might, the Spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord. (Isaiah 11:2)
How do I sense—and sense my need for—God in these identities of His right now? (Pick one or two of these names, asking God to show Himself in this way through situations sticking in your brain right now.)
What emotions do these words of Mary stir in me upon reflection? What situation does it bring to mind in my own life? Do I need God to create this response in me right now?
He went about doing good and healing all who were oppressed by the devil, for God was with him. What areas of my life hunger for God’s goodness, healing, and freedom right now? Who do I know that needs those this Christmas? (Spend time praying for them, and for what it would look like to love them well right now.)
to be among the clans of Judah, from you shall come forth for me one who is to be ruler in Israel, whose coming forth is from of old, from ancient days.
God seems to love repeating this theme in Scripture over and over—surprising us with the significant emerging from the insignificant, wisdom from what is foolish, strength out of weakness, beauty from ashes, life from death.
Copy or underline phrases that stick out to you; make a list of characteristics of Jesus you find in this passage for reflection.
of ways He’s reminded you you’re written on His hands. (This is a great way to reflect in preparation for the New Year, too.)
Examples:
Reading Time: 3 minutes
After the all-too-recent my-kid-might-have-lymphoma scare? There are some things that have been going right.
For one, after a year of doing my freelance writing and marketing for my only employment, I filed for my own business. I am now the owner of Fresh Ink, LLC. So that’s pretty cool.
And somehow, I’m receiving a windfall of client possibilities and realities I’m pretty excited about.
But something was strange this week: at least two days where I dealt with anxiety. Not panic attacks or anything of that sort–though I know those are real for many people. But more of a low-lying GAHHHHH! That’s not usually me.
Thankfully, I don’t feel like my family is getting the business end of that in any major ways, which is significant for me (and my anger problem).
But I talked to a mentor of mine this morning, also a writer. Paraphrasing my question, how do you know when you’re involved in too many good things?
I think of God’s words to Moses:
What you are doing is not good. You will surely wear yourself out, both you and these people with you. For the task is too heavy for you; you cannot do it alone. (Exodus 18:17-18)
I’ll include his answers below–and you might want to check out The Dangers of Overcommitment, The True Cost of Overcommitment, and Your opportunity…vs. Your Call. (Man. I probably should, too.) I also found a lot of good thoughts in Ruth Barton’s Strengthening the Soul of Your Leadership, which I can’t recommend highly enough.
After living so many years out of the country, I’m amazed at how my American ideals of achievement and performance really do color my interpretations of thriving Christianity. I think too highly of myself. My “ministry “plans can be ego-driven plans. I lack the humility to embrace the limits of my humanity, the boundaries God’s put in place. I find identity in what I do for God, rather than what he has done for me.
So I have to constantly re-center my soul on “Kingdom culture” instead–looking under the hood to check out my warning lights.
Shall we?
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