Lead, Kindly Light

A reader (and friend) passed this prayer on to me today – and I pass it on to you. It’s a good way to start (and end) any day:

Lord, You are everything to me. Thank You that I can walk each moment with You and not have to figure life out on my own. And when I come to a dark time, I can put my hands in Yours and depend on You as we walk through it together. I know that ‘the upright shall dwell in Your presence (Psalm 140:13)’, and that is where I want to live. For in Your presence I will find healing, deliverance, love and peace, joy and hope.

I just thought I’d get that out there. Because it is so true.

I’ve been reading the Book of Joshua recently, and chewing slowly on some particular verses in chapter 1.

These are some of the instructions and promises that God gave to Joshua after Moses died and Joshua took over leading Israel –

• “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go.” (v6)

• “Be strong and very courageous. Be careful to obey all the law my servant Moses gave you; do not turn from it to the right or to the left, that you may be successful wherever you go.” (v7)

• “Do not let this Book of the Law depart from your mouth; meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do everything written in it. Then you will be prosperous and successful.”(v8)

• “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go.” (v9)

I love the repetition and the assurance and reassurance that God issues to Joshua in a message that he is supposed to convey to Israel: Be strong and courageous. Obey Me. Don’t be afraid. Be strong and courageous. Don’t be discouraged. I am with you. These are the things that God knew His people needed to hear in order for them to be prepared for the future that lay ahead of them.

Surely, after following Moses around in the desert and wilderness for decades, the people of Israel had moments of frustration, fear, and doubt about this God Who kept insisting that He would faithfully deliver them into a glorious promised land. And at this moment in history, when God spoke to the people through Joshua, they were approaching the cusp of their future – and drawing near in time to the moment they had all been waiting for. But only God knew that; there was no way that the people could have predicted the exact time when God would make good on His promises.

So God encouraged them with these words, seasoning their hearts so they would be prepared for what lay just ahead. Notably, three times in four verses, God reminded His people to be strong and courageous (with the occasional variant exhortion to be “very” courageous).

When I read this passage, and reread it, I felt like God was trying to tell me the same thing: especially the part about being strong and courageous, not being discouraged, and not turning to the right or to the left away from the path on which He has directed me. I’m about to graduate and enter a new phase of my life in the next six months, and like the Israelites, I don’t know quite what lies ahead of me. I think I have a pretty good idea of the general direction in which I am to go, but anything past half a year looks blurry, and as time keeps marching on, I too step day by day toward an abyss of unknowns.

If I don’t think about it too much, the future is okay by me. As time passes I keep moving forward with the air of an ignorant something that approximates either bravado or resignation to fate – depending on the day. But other days, I grapple with anxieties about what my tomorrows hold – with regard to ministry, family, friends, health, faith, and all sorts of other things with which our lives are built. Dwelling too long on the anxiety and giving in to worry is not what God intended – but neither is lackadaisical complacency.

So this chapter – Joshua 1 – was powerful in that it struck a chord that rang true in my soul. God wants us – God wants me – to keep walking toward the future with courage. Courage is what makes us more forward with expectation and hope, with open hands seeking God’s direction, rather than closed hands clutching on safety nets or clinging to our own visions and objectives. Courage deals with tragedy through acceptance of God’s will and a soul that cries to God for aid, rather than allowing pressure to yield an irreparably broken spirit. And courage is special because it is more deliberate than resignation, more humble than bravado, and more faith-filled than fear.

I guess at the bottom and at the heart of what God was telling Joshua to tell the people was a message akin to this: Walk with Me, follow Me closely, and don’t worry about where I may lead you – because I have it all figured out, and I love you and I will not leave you no matter what. You can’t go wrong with Me, so even though you can’t understand what I’m doing and why, just believe. Believe in Me, and from your faith you will get courage and strength. Above all, walk with Me, and follow in obedience and faith.

The message seems so simple, yet in practice it can be really hard to stick to. But it’s a good aspiration. I want to walk with Jesus and live with the strength and courage I know He can bestow – if only I could stretch out the hand of my heart and receive the faith that He wants to give me.

I should preface this with a clear acknowledgment that I grew up in a good family – I really am blessed with two wonderful parents, and a generous and caring brother. That having been said, I feel compelled to uncover another truth: that our family is somewhat dysfunctional and has long struggled to stay together, especially emotionally. Even the ties that once were strong have gone through cycle after cycle of fraying and mending, tearing and taping.

A prime example comes from Big Brother. I grew up idolizing my big brother. He took care of me when I had nosebleeds as a kid, he bandaged up my cuts, and he played with me from time to time. Mom never let him dismiss me as a pest, so he even let me tag along for all sorts of things without putting up too much of a fight when we were kids. He has an innately more gentle and well-behaved spirit than my own naturally rebellious one, which is why it’s a good thing that my parents had him first: I would have been a terrible example as a big sister.

Historically, our relationship has been a bit bipolar. From the outside looking in, we have a pretty good relationship, and we count as siblings who are “close.” But the two of us would deny such a rosy view; we both know that our relationship has been marked by high highs and low lows. On one hand, we care enough about each other to write handwritten letters to each other – even amid the incredible time demands of law school and medical school… but at the same time, we have gone weeks – and even months – without conversing. There was one summer when I didn’t hear from my brother in so long that I literally forgot that he existed.

What grew out of this disjointed communication style was an ever-widening chasm between our understandings of who the other person really was. I grew increasingly impatient with my brother, for I could not understand the person he had become during his medical school years. He, in turn, grew increasingly frustrated with me, for I went off to law school and likewise changed into a person he didn’t quite recognize as the sister who used to follow him around. We actually went an entire year without seeing each other, not out of deliberate avoidance, but out of complacency – which is probably just as bad. When we did meet up in the City for a weekend, we had a fun time, but it took a while to get adjusted to this person before me. I felt closer to some other “brothers” I had met in law school than I did to this man, my blood brother.

And yet, my longing to connect with my real Big Brother was just as strong as ever. I just didn’t know how to reconnect. At the end of the weekend, and actually in the airport, we had a long and bitter argument about evangelism and social justice. I write this hesitantly and blushingly – for it is embarrassing to admit that we, two self-professedly striving Christ-followers, would have what almost amounted to a yelling match, about issues dear to our Lord’s heart. I don’t want to admit it, but there it is. Sinners we are, and saved only by grace.

After that weekend, Big Brother and I had trouble connecting. We didn’t really resolve it, a classic error that runs through our blood. In our family, we have trouble with confrontation about personal issues; we can spar and battle over matters that are far enough removed from us (e.g. politics, faith, current events, culture, etc), but once the subject matter hits home territory, we clam up. As a result, we struggle to unveil our true opinions and feelings about each other, to each other. That’s a problem, though, because that veiled tiptoeing ruins relationships. And time after time, the four of us ripped the fabric of our familial relationships by failing to address the concerns that burden our hearts most. Trapping it all internally, where we think it is safe because it makes us suffer alone, we actually fan a flame that only burns brighter and more furiously as time goes by.

The summer passed, and both of us went through somewhat major life changes – but we didn’t share them with each other, save through the occasional letters that flowed between us from time to time, and through the quick voice messages that we left for each other more as formalities than gifts of substance. By the time we reunited at home in the fall, I was bitter about how little he knew about the pains and triumphs I’d experienced in the summer – and I resented not having had the opportunity to participate and share in the great joys that developed for him during the intervening time.

This last Monday at Bible study, a dear sister prayed for our family. She prayed that our relationships would heal, and that God would especially work on me – to help me look beyond the first, second, and third layers of hurt, disappointment, and fear… and to remember the love that still lies at the core of relationships that the four of us share. The Spirit works fast sometimes, and I was convicted to call my brother (for the first time in at least a month) later that evening. I had sent him a couple letters in the interim, but it had been a while since I had rung him to see how he was doing and hear his voice. As usual, his phone went to voicemail, and I was disappointed, but I left a message and told him to call me back. It’s what I always say – but I don’t ever really say it with much expectation.

He did call me back, however, and later that evening, we had the first “real” talk that we had had in over six months, since our visit in the City. It felt really good to honestly communicate with him again, and though it was awkward, it felt very right. My awareness that the two of us are vastly different was still acute, but I could accept those differences more readily since at bottom it seemed that our hearts both realized we needed the same thing: a healed relationship.

We talked again this evening, and I took some risks to share some of the burdens on my heart. He took the risk to ask about them, and to listen attentively and consider what I had to say. I knew that he would disagree with at least some of the things that I said, but I wanted to lay them out there because those things constitute who I am at this time in my life – and he would be missing the real me if I just fed him the lines that he wanted to hear. Big Brother expressed a lot of gratitude for this openness, and responded with a deeper wisdom than I remembered him having. I guess that in our time apart, God had continued His work in Big Brother – the fruit of which was gratifying to witness today.

I’ll hopefully address in a future post two of the questions he posed to me – both of which are incredibly thought- and heart-provoking:

•  Will I choose to trust in the truth of my past experiences and the lessons that they have taught me, or will I choose to trust in the truth of who God is and what the Bible says?

• Ask God – how do You see me? Ask myself – how do I see me? … do the two views match?

After all of this, I had to hang up because I need to go to bed (right after I finish blogging!) – but both of us expressed a deep gratitude to the other for this week’s worth of re-bridging our relationship. We both know we have long needed this, and we are both so encouraged to be moving forward at last toward a stronger and closer bond. I’m so grateful for this – praise the Lord.

This is an old and familiar poem/writing – I agree with most of it, taking exception only really for the part about God being “whatever you conceive him to be.” Otherwise – it’s a pretty good list of ideals.

Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.
Max Ehrmann, Desiderata, Copyright 1952.

…and rushing waters… and babbling waters… and yesterday, He led me by partially frozen waters.

I’ve never lived in a completely land-locked city. Every town has either had a lake (hometown), four lakes (college town), a river (law school town), or two rivers and a bay (future job town). This is quite nice for me, because I have a habit of going down to watersides to contemplate, to pray, and to meet God in a deliberate way.

I don’t know exactly why I’ve chosen water to symbolize my special communion with God and my expression of complete openness to Him – but I suppose in some ways it makes sense. Biblically, water is used in baptism – a symbolic expression of our new life in Christ by faith in His death on the cross. Biologically, water sustains all forms of life – just as Jesus is Living Water and sustains our souls. Geologically, water flows mysteriously and continuously throughout the earth – from mountain waterfall to river to ocean, evaporating up to the sky, then descending as rain and snow, surrounding us as mist, appearing at dawn as dew – God is thusly eternal and omniscient, never ending and always the same–yet appearing and acting in so many different capacities. I’m sure it’s some sum or fraction of these reasons that have led me to seek Jesus especially at particular and special moments by some water’s edge.

Yesterday I walked by the river, contemplating the sermon (on Matthew 26:20-35) that we heard at church. As we enter further into the season of Lent, we are reminded of the events leading up to Jesus’s betrayal, crucifixion, and ascension back to heaven. This week, the pastor discussed Judas – who so often is (and understandably so) the focus of the Easter story. Judas, after all, was the one who betrayed Jesus, so that He was handed over to be killed.

The point of yesterday’s sermon, however, was that we can look at Judas all we want – turn up our noses at him, and echo Peter’s indignant cry – “Surely not I, Lord! Master, I would never betray You!” But in the end, each of us have betrayed Jesus ourselves. We’ve betrayed Him with our undue pride, our hidden motives, our secret unholy thoughts, our anger, jealousy, bitterness, lack of faith, and gossip. And a host of other things. Despite all of this, however, Jesus loves us – because Jesus loves sinners. He died on the cross even though He Himself had done no wrong, so that He could pay the ransom for all the rest of us, and so He could redeem us with His blood.

And if we can just believe in Him, and believe that He is God and have faith in His sacrifice and power to raise us each to eternal life, then our sins will be forgiven and we will be clothed in His righteousness. Not because of anything that we have done, or because we are anything special – but because of God’s infinite grace and love. This is incredible. God knows our hearts and He knows from our birth that we will betray Him, but He does not let sin have the last word. He lifts our souls from their despair and helpless estate, and gives our hearts reason for joy and hope in newness of life.

These are incredible truths, and as I walked by the river, watching gentle ripples lap over thawing ice, I started talking to God – trying to be open and dialogue with Him about everything going on in my life. But eventually, as I ambled along, I fell silent. Not because I had nothing to say, but maybe because I had too much to say: too much gratitude for His generosity of grace and blessing, too many questions that tug in my heart about the unknowns that lie ahead, too strong of a desire to see Him face to face and know Him in a more experiential way.

So I just kept on wandering along the river, letting the sunshine warm my face, feeling my feet pad rhythmically over the uneven muddy earth, keeping my eyes trained on the body of water flowing to my right. And I just walked – with Jesus – in silence. I think it may have been one of the most worshipful times that I’d had all week – not saying anything specific to God, but just being in His presence, being aware of Him, and being still in my heart and silent before Him – contemplating in wonder at this incredible gift of a personal relationship with Jesus, who knows all the sin in me, yet loves me more than anyone else ever can or will.

You might remember my little fruit experiment.  Boy, did these babies turn brown.

In the end, I got what I was looking for…

Temperance in waiting – patience and trust.

A spirit of greater relinquishment – letting things go, letting life run.

Rest in God – we will never be completely comfortable, but He is always with us.

Gentle surprises – things unexpected and previously unimagined can become blessings.

…and I have very ripe bananas, which will make an awesome loaf of banana bread to bring to my hosts in LA next weekend.  🙂

I should be back in the office right now, doctoring my trial openings, fixing up my direct examinations, making my crosses punchier, and retooling my closings for more masterful performance. But I can’t think of anything else. I just got off the phone with someone just now, and I feel so weak and sad inside. Scared, too, because if this is what love looks like, then I don’t know how close I want to get to it.

All around me, friend after friend is getting engaged. Getting married. Having babies. Most of my days, I’m eagerly awaiting my turn too (at least the first two; will have to wait a while on the third), but conversations like this make my heart catch in my throat, and make me wonder whether I’ve just been lucky to be spared the unlucky trappings and traps that love seems to inevitably bring.

See cuz…you find someone, you think they’re wonderful, and they feel the same thing about you. You do weirdo crazy things for one another (like Pastor Dave mentioned this past Sunday, how he drove 45 minutes over to his then-girlfriend’s house to pick her up and take her around on her paper route at 4 in the morning back in high school), and then you get married cuz you’re in love and all that. But…how come that doesn’t last for some people? What changes? What transpires between “I do, for better or for worse, forever I’ll love you and never forsake you until death do us part” and “You don’t love me”?

As an idealist with edges slowly rusting into a cynicism, I still like to believe that marital love conquers everything–for those lucky enough to find it. But even then… I’ve seen how things like disease and death can get in the way of happily ever after–sometimes at a very young age. And for the rest–well, I just don’t know why so often love can’t last. And it especially is jarring when it looks like it’s operational (and it’s so close to you)–but then you get some chance to blow past the wisp of a facade and you find the truth that lies beneath. And that truth turns out to be pretty yucky-looking, to be quite eloquent about it.

I didn’t know how to comfort the person on the other side of the phone, and I didn’t know what to say. So all I could do was pray with her. And as we knelt in our hearts before Jesus, I felt her pain in my own heart, and I felt the tears just flow and flow and flow. Heh – the screen is still looking a little blurry to me now. Lord Jesus, come rescue us from ourselves because we are so weak and helpless. It’s only by Your mercy that we can make it through this journey of life – and only through faith and strength from You that we can pick up ourselves off the ground and keep walking on…and with joy, too, though sometimes I can’t picture it.

Getting such an up-close view of this broken relationship makes me feel like a vulnerable little child again. I sat in a corner on the ground, as I had done in my loneliest moments when I was young (apparently it’s an instinct that still carries with me today), and I felt small, abandoned, and cold. I know that God is watching and that He is taking care of everything even as I type this with a heavy heart – but oh how I wish He would make all things right – right now. Or at least soon. Rather than knowing that we must instead trudge on in the yuckiness, with only dreams of a better tomorrow.

And what of that tomorrow? Seeing this, hearing about it, being closely acquainted with it for much of my life – makes me hesitate about my own future. I know that it’s better to feel both joy and pain, rather than forego both for fear of the latter. But in this moment, feeling such pain inside, I’d almost prefer to be a statue. Almost.

It’s still “almost” rather than “definitely” because Jesus promises that in this world, we will have trouble–but we ought to take heart, because He has overcome the world (John 16:33). And I believe that’s true — that He has a plan to make all things right, and even in this lifetime, amid the brokenness and hurt – He can create beautiful things out of ashes. So there is still hope. I just pray for a special measure of more hope today, and tonight.

… I feel better now – writing is so therapeutic for me. We’ll see if I can gather enough peace of mind to nail down some more progress on my trials now.

My jing ding friend pointed me to this event (coming up on February 13) – and I joined in the movement yesterday when I saw a Sharpie pen at church.

Check it out – and support the Movement! Lifted from the Facebook group’s website –

The truth is that according to the World Health Organization, depression is one of the leading causes of disability, with approximately 121 million people suffering with depression worldwide. The National Institute of Mental Health states that approximately 18 million people suffer from depression in America alone. Depression does not discriminate across age, race, gender, or class. Among teenagers it is estimated that 20 percent will suffer from depression at some point by the time they reach adulthood. There are also as many as 8.3 percent of teens suffering from depression for at least a year at a time, compared to 5.3 percent of the general population.

Insprired by the work of TWLOHA (To Write Love On Her Arms), an organization created to spread awareness for teen depression, self-injury, and suicide, we are coming together to make sure the whole world knows.

During the time of year that suicide rates are at their highest, we chose February 13, the day before Valentine’s Day, as our opportunity to start showing people how much they are loved. We will physically write the word LOVE on our arms (with a sharpie, or whatever other ink suits you best). If someone asks you what it’s for, tell them about TWLOHA. Tell them they are loved, that they are important. And ask if you can write LOVE on their arm as a symbol of that. Don’t be afraid to reach out to those who need love, those who you often walk right by every day. They need our care.

There is NO set time, there is NO set location. Where you are, when you are there, speak out.

Some of us may choose to share the love of God, but we want you to share whatever love is strongest for you. Depression has no boundaries, but neither does our love.

If you wish, you can read the story here.