Revival

"And then an old woman I knew as Aunt Cordie gathered me up without asking and sat down in the rocking chair and held me and let me cry. She had on a coarse black sweater over a black dress that reached to her shoetops and a black hat with little white and blue flowers on it there in the dead of winter. I can remember how she seemed to be trying to enclose me entirely in her arms. 'God love his heart!' she said. 'Othy, we’re going to take him home.'"

Thus begins a new chapter in the life of little Jonah Crow, or Jayber as we will later know him.  Today is the start of the fall book study with my friend Michele Morin! Join me for lively discussion over at her site: MicheleMorin.wordpress.com, 

 where we are reading Wendell Berry's book, Jayber Crow. The rich character descriptions in this fictional memoir-type story drew me in from page one.  But even as the small town setting reminded me of my own little village in Wisconsin, it was the memory of how someone stepped in to hold a little grieving boy that touched my heart so deeply this week. Little Jayber had suddenly lost both of his parents, and when he wasn't even sure how to process his grieving, along came an older aunt who stepped in and swooped him up.  


Aren't we all needing to be picked up and gathered close during the hard times of our lives?

On days when the foundation beneath my own feet feels like a swinging bridge, I find myself grasping for good words--hopeful words that speak a lifeline to a stronger way of living. This past weekend I joined in for a simple journaling and crafting time on Instagram at #septgluebookparty17 (thank you for your inspiration Gayl Wright.) It's a way to make a collage, by following a simple prompt to look for pictures and words from magazines or artwork that can fit together to express the thought.  When the first prompt was "favorite fall colors," I happily picked colors and images and words that leaped off the page for me.  When I was finished with my own page, though, I was surprised at the message before me:

Revival?

Could this be a word

of hope

pointing to a

renewed

strength

coming to my life?

Eagerly I began the new week, and wearily I collapsed

yet again.  When I read the words of little

Jayber Crow, I heard my own 

Life-Giver

calling me to climb into His lap.

He was indeed speaking 

REVIVAL

but not in the way 

I had first envisioned.

My weary frame revolted

And squirmed at the thought of

Required rest again

Why now? I cried when

I thought Revival was the word.

                                       

Revive these legs! I envisioned

Strength required when I looked

Ahead to fuller days

Why not? I cried when

I thought Revival was the word.

 

Revive these arms! I hungered

Work to be restored as

Plans could be fulfilled

Why not? I cried when

I thought Revival was the word.

 

Revive this frame! I sought

Fresh energy covering for

Tasks laid long aside

Why not? I cried when

I thought Revival was the word.

 

Revive this heart! He gave

New Love for God alone in

Father’s heart to mine

Why here? I cried when

He spoke Revival over me.

 

Yes here, Yes now,

Taste and See

Rest in this Love

Let ME hold you

And speak Revival over you.

--bg

 "His pleasure is not in the strength of the horse,
    nor his delight in the legs of the warrior;

the Lord delights in those who fear him,
    who put their hope in his unfailing love.

Psalm 147:10-11 NIV 

Revival? Oh, yes, He is reviving my heart. 

He delights to bring new hope

of His unfailing love.

If you are interested in finding a copy of the book, and reading along for the discussion, you can find a copy of the book here:

Jayber Crow, by Wendell Berry  

I am linking this week with these great bloggers:

Suzie Eller, #LiveFreeThursday 

Debbie Kitterman, #TuneInThursday 
Barbie Swihart, #Glimpses 
Meg Weyerbacher, #TeaAndWordTuesday 

  

 

The Holiness of Grace

Some days breakfast with your devotions is a great idea. Other days, not so much.  Especially if the devotions you are reading are on your tablet, and the phone rings, and your oatmeal . . . well, you get the picture. Thankfully my keyboard has dried out enough that only a couple keys still remain sticky!  

I'm a mess, and I know it.

 Do you ever feel that messiness when you look at yourself? 

This Chronic Illness journey has taught me more about the state of my own "messiness" than I ever thought I could understand.  It seems that there are days that no matter how hard I try, I just can't "cut the mustard," as we used to say in my childhood small town.  


It wasn't always this way. People depended on me to be the strong one--the one who could be faithful to the end, and responsible to her core. And when I was thrown into situations beyond my understanding, I knew that in order to survive, I would have to find my strength in God's strength.  And He came through for me, for our family, again and again. He let me walk through troubled water, and through places and events that made no sense. He let me walk through places of Silence, when I doubted I would ever hear His voice again.  

He let me 

           voice my questions

                     share my struggles

                              come to the end of myself

And then He met me there to show me how He had never left my side, and was walking with me all along, through all of my doubting.

But what happens when God lets you know

that the path you are entering

is one where He will not

make you stronger?

In fact, walking the pathway

means that you

will become weaker?

Will my heart contain the

trembling?

Will my soul bear the

frailty?

 

I have been reading C.S. Lewis' Till We Have Faces, as part of the online Book Study that Michele Morin is hosting at her site, Living Our Days. This week, while I am still absorbed in watching Orual's teacher, "The Fox" express his own heart, a continuing theme that keeps running throughout the story would not leave my mind. The book is a re-telling of the myth of Psyche, told through the eyes of the Princess Orual, Psyche's older sister. When Orual is approaching the end of her life, she begins our story with the very theme that has been filling my mind: she is angry at the gods, and she is convinced that the gods, themselves, hate her. 

Orual is someone who has never experienced any of God's Grace. 

I was someone who took that very Grace for granted.

But several years ago, when I stepped out of my comfort zone of Grace-filled-situations, and journeyed alongside those who had never known the comfort of Grace, my eyes began to open, and my heart began to feel how this very GOD, who is so dear to me, could feel too large and too HOLY for a mere human to approach.


From her earliest days, Orual had a fear of the gods, but when she was confronted by a situation beyond her control, and set in the room with the priest, who demanded horrific things of them all, Orual says, "the room was full of spirits, and the horror of holiness." 

My mind immediately knew that she was facing the darkness from the enemy of our souls. But then my heart remembered my own

eye-opening relationships, and my journey alongside those who had never known the God of Grace.

And I felt in my own soul

         the overwhelming bigness of a God that I could not approach,

                  the horror of a HOLINESS that contrasts

                             the messiness within my own soul.


Even if I looked into the longing of my heart for 

        SOMEONE bigger than myself,

                how could my trembling heart ever face HIM?


And yet . . .

Worship the Lord in the splendor of his holiness;
    tremble before him, all the earth.

Psalm 96:9 NIV







These very words from our God, 
Himself, 
speak to the
trembling
that my weak soul 
now carries.
But it is this very weakness
that has moved HIM
to compassion.

  

Here in this place of weakness,
I know that I have
NOTHING
to offer the God
who created
everything I see.


But He opened Heaven
and gave me everything
when HIS LOVE
sent Jesus.


I can no longer accept a
CHEAP GRACE.
my JESUS 
gave Himself,
the only
ONE,
who opened a way
for me to step into
the Holy Place. 



"For it is from God alone that you have your life through Christ Jesus. He showed us God’s plan of salvation; he was the one who made us acceptable to God; he made us pure and holy and gave himself to purchase our salvation"

1 Corinthians 1:30 TLB 


This path set before me?
I can say,
as I have never known before,
that these words hold new meaning
for me:

 "But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me."
2 Corinthians 12:9 


Where are you
on this path marked by Grace?
Are you in a place
that reeks of the 
"Horror of Holiness?"

There is a way
for you, my friend,
to plunge into that Comfort of Grace.

Jesus is that ONE,
and He longs to give
God's Grace to you as well.

If you are interested in checking out all of the posts pertaining to the book study of C.S. Lewis' "Till We Have Faces" you can find an index by clicking here.

 

I'm linking this week over at:
#TellHisStory, Jennifer Dukes Lee 

The Stillness of Poetry

"Sun of my soul, thou Savior dear,
it is not night if thou be near:
O may no earth-born cloud arise
to hide thee from thy servant's eyes."

--John Keble 

What is it about poetry that causes my mind to stop its whirling spinning and to hear with my heart? In the same way that music goes to a deeper level into my soul, I believe that poetry touches something intimate and bare in the depths of my being. And when music and poetry collide, as in the stanza shared above, taken from the hymn John Keble wrote, Sun of my Soul, Thou Savior Dear, then my heart drops all of its defenses and peers into eternity.

 Or even a re-working of an older hymn as here, 

In this Season of Stillness that has begun my 2017, I heard God whisper to me to slow my reading even as my days have slowed. I did not think that I liked that thought! After all, last year, my spinning mind craved words, and I read more books than at any other time in my life. Nevertheless, I followed my Lord's promptings and finished up several books that had been in my Kindle list, and have been working on the reviews that I had promised to share.  In the meantime, a lovely blogger who fills her posts with beautiful and encouraging book reviews, put out an invitation to join her in an online book study of C.S. Lewis' Till We Have Faces starting this week, over at her place: Michele Morin's site, Living Our Days.

And that same Whispering Voice stirred in my heart to know that here would be a place I needed to settle in and rest my Stilling heart.

I have loved and read many of C.S. Lewis' books, and in fact had borrowed this very title from a dear friend several years ago. He encouraged me to read it, and hold onto it for as long as I wanted, because he felt it was such an important read for me. I don't know why I kept putting it off, but perhaps God knew that I needed to be in this place of stillness before I would be able to hear the poetry that Lewis' words would ignite in my soul.  This is a retelling of the Cupid and Psyche myth, C.S. Lewis' own favorite of all of his books, and one that has already swept me up into his epic storytelling.

The two main princesses in this tale, Orual and Psyche, are revealed within the first chapter. The Greek slave, "The Fox," bought by their father to be their teacher, is however, the one who stole my heart in the beginning pages. One who professed much of the Philosophies and Rational thinking, he had a poetic side that was actually the heart he followed. Early on, he shares a Greek myth with Orual, and is quick to add:

"Not that this ever really happened. . . . It's only lies of poets, lies of poets child."  

Orual saw behind his facade and spoke:

"It was always like that with the Fox; he was ashamed of loving poetry ('All folly, child') and I had to work much at my reading and writing and what he called philosophy in order to get a poem out of him. But thus, little by little, he taught me many. Virtue, sought by man with travail and toil was the one he praised most, but I was never deceived by that.  The real lilt came into his voice and the real brightness into his eyes when we were off into Take me to the apple-land or  

The Moon's gone down, but

Alone I lie."

 And, suddenly, in only the first chapter, my heart of Stillness was beating with a longing for more of the intimate words that poetry stirs. 

Why is it so hard for me to
still my mind
even as my body 
has been stilled?

Why have I "allowed myself"
to savor the sweet fragrance
of poetry
only as I lie awake at night
longing to find peace?

What if this very
stillness
is the place
that God's true
Poetry of Love
can be 
tasted?


"But the closer I am to You, my God, the better because life with You is good.
    O Lord, the Eternal, You keep me safe—
    I will tell everyone what You have done."
Psalm 73:28 (The Voice) 



God Moves in a Mysterious Way, by William Cowper 

"God moves in a mysterious way
His wonders to perform;
He plants His footsteps in the sea
And rides upon the storm.

Deep in unfathomable mines
Of never failing skill
He treasures up His bright designs
And works His sovereign will.

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take;
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy and shall break
In blessings on your head.

Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust Him for His grace;
Behind a frowning providence
He hides a smiling face.

His purposes will ripen fast,
Unfolding every hour;
The bud may have a bitter taste,
But sweet will be the flower.

Blind unbelief is sure to err
And scan His work in vain;
God is His own interpreter,
And He will make it plain."

Have you tasted a sweet gift of Poetry lately? Or perhaps you have a favorite work by C.S. Lewis?  I would love to hear your comments as you share your thoughts!  And even though I feel that I may be "out of my element" by joining in with an Online Book Discussion Group while being such a Newbie to this world of Blogging, my Stilling Heart is longing to hear the poetic sharing about such a great storyteller as C.S. Lewis.


Here is an index for the series on C.S. Lewis' "TILL WE HAVE FACES"  book study. Within each post, I have included the link for that week's discussion led by Michele Morin at her site.

Post 1: The Stillness of Poetry 
Post 2: The Holiness of Grace 
Post 3:  Breath of God
Post 4: Eternity in our Hearts and in our Eyes 
Post 5: Love or Self? 
Post 6: Surprised by Love
Post 7: Unlocking the Heart 
Post 8: Die Before You Die
Post 9: The Face of Love

I am linking this week over at

#TellHisStory, Jennifer Dukes Lee