Category Archives: God’s Nature

Posted on

God’s Thunder

The thunder is rolling outside. One thunderstorm rolled through about an hour or so ago. Now another one approaches.

I absolutely love the sound of thunder. It reminds me of my childhood, watching thunderstorms roll through El Paso, and Casper, and Glorieta. Watching the lightning out the windows and counting the seconds until the crack of thunder. There’s such power in that sound — so you know there’s power in the lightning.

Many nights our first month or so in Delhi we would sit on our veranda, all 5 of us girls, and watch the storms roll across the city.  We were on the 4th floor, with a only a park in front of our building, so we had a good view of our surroundings. As we watched, inevitably someone would pick up the guitar and start playing a worship song. Before long we would all be singing praises to the Mighty God, He who made the thunder and rain. My prayers during those times were that God’s Spirit would sweep across the city like a storm, bright and loud and bringing cleansing rain.

I have a few friends who are deathly afraid of lightning and thunder. I’ve never understood that. To me the sound of thunder is comforting, soothing. Yes, great power is on display — and if you aren’t careful, you could end up on the wrong end of that power. But to fear it? To be frightened at every crack and rumble? I can’t imagine it.

Thunder is a beautiful sound to my ears. Like a great symphony, an amazing guitar lick or — or the drums coming in on Phil Collins’ "In The Air Tonight." I realized tonight how much I missed it when I stepped outside for a moment just in time to hear it rumble. It’s the rhythm that underscores and accentuates the rain. Without it the rain is, well, just wet. But add thunder and you have music. God’s music. Music in which He displays a hint of His power, celebrates life and brings life.

As a child my parents told me that thunder was God bowling. Perhaps that’s where my association with God and thunder began. Somewhere early in my life, however, God whispered to me that it wasn’t His bowling making the noise, it was His celebration of life.

Tonight as I read through the upper Psalms, I was struck by Psalm 99, particularly the first 4-5 verses.

The LORD reigns,
let the nations tremble;
he sits enthroned between the cherubim,
let the earth shake.
Great is the LORD in Zion;
he is exalted over all the nations.
Let them praise your great and awesome name-
he is holy.

The King is mighty, he loves justice-
you have established equity;
in Jacob you have done
what is just and right.
Exalt the LORD our God
and worship at his footstool;
he is holy.

As I read, I heard God whisper, "Think of it. That’s the One who stands in front of you and fights for you. That’s Me — your Lover."

I had always read these verses and believed my proper response should be fear. As I grew closer to the Lord, I couldn’t fit that belief into my shifting paradigm. I’m not afraid of God. I don’t fear Him at all. Yes, I know He’s all-powerful. But I also know how much and how deeply He loves me. He won’t hurt me. Not that I ever want to do anything that would make Him want to. I love Him very much and very deeply. Its the kind of love that so invades my very being that I just don’t want to hurt Him. I won’t allow myself to if I can at all help it. I don’t want to do that to Him.

But even with all that, reading passages of God’s might and how everyone and everything trembles and shakes before Him really left me with a dilemma that I couldn’t resolve: How am I supposed to respond to these verses?

God, in His whispering voice, answered my question, one I wasn’t even asking as I read.

My response can be the same as my response to thunder. I can rest in the comforting knowledge that all that power and might going on around me isn’t going to "get" me — instead, it is going before me. God stands in front of me, my Defender, my Champion; the One who fights for me.

I am such the quintessential girly-girl!! That hit me in the most needed places in my heart. I want to be championed. I want to be defended. I want to be fought for. And to think that all that power and all that might is on display to ward of my enemies, to defend me against attack, to fight for my honor and reputation, to stand between me and those who wish to take me captive… wow!

It’s a subtle shift in context, from looking at God as the Almighty to be feared —  which the Church these days often misnames "revered" or "respected" — to looking at God as the Almighty defender and protector and champion of me, of you, of all those who follow Him. But it makes a huge difference in how I view Him and how I now can see myself responding to passages like Psalm 99:1-4 with gratefulness, love and loyalty to my God.

And as we live in God, our love grows more perfect. So we will not be afraid on the day of judgment, but we can face him with confidence because we are like Christ here in this world.

Such love has no fear because perfect love expels all fear. If we are afraid, it is for fear of judgment, and this shows that his love has not been perfected in us. We love each other as a result of his loving us first. – 1 John 4:17-19

Posted on

Identity – a.k.a. Where’s My Sign?

I’m still wrestling with God. This week its over my identity.

Who am I? What am I?

For me identity is like a sign I wear around my neck. It’s the thing that tells me who I am, tells others who I am and keeps us all straight as to what I was made for. Most of my life my identity has been tied to either my family or my doings. I was the Chaplain’s daughter, the minister’s kid, Nina’s sister (or Paula’s or Vic’s — take your sibling-pick), the "baby" of the family… yada-yada-yada. Later in life it became: I’m a sound engineer in training; I’m a producer’s assistant; I’m an executive assistant; and, of course, everyone knows that every assistant in Hollywood is an aspiring writer/producer themselves and I wore that one well for quite a while. Then I became a missionary. First to Hollywood (in an unofficial, self-named capacity, of course), then for real — first to India with ISC/Caleb Project, then with the IMB.

In the last two years I’ve lost my two major themes of "identity". I’m no longer a daughter of anyone on earth. And I’m no longer an official missionary. I’m not an official anything.

Who am I? Why am I here? What’s my purpose? What’s the point of all this? I’m so lost. So confused. So frustrated.

God spoke. "You are My Beloved. You are My Bride. You are A Crown-Princess. You are Mine."

That’s great. And it’s wonderful in the spiritual realm, but — hello — I live in the physical world. But I can’t wear that sign out in public anywhere. Do you know how crazy people would think I am if I said to the world, "Hi. I’m Lu and I’m a Crown-Princess and a child of the King."

Yeah, right. Watch the white coats come out and lock me up. Count the seconds, see how long it takes.

I need an identity I can wear in public, in this physical world you refuse to let me leave behind, thank you very much. Who am I in this world??

So God tried a different tactic today. He used my counselor to say the exact same thing He’d said last night. That was nice, but He gets no credit for originality.

Well, okay. To be fair, Barney didn’t say exactly what God said. He just created an opportunity to God to say it again. And then for me to repeat God’s words out loud. And then Barney took up God’s side of our fight.

Yeah, I got it. God really wants me to take this sign and wear it.

You know, its one thing to wear the Beloved sign with pride at home, or at Mosaic. But out on the street?? I could maybe see hiding it under my shirt, and walk around feeling like I’ve got this big magic secret that I, and no one else knows, knows and that makes me "special" somehow. Like a secret agent, one identity to the world, but my true identity hidden from view. But that doesn’t seem to be God’s aim here. He seems to want me to wear that big-ol’ sign front and center. Everywhere. Even out in public.

Doesn’t that sound so arrogant to do? I mean, does Prince William walk around with a sign saying "soon-to-be Crown Prince of England"? How big would the tomatoes and eggs we throw at him be if he did?

Yet this is the only identity God will give me. No matter how hard I cry, how much I scream, how hard I work, this is it:

"You are My Beloved. You are My Bride. You are A Crown-Princess. You are Mine."

Posted on

Tussling With God

I spent the night last night like Jacob once did, crying out to God, refusing to give up, arguing my case, spending myself in the struggle. I was not alone. God came. He fought with me. Not against me, but with me.

This isn’t the first time we’ve tussled. We’ve wrestled many times in the nearly 34 years I’ve been walking with Him. But this time was different than all the others. This time I had no intention of leaving Him if He gave me the "wrong" answer. This time I wasn’t threatening Him, or living in fear of Him removing His hand from my life. This time it was a true struggle, an argument involving both of us. I didn’t just tell Him off, I listened to His responses. I heard Him. And I know He heard me. This time it wasn’t about me getting my way. It was about me being able to be honest with Him about how I’m feeling and know that He isn’t going to shut me off, cut me off, or tear me down.

I’m so tired of living this life where I feel it’s not okay to be honest about my brokenness and my feelings, especially my anger — and especially when it’s directed at God. Those who love each other are willing to fight with each other, because they know the strength of their relationship, they know it can stand in the face of strong emotions and another’s resolve. And they are willing to test it, to test each other. Like God tested Jacob’s resolve as they wrested, and discovered Jacob would not be moved, he wouldn’t be discouraged from His pleas, or from his insistence that God deliver on His promises (Gen 32:12).

God proved Himself a faithful Lover. He stayed and tussled with me. He didn’t withdraw in a huff that I would dare address Him so. He didn’t smite me down for being insolent. Instead, He fully engaged in our wrestling match. And He discovered my resolve. He’s made promises. I want Him to make good on those promises. He’s made statements. I want Him to back them up with action.

God’s resolve can be strong. But He can be moved. Perhaps theologians would argue against that. I don’t really care. I know He can be moved. I know He because He was moved by my passion.

I never had any intention when I called Him out of leaving Him, no matter the outcome. And I told Him so. I love Him. Deeply. Passionately. Eternally. With all my heart. I have no intention of not serving Him or rebelling against Him. That is not the point of our tussle. The point of our tussle is honesty. If I cannot be brutally honest with the God who made me, with the Lover to whom my heart belongs, there is no hope of me ever living in integrity in any relationship I have.

For now, our tussle is over. He requested that I let Him go, for it was morning. He honored my request for a blessing… and perhaps I am already limping from a wound from a previous tussle… who knows.

All I know is that God loves me. And I love Him. He heard me out, He had the integrity and compassion to fight with me, and it was all worth it. The sun rose on our battleground and I left knowing I had seen the face of God, and lived to tell the tale. Not because I was better, not because He gave me a break, but because He loves me, He respects me, and He believes in me.

I also know one other thing. He knows my Names. All of them. And now I know one of them. Warrior Princess. For I am a child of the King, and while I’m no match for the Zenas of the world, in my heart and spirit I have the courage, compassion, passion and grace of a true warrior.

I’m going to bed now. I’m exhausted.

And then Jacob prayed, "God of my father Abraham, God of my father Isaac, GOD who told me, "Go back to your parents’ homeland and I’ll treat you well.’ I don’t deserve all the love and loyalty you’ve shown me. When I left here and crossed the Jordan I only had the clothes on my back, and now look at me–two camps! Save me, please, from the violence of my brother, my angry brother! I’m afraid he’ll come and attack us all, me, the mothers and the children. You yourself said, "I will treat you well; I’ll make your descendants like the sands of the sea, far too many to count.’"

….But Jacob stayed behind by himself, and a man wrestled with him until daybreak. When the man saw that he couldn’t get the best of Jacob as they wrestled, he deliberately threw Jacob’s hip out of joint.

The man said, "Let me go; it’s daybreak."

Jacob said, "I’m not letting you go ’til you bless me."

The man said, "What’s your name?"

He answered, "Jacob."

The man said, "But no longer. Your name is no longer Jacob. From now on it’s Israel (God-Wrestler); you’ve wrestled with God and you’ve come through."

Jacob asked, "And what’s your name?"

The man said, "Why do you want to know my name?" And then, right then and there, he blessed him.

Jacob named the place Peniel (God’s Face) because, he said, "I saw God face-to-face and lived to tell the story!"

The sun came up as he left Peniel, limping because of his hip. — Gen 32:9-31

Posted on

Raw Emotion

Larry posted a comment to my last post:

I understand about the Snark-O-Meter going off the scale… I understand about the Rebel taking the point. I even understand about being just plain overdone.

But could you please TELL ME what in the world is going on? WHY is the meter pegged? I’m trying to piece the story together and there just aren’t enough dots to make a coherent pattern.

I’m sure there are others who want to know. And I have no intent to try to stop the rebel. Rebellion is good for the soul as long as it leads to God, and you do have to rebel against much of modern life to get close to him.

Here’s the deal. Everybody’s got rules. Even the Church. Even God. I’m just sick of playing by the rules when it seems that God doesn’t.

Does He get to make up the rules? I guess so. This whole universe is His deal, so I guess the Creator should get to make the rules. But I’m sick of playing by the rules but Him not playing by any.You can say "that’s His right" till you’re blue, but I don’t care anymore. I’m sick of it. I’m angry. And I’m not gonna bury this anger because "He’s God", or stuff it down and pretend I no longer feel it because it’s "not my place" to fight with God, or argue with His "wisdom" or His inaction.

Yes, I said INaction. I’ve been begging God for two years now to give me guidance, direction just some sort of freakin’ clue as to why I’m on this planet. And so far I’ve got jack.

So I followed a couple of my hearts desires — because the more I prayed, the stronger they got. I thought, "perhaps that’s the way God is answering my prayers." Others concurred that might be the case. Now I’m living back in the States, as I desired, living in Nashville, as I desired, and pursuing some sort of freelance-type work in the literary world — writer would be ideal, but in the immediate need I’ll take proofreading or typing or whatever I can find — or perhaps the music world.

Oh, and did I happen to mention that I have no permanent work to take care of my permanent needs. That the work I DO have doesn’t cover but about half my monthly expenses. That the professional I spoke of earlier works in the literary world and his email pretty much crushed my fragile dream-made-from-heart-desires of immediate work in the literary world — and did a powerful number on my ego as well. And all this crap could be avoided if God would just freakin’ ANSWER my pleas for PURPOSE.

So let’s recap, shall we? God sends me half-way across the world to a team so dysfunctional it can’t even stand, then takes my parents to heaven and promptly quits talking to me. Except to say, "I love you." and "I’m here." Well, woo-hoo! Great, tell me how Your love and presence is gonna pay my bills, or satisfy my burning ache for purpose and direction?!

Yeah, I’m mad. I’m so storming mad I can’t hardly see my fist in front of my face. I’ve been begging God for years, Larry, YEARS, for purpose. I just wanna know what the heck He created me for. That’s all. Nothing earth-shattering like why the dinosaurs died, or what black holes really are, or why zebras have stripes and leopards spots. I just want to know why HE created ME.

I’m done. I’m done asking. I’m done playing by His rules. I’m now up in His face demanding. And I don’t care anymore if He "smites" me for my insolence. I’d rather He take my life than live like this anymore.

That’s the short answer. The longer version would take another two-hour conversation, at the least.

Posted on

Structure, Spirit, Submission & Straight-Talk

Mosaic Nashville’s core team met again last night. The original plan was to go over core value # 3,  "Structure Must Submit To Spirit."

Instead, we sort of lived it out as a few details Josh needed to discuss with us took over the meeting and took us to a completely different conversational level, as well as direction… There’s so much to sort through, and some to tell, from last night. I might be writing about this for some time… then again, I might not write about it at all for a while, depending on how much settling occurs of the swirling cogitations going on in my head.

I will, in the meantime, however, share this little gem. Part of our conversation last night went like this:

Jesus: "If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me and for the gospel will save it. What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, yet forfeit his soul? " (Mark 8:34-36)

Josh: I’ve always read this passage and thought, "that’s a sweet idea…. " (pause as Josh considers how to voice his thoughts)

Adria: That’s not sweet. That’s Jesus being a hard-ass.

Posted on

Snow & Sun Roofs

Jesus loves me! It’s snowing!!

I loooove watching the snow fall. Especially this this kind. The light, soft, sometimes big, sometimes small flakes that just lazily make their way down from cloud to ground. Se peaceful and beautiful.

The flurries started while I was still in church and as I sat chatting with some of the tech guys, someone came in a told us it was snowing. I had planned to hang out some and check out all their various sound equipment and rooms, but once I heard about the snow, I decided to go outside and check it out. You never know how long snow will last around here, so ya gotta catch it while you can.

I called Nina on the way home, chattering excitedly about the snow, which was coming down a little faster by then. Once I got home, I realized it was much prettier outside, so I went for a long drive. Hunger was the only thing that was able to convince me I needed to go back home.

Now I’m sitting in my bedroom staring out the window, watching the snow fall and listening to music as loud as I can crank it on my headphones.

I had a dream early last week about snow. I dreamt that it started snowing, the delicate, dreamy flurries like we’re having now and I was so amazed and excited that I opened up the roof of my car (took the roof off, really) to better see it all. I knew other people around me had to think I was nuts to be driving around in a "topless" car in the snow. But I didn’t care. It was too beautiful to not experience it as fully as possible.

I thought about that dream again today as I drove around. I opened up my sunroof about 10 minutes into my drive and took every moment I could, at stop lights and stop signs — and occasionally stopping at dead end streets — to stare up at the sky and watch the snow flakes fall over me. I know there were some Nashville-ites who thought, "this crazy Californian is driving with her sunroof open! They really are nuts out there!"

Know what? I didn’t care. I was having the time of my life, cranking the 90s tunes to the max, dancing in the car, and enjoying the snow.

There are days when God just kisses you on the cheek. Today I got one… or two.

Thank you, Jesus! I love You, too.

Posted on

Redirect

The wind is roaring through the trees outside my window. Another storm is blowing in. The events of the last few days, and all I heard this evening join with the howling wind in announcing a change is on its way.

Mosaic Nashville is experiencing, for the first time, something that is inherently Mosaic. No one on the team but me seems to realize this. And I only know it because I’ve lived through many incarnations of Mosaic. Of all the wonderful things Mosaic is, one thing it is not is static. God never changes, but Mosaic remodels itself at least once every six months.

Now, that’s not a complete retrofit reinvention. It’s really a constant series of course corrections. Driven by Erwin’s passion, we sometimes head off in a direction at such lightning speed that we miss the left turn we were supposed to make. It’s… somewhere back… there…

Ten years of Mosaic life taught me that God honors passion, even when we "miss" the turn. He opens the paths up, helps us forge new roads, to get us to the place that the missed turn was going.

John is so much like Erwin. He’s not at all detail-oriented, but his passion causes you to forget that, and to consider details inconsequential to accomplishing the vision he has. He provided the fuel we need to reach escape velocity. Perhaps that’s what God intended all along. But just like Erwin, John moved so fast that he missed a turn or two. Thankfully, God always factors this into His equation for our lives!

So I’m proud to say we’re officially Mosaic now. Not even six months into this venture and we’re already working on course corrections. Now its starting to feel like home.

If this is what it really is to be a church-planter, then I love it. I really love it! Failure isn’t an option in this endeavour. It’s a given. You are going to miss some turns. You are going to blow through some stop signs. Its just a fact of life. Isn’t that the most awesome, exciting news you’ve ever heard! There is such freedom in it! Try, experiment, move, do something…. anything. If it doesn’t work, cool. You’ve learned something new.

Mosaic taught me this. Mosaic taught me to stop fearing failure. It taught me to just try something… just do something….. and see what happens.  Sometimes I think God is more concerned with the process than the outcome. I mean, take a look at some of the things He’s created. Do you think someone concerned with the outcome, with perfection, would have created the Duck-billed platypus?  Honestly…!

I feel for my teammates, though. Many seem to be struggling with the whole thing. I see a resistance to call this "failure". I sense a profound sadness from some, and confusion from others. I understand. I’ve been there before. They’ll get used to it after a while. And eventually they’ll be like me, craving constant course corrections and redirection and unable to live in a community without it.

Yikes, look at the time! So much for sleep tonight…

PS The wind is still roaring, the rain is now in Memphis. The storm should be here by daybreak.

Posted on

Finding Neverland

A place grownups say doesn’t exist. A place some would say you can only go in your mind. A place children visit everyday. And laugh and play and live as children ought to be able to live.

No, not the ranch, God forbid I talk about children visiting there!!

I’m talking about the place James Barrie created in "Peter Pan".  Tonight Nina, Toby and I went to see Finding Neverland, a film inspired by the events surrounding the writing of the play. It’s an amazing story, a beautiful, sweet, filled with great performances, two-tissue movie.

I left contemplating Neverland, the possibility of its existence and what it really looks like. I wasn’t ever enthralled with the movie versions of Neverland, either animated or live-action. Perhaps that’s why I never bothered to read the book it came from. Now, however, I think I might like to. I’d like to see what kind of images the words conjure in my own mind. Would I see fairies and pirates and mer-people the way the movies make them look? Or would I see creatures far beyond the ability of artists to capture on celluloid.

I’m pretty convinced it’s the latter more than the former. Mom used to tell me all the time I have a very vivid and creative imagination. I’m not sure she always meant that as a compliment, but I always took it as one. 🙂  I don’t know how my imagination compares to others. I can’t crawl inside their heads and see…. but I do know I can imagine quite a bit, and always have. As a child, I lived more in my imagination than in the real world. I thought that I would outgrow that once I became a "grownup". I never did. Is that a bad thing??

I don’t visit Neverland like I used to. For many years I left my "adulthood" at the door and stepped into a world of magic and mystery. It’s amazing how adulthood can eventually steal you away from Neverland and keep you tied to the "real world". I was immune to that theft for most of my adult years, with only small bouts of adult-ness. Until last year. "Finding Neverland" points out that the death of someone you love, more than anything, can steal a person away from Neverland and leave them forever trapped in the Land of Adult. But it also brings up a question that has haunted me for ages: when does "believing" in magic and mystery become folly? When does imagination turn into pretense and/or denial of reality?

Can one live Neverland and in the real world? The movie would have us believe James Barrie did. He was Peter Pan, and also playwright J.M. Barrie… boy leader of Neverland’s lost boys and society’s man of the theatre…

But is it just more movie trickery, or can it really be done?

Posted on

It IS About You, It IS About Me

“It’s not about you.”

It’s the latest mantra of western Christians. I suppose it could be credited it to the well-meaning, well-spoken words of Rick Warren in his book, “Purpose Driven Life”. However, I think we in the Body of Christ have come to misuse and abuse this saying. It’s become a stick we beat people with instead of an encouragement to build people up, and help them refocus their lives on God’s purpose for them.

I heard it again tonight. Well meant, I’m sure. But completely misused and, in part, abusive. It felt like a complete slap in the face. As if all that God had been revealing to me, all that God has been doing in my heart and soul over the last two years is a lie. That I am being selfish and self-centered to even want God to care about me or about my “trials”.

The Truth I’ve come to find in God’s Word, and in my own experience with Him over the last couple of years, is that it IS about me. It really IS. About. ME.

God is so very in love with me. With me of all people! His life, His existence, His focus is all about showing me just how truly, madly, deeply He loves me, how He strongly He longs to have an intimate divinely sweet relationship with me, how He wants nothing more than to pour out into me all the love and grace and mercy and gentleness and kindness and joy and so much more that He has… to pour all that He is and has into me every second of the day, how He has so many mysteries and secrets and passions He is desperate to share with me. From the moment I wake up to the moment I wake the following morning and round again, I am on His mind. I am the focus of His attention. I am the apple of His eye.

Think of that! WE are on His mind, the Creator of the Universe thinks of nothing but US every second of every minute of every day of every month of every year forever.

Why do you think Jesus suffered the brutal death He did? For me. To give me Life.

Yes, yes, I know… He didn’t come just for me… or did He?

What is it we Christians always say to those we are leading to Christ? “Even if you were the only person on earth, Jesus would still have died for you.”

Why is it okay to say that to others and not to believe it ourselves? If I were the only person on earth Jesus would still have died for me. THAT’S how much He loves me.

I think we don’t really believe that line we feed our potential “converts”. We believe it for, and about, them at that moment. But not for and about ourselves. And once a person commits their lives to Christ, we do a bait-and-switch and tell them “its not about you, it’s about them.” As if now that God has us, He no longer cares about our wants, needs, hurts, desires, longings.

So wrong. So very wrong.

Long before he laid down earth’s foundations, he had us in mind, had settled on us as the focus of his love, to be made whole and holy by his love. Long, long ago he decided to adopt us into his family through Jesus Christ. (What pleasure he took in planning this!) He wanted us to enter into the celebration of his lavish gift-giving by the hand of his beloved Son… Long before we first heard of Christ and got our hopes up, he had his eye on us, had designs on us for glorious living, part of the overall purpose he is working out in everything and everyone. — Eph 1:4-6, 11-12 (The Message)

“Which of you, if his son asks for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him! — Jesus (Matt 7:9-11)

I am my beloved’s, and his desire is for me. — Song of Songs 7:10

Posted on

Of Roots & Dreams

Larry and I have been having an interesting discussion in the comments of his Generosity-of-dreams post. Here’s his latest comment to me:

One of the first gifts God gave me when He brought me back to Himself was the idea that “the first bricks go on the bottom.” Churches and sermons are full of fire and zip, and the implication is that we’re supposed to be instant Christians. Just add Jesus.

I’ve held to that idea ever since. I’m not going to allow myself to be buffaloed into overextending myself, as I’ve done in the past. I’ll let the bandwagon just roll on by, and I’ll keep walking in the belief that Jesus is holding my hand and that we’ll catch up with the bandwagon if we need to.

I think there is a lot more to the life that God wants to give me. Us. All of us. We don’t, however, have the patience of the oak tree that spends its first few years making roots so that a four-inch tree has a six-foot root underneath.

I believe that God’s life needs that root. I believe that there is much more to the life He wants to give us, but we can’t live without the root.

In short, I think you’re doing fine. You’re making roots. Sometime, if you just simply keep following Jesus, you’ll find out what your heart desires and He will give it to you. Being enraptured by Jesus’ glorious face is, I believe, where we start.

We’re used to living in a desert. If God were to dump all of what He wants to onto us we’d choke. It’s like feeding someone who has been starving for years: you don’t put him before a table loaded with pizza and steak. You start with broth.

God is a most excellent builder. He will do for us what He has promised.

His comment brought such hope to me! And a spark of life. This is what I miss from LA. I miss my Life Group. I miss my friends like Wendy, Ron and Leticia. I miss the times we had of communing together; with our hearts and souls intermingling, so that we shared in each other’s struggles and pain. Not just a time where we shared “prayer requests” but where we shared our hearts. They were safe places I knew I could bear my soul without condemnation or judgment, where it was okay to be who and where I was right then, where I could get words of encouragement and hope that spread across my whole being like a healing balm…. I think Larry’s found that with Nate and Debbie, and I envy him. I envy Wendy and her close proximity to all our other friends…

Ah, but that is rabbit to chase another time… right now I want to go back to the idea of growing roots.
Larry said:
“I believe that God’s life needs that root. I believe that there is much more to the life He wants to give us, but we can’t live without the root. In short, I think you’re doing fine. You’re making roots..

As I began my reply to him, an image popped into my head. A dream I’d had in ’97. Yes, I know. It’s a bit freaky that I remember a dream from that far back in my life. Even more freaky is that I remember it with vivid clarity. I also remember God’s interpretation, which came the following morning, with the same vivid clarity.

Now before you get even more wigged out that I’m going all “charismatic” on ya 🙂 (my apologies to my charismatic friends), this is an unusual thing for me. I don’t normally have dreams interpreted by God. In Love with Jesus I am. But Daniel or Joseph I am not (however, I have suddenly developed a strange affinity for talking like Yoda… weird).

The dream starts with me coming out of my parents church in Riverside (which, in the dream was my church… everyone at Magnolia Ave Bapt please stand and wave… thank you, you may sit down now…) As I approach my car, I realize all 4 tires have been slashed. Now what do I do? Suddenly, the church is no longer in Riverside, but in LA (for non-SoCal’s, they are about 50-60 miles apart) and I call my dad — in Riverside — and tell him what’s up. He says call AAA and have them get the tires okay enough to get out to him and we’ll go together to get new tires. I call AAA, they come and do their thing… but as the guy is leaving he tells me his is a very temporary and fragile fix. I cannot, repeat cannot go over 35mph, or my tires will explode and I will most likely cause a huge accident. The picture I got in my mind was of me killing myself and several others around me… Yikes!
I knew I needed to head straight out to dad’s, but I had so many errands I wanted to run! So, I ran them, all the while knowing my dad was waiting… patiently… for me to arrive so we could take care of the tires. I woke before arriving in Riverside, with this very uneasy feeling that lasted all morning… yet still feeling the warmth mixed with twinges of guilt of knowing my dad was patiently awaiting my arrival.

God interpreted the dream over a day later (Perhaps this was so there would be no mistaking both the dream and interpretation came from Him…). Driving home for Life Group God suddenly brought the dream back to mind my with stunning clarity. He pointed out that this was about my life; the tires represented “feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace.” Eph 6:15 — Erwin had been going through the armor of God in his talks on Sundays, this one had been the previous Sunday’s… and the key word this piece of armor was “discipline.” God said, as long as I continued the way I was, I would still be okay, but I wouldn’t get where I wanted to go very fast. I was left with this feeling that He was waiting, patiently (as my dad was in the dream) for me, so we could get the “tires” replaced so I could go-go-go.

This dream and God’s interpretation has come back to “haunt” me at various points in my life. Almost like a quiet, “God said this would happen…” sigh of my spirit. Or perhaps God’s spirit in me…. I never heeded God’s warning back in ’97 to “take care of my tires”… not really. I’ve made good stabs at it. Worked at being disciplined in time in the Word, time with Him, in living a godly life. But I lack consistency, so I don’t think I’ve ever achieved it… I certainly don’t see myself as disciplined now.

Perhaps the dream is not just about discipline… Perhaps that’s just the human definition I put on it because that was the one closest at hand at the moment to understand “feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace.” — which was very, very clearly stated by God (while the discipline wasn’t — I inferred it because of Erwin’s study)…. or perhaps part of growing roots is discipline… or part of discipline is growing roots…

The Amplified Bible puts verse 15 this way:
And having shod your feet in preparation [to face the enemy with the firm-footed stability, the promptness, and the readiness produced by the good news] of the Gospel of peace.

That would certainly imply discipline, at least in part. It doesn’t cover the whole of the verse… preparation is more than just discipline. It also involves practice, skill, alertness, a ready stance — like the feet spread that you get when you’re bracing yourself against a strong wind gust… just like a tree must have deep roots that will brace it, hold it steady, give it stability if it is to survive gale force or hurricane force winds…

“[Most] blessed is the man who believes in, trusts in, and relies on the Lord, and whose hope and confidence the Lord is. For he shall be like a tree planted by the waters that spreads out its roots by the river; and it shall not see and fear when heat comes; but its leaf shall be green. It shall not be anxious and full of care in the year of drought, nor shall it cease yielding fruit.” — Jer 17:7-8 Amp. Bible

I guess God is working on my feet, huh. I’m growing roots deep into the heart of God. That’s good. Because I just can’t seem to get enough of Him these days. So perhaps bigger, deeper, longer roots will help… I still need to work on the discipline thing… I need to become more consistent. I hope that part of God’s work on my feet will include helping me in this area too. ….Perhaps one day, someone will want to put this on my tombstone….

How beautiful upon the mountains were the feet of she who brought good tidings, who published peace, who brought good tidings of good, who published salvation, who said to Zion, Your God reigns! — Isa 52:7 Amp. Bible with Lu’s alterations