Month: December 2013

A Blessing…

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images (7)He saw the words on the page and wondered if the word ‘blessing’ was an accurate description of him. Others described him as a blessing, a gift, a powerful speaker, a God given leader, but did he, could he, believe it himself? Did he believe it deep down, down where only God could see his heart?

God had given him much, he had given much in return, however, somehow it never seemed to be enough – in reality it never would nor could be enough. It was a gift, freely given; he needed to receive it freely with no additions, no but… Could he allow himself to stand beneath the cool springs of living water, every moment of every day? Could he let himself continually dwell in the mighty power and presence of the almighty God without feeling unworthy? It was true he was unworthy in his own power.

The sufficiency of Christ’s death on the Cross, the end to separation between man and God, could he practice the continual presence of God or more yet, deeply let it seep into every known part of him for continual cleansing? A time paradox, a soul conundrum, but nevertheless truth in its simplest form: receive the gift – continually…

He would never know the many hundreds of lives that God had changed because of his obedience to the call, on this side of heaven. Countless hundreds multiple times had chosen to speak with him after church, “Thank you Pastor…” “That sermon really hit the spot…” “God used you in my life, Pastor…” The shear honesty in the words was sometimes lost by the chatter in his brain, “Oh, but you don’t know how I messed up the third point.” “Oh, but you don’t know what a difficult time I had with the first five minutes of my delivery.” “Oh but, you …” constant chatter, missing the heart felt relationship meaning in the words. Also missing the Father’s “I love you son. I am proud of you son.”

Standing and allowing the blessing to touch his heart was another way to receive the love of his Father. He knew this, and strived for it, but somehow it seemed to elude him, much to his suffering and anguish. His Father would cry when he missed a blessing He sent his way. The Father knew he missed the humility gained by swallowing his expectations and actually hearing and receiving the many gifts offered to him each time he would ‘step into the anointing’ using his spiritual gifts.

Receiving love came in many packages, trust from others, responsibilities, spiritual gift sets, people, and loved ones. Allowing the living words of blessing to touch his heart was the message he kept missing… stumbling over his wall of discernment. Discernment was creating an automatic filter; his loving Father was asking him to lower his sword and shield long enough to fully receive the many blessings He placed in his life. To receive the Father’s love fully in all of its forms is another type of discernment.

A blessing, a message, however painful, the Father was sending to him. He fell to his knees, “OH GOD, he cried, test me and see if there is any wicked way in me, open my ears that I might hear your statements of love for me, open my eyes that I may see the ways that you show your love for me. Test me, oh God, let me rest in your arms as your beloved son, let me see and hear you Lord in new and deeper ways. Oh God, have mercy on me.”

He fell to the ground, his face to the floor and wept…

and God heard his cry.

(created story)

Not Good Enough!

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download (12) depressed manBy Stacey Britton |2012| Blog

NOT GOOD ENOUGH!

He stood in the doorway, leaning his elbow against the frame and cradling his head in his hand. It was never going to be enough. He could never spend enough time with his wife, never enough time with the kids as they grew from toddlers to adults. Never was enough, his heart screamed at him, never, never, never ‘good enough.’ There will always be another drain to unclog, a lawn to mow, a bike to ride, a sermon to preach, a prayer to pray, God, my work will never be enough. Oh, God how I need you.

The venom of resentment pooled in his mouth as he swallowed his words and took his anger again to the Lord. The old tapes of self-loathing, the ones he thought were ‘under the blood’ played in the center of his soul. You will never be good enough; you will never get it ‘right’. Unshed tears of frustration and hurt, already cleansed by Christ’s redeeming blood, announced their presence as the scars on his soul. Oh God, please hear me, I know you’ve taken these memories, these experiences, these unholy places of frustration, and yet here I am back at the foot of the cross bringing them before You again. The shadow of a past, the echo of a dream, both cast a separation glass between receiving his rightful birthright as a child of the King and wallowing in the depths with his history.

Claiming victory and walking in victory, two disciplines that were his friends throughout his Christian life. The sweetness of God’s presence walked with him each day, but there were those awful gut wrenching moments when sweat would pour from his face when he was brought to his knees in prayer. He began to realize that in those moments it wasn’t just for himself that he prayed, but his flock also struggled with the pain of the momentary life here on earth and the eternal promise of the reality of being an eternal being, not of this world. He felt the pain of the stark realization that he did not belong here on earth, his home was heaven and the pain in his soul caused him to pause his breathing as he prayed through.

All these thoughts and feelings flitted through his tired mind in an instant as he stood in the doorway, confronted with the mundane clogged sink in his new home. This was just a temporary dwelling, his home was with God, his true home was in the eternal and it was good enough. way more than just good enough, it was unimaginably good!

Pizza, Prayer and Presents

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images (36) xmas treeDecember 25, 2013

Nothing says Christmas Eve better than our traditional reading of the story of Christ’s Birth, eating something, praying and then opening the presents. This year our normal clam chowder ended up turning into the round pizza treat everyone loves in our family. All of the five of us were there, Dad, mom (me), the three boys and our dog Ruth.

The pizza was lovingly placed in the oven, beverages of a favorite of sorts were placed in the freezer for a quick cool. Then we all sat down in the living room to reflect. 

Reflect on the reason for the season, the quote that used to be spouted from every retailer in the area… but this was a true time of reflection. Hearing again the story of Mary giving birth to our Savior. Prayer traditionally follows this ritual reading. Dad (my husband) began first: “Lord I thank you for your gift to us this season…” then our first born son, “Lord, I thank you for helping me overcome a huge obstacle in my life this year…” (my throat began to contract as I fought the tears…a life  long struggle, a prayer answered…thank you God) …he continued to praise God for the year and all the many blessings that God had bestowed upon him… he had a grateful heart.

Then son number two began by protesting that he thought prayer was a private thing, a pause ensued, then the most humble prayer I have ever heard came from his mouth and continued as God began to work in his heart. (my throat constricted again and tears freely flowed as this young man’s brokenness touched not only my heart but the very throne room of a Mighty God – my heart was changed as a witness to the work of God during this prayer – God had descended long ago into a cave and was lain in a manger, this year Christ came again in the heart of a wounded warrior, my son)

Silence filled the air except for the heavy presence of a Holy God you would have thought no one was in the room, the dog even sat still and at attention waiting for the next prayer.

Son number three also began with thanks and praise for the year God had taken him through. I rejoiced because it had indeed been a challenging year. A huge life goal had been accomplished for this young man and only his future remained in front of him, full of hope and potential.

When it was my turn to pray… I could not speak, the boys and Eric opened their eyes to check to see if I was going to pray… then they saw the tears and knew the reason for the pause… I  had no more words to speak before my Savior in that moment, my family had said everything and more. So I began with the simple words…

Thank you Lord….

Prayer time took precious moments of the night, but in those moments my heart sang a song that has been long awaited for in my heart. Deep rejoicing, fervent adoration, a broken heart mended, hope reborn…praise the Lord.

Pizza and Presents were next on the agenda, I don’t remember much of that or of the silly game the boys played afterwards. For this mother was pondering in her heart all the things that had happened that evening, much like the mother long ago pondered what the future might hold for the son she held in her arms. 

I am still pondering…

and praising…

My soul, My soul, does Magnify the Lord…

 

A Life of Faith

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It has only been in the last few years that I have grown to deeply appreciate the life of faith my mother had. She faced so many physical challenges… major ones like blindness, paralysis, and finally death. I always considered her the rock, the faithful, stable one. She could tell a terrifically funny story and laugh with the best of them. But she could also say just the right word at the right time. She was a Godly woman.

Pain was her frequent companion and it was not uncommon to wake up in the middle of the night to her tears and cries from pain that would not subside and from which there was no remedy. Yet, even in this her faith did not waiver, her prayer life was deepened and I watched her grow in grace as her body slipped away.

Gentleness and graciousness is not talked about much anymore. Be strong, independent and know how to speak your mind is touted as the new norm. But to know the grace of a word spoken in kindness when the speaker is full of raging pain, is to know the fullness of the Savior’s transformational and indwelling power in the life of mortal mankind.

I miss my mom. I miss her quick word  of encouragement when all seemed lost. Her smile and pat on the hand when words just wouldn’t suffice. Her life was marked by suffering and victory, faith and prayer. She and dad loved to cut a rug dancing the night away when they dated, I’m sure the two of them have the twinkle toes award in Heaven… I can imagine both of them dancing before their Lord, free of pain and completely full of the joy of the Lord, no more tears…

Tonight, Christmas Eve Night,  as my family gathers to read the Christmas story once more, talk of how the Lord brought us through another year and pray together I will thank the Lord for loving parents that taught me the real reason for this season.  Jesus, Messiah, come to all for all. My parents worship at His throne every day, fully known and known fully. I can hardly wait…

 

The Raging Torrent and the Tree

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Inner Solace and Solitude is really about the inner landscape of the soul – my mother tried to explain this to me when my boys were both under the age of two when all I wanted to do was run away for awhile to get my head on straight.

I sought solace beside a quiet river when my nerves were raw and on edge… but when I arrived that river had become a ragging torrent from the spring thaw and resulting run off. I wondered what it all meant then I saw the tree. The tree on the side of the sheer cliff, wedged deeply into a crevice, roots holding it firmly in place as its growth wandered upwards towards the sun. It stood solitary, silent, strong in the midst of a hard granite wall.

I marveled at the wild waves crashing against those hard granite walls, I experienced the mist gently caressing my face and I pondered the strength of the lone tree on the sheer cliff side. Dwelling safely, securely in an impossibly sheer rock face, secure in the cleft of the rock.

I knew I needed to be like that tree… Looking at the Son, not focused on the chaos below or the overwhelming living conditions, but focused intently on growing deep roots, finding nourishment and water and reaching towards the sun, the Son source of life.

I left home that day seeking a quiet pool to ponder and a place to rest, to get away from everything… instead I found a loud, raging river that seemed to match the inner world I was trying to escape. I wanted an outside source to calm my inner pain instead I found a place to stand and grow roots, a place to experience life in the midst of the rapids and I found a place to look – heavenward.

A quick trip, a powerful lesson, a needed break. In the midst of the loud crashing, thundering water, I found peace…a quiet inner peace which was what I had sought all along. I shared my trip, my need, what I learned and my mother replied: “You could have found that right here in the apartment…” and she was right!

I finally understood what she meant… Peace can happen when you visit a calm river, but peace can happen in the midst of the storm, peace inside, because the Prince of Peace is just waiting to give us Himself the author and perfecter of our Peace…

True peace for the inner landscape of our soul, true solace and solitude in the midst of a busy life…

Peace

I visited that tree some 20 years later, it was still growing in the side of the cliff, four times as big as I remembered it when I saw it first. Slowly and steadily growing but growing none the less.

Now I’m  like that tree, somewhat slow in growing, but growing none the less.