August 2010 | Elaine Olsen

a prayer for my Amelia…

August 13, 2010

***See update below…

Would you do me a favor? Would you pray for baby girl… my Amelia? Today was the first day of school for my two youngest at their new school. Jadon fared pretty well, but Amelia… well, not so well. She got sick at lunch, played by herself at recess, and didn’t go to the bathroom all day. She’s extremely fearful regarding the making of new friends and of “doing” her papers correctly. She was inconsolable the entire evening, pleading with me not to make her return to school tomorrow. In addition, she’s experiencing bouts of anxiety that somewhat resemble panic attacks.

This tears at my mother’s heart, and I’m completely exhausted with it all. I don’t know how to help her; in many ways, I relate to her pain and have had my own difficulty navigating these days of change. It’s my heart’s desire to live with a “thumb’s up” approach to daily living. Some days, however, it’s tough to keep upright. I’m praying my way through this; I’d appreciate yours as well.

In addition, I’m awaiting word of recent, personal medical tests… never an easy wait.

May God grant each one of us the daily grace we need to push past the confusion and rest peacefully in his good and tender care. Blessed weekend to you and yours. As always…

Peace for the journey,

~elaine

PS: To the relief and praise of her parents’ hearts, we were met with a smile this afternoon when picking up Miss Amelia. Thank you, friends, a thousand times over for blessing us with your prayers. It may seem insignificant to some, but to us it means everything. Blessed weekend to you all!

"a little bit of money…"

August 9, 2010

My daughter celebrated her 8th birthday this past week. At the top of her wish list?

A little bit of money (her words, not mine).

I read her list aloud to my precious group of “ancients” back in my former town (I had to return this week for a Dr.’s visit, scheduling it on a Tuesday to make sure I didn’t miss the weekly lunch gathering). When I finished reading her list, not only were there chuckles a plenty, but also there was money flying at me from every direction.

“Give this to Amelia… a little bit of money from me, one of the ancients.”

On and on it arrived into my lap, and in the end, Amelia had more than a little bit of money. She had forty-two dollars worth of money! Needless to say, her heart smiled big as she opened up her unexpected treasure. The moment reminded me, yet again, of an important truth regarding our God and his surprises.

He always surpasses our expectations. He can’t help himself. He’s God. Exceeding expectations is a quality built into his character.

We can’t always see it; further still, there are seasons when we refuse to believe it. I know. I’ve been there recently. My little bit of money has seemed paltry at times. Accordingly, I’ve kept my expectations pretty low. These are the steps I’ve lived. I’m not proud of them. I’m just keeping it real with you.

But so is God… keeping it real. And just this morning, he surprised me with a little bit of something…

Himself… right around 11:45 AM while sitting amongst the few saints gathered in corporate worship at Christ UMC.

I don’t know if it was the text that was being preached from John 4—the interchange between Jesus and the Samaritan woman at the well. Or, perhaps the preacher—he has a way of making my heart skip a beat from time to time. Or, maybe the fact that my family was gathered all around me. Regardless of the externals, somewhere around 11:45 AM, my husband’s words admonished us to consider “true worship” and the “audience of One” who awaited our worship on Sunday mornings—the One who rends the heavens in order to get a closer look at the two or three gathered to entreat the Lover of their souls. As the words were falling from his lips, I felt the tremor of all creation radiating through my body. From head to toe, outward and in full measure, the Spirit of God resonated with his Spirit living in me, and I was surprised by the gift.

Not just a little bit of God. A whole big bunch of God. And for the first time since being in my new house of worship, I felt a pulse—the living, breathing pulse of heaven, convincing me that God is alive and active and on the move amongst our lampstand. I think others felt it as well, and I am glad for some corporate understanding at this level. I don’t think God’s pulse beats in isolation. There’s something about the gathering of two or three hearts in unified purpose that seems to manifest the presence of the Almighty—one of the primary reasons for our “doing church” as a family.

“I’m counting on the probability that when our Sunday gatherings commence, there will be at least two or three others who have gathered with a similar intention. I want my children [as well as myself] to be in the path of other believers, giving them the opportunity for the sacred intersection of their hearts with the heart of the living God, who knit them together in his likeness.” (pg. 135, “peace for the journey: in the pleasure of his company”).

God is not “dead” in this place. God’s pulse has never been absent from this new congregation. Rather, God’s just been waiting for his children to put his presence at the top of their wish list. To dare to ask for a little bit of himself in hopes and in expectation for eventual fulfillment. Today, I received an inclination of just what that might mean for all of us in the days to come—one sacred dollar at a time, collected and gathered over time, until our laps are overloaded with joy and merriment for the lavish outpouring from his heart into ours. He just can’t help himself. He’s God, and exceeding our expectations is built into his character.

Today, you and I stand on the threshold of a new week. Many are the plans we’ve made; many of them based on necessity, on survival, on making it through another 24/7. Some of us enter the week full of expectation; some with little more than limited hope to make it through. Some of us have God’s presence at the top of our wish list; some of us have asked for lesser things. Regardless of what we’ve asked for or how the level of our anticipation currently measures, God, too, stands at the threshold of our new week. He walks it with us; not apart from us, and if we could get an inclination of just how much he wants to bless us with the revelation of his presence, I’m certain that we’d ask for more. Not just a little bit of God, but rather a whole big bunch of him. That kind of asking is in keeping with our God and his “real.” That’s just how much he wants to be known by his children.

Oh for faith to ask him for more. For faith to trust him more. For faith to expect his more. For faith to unwrap his more. May God extend his heart of mercy into your faith this week and surprise you with a little bit of himself until his pulse multiplies and gathers to become the great expectation of your heart.

Let’s unwrap our awesome God together. I’d love to know how our Father reveals his presence to you this week. As always…

Peace for the journey,

~elaine

PS: The winners for Sandi Patty’s new book will be announced with my next post. There’s still time to enter. Just add a comment to that post, and you’re in! Shalom.

"The Edge of the Divine" by Sandi Patty {book review}

August 5, 2010

Divine edges—“the point at which something is likely to begin.” A God, kind of something.

So says Sandi Patty in her latest book The Edge of the Divine: Where Possibility Meets God’s Faithfulness.

I’m not much on writing book reviews, not because I don’t like to read books, but rather because I don’t always operate on the time table given to me regarding the writing of those reviews. I’m pretty selective with the books I read; my time, like yours, is a precious commodity, and I don’t like to rush my reading. I like to take my time with the pondering therein. So again, I’m not much on writing book reviews. But when I was recently contacted about writing one for Sandi’s new book, I agreed. Why? Because her story, in many ways, is my story.

Not the singing part, mind you. I couldn’t touch that golden voice in a million years. It’s one of the voices of my young adult life—a voice that buoyed me along in the development of my own understanding of just how big our God is. No, the part of her story that resonates most with mine is the grace part. The part about receiving the unmerited favor of God, despite sin. If that’s the case, then I imagine Sandi’s story might be all of ours as well.

The Edge of the Divine is a book that chronicles some of the recent “edges” in Sandi’s life that required her faith and confidence in “the letting go” process so that a greater “taking hold” process could begin. In particular, Sandi walks us through her recent surgery that jump-started her journey toward weight loss… an “edge” that she had to be willing to embrace in order to deal with some debilitating issues that had plagued her since childhood. Sandi would be the first to tell us that the surgery’s benefits have far extended beyond her amazing weight-loss. That, in fact, the surgery was an edge that led her to leap into and deal with some greater issues of faith and trust and healing.

At many points along the way, I resonated with Sandi’s thoughts on “edge” living…

“Living life on the edge means we’re constantly at the point where something may begin, or not begin, depending on our choices. We’re looking around for cliff edges that hover over good futures, praying that God will guide us in choosing the right edges to step off of. But sometimes we misunderstand, or we go charging ahead without seeking God’s guidance” (pg. 26).

There’s a difference between God’s divinely orchestrated edges that will ultimately grow and extend our faith and the world’s edges—those designed to limit and diminish our faith. Knowing when to take that leap requires a heart in tune with the Holy Spirit. How many times have I been guilty of running ahead of God, taking a leap off a presenting edge, only to bear the scars of a poorly timed and loosely thought out decision!

Another highlight moment for me came on page eighty-seven. Sandi describes an edge moment belonging to Steve—her accompanying percussionist:

“Steve’s ‘point at which something was likely to begin’ was actually a gradual progression. Over time, his love for baseball faded, but his love for music never did….

He said something interesting as we were talking about edges and my work on this book. He noted that a life-edge isn’t always a sharp, defining line. Sometimes it becomes apparent as your interest in one thing wanes and your passion for something else grows. There’s no instruction manual for recognizing each new edge we encounter…. We simply ask God to be with us on the passage and to guide us in our decision making. Then we step out in faith, believing we’ll end up right where God wants us to be.”

I like the idea of gradual edges; it gives me permission to live with some of the unknowns in my life right now. A few of my deeply-rooted interests have waned over the last few years; new ones are emerging, and I am thankful for the shift. Some of yesterday’s edges are thresholds yet uncrossed by me, and in hindsight, I’m thinking that’s a pretty good thing. Why? Because some of them have become less important to me. Where as once they barked their insistence, their voices are now diminishing, and I’m grateful for some clarity along these lines. Heaven knows, I don’t need to be taking any leaps that will require a difficult climb toward healing in the end. No, when I take a leap of faith off an edge, I want it to be a divine moment, holy and completely orchestrated at God’s initiative.

Overall, Sandi’s book is a single “concept” book… identifying and giving stage to this idea of divine edges. In the process, she shines light onto some of her own edges, thus aiding readers in better identifying theirs. It’s a great thought that will linger with me for a bit longer… maybe even a lifetime longer. What are my “edges”? Where am I standing today? Are the “leaps” in front of me divinely present or are they simply a temptation for personal autonomy and authority? It’s something to think about.

Sandi’s book is an easy read, although the chapters are lengthy in nature. My undiagnosed “ADD” isn’t a good fit with lengthy chapters; my mind tends to wander a bit with so many words. That being said, I greatly enjoyed the personal stories richly embedded within the chapters. Hearing some about Sandi’s divine edges (not just weight-loss surgery but others that include a recent move to another state from her home of twenty years, navigating the sometimes tricky waters of being part of a blended family, parenting adult children as well as teenagers, etc.) helped me feel a little less “lonely” right now. Someone else has stood where I am standing, and it blesses me to know that there is abundance and joy to be found on the other side of a divinely orchestrated fall from one of God’s edges!

As a bonus, The Edge of the Divine also includes questions in the appendix to further apply the principles laid out in each of the eight chapters, making it a good fit for personal and/or small group study. I’m not quite ready to pass my copy of the book along to you, as I think there is some further work for me to do with it, but I’m happy to gift one of you with your own copy if this sounds like a good fit for your nightstand. Just leave me a comment indicating your interest.

Whew… talk about lengthy chapters! If you’re still with me, thanks for taking the time to read my thoughts; further still, for taking the time to consider your “edges.” May God grant you wisdom enough and faith enough to respond in accordance with his good and generous plan for your life. As always…

Peace for the journey,

~elaine

a toast to daily grace…

August 3, 2010

Fantastic life stories.

Do you have one? I don’t… at least not when measured by the world’s standards. Let me explain.

By fantastic, I don’t necessarily mean grand, glorious, excellent, superb or a dozen or so other synonyms meaning the same. What I mean is more along the lines of a “brought-back-from-the-ashes” kind of fantastic. You know what I’m talking about. A life-story that includes an extreme, seemingly debilitating circumstance that is eventually overcome by the kindness and grace of God to go on to become a shining witness for all those who happen by for a look, maybe even a best-seller.

I’ve come across a lot of those stories as of late; in particular, this afternoon while perusing the shelves at a local Christian bookstore. Rows and rows of books filled with the latest “triumph over tragedy” life-stories that ask for my attention… my wallet as well. And while I am grateful for God’s extension of grace and healing into the lives of those directly affected by painful, life situations, I’m wondering why the rest of our stories don’t “shelve” alongside these best-sellers. Why doesn’t a “less-fantastic” life get as much press as a “brought-back-from-the-ashes” kind of one?

As a writer, I’ve heard a lot of talk regarding “story”—about needing to have one… about what mine is and why others would want to read it. That kind of talk always leaves me feeling a bit hollow and inferior. Why? Because my life hasn’t lived, necessarily, in accordance with “fantastic.” Don’t misunderstand me. Grace is always fantastic regardless of how it arrives in the lives of God’s children. Every last one of us has experienced a “brought-back-from-the-ashes” kind of fantastic when it comes to God’s grace and all its amazing. What I mean is that not all of us have had to endure the trauma of something horrible prior to grace’s rescue. And just in case you’re wondering, I don’t wish for a Christian witness that’s in keeping with some of the horrors that my brothers and sisters have had to endure in order to receive their “fantastic” witness. I imagine many of them would trade their previous dread for a life lived less dramatically, less needful of an edge-of-the-seat, last minute kind of intervention. Still and yet, that kind of story seems to be what sells, what readers want, what lines the shelves of my local Christian bookstore.

If that’s the case, then I don’t have much of a story, at least not one that would sell. Certainly, I could talk about being the mother of four kids, but that’s not very original. I could talk about being a pastor’s wife, but that’s been done before. I’ve walked through a divorce, but these days that’s nothing new, certainly not headline worthy. I suppose if you’re the one walking through a divorce, it is. Sixteen years ago, it was a big, huge deal for me, but I’m mostly past that now. I don’t want to write about it, anymore than you’d want to read about it. It’s just not that fantastic. Today I live and walk in the grace that’s been afforded to me via the cross and in the spirit and freedom of Romans 8:1-2:

“Therefore, there is now no commendation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit of life set me free from the law of sin and death.”

So I’m wondering; perhaps you are as well…

What makes a life a worthy read? Why does one merit more press than another? Why do some stories garner the attention of readers while others get passed over? What if you had to “sell” your story to a publisher? Why would anyone choose to read your “life” over another one that has lived, perhaps, a bit more “fantastically?”

It’s not a fair question, for I happen to believe that all stories of grace are worthy of print. Funny how we get hung up on ranking the witness of God’s grace. Maybe you aren’t that shallow. Maybe you see the bigger picture. Maybe I’m just on a bit of a soap box tonight, but truthfully, I’ve grown a bit weary with it all.

I don’t need a story of “fantastic” grace to buoy me along in my faith journey. Rather, a story of daily grace will do me just fine. A day-in, day-out, walking it through kind of story that has lived a lifetime worth of days within the boundaries of holy living. An everyday life lived in an everyday way because a long time ago the lead character in the story made a decision to live an everyday Jesus in every kind of way. Not fantastically; just daily.

I imagine that’s most of you. Thank God for that… for a life that has lived free from some of the hardships of our brothers and sisters, from some of the prodigal lifestyles chosen by them as well. If today you’re living and breathing the same witness of faith that you lived yesterday… that you lived ten years ago, maybe even fifty years ago, then to God be the glory, and pass me your book please! What makes your story a worthy read (at least in my opinion) is your steadfastness to keep on doing what pleases God, come what may. To never stray too far off the path of grace, thus sparing yourself the need for a dramatic rescue from the heavenlies. To be content to live godly, even though it may never garner you the attention of the world.

Make no mistake… if you’re living godly, you’re being noticed. God is paying attention to your every chapter, even if you or others currently consider them mundane and ordinary. He’s adding the color along the way and as you go, and one day soon, you’ll see the fruition of his “fantastic” spin on your story. When you get home to him, you’ll find your book, shelved there alongside those of the ancients of old. It won’t go unnoticed or unpublished. It won’t be tucked away or forgotten or overshadowed by those whose stories you once deemed more worthy of recognition. No, your story of daily grace will stand front and center… in the very hands of God, and he will call it good and finished and a perfect fit in keeping with his kingdom library.

And that, my friends, is the making of a fantastic life story—one that begins and ends with our Father’s commendation. It may not make the shelves of Borders, but you can be certain it will make the shelves of heaven. I, for one, cannot wait to sit ringside with you and hear our Father read your story aloud for all of creation’s notice. Your life is just that good… just that worthy.

Believe it. Live it all the more. Here’s my toast to your beautiful, noteworthy life lived with God’s daily grace. I love you and thank you for investing good kingdom seed into the soil of my heart. As always…

Peace for the journey,

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Monthly Archives: August 2010