calling | Elaine Olsen

the riches of knowing God…

May 17, 2010

{I love my kids… front yard PR!}

“What are you going to do with all your riches, Elaine, now that you’re famous?”

This was the question that assaulted me this morning when I walked through the doors of the church. It was said in jest with good intention, still and yet, it stuck with me.

All my riches.

How do I begin to measure the bounty that I have known at the hand of God, not just over the past couple of weeks, but the entirety of the past forty-four years? It’s an impossible endeavor to be sure, but one I’m trying to work my way through in this season of my life. We should all take time to pause in order to consistently contemplate our riches. It is the “way” of a grateful heart. And so today I’ve taken that occasion… spent some time reflecting and remembering the riches of God.

How well I remember a December day four years ago when my writing dreams were shattered by a publishing company that had held onto my first manuscript for nearly eight months. It was my first attempt at writing a book, a Bible study on the book of Nehemiah. I was certain it would “hit the mark” with publishers and, for a season, all seemed to be clicking along.

Until that day.

I received a courteous but succinct “pass” on my work, and I was crushed. I still remember my young son standing on the other side of a closed bedroom door, listening to my guttural weeping. Before long, I saw his tiny fingers reaching through the crack at the bottom, clutching in his hand two quarters. After opening the door to his generosity, I asked him regarding those two quarters. His reply?

“I’ll buy your book, mommy. Even if no one else wants to read it, I’ll buy it, and when I’m old enough to read, I’ll read it.”

That day was a turning point for me. My son’s two quarters sealed something in my heart… something I’d known for a long season, yet something I hadn’t allowed myself to believe.

My giftedness with the pen is fueled and maintained by my Father’s heart and kindness toward me. His willingness to use my feeble flesh for his kingdom purposes is far beyond my understanding and doesn’t compute with human reasoning. Still and yet, he allows me a measure of influence along these lines and, therefore, I must write for him alone. His approval is the only one that matters to me. Man’s opinion will come and go, mostly based on the bottom dollar and with a “what’s in it for me” attitude, but God’s opinion isn’t fleeting. It doesn’t come with an expiration date. My words leave a lasting impression upon his heart and in his world, and when those words write otherwise—when I am tempted to offer up a “flavoring” in keeping with trends and statistics and with “what’s selling”—then I forfeit a piece of my soul. The world becomes too important to me, and I lose focus of the truly satisfying and singularly focused passion of my heart…

Knowing God.

As a people in search of a meaningful identity, we spend a great deal of time exploring our “passions,” do we not? We invest our energies into discovering God’s calling upon our lives, God’s will for lives, wearing ourselves out with comparing our lives to that of “so and so” and wondering why his or her fruit is harvesting at a seemingly more rapid rate than ours. Why that person seems to be getting all the breaks while we languish in our desire to do something, be something, live something more than what we’re currently living. We make God’s “calling” regarding our lives a difficult embrace (something our market has hit upon as evidenced by the number of books, seminars, Bible studies written on the topic) when all the while, he keeps it pretty simple.

“Now this is eternal life: that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent.” (John 17:3).

Knowing God. It’s what I’m about. He’s my passion. He’s my calling. He’s my meaningful identity, and for the time that remains for me on this earth, my pen will write accordingly… about my knowing God and then from that knowing, leading others to know the same. Therefore, I no longer feel the need to chase after the approval of man. It’s nice when it arrives to validate my heart-felt rendering, like when…

My mother takes my book to Curves (her workout establishment) and witnesses other patrons reading the desk copy she’s left there for promotional purposes. When one of those patrons voices her approval by saying, “This is really good; how can I get a copy?”

Or when…

A friend I’ve never met face-to-face from the opposite side of the country sends me an e-mail to let me know she’s spent some time in the “desert” section of the book and that the reflection entitled “a turn toward the better” was just what she needed to hear… “These are words of life, dear heart. They are something one can weep over because of shared pain: different in specific, similar in cost. But more importantly these are fighting words for me. The journey ahead is unclear, but walk it I will. Not at all in the spirit of my own might but in the spirit of the blood of the resurrection bloom. These are words, unusual words, that excite to love and good works.”

Or when…

Another e-mail arrives from a former college friend telling me that a copy of my book (one that her dad insisted on her purchasing last week) arrived on her doorstep just twenty-four hours before he passed from his earthly pain into final heavenly glory and that her heart’s been stuck on pages 84-86, from the “peace in the suffering” section.

Or when…

A church friend makes her way to my side this morning to tell me that, while she knows she’s supposed to be taking her time to absorb each reflection, she couldn’t help but “read on” because, for her, it was like I was talking to her… like we were having a conversation over coffee.

Moments like that; validation that doesn’t necessarily come with the ratings of a New York Times’ best-seller, but validations that matter for all eternity. It stuns me and buoys me along in the journey of grace and for the continuing cultivation of the driving desire and goal of my heart…

Knowing God.

And so, this night I answer the question that assaulted my sensibilities this morning. What am I going to do with all my riches now that I’m famous?

Make God famous and continue to invest his riches into my heart and life so that my pen might flow freely for his good purposes and for his kingdom gain. All other endeavors of my well-intentioned plans fall prey to this one. Therefore, may the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart leave a lasting impression upon his heart and within the hearts of his people. To this end, I pray. I pray the same for you. As always…

Peace for the journey,

PS: Thank you, everyone, for your support over the last couple of weeks in regards to the promotion of my book. This week, I’ll be giving away another copy or two of my book to those of you who are willing to support me a bit further by contacting at least five people in your life who’ve yet to hear about “peace for the journey.” Perhaps someone in your e-mail address book, someone in your church, someone in your family, someone in your neighborhood. If you’d be willing to let at least five new people know about my book (and we’re operating on the honor system here), please let me know in the comment section. Please share the video link with your contacts, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qdJDjiHzCQI or a link to this post announcing the book, https://www.peaceforthejourney.com/2010/05/peace-for-journey-in-pleasure-of-his.html. I’d be so very grateful for your kindness toward me and toward God’s kingdom agenda for my life. Shalom.

{to order, click Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Winepress}

"… live on"

May 12, 2010

{For you, friend, you know who you are.}

“… and yet we live on.” (2 Corinthians 6:9)

My right hand is aching this morning. Truth be known, it ached all night… a sharp twinge located in the center of my hand, just below my middle knuckle. I’ve felt it before. It flares up from time to time when my fingers and keyboard collide at a rapid, unrelenting rate. This has been one of those times for me… one of those weeks that has authored an unusual amount of connection between my fingertips and my computer. I don’t mind it much; I really don’t think about it often, especially while in mid-typing mode. But when the computer screen grows dim and the lights go out and my hands find their rest at my side, the pain sets in reminding me of an important truth regarding the call of Jesus Christ upon my life.

Kingdom work is sometimes flanked by the painful ache of a sacred obedience.

If we are Christians, if we dare to name ourselves with the name of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, then we are to be heartily invested in his kingdom business. We don’t get a pass when it comes to doing God’s work. Vocationally speaking, we may hold a variety of titles behind our names, but spiritually speaking, the only holding of our hearts that matters is the One who titles us as his. And when we get this—when we finally arrive at the place of realizing that all of our earthly endeavors are meant to be the fertile soil upon which the King sows his seed—then we readily accept the fullness of that calling, ills and aches included.

The Apostle Paul understood the strain between a painful ache and a sacred obedience. He willingly chose his “ache,” chaining himself to the Gospel of Jesus Christ and believing that every temporal pain of his flesh was achieving for him an eternal glory that far outweighed them all. At any point along the way, Paul could have chosen otherwise… could have freed himself from the physical and emotional misery that invaded his flesh. Instead, he persevered in great travail and suffering so that the church might know the culminating truth of the cross. So that the church would grow. So that you and I, some 2000 years down the road, might know what it is to “live on” despite the carnage and chaos going on around us and in us. But don’t take my word on it; take his…

“Rather, as servants of God we commend ourselves in every way:
in great endurance;
in troubles, hardships and distresses;
in beatings, imprisonments and riots;
in hard work, sleepless nights and hunger;
in purity, understanding, patience and kindness;
in the Holy Spirit and in sincere love;
in truthful speech and in the power of God;
with weapons of righteousness in the right hand and in the left;
through glory and dishonor, bad report and good report;
genuine, yet regarded as impostors;
known, yet regarded as unknown;
dying, and yet we live on;
beaten, and yet not killed;
sorrowful, yet always rejoicing;
poor, yet making many rich;
having nothing, and yet possessing everything.” (2 Corinthians 4:4-10).

I’d never seen it before… Paul’s “live on.” When reading this familiar passage I’m tempted to stay mired in the pain of it all, in imagining how my own life fits into the litany of sufferings he vividly details in his letter to the church at Corinth. Yet it’s there… two simple words that admonished the readers back then and the readers right now to “live on.” To not stay entrenched in the ache of our sacred obedience to Jesus Christ, but to “live on” in spite of it. To press on to take hold of all of that for which Christ has taken hold of us. To keep putting one spiritual foot of faith in front of the other until we press through to victory and can realize, even as Paul realized, that we possess everything, even though the world labels our possession as nothing.

The painful ache of a sacred obedience.

Some of you are living your ache today. Some of you are all too familiar with Paul’s suffering because yours, at some level, mirrors his. You may not be locked in a prison cell or experiencing the physical trauma of a flogging, but I imagine there are many of you who feel the emotional and spiritual intensity of some chains and some wearing and tearing away of your flesh that feels comparable in their depth to Paul’s.

Some of you are expending a lot of your faith on behalf of God’s kingdom gain while seeing little results. Some of you are standing on the front lines of a tenacious, spiritual battle where the line is wearing thin and your reserves have run for cover leaving you alone to fight it through to victory. Some of you are tired; sleepless nights have claimed your good sense and the energy for a new day has long since been usurped by the previous night’s wandering of your mind. Some of you are hungry; a famine of soul is crying out for the bread of heaven, yet the manna seems to have missed your acreage during its morning dispensation. Some of you are working hard, enduring long, speaking truth, and loving lavishly; still and yet, the payoff seems minimal and our Father’s notice all the more. You feel “unknown” and as an “imposter” upon the soil beneath your feet.

I hear you. I feel you. I cannot fully understand what it’s like to be you, but like you, I, too, have known moments, days, and seasons of feeling the painful ache of a sacred obedience. I cannot perfectly aid your comprehension as it pertains to the questions and “whys” behind your struggle, but I can, like the Apostle Paul, give to you a couple of words that have carried me through a great many aches in my past.

Live on.

Don’t die mid-stream. Live on. Press through. Receive everything as if it were happening to our Lord Jesus Christ and then, live on. For of this I am certain… you are known by our Heavenly Father. He sees your sacred obedience and regards you and your faith as genuine in his eyes. If you remain faithful to live on in Jesus, despite the carnage going on around you, then there is nothing in your past, present, or future that will come to you that will be able to undercut the witness of God’s kingdom via your flesh. Nothing. You can live on because Christ lived on. So did Paul; so have countless, unnamed others who have gone before you, who will follow after you, and who, in this moment, stand beside you to cheer you on toward victory.

I am one of them, friends, and I need your encouragement today just as much as you need mine. We’re on the kingdom road together; it’s no mistake that we have found one another in this season of living. God intends for us to be here… to love one another in the strength and power of his Holy Spirit and to live on together until we move home to heaven. It is but a moment from now… a single breath that will transport us into our “next” where our living on will live on in living color and before the very face of God. Believing and fully trusting in that moment, friends, brings me rich perspective for every temporal ache I experience that is connected to God’s kingdom end. Even so I pray, Lord Jesus, keep me obedient.

Keep me obedient to live on. Keep my friends as well. Amen. So be it.

peace for the journey,

importunate persuasion

April 25, 2010

Jesus replied, “A certain man was preparing a great banquet and invited many guests. At the time of the banquet he sent his servant to tell those who had been invited, ‘Come, for everything is now ready.’ But they all alike began to make excuses.… Then the master told the servant, ‘Go out to the roads and country lanes and make them come in, so that my house will be full. I tell you not one of those men who were invited will get a taste of my banquet.’” (Luke 14:16-18, 23-24).

On the heels of my previous post, many caring friends have asked me regarding “how things went” this past Wednesday evening. For the record, “things” went fine … better than I had anticipated. The new clergy family will be a lovely addition to this church. Long before my family ever set foot in this community, God considered the length of our tenure here and planned accordingly. He’s got it covered and will continue in his faithfulness to minister to the needs, dreams, and desires of this congregation… of this, I am certain. But this post really isn’t about “how things went” Wednesday evening. Rather, it is about “how things went” in the moments prior to Wednesday evening.

Before we get there, let me set the stage by relaying to you a conversation I had with my daughter a few weeks ago. It went something like this…

“Mommy, when you last saw Gayle, did you tell her about Jesus?”

“Yes, honey, I told her.”

“Did she understand? Does she know Jesus?”

“To the best of her ability, I think that she does, Amelia.”

“Then, mommy, you have a crown in heaven.”

“Oh precious one, there’s nothing I’d like more than to cast that crown at the feet of Jesus one day.”

“Mommy, promise me that the next time you see Gayle, if I’m with you, promise me you’ll stop so that I can meet her.”

“I promise. I think she’d like to meet you.”

***

I had the opportunity to make good on that promise this past Wednesday evening. We were traveling home from a quick dinner out when, from the corner of my eye, I spied her familiar “gait.” She was headed into the tobacco store; we were headed in the opposite direction. I whispered to my husband regarding her presence and then asked him to turn the van around. Truth be known, we didn’t have much time. Perhaps I would see Gayle on another day when the schedule wasn’t so pressing and when I wouldn’t be so stressed regarding the “big event” of my evening. Truth be known, God didn’t much care for my excuses. A parsonage “showing” isn’t necessarily in keeping with kingdom living. Thus, we stopped in front of the store and waited for Gayle to emerge.

When she did, she immediately recognized me. We hugged, and I introduced her to my family. She was quick to show us the contents of her plastic bag—her blue, Gideon bible. She’s been carrying that one around since the first time I met her on a bench last summer. After exchanging a few pleasantries, Gayle asked us for a ride. My husband nodded his approval, and together, the five of us made our way to a “questionable” section of town. Wary of our surroundings, I prayed a silent prayer for the security of my family. Gayle directed us to a low-income duplex. My impulse was to get her out of the car as quickly as possible and to move on. Instead, I pulled the van over and asked Gayle if we could pray for her. She willingly surrendered the moment to my request, and the four of us laid our hands on Gayle, thanked the Lord for her presence in this world, and petitioned him for his watchful care over her in the days to come.

Gayle told us good-bye and made mention of the next time we would meet… that perhaps we might consider coming to be the new pastors at her church.

The car was silent for much of the drive home. There was something prophetic about the words she spoke—words so closely tied to the truth of what we’re currently living that I was rendered nearly breathless, certainly speechless. And then, as if on cue, God broke through that silence with a gentle rain that began to fall upon our windows. It was the kind of rain that is sometimes accompanied by sunshine—the kind of coupling that normally produces a rainbow. I asked the kids to be looking for it… that this was just the kind of moment when we could expect its reminder. Almost immediately, Jadon cried out, “There is it, mom. In the rear window. God’s rainbow.” Again, we pulled the van over so I could get a better look. Rainbows are fleeting. Better to take them in as they take the stage.

Tears pooled in my eyes, and my husband took my hand. No words were spoken between us, only knowing glances of the truth that was being revealed in our spirits—

We were not forgotten. Gayle was not forgotten. The “big event” of my day—the parsonage “showing”? Well, temporarily forgotten—less important as it pertained to the living out of the kingdom on the pavement of everyday, real life. The kingdom never lives more effectively and profoundly than when it walks the streets with the King in mind, with his invitation to the banquet in hand, and with our “making them come in so that his house will be full.”

Making. A word in the Greek language that means “importunate persuasion”—a troublesomely urgent persuasion that is persistent in its request (Zodhiates, “The Complete Word Study Dictionary NT,” AMG Pub., 1992, 145). Why persistent? Why urgent? Why the need to compel the invited to RSVP? Because the kingdom of God is near, closer now than it has ever been, and the Master isn’t selective regarding his guest list. The way that we flesh out our kingdom callings sometimes indicates that we think that God is selective and conditional regarding his eternal invitation. But God doesn’t put conditions on who does or doesn’t receive an invitation. He’s interested in a full table, a full house, a full forever. What he’s not interested in is our excuses regarding our refusal.

Excuses serve as the foundation for our being excused by the Master from the heavenly banqueting table. Excuses wear thin when eternity hangs in the balance. And in case you’ve grown complacent regarding eternity, both as it pertains to where you’ll be spending it and where your neighbors will be spending it, it’s time to wake up. Time to take a look inward and to realize that Jesus Christ paid a high price for your chair at the table. We don’t get to choose who sits beside us, friends. We do, however, get to choose what we will do with the invitation that God has placed into our hearts and hands and has asked us, through importunate persuasion, to deliver to others. Thus, I ask you today, even as I asked Gayle this past week, even as I have asked you countless times before in this place that you’ve come to know as my cyber address,

Do you know that you know that you know my God and his truth? Have you surrendered your heart to his, and have you accepted his calling upon your life to go and to make disciples of all his people? Is grace your portion? If so, is grace your offering to others? When did you last hand out an invitation to the banqueting table? When did you last use sacred, importunate persuasion on behalf of the kingdom?

There are some occasions that will come to us this week that will matter for all of eternity—moments that teeter on the edge between heaven and hell where you and I will be given the opportunity to push “things” forward in favor of God’s forever. Some of us will make excuses; a rare few of us will live it out as God intends for us to live it out. When those moments come, I pray for the eyes to see, the mind to conceive, and the heart to be amongst the latter group.

No excuses. Just more of Jesus for me and for the Gayles of the world who’ve yet to realize that a chair has been set in their honor at the King’s banqueting table. It’s a good day to live with the King. It’s a good life to be trusted with such a gracious grace. May you know the richness of God’s bounty this week, and may you have courage and faith enough to dispense it liberally to every single soul who crosses your path therein. As always…

peace for the journey,

PS: To read more about my journey with Gayle click on the links within the post or here:
Post One: A Worthy Pause… God’s Worthy Cause

Post Two: A Tender Ache

a phone call from God

March 17, 2010

Yesterday was a good day. I can’t let today go by without chronicling the truth of my yesterday. It would be easy to forego the writing… to let yesterday’s goodness linger as sweet remembrance in my mind, but I don’t trust my mind as much as I used to. My mind is prone to wandering, to forgetting, to casually and occasionally reflecting on the goodness of God rather than keeping it constantly before me.

Thus, my pen and a few words this morning, so that in seasons to come—when March 16, 2010, is long forgotten—I can reach back to this piece of paper and remember my God, his goodness, and how he took a simple day and made it something significant for me.

It happened like this…

My Tuesday was well-planned for me long before it arrived. Bible study preparations were on the agenda, as well as preparations for an upcoming speaking engagement this weekend. Once the kids said their good-byes, I took to my agenda willingly and with energy, believing that God would strengthen me with his power for the completion of tasks therein. But as I have learned (and it’s been a life-long learning, friends), before I can be effective in God’s kingdom work, I must first come to his feet for the feeding. Without his filling, my daily tasks proffer more like religious productivity rather than relational privilege.

So we sat together… me and Jesus. We read his Word together, prayed together, and then in usual fashion, I asked him a question, not unlike the question I asked of him the other day regarding my “next.”

Father, what would you like for me to be for you, to do for you in my next season of living?

It’s a good question to ask of him, for with the asking, God has the privilege of entering into our queries with the deliberations of his Holy Spirit alongside. I think our Father likes nothing more than to engage with our honest pleas for guidance, especially when those pleas issue forth from a humble desire to serve him better. Certainly, I know how I might like to serve the kingdom in the season to come, but it seems to me that further refinement of just exactly what that service will look like is needed—some clarity and defining that I don’t fully have at this point. And so, I asked. And so, he answered.

Doorkeeper.

The word from the Word regarding my “next.”

You are to be a doorkeeper, Elaine.

Immediately, my thoughts went to the verse in scripture that says something about “being a doorkeeper at the temple rather than dwelling with the wicked.” I didn’t have the verse memorized. I knew it was somewhere in the Psalms, and I made a mental note to pull out the concordance at a later point in the day so that I could more fully engage with God’s directive to be a doorkeeper. I closed my time of devotion, thanking God for his Spirit and for entering into my deliberations. I asked him to bless the work of my hands that day, and then I moved on with my day.

Bible study prep.

I pulled out my notes and workbook from a previous week’s work in Jennifer Rothschild’s study Me, Myself, and Lies. How I have enjoyed my time together with my Tuesday night gals this go around! The study has been timely, needed, chock-full of truth, and the fellowship with other believers has been ever so sweet. We’ve grown in ways I never imagined possible when we began this journey together seven weeks ago. God has been faithful to meet us each and every week and has, especially, been faithful to strengthen me with a rich portion of leadership capabilities that I didn’t think I possessed.

As I was re-reading Jennifer’s words from “Week Six: A Hope Filled Thought Closet” I arrived on “Day Three,” page 138. On that particular day, Jennifer had us re-write Psalm 84 in our own words. As I read over my rendition, something began to stir in my spirit. Could it be? Is it Lord? The very same scripture you impressed upon me in our prayer time? The one about being a doorkeeper? Well, lookey there…

“Better is one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere; I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of the wicked.” (Psalm 84:10).

I was moved to tears and, again, made a mental note regarding my need to further explore this concept of being a doorkeeper on a later occasion when I had the time to process it more fully. Fast forward to last night’s gathering at Bible study.

I was sharing with the ladies about my moments of intimate exchange with the Father earlier that day. I told them about his initial word to me during my prayer time… about being a doorkeeper and what that might mean. And then, I told them about the moment from that initial moment, when I received a further prompt in this direction while reviewing my notes for our gathering that evening. As I was describing this to them last evening, at exactly 7:20 PM, something happened I didn’t expect. Something so perfectly timed, that if it wasn’t true, you’d think I’d set it up somehow.

Kim’s phone rang. No sooner had the words about my being God’s doorkeeper come out of my mouth, then did her cell phone ring out, eerily resembling the sound of a doorbell. We all had a good laugh, as I said to the Lord out loud, “Yes, Lord, I’m listening. I’m headed to the door and will open it up to see what you might have to say.” We all were kind of stunned, perhaps thinking it a nicely timed coincidence in keeping with our discussion, but it didn’t end there.

A few minutes later, I looked over at Kim. She had a puzzled look on her face. I knew something was up, so I asked her about it.

“Elaine, you’re never going to believe what that call was about. You need to look at this… a text picture someone just sent to me on my phone.”

I walked over to the phone and looked. This is the picture that I saw.

A door with a wreath hanging on it.

Needless to say, we were all stunned—none more than me. All I could do was bow to the moment and offer my words of obedience to, indeed, tend to the voice of the Lord as it pertains to my “next.”

Apparently, I’m to be a doorkeeper. I don’t know what that fully means at this point, but I’ve some thoughts along these lines. I’ve done some research, and I will continue to flesh it out in the days ahead. I am convinced that God will be doing that as well—sitting beside me and showing me what it means to be his doorkeeper. I’m not looking for a whole lot of defining from outside sources; I’m fully confident in God’s ability to bring clarification, and after all, his defining is what I’m after, not the world’s.

I don’t know what this means to you today; perhaps, it was meant just for me. But I think you need to understand something about our God…

He longs to offer you his voice, his direction, his defining, his answer. He will go to great lengths to make sure that you hear him correctly. Some of you may feel a bit short-changed in this area, may feel like his silence is indication of his lack of interest in your future. I understand. I’ve been there many times before. But then a moment like yesterday happens, and my faith increases, further confirming my belief in the practice of intimate discipleship… of coming to the shores of God’s grace and eating some breakfast from his fire every day.

It’s a practice that is serving me well, friends, and it brings hope to my spirit that there is more to come—more “in the moment, on fire, from the holy, hot breath of God” kind of moments that will arrive for me, as I am faithful to keep pulling my ship to shore and anchoring my heart and thoughts to the One who has been faithfully waiting for me in the night.

God is good, and his voice is sweet. I am exceedingly grateful for his willingness to share that goodness with me in any form he chooses.

Even with a cell-phone. I can hear my Savior calling; he’s calling for you as well. As always…

peace for the journey,

a single thing

February 15, 2010

“…being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus” (Philipppians 1:6).

A few days ago, I wrote a post—a few rambling words brought about because of a single picture that spoke a single word to my spirit. Peace.

If truth be known (and really what profit is there in pretending), I didn’t want to write anything. My pen has grown weary in recent days. In fact, a certain fear crept over me last week, albeit momentary, that, perhaps, for the first time in a long time, I had nothing to say… nothing worthy to write. I’ve heard of writer’s block before, but I’ve never experienced it. Even typing that feels strange, almost ominous, almost as if by speaking it aloud, it might come on in full measure after hitting the “publish” button to this post. If I’ve written it once, I’ve written it a dozen times…

For as long as God allows the ink, I’ll keep penning my heart for him. And so, despite my feelings regarding an empty computer screen and with ample tears to go alongside, in obedience I began to type and pray. Pray and type, all the while asking the Lord to just use it as he would… if he would. Apparently, he has, and that, my friends, is no credit to me. It’s a credit to him.

God honors our obedience to use our gifts, most days in spite of us. We can choose our “no’s”—decline his offer of kingdom investment into the lives of others—but our “no’s” do nothing to further his agenda. Certainly there are seasons when our weariness and worn-out status diminish our effectiveness. We must heed those prompts of needful restoration. But even then, God will always use our willingness when our willingness concedes the struggle to his hands over ours… when we get to the end of ourselves and simply say, “If you will, Lord, use me once more in this single thing.”

A single thing.

We never know when ours will make an impact… our single thing—our one act of obedience, chosen freely despite feelings, emotions, and wills that sometime lead us to consider another direction. Instead of choosing self, we choose a single thing that extends influence beyond personal gratification—that changes the direction in someone else’s life, albeit seemingly small and immeasurable. We…

Bake some bread.
Pen a card.
Visit the sick.
Send a gift.
Run the carpool line.
Make a call.
Share a ride.
Hug a neck.
Speak a word.
Write a check.
Answer an E-mail.
Say a prayer.
Lend a hand.
Offer some time.
Share a smile.
Voice some truth.
Do some chores.
Live some love.
Give some Jesus.

Single things, when gathered and collected, become a big thing in the lives of those who stand on the receiving end. We’ve all been the recipients of single things; time and again our need has dictated their arrival. If we were to chronicle those single things—perhaps even the ones that have been lavishly bestowed upon us over the past week—then we would begin to understand the length that our Father’s love is willing to travel in order for us to have a more perfect life.

He’s working it all out, friends, in a way that exceeds comprehension, and he’s using us as his conduits of sacred dispensation. He’s taking the single things of our single days and weaving them into a tapestry that radiates with kingdom color and creativity. Rarely are we aware of his workings as they unfold, for we are a people easily distracted by temporal details and frustrations. God’s goodness continues in its liberality within our day-to-days, but without pause in our spirits to receive his invitation of sacred participation or to receive his goodness as it arrives, we come to the end of our days barely aware of his entrance and intervention on our behalf.

This week you will stand on both sides of God’s equation for goodness; you will receive it in abundance as well as be called upon in some capacity to add to someone else’s. Your obedience with your single thing will bring color to God’s bigger thing—a portrait that collectively gathers grace upon grace to paint a masterpiece worthy of the throne room of heaven. You may think that your single thing doesn’t matter, is too small and too inferior to make a difference. But your obedience to that single thing may just be the one thing that shifts the eternal foundation of someone’s forever.

Don’t underestimate your single thing, friends. Don’t diminish your obedience to use the gifts that God has generously seeded within your heart for kingdom progress. He who began a good work in you is faithful to bring it to completion. Not just for your sake, but more importantly, for his.

Keep to your single thing; keep yielding your heart in obedience as the Spirit prompts, and see if he is not faithful to make it all count! These are good days to be serving alongside of you in continuing faithfulness. Let us march the steps of our spiritual ancestors, believing God for far more than the eye can see, mind can conceive, and heart can imagine. I love you. As always…

peace for the journey,

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Category Archives: calling