Category Archives: friendship

"see to it"…

“Tell Archippus, ‘See to it that you complete the work you have received in the Lord.’” (Colossians 4:17).

Last evening, I rushed home from our Bible study launch of Priscilla Shirer’s “one in a million” to participate in an on-line conference hosted by A Women Inspired. I missed most of the first session, but was excited to learn that my girl, Kristen from Exemplify, was hosting the second session. Like most of us in blogland, Kristen and I have yet to make a face-to-face connection. Thus, I was all the more eager to at least “hear” her voice; it didn’t matter much to me what she would be talking about. She could have talked fashion for all I cared; I would have listened (despite my careless attitude along those lines). It wasn’t the content I was after. It was the relationship. But my sister had a word to further validate the person she is … the person I’ve grown to love and admire throughout my time in the blogging world.

A simple, tender admonition to “see to it”. See to the work you have received in the Lord. She repeated the phrase throughout her presentation, and at one point, inserted my name into the mix (she knew I was there because participants are on-line “chatting” while the presenter is speaking).

“See to it, Elaine, see to it that you complete the work you have received in the Lord.”

I’ve thought a lot about that “charge” in the past fourteen hours, and I’ve asked the Lord a few questions along these lines. What is the work I have received from you Lord? What are you calling me to complete? What are the unfinished “chapters” that need words and punctuation and thematic flow? What is the work that is mine to conclude, and what is the work better left to someone else’s conclusion? Show me, Father, my place in your kingdom plan.

I went to sleep pondering my thoughts; I awoke with the same and then “happened” upon Mark 8:22-25 in my time of morning devotion.

“They came to Bethsaida, and some people brought a blind man and begged Jesus to touch him. He took the blind man by the hand and led him outside the village. When he had spit on the man’s eyes and put his hands on him, Jesus asked, ‘Do you see anything?’ He looked up and said, ‘I see people; they look like trees walking around.’ Once more Jesus put his hands on the man’s eyes. Then his eyes were opened, his sight was restored, and he saw everything clearly.”

Today, like the blind man, I linger on the outskirts of Bethsaida with my questions regarding my “see to it”. My eyes vision partial; my heart all the more. Where I desire clarity, there are trees walking around. I am not alone in my contemplations; my Savior is here with me. In fact, he led me here by his hand and is administering his own form of clarity in the matter. He reminds me that clear vision takes faith, takes trust, and takes the necessary steps toward having trees turn into people. Dreams turn into realities. Hopes turn into the “surety and certainty” that roots me back to the Author and Perfecter of all “see to it’s”.

Seeing clearly begins with a willingness to walk with the Father to the outskirts of the village where we normally reside. Normal, usual, and daily routine don’t typically birth clarity regarding our “see to it’s”. Taking time to be Jesus in quiet isolation, away from life’s distractions, brings perspective. It is in those moments when we best pay attention to the hands of Christ’s administration over our needs. His “see to it’s” for each one of us are best seen when we can clearly hear the whisper of our names on his lips, offering us his tender admonition:

Elaine, do you see anything? What is coming into focus for you? See to it, child, see to the work you have received in my name.

How about you, friend?

____(your name)___, do you see anything? What is coming into focus for you? See to it, child, see to the work you have received in my name.

Today I have ample time for the contemplation because I am well aware of the human condition—the limits our bodies allow us to travel before putting a “halt” to our intentions, our lists, our “seeing to it’s”. It’s been looming for a few days now (read my last post). I’m fighting its arrival with plenty of prayer and over-the-counter wisdom, but even then, a “halt” has become my necessity.

Rather than seeing this day as a day lost regarding my many “lists”, I’m investing this time with my Father on the outskirts of my normal and asking him for his hands to sharpen my vision along the lines of my “see to it’s”. I believe him for as much, and I am exceedingly grateful for these moments I’ve been given to step aside with him in isolation.

I pray the same for you in the days to come. God has given each one of us some “see to it’s”. There are seasons when it’s hard to clearly determine his intentions along these lines, but as we take time to be alone with Jesus, he takes the time and is more than willing to sharpen our focus and to strengthen our steps for the duration and completion of the ordained works he has placed in our hands.

So in the words of the Apostle Paul, and in the words of my good friend Kristen, see to it today. See to Jesus. Be with Jesus. Walking trees are just the beginning of a sharper beholding. As you are faithful to hang on for more, God is faithful to reveal to you his more. As always,

peace for the journey,

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Joy Comes…

Joy comes.


It came for me tonight as I chased the sunset to its rest. This evening, my feet carried me far and fast with the gentle breeze of a better wind. Tonight I ran with the Spirit, and we were moving in praise to the God who authors each day and scripts it with his living witness at every turn (you wouldn’t have believed my pace, Runner Mom).

It came for me this morning in a Sunday’s worship service. Today, I chased the ice-cream truck (thanks, Laura, for your post); my son led me there. He gave us all a glimpse into his heart as he chronicled a few memories from the pulpit about his recent trip to Bolivia.

It came for me in the hugs from my church family, all of whom genuinely enjoy being together in worship on Sunday mornings. How many churches can say that? Today we needed to be there for so many reasons, not the least of which was to gather our hearts in tender pause as we try to gather our bearings after experiencing such a tremendous grief.

It came for me in you, dear friends. The collective mass of you who took the time to pray for us all and leave your comforting thoughts in the comment section. Your time before the throne has been profoundly felt by me and by Beth’s family. You didn’t have to, but you did; I’m continually amazed by the way God is using our cyber connections to bring praise to his Name. He, alone, is worthy of our pens.

We could write about many things, and, indeed, we should. Our lives are not immune from the “everydayness” that creeps in and takes over. But God is there in every one of our days. The key for us is to be more intentional about looking for him.

As my son put it so well this morning…

“We may not always see God coming, … but boy, once he crosses your path, he sure is a sight to behold.”

Joy comes.

On Sundays. On Mondays. In Bolivia. In church. In hugs. In a graveyard. In a run. In a sunset. In sleep. In the rising of the sun. In the resurrection of the Son!

Joy comes.

Look and see; behold and believe. There’s more to this moment than meets the eye.

As always,

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PS: I’m adding a video clip from this morning’s service. Unlike his mother, my son has a softer tone to his speech, so turn up the volume if you want a listen. I realize that most of you won’t have the time; that’s fine. I’ve put this here, as I put many things here on my blog, as a “touchstone” of remembrance. My “thus far, the Lord has helped us.” So I do this for our family (paps, are you watching?) and for you if you would like to listen to the witness of an amazing God who is ever in the process of shaping his children and bringing his joy. Shalom.

A Hurting Heart…

A Hurting Heart…

I suppose I owe you post. It’s been a few days; still and yet, I’m struggling for my words. My heart isn’t here.

My heart is there, underneath a blue tent that shelters the freshly dug grave of my friend, Beth.

My heart is in a hospital room, where Beth’s daughter has just, this morning, given birth to a little girl who will only know her grandmother through the memories given to her by others.

My heart is in a home where a husband walks in isolation from his bride of twenty-five years, bumping into remembrances at every turn.

My heart is with two parents who valiantly and gracefully walked hand in hand to bury their daughter; a walk no parent should have to make.

My heart is with extended family, brothers, in-laws, aunt and uncles and cousins enough to fill a sanctuary—all of whom are trying to make sense out of a “life gone too soon.”

My heart is there, everywhere but here. Still and yet, I come and offer it to you for you are my friends, also. I imagine that there are many of you who are walking your own road of grief this day. Life is dishing you out a heavy portion of pain, and you are unsure about what to do with it; how to manage it; where to stuff it, and how to move on from it.

You walk in good company. You are not alone in your weariness of heart of soul. Like you … like so many others … I am walking with my pain. And while it pales in comparison to the grief of a family who knew Beth longer and loved her deeper, it still hurts and leaves me with a few lingering questions.

I won’t tackle these questions today; at least not publicly. Some conversations are best reserved for the private intimacy between Father and child. My faith isn’t based on my questions. My faith supersedes my questions. The questions are simply the road map God uses to draw my heart closer to his.

Graciously, he allows them. Humbly I ask them. Patiently, I wait for the answers. I believe they will come; if not fully, then with at least enough understanding to carry me through to the other side, when “partial” will give way to “complete.”

I can live with that, friends, because I firmly believe that when it’s time for me to “know,” I’ll know. Until then, God’s peace is my guiding comfort. He’s ready and available to me for the asking.

Thus, I ask for peace to cover my questions, my hurts and the hurts of Beth’s loved ones. I don’t ask for “down the road,” I ask for now … for this moment. God is faithful to supply his touch one moment at a time until they collect and gather and become an hour lived in peace. An entire day walked in peace. A week, a month, a year, a lifetime that punctuates with the truth that God’s peace is possible, is real and is active in the hearts of those who bow low enough and long enough to drink from its well.

I’m bowing today. There is peace to be tasted from God’s cup. May you know his ample portion as well. As always,

Peace for the Journey,

~elaine

 

Down the Road

Down the Road

“‘I am the way… ’” (John 14:6).


I had a thought during my devotional time this morning. A quick word for some good friends who, perhaps like me, need a reminder about our “down the road’s.”

We are prone to them, are we not? To our looking down the road, planning our down the road, worrying about our down the road, all the while missing out on the present moments given to us by a gracious God who offers them for our reverent celebration.

We forego the pleasure and peace of a current moment because we allow the heaviness of a down the road future to claim our thoughts, and therefore, shackle our capacity to live in the simplicity of a single pause.

This one. Not in the ones to come somewhere, sometime down the road, but the moment we hold in our hands right now. Do we have enough faith for this kind of living? A faith that is content to live gradually rather than having to see the end before it arrives? How different would our journeys walk if we could take hold of this one truth and embed it into our way of “doing” life?

Not that we don’t plan and prepare with our futures in mind, but rather that we engage each new step with the understanding that our Jesus is our down the road Companion. He goes before us, he comes behind us. He walks beside us. He lives within us. We cannot help but be surrounded by his matchless and unfathomable grace as we go.

We can refuse it. We can close our eyes to his abiding and ever-present comfort and go it alone, trusting in our own feeble attempts at having life make sense. But in doing so, we miss the momentary peace that enables us to live worry-free and in complete trust of a future we cannot see.

I know. My heart writes from a place of understanding. My down the road’s have been all-consuming as of late, denying me the privilege of a moment by moment, peaceful rest.

I can live in a moment, friends. I’m not sure I can handle the holy “rest of them” in a single breath, but I have a down the road Jesus who can. He stands before me this day and asks for my trust. For my complete gaze on his willing sacrifice that enables me to live in a moment and then to move on to the next.

When I place the cross before me, it blocks my vision from the unfolding of events that lie ahead of me. It covers them all and shadows me with a sacred perspective that shouts victory and triumph at every turn.

Jesus is the Way. He is our down the road. He is the pleasure and Peace of our every moment. Live in those moments this day, and let Jesus be your more than enough to see you through to tomorrow. As always,

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PS: One of the pleasures of “momentary” living is embracing the pauses that come to us as we journey down the road. I had one such pleasure last evening in meeting “face to face” another blogging friend, Katie G from Tennessee. I invite you to partake of our moments together via this youtube link. In addition, please keep Katie and her husband, Luke, in your prayers as they are expecting their first child and have some concerns along those lines.

Runner Mom meets Peace for the Journey

Runner Mom meets Peace for the Journey

Welcome to my week! What a great couple of days I’ve had with my new friend Susan (aka… runnermom). Oh the places we’ve been … the stories she’s heard … the food we’ve eaten … the laughter we’ve shared. Please enjoy a brief look at our time together. The only thing better would have been to have more of you sharing the road with us. Shalom.

(the real me… I know, you’re shocked!)

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PS: Winners of the DJ Coles’ CD will be announced with the next post. Sorry, too tired!
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