peace | Elaine Olsen

A Better Thinking

March 9, 2009

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God which transcends all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.” (Philippians 4:6-8).

As Christians, there are some things that we should think about—things worthy of our time and attention and ponderous attention. There are also some things not worthy of our heart’s pause—things that walk contrary to a life that is controlled by and rooted in the Spirit of the living God.

Contrary things walk contrary and breed inconsistencies into the life of a believer. We are forced to grapple with the issue everyday as we seek to live out the tenets of our faith. If not carefully guarded, our hearts become the fertile soil for some seeds that were never meant for the rooting therein.

I know.

Today I host some “bitter seeds,” and I’m confident that bitter doesn’t fall within the “true” and “noble” of Paul’s mindful checklist. Thus, I’m praying the truth of scripture over my wandering thoughts, desiring for God’s peace to be my portion. Always, God’s peace … for the journey.

That’s the heart behind this blog. To give readers an occasion to “pause from the ordinary in order to partake of the Extraordinary.” Peace isn’t an emotion or a temporary state of being. Peace is a person. His name is Jesus, and he intends to be our constant … our Way of doing life, most days in spite of the ebb and flow that works itself into our 24/7.

The “anxious and everything” will always find us. Yours may not look like mine today, but I imagine it to be present. If not in full blown status, then simmering somewhere just beneath the surface of your emotional stable. All of us are but one crisis away from having it voice its loud and its proud into our calm.

Your crisis may not be a huge thing; to the rest of the world, it may seem small and insignificant, but the rest of the world doesn’t live in your world. Your world hosts some tailor made “anxious and everything,” specifically designed to trip your triggers and to expedite your fall accordingly. Instead of recognizing those triggers and bypassing the danger, we allow them their bruising over our lives.

Instead of offering up our prayers and petitions to the only One who can bring peace to our “anxious and everything,” we offer up our own variety of solutions to soothe the ache.

Instead of truth … lies.
Instead of noble … improper.
Instead of right … wrong.
Instead of pure … profane.
Instead of lovely … hateful.
Instead of admirable … defaming.
Instead of excellent … evil.
Instead of praiseworthy … punishment.

Thus, the contrast to Philippians 4:8 …

Whatever is a lie, whatever is improper, whatever is wrong, whatever is profane, whatever is hateful, whatever is defaming, if anything is evil and rife with punishment, think upon such things.[i]

No wonder our worry; no wonder our anxious. No wonder our need to bring everything out into the light and to the foot of the cross for the soothing comfort of a better Peace. Whenever we default to our own solutions of managing the crises that come our way, we are left to the mercy of a depraved mind tilted in the wrong direction and mired in the murky waters of corruptible thinking.

God’s Peace isn’t anchored in that soil. He walked that soil for a season and on our behalf so that our feet wouldn’t have to make the journey. Still and yet, there are days when we choose to marshal our steps along that path, and instead of finding God’s promised Peace, we fuel our “anxious and everything” until it becomes the unmanageable cloaking of our hearts.

It’s a heavy mantle to carry, friends, and a weighing down that I don’t need today; thus, I’m going to take God at his Word, and bring my prayers and petitions to the foot of the cross and leave them there…

*knowing that I’ve been heard.
*believing that my words are kept and held and tended to by the extravagant grace of heaven.
*receiving the Peace that I’ve been promised.

Knowing. Believing. Receiving.

The posture of an uncluttered heart. The hope of this expectant pilgrim. Thus, I pray…

Unclutter me, Father, as I bring it all to your hands and to your understanding this day. I do not want to linger in my bitter and in my confusion. Instead, I give them to you, and ask you to work your will into my way of thinking. Forgive me for trying to manage this one out on my own; instead, teach me to trust you with my “anxious and everything” all the days of my life. You’ve given me your Peace; let my lingering thoughts rest in such a holding today. Amen.

[i] Antithesis based on word study search from The Complete Word Study Dictionary New Testament (Chattannoga: AMG Publishers, 1992).
Copyright © March 2009 – Elaine Olsen

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Snow Days, Hot Chocolate, and a Sacred Trust

January 20, 2009

For Nick … you were the missing piece of our snow day. We love you!

“Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight. Do not be wise in your own eyes; fear the LORD and shun evil. This will bring health to your body and nourishment to your bones.” (Proverbs 3:5-8).

Either we trust God or we don’t.

Today I’m stuck. Somewhere between my trust and my don’t. And since there is no middle ground, I suppose, that I don’t …

trust Him. At least not enough.

On a day intended for snow angels and hot chocolate and lots of lazy—a day designed for the simplicity of childhood understandings—I’m bogged down in the complexities of what I thought was a well-matured faith—a faith content and at peace with the unanswerables.

Instead, where peace usually reigns, there is a wrestling. Where contentedness usually flourishes, there is a mixture of emotions that scream their resistance. Where a well-matured faith usually roots, there seems but a few seedlings fighting for their anchor to the soil.

When my kids woke up this morning, they woke up to a snow day—a day off from school and from their usual routine of mandated learning. When I woke up this morning, I woke up to a day that requires my attendance in God’s classroom, where a mandated learning becomes my necessary if I want to bring health to this body and nourishment to this soul.

If my faith is to grow in its understanding of all things sacred—an understanding that issues from the wisdom and plans of Almighty God rather than my fragile attempts at the same—then I must be willing to lean into a deeper posture of trust.

What does that look like? Better still, how do I … how do we … get there?

King Solomon, rich in wisdom and with the pen to scribe accordingly, offers his voice in the matter.

“Acknowledge him.”

Acknowledge. The Hebrew verb Yada meaning “to know, to learn, to perceive, to discern, to experience, to confess, to consider, to know people relationally, to know how, to be skillful, to be made known, to make oneself known, to make to know.”[i]

To acknowledge the Lord is to simply and to profoundly know him. We lean into a better understanding and trust whenever we take the time to learn of our God, to consider his ways, and to discern his heart and mind in the many matters that fill ours with certain doubt and wavering belief.

To get there … to come to a knowing of our God … we must trust in the one resource that he has so amply provided for us. I’m currently looking at eight of them. Some opened up upon my bed; some waiting on the bookshelf for their turn.

Our Bibles—the living, breathing, and active Holy Word of God (Hebrews 4:12).

It matters not to Him what translation we read. We all host our own preferences. What matters to God is that we, in fact, read them. Ponder them. Find ourselves somewhere within the story which, in turn, always finds us in close proximity to the heart and mind of Father God.

Charles Spurgeon writes (in reference to Jesus Christ),

“He knew by His omniscience what was the most instructive way of teaching, and by turning at once to Moses and the prophets, He showed us that the surest road to wisdom isn’t speculation, reasoning, or reading human books, but meditation upon the Word of God. The quickest way to be spiritually rich in heavenly knowledge is to dig this mine of diamonds, to gather pearls from this heavenly sea. When Jesus Himself sought to enrich others, He worked in the quarry of Holy Scripture.”[ii]

Knowing God will never happen through accidental measure. Rather, it comes with the purposeful pursuit and with the intentional posture that is willing to enter into God’s classroom, where the only required textbook is the one that was written from his heart via the pen of man’s deliberate obedience.

If our paths are to be straight, if our trust is to be certain, if our bodies are to know the health and the nourishment of solid footing and sound theology, then we must be willing to walk contrary to our human nature. We must set aside our momentary need for instant understanding and, instead, rest upon the truth of God’s understanding.

Our wisdom will never exceed his. Our wisdom should be based on his, but even when wisdom seems a far reach—when answers remain at a distance and our doubts arise as to their certain arrival—we can know that our Father thinks with a greater understanding. An eternal knowledge that is timeless and void of the parameters that we so often seek.

I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to limit God’s work in my life. I don’t want the doubt that I currently hold in my hand to be the final word in the matter. I don’t want the answers just for the sake of having answers. Rather, I want to trust him for more. I want to know him more and to believe that with the knowing will come a wisdom that exceeds my current and very temporal way of looking at things.

An understanding that can, every once in a while, take a day off to enjoy the simple faith of child who isn’t worried about tomorrow, but instead, is frolicking in the embrace of winter’s gift. In the trust and belief, that snow angels and hot chocolate are the order of the day and that everything else will takes care of itself, in God’s time and in God’s way. Thus, I pray…

Give me the trust of a snow day, Father, when I can rest and enjoy the moment rather than worrying about the moments to come. Thank you for the gift of your Word that allows me to know you, thus finding my peace for the journey. I freely admit that I cannot understand the road ahead. I am frustrated by the unanswerables that have found their way into my hands. Give me the courage to place them into yours. Teach me the trust and certainty of a sacred leaning, and keep me at your feet until I pass the exam. May the treasures of your Holy Word be the rocks that build my solid and sure foundation for the season to come. Amen.

[i] Baker and Carpenter, entry for “Yada,” The Complete Word Study Dictionary Old Testament (Chattanooga: AMG Publishers, 2003), 3038.
[ii] Charles Spurgeon, entry for “January 18,” Morning and Evening (Hendrickson Publishers, Inc., 1995), 37.

A Noble Stirring…

January 18, 2009

“My heart is stirred by a noble theme as I recite my verses for the king;… Listen, O daughter, consider and give ear; Forget your people and your father’s house. The king is enthralled by your beauty; honor him, for he is you lord.” (Psalm 45:1, 10-11)

What will you say to your King today? How will you honor him with your words?

It is your privilege to say them. To sing them. To write them. To cherish them.

As the bride of Christ, we are given access to his ears … his heart … his attention. This alone, sets him apart from any other “god” in the universe. Our God can be known, and we are delinquent in our pursuit of him when we refuse such access.

When we talk to God, we’re not talking into the air. We’re talking to the Lover of our souls—the one who knitted us together in our inmost and who breathed his proclamation of “goodness” on our behalf. There is nothing that we could bring to him that he cannot absorb. He is willing to receive our deepest secrets and our most tender pleas as though they already belonged to him.

That’s the way of the Bridegroom. He is the protector and keeper of our hearts. He is not surprised by our words, nor is he distressed by our requests. He simply and profoundly can handle it all.

Our God is…

the God of engagement.
the God of willing participation.
the God of unparalleled commitment.
the God who loves despite unloveliness.
the God who graces despite unworthiness.
the God who chooses us to be his bride.
the God who extends his arms, long and wide and high and deep to bridge the chasm between our pitiful estate and his majestic kingdom.

We are the priority of the King, and he has given us access to his throne.

Thus, what will you say to him today? How will you honor him with your heart?

It is your privilege to offer your voice in the matter.

Therefore, speak it boldly with all the confidence of heaven standing in your stead, knowing that your Groom has got you covered. He shed his blood to keep you covered—all the days of your life until you take his hand in yours and walk the aisle into your forever.

I can’t think of a better way to spend a Sunday than to be in prayerful pause before my King. Indeed, my heart is stirred by a nobler theme this day. Thus, I pray…

For your love and for your choosing of me, I honor you this day. I bring my rags and ask for a bride’s dressing. I bring my pain and ask for my Comforter’s heart. I bring my need and ask for my Provider’s provision. I bring my sin and ask for my Savior’s cleansing. I bring my confusion and ask for my God’s wisdom. I bring my prayers and ask for my Lover’s understanding. I bring my hands and ask for my Groom’s holding. I bring my life and ask for my kingdom crown. I bring it all today, to you my King, and ask for your favor, knowing that you are Faithful and True and that you delight in giving good gifts to your bride. My heart is stirred by your nobility and your willingness to allow me my share in your forever kingdom. Keep me mindful; keep me humble; keep me grateful for my noble bestowment. It is my privilege to sing your honor this day. Amen.

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Crossroads

January 9, 2009

“This is what the LORD says: ‘Stand at the crossroads and look; ask for the ancient paths, ask where the good way is, and walk in it, and you will find rest for your souls. But you said, ‘We will not walk in it.’” (Jeremiah 6:16).

“If you write conviction, elaine, you’d better live conviction or else be prepared for conviction to find its way to your table.”

God’s message to me in my spirit moments ago. Fast and certain and with resolute clarity while I was washing my face. I kept repeating it for fear that I would forget it before finding my pen. It happens sometimes. God impresses his thoughts upon my heart, and I cannot help but give them ample room to grow. To breathe their depth as I take the time to unpack them before God and his Word.

Tonight I unpack them alongside the prophet Jeremiah’s pen as he scripted God’s heart to a people who had lost their way. To God’s dearly beloved, who were instructed to stand at the crossroads and to examine the path before them. Behind them. To the left and to the right of them, and then to ask God for his directional good—those ancient paths that secured safe passage to his place of rest.

His heart.

It would have been easy for them to find their way home if they had been willing to stand at the crossroads. But they weren’t, they didn’t, and consequently, they found themselves on the road toward a restless exile and a formidable captivity. Nothing good and certainly no rest came for those who were adamant to keep walking without pausing at the crossroads.

God’s crossroads, not theirs.

We all come to a crossroads at least once in our lives. Some of us, multiple times. Whether we mean it or not, we are quick to mouth its refrain.

(I’m standing at a crossroads, and I don’t know what to do. Where to turn. What path to take. What wisdom to choose.)

I understand. I’ve said as much even this day. But there is a danger in our paying lip service to our crossroads. As God’s children, dearly loved and carefully protected, when we come to a crossroads in our journey, he asks more of us than simply an approach to the process. He means for us to fully engage with its truth.

To come to the center of the matter. Where beam meets beam. Where horizontal hammers into vertical. Where wood and nails collide. Where faith and flesh intersect to bleed the witness of a sacred juncture.

When we do that … when we stand smack dab in the middle of Christ’s crossroads … it is easy to discern the good and ancient path that will secure us safe passage to God’s rest. When we center our lives at the heart of his willing sacrifice, no matter the direction we turn—whether before or behind, to the left or to the right—we are bathed in the lavish cover of a Father’s love.

We are reminded of just how far he traveled on our behalf so that we, like the ancients of old, could find our way home.

The problem? Many of us never make it that far. We choose the perimeter of the cross because, quite frankly, the center bleeds too red. Too messy and too fully. We deem our standing at the cross with Jesus as enough; but God calls each one of us to something greater.

He asks for us to stand in the crossroads with him.

Then, and only then, will we be able to measure the worth of God’s intended rest and peace for our lives. It’s a peace I want for always. My heart’s desire is to walk the path of the ancients and to rest in God’s good as I go.

Thus, this night I write the conviction of my heart. I am prepared to live its depth so that conviction doesn’t re-visit my lip service with the poke and prod of a Father’s hurt.

Tonight I am willing to walk to Calvary because I feel deeply in need of doing so. In many ways, I seem to be standing at a crossroads. There are decisions to be made. Big ones. Ones that not only involve my future, but ones that also include the future of those whom I love the most.

Rather than stand at the perimeter of the cross, I’m going in. To its center in order to stand where Christ has stood and to receive the cleansing truth of my salvation. I believe that my vision will be clearer there. That wisdom will be more readily available, and that the path of the ancients will present itself so that I might walk in it and receive God’s good and needful rest.

Perhaps, like me, you’re sensing the need to walk your heart toward a deeper point of surrender. Your life is at a crossroads, and the only thing you’re certain of is your uncertainty about what lies ahead. Would you join me on the road as we walk the beams of our Savior’s bloody surrender until we come to the heart of the matter? Would you, this day, be willing to live your convictions all the way into the center of his sacrifice? If so, then may the prayer of my heart belong to you as well…

Father, your cross is serious business. Forgive me for thinking that I can stand at a distance and see clearly the path that you would have me to follow. Thank you for the conviction that leads me into the center of your surrender and that baths me in the truth of your love. Baptize my feeble understanding with your wisdom that bleeds pure and true and full of insight so that I can find my way through the chaos that is pressing in ever so tightly and so certain. Bring me to your crossroads in my many matters, and show me the path of the ancients. Keep me, then, to that secure path until I find my way to your heart and to your good and promised rest for my journey. You are my life’s end. Bring me safely to my perfected conclusion. Amen.

~elaine

PS: Friends, I ask for your prayers tonight, not just for me but for all who are standing at a crossroads and need the widsom of a standing “in” with Jesus at the helm. If you’re struggling and you need a friend, please feel free to email me your thoughts or leave a request in the comment section. To read an excellent post about conviction, please visit LauraLee for further thought and inspiration. Shalom.

The Increasing Truth

December 3, 2008

“For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Of the increase of his government and peace there will be no end. He will reign on David’s throne and over his kingdom, establishing and upholding it with justice and righteousness from that time on and forever. The zeal of the LORD Almighty will accomplish this.” (Isaiah 9:6-7).

In a world seemingly content with its fluctuation between hot and cold and highs and lows, and with a Christmas season that houses a propensity for the same, I need some truth. Hot and cold is not my preference. The shifting sands of uncertain seasons prickle my spirit with discord and blanket my flesh with a fresh dose of frenzy. Be it the political arena, the stock market, international unrest, or the changing “wish lists” for Santa on the home front, I need a hope. A fully substantial truth that will sustain me through this season and into the next.

Finding the real and what’s true amidst the wrappings of a temporal flux rarely surfaces by accident. Truth’s finding comes through intention. Through a deliberate focus that refuses the chaos and, instead, accepts the responsibility to chart one’s course accordingly. To slice through the wrappings and the trappings of a decorated peace in order to find the pure, unadulterated truth that breathes raw and undefiled and full of the living, breathing pulse of heaven.

Truth is our needful portion and to arrive at its core, we must be willing to break pace with the world’s cadence—a rhythm that is leading to our quick and certain suffocation. Time to cut the junk. Cut the flap. Cut the verbiage that so willingly spews its polished spin so as to make “all that currently is” an easier swallow. Just give it to me straight, for I am bit weary from the strain of making “all that currently is”… make sense. I simply and profoundly need…

simple and profound.

Thankfully, the prophet Isaiah is willing to afford me both.

He tells me about the promised Son. About a Wonderful Counselor, a Mighty God, an Everlasting Father, and a Prince named Peace. Lingering in the truth of our Savior’s multi-labeling is enough to wrap my weary into a manageable portion. After all, who couldn’t use some of God’s counseling and mighty and everlasting peace in this season?

But Isaiah takes it further. He tells me something more about my Jesus. Something so simply profound that I often miss it in favor of his divine labeling.

My Savior’s kingdom and his peace are on the rise.

“Of the increase of his government and peace there will be no end.”

Never once have they diminished, even though the world continues to offer its voice to the contrary. With every passing moment since Bethlehem’s arrival, the weight of our Savior’s cloaking has increased. The government that rests upon his shoulders is bigger now than it has ever been—2000 years and counting worth of increase.

No matter the critics. No matter the chaos. No matter the sin. No matter all manner of fluctuations that breathe with the only certainty that life is uncertain. Hot and cold is of little influence when it comes to Christ and his government.

It’s growing. With every passing day and in wild and unimaginable ways, our Father’s peaceful “kingdom come” is coming closer, pulsing louder, and feeling the weight of a full gestation. What is soon to be birthed will far exceed our understanding. We cannot see it now. Our world is filled with clouded confusion. But we will see it soon. Until then, of this we can be sure.

The length and width and height and depth of God’s loving and lavish conclusion will blanket the earth with the simple and profound truth of what’s been growing all along.

His increase. Every time…

A prayer is whispered.
His Word is read.
His name is spoken.
An offering is made.
A hymn is sung.
A child imagines the Sacred.
An adult imagines the same.
A sinner bows.
A prodigal returns.
A surrender is made.
A tear is tendered to throne.
A deed is done in God’s name.
A heart believes.
A mustard seed is planted.
A miracle breathes.
A miracle waits.
An altar is filled.
The truth is felt.
The truth is spoken.
The truth is lived.

Every day, in chosen and in unseen ways, our Savior’s kingdom increases. And lest we think otherwise, lest we are tempted to believe that hell is gaining the upper hand, let us remember that where and when sin increases, grace increases all the more (Romans 5:20-21).

We stand on the winning side. God’s increase is on the rise. Always. His is not a decreasing kingdom but rather one of a lush and gaining abundance. And that, dear friends, is the pure, unadulterated truth that I need this season. He is the Anchor I can hang my hope on for always.

Long ago, I cast my lot with God’s kingdom. I’ve not always witnessed the increase in my own walk of faith, but I am certain of his. And somehow that frees me from the burden of needing to see it all up front. When I cannot imagine the wealth and bounty of this one moment, he can. He does. He carries it with him wherever he goes, from Bethlehem to now and into the great, wild beyond.

That is substantial. That is the Truth. That is, simply and profoundly, all this heart needs to know to make “all that currently is”… make sense. Thus I pray,

When I cannot see your increase Lord, remind me of your shoulders and your weighty worth that allows you to carry the unseen treasures of your coming kingdom. Thank you for a glimpse of the imponderable … for an imagination that imagines such beauty and for the faith to believe it most certain. Carry me there, in the middle of your abundance, on your shoulders and as your prize. Forgive me when I am tempted to limit your increase by visioning less and by believing less. You are more and big and beyond the articulations of my understanding. Keep me in captive awareness of your hugeness, and let your growing peace be my portion in this season. How I love you more for allowing me your profound amidst my simple. Amen.

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How’s your season unpacking, friends? I’d like to unpack it a little further with a prize or two. Just leave a comment, and I will surprise you by week’s end. Also, if you have a special need or prayer request, please feel free to email me or leave it in the comment section. I would love to pray for you this week. Shalom.

Category Archives: peace