I Said Yes

From birth I was cast upon You, from my mother's womb You have been my God. Psalm 22:10

So, yes the baptism was great. It wasn't a Damascus Road experience, and a hungry turtle did nip a bit at our feet, but I did feel loved and safe and happy and God was there. I didn't really invite anyone because I was afraid they might feel obligated to come. But somehow word got out and people showed. Some obvious ones, and some pretty random. Several people gave me verses that day, including:

The LORD your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing. Zephaniah 3:17

For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline. 2 Timothy 1:7

For Zion's sake, I will not keep silent, for Jerusalem's sake, I will not remain quiet, till her vindication shines out like the dawn, her salvation like a blazing torch. The nations will see your vindication, and all kinds your glory; you will be called by a new name that the mouth of the LORD will bestow. You will be a crown of splendor in the LORD's hand, a royal diadem in the hand of your God. No longer will they call you Deserted, or name your land Desolate. But you will be called Hephizabah, and your land Beulah; for the LORD will take delight in you, and your land will be married. As a young man marries a young woman, so will your Builder marry you; as a bridegroom rejoices over his bride, so will your God rejoice over you. Isaiah 62:1-5

We were asked to write a testimony to be read at the service. Here is mine:

"I don't think I ever truly stopped believing in God. Over the years I just grew to believe He hated me and had abandoned me because my life wasn't going according to plan. And so I hated Him back, because it is easier for me to lash out in anger than admit sadness. Sadness just makes me feel hopeless.

"I was in a very low state several years ago, having been flattened relationally, financially, everything. One night I was up late. I felt like I was toeing the line of sanity. I didn't know what to do but for some reason I started praying. I didn't feel any different, but after a series of strange "coincidences", I soon found myself at church. I hadn't attended a church regularly since I was a very young child. While most of me fought the feelings I had there, I found myself every Monday morning wishing it was Sunday just so I could go back and feel that way again.

"At the same time, Christian reinforcement was coming out of the woodwork. Some friends from the past that I didn't even realize had become Christians had started to call a lot. A few coworkers began to witness to me. Some extended family started asking questions. I now know that during that time, God was surrounding me in a network of support. But I was pretty stubborn and it took me almost a year of going to church and arguing by email, phone and in person to everyone who would talk to me, before I got to the point where I chose God. I was saved in a Sunday service during communion.

"I am so thankful for what God has done for me over the last few years, but I chose the life verse from Psalms 22:10 – From birth I was cast upon You, from my mother's womb, You have been my God, because I have begun to realize that His pursuit was not as recent as it originally seemed. I now understand that He's been chasing me my whole life, slowly and patiently working on me day by day. I was just that two years ago, I finally gave up, surrendered, and let Him catch me.

"And now everything has changed."

Dunk n' GoNuts

As soon as Jesus was baptized, he went up out of the water. At that moment heaven was opened, and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and lighting on him. And a voice from heaven said, "This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased." Matthew 3:16-17

So, I am a very sensory person. And I long to feel God. I hear stories all the time of people experiencing God's presence in amazing ways. But I have found what I've thought would be my most important moments with God to be quite disappointing when held up to the sensory standards and expectations I've placed them against.

I was saved in a Sunday service. Internally, I was an emotional wreck during the process. And for all my "troubles" - pushing through my anxiety and surrendering myself to God - I was expecting something amazing in return: a spine tingle and goosebumps, the hallelujah choir, a beam of sunshine upon me, or at least a few doves flying around somewhere. Something. Anything! But I felt nothing. And so I suspected that nothing had happened. Looking back, I now know that is not true. I know that my new life was set into motion that day. But I longed to feel it like so many others claim.

I think everytime I do something God-ish, I have somehow come to expect these moments of feeling an intimate, personal communion with Him. And I become disappointed when I don't get them. Maybe it's my fault. Maybe it's me not noticing Him in the midst of my nerves over surrendering. Or perhaps God does back away from me a bit sometimes. Because it seems to me that He only gives us what we want once we finally realize it is not what we need. And I think God has had to give my rational mind plenty of lessons on believing despite sensory evidence.

1 Peter 1:7-8 says, These have come so that your faith may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy.

And so, yeah, I get baptized tomorrow. The past has taught me to approach this day in full expectation that it will probably feel simply like people watching me get dunked in a lake. And that is fine, because I am not doing it to get anything, but to tell the world that God rocks and I'm on board.

But while I am sure it will be an ok experience in itself, part of me can't help but hope it will be something more than just going through the motions. I want to feel something. (And since we are supposed to be specific about our prayers, I'd like to add that fish or water snakes or any other marine creatures swimming around my person is not the kind of thing I'd like to feel). I am not sure what exactly I am looking for, but I'm positive I'd know if I got it.

Either way, I know that God and I will both be present. And only good can come from such an intersection.

Turn On Your Heartlight: A Theory

I will praise the LORD, who counsels me; even at night my heart instructs me. Psalm 16:7

(Yes, the title of this blog is a Neil Diamond song. You'd better step off. I love me some Neil!)

So, anyway, I read a book the other day and one of the chapters talked about a guy who was good at "listening for the whispers of God". He would see words and phrases in the everyday world around him and conclude that God was trying to communicate because of it. An example they gave was a phrase on a water bottle and another on the back of someone's T-shirt. I've found myself noticing repetition in everything over the last year or so. So much so, that I've been keeping track of such things in my journal, trying to see if any of it means anything or comes to pass. Repetitions of scripture, songs, concepts, words in the every day world; things that seem silly, but somehow feel larger than their natural state.

I asked one of my pastors what he thought about God speaking that way. He told me he believed God communicates with people in many different ways, and he believed that could be one of them. I struggled with the idea though. Because it seemed a little too Ouiji board/horoscope/tea leaves-ish to me. Doesn't it sound rather psychotic to think God would direct me by surrounding me in specific beverages? Or that He speaks to me through clothing?

But more recently I've started to see it in a different light. Not that God is putting objects in my way to remind me of things. But that perhaps those are just normal objects that mean something different because something in me has changed.

St. John of the Cross says that, "God Himself feeds and refreshes the soul without the active participation of her discursive mind...God transmits his secret teachings to the soul and instructs her...He supernaturally imparts His divine wisdom...She does not have to do a thing, nor will she understand a thing... Contemplatives call it infused contempation or mystical theology."

Lately I've been waking up mentally humming worship music, finding myself mid-song before I am even fully aware of my state or surroundings. I've also been waking with theological words or concepts in mind, the details of which quickly slip away upon the coming of morning like those of a good dream. God surely is a part of my night. Which makes me wonder - perhaps He is downloading information into me as I sleep. Things I can't possibly understand because I'm not divine. And then waking me morning by morning, wakening my ear to listen like one being taught (Isaiah 50:4).

John 14:16-17, 26 says, I will ask the Father, and He will give you another advocate to help you and be with you forever - the Spirit of truth. The Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you.

So, best I can attempt to theorize: since I have the Holy Spirit in me, perhaps when I come across a normal word or phrase, the part of me that is spirit (the tiny part of me that has the capacity to understand the imparted information), sees these words and resonates within me ever so slightly in this moment of soulful deja vu - my spirit gently pulsing in recognition of the divine like the warm glow of ET's heartlight in response to the mothership's return.

But, because it is impossible for me in my limited humanness to decipher such information, I must settle for an undefinable awareness, a knowledge of merely the existence of some important yet hidden truth. Rather like a lost name on the tip of one's tongue, unable to be recalled but there nonetheless...

Auto Kabod-o

[Note:This is part 4 of 4 in a series. Please read Kabod Crane, iKabod Shuffle and Please Sir, May I Have Another? to sufficiently understand the following blog.]

Holy, holy, holy is the LORD Almighty; the whole earth is full of His glory. Isaiah 6:3

Ok, well, you're never going to believe me. You are probably going to think I made this up because it's just way too perfect. But seriously, it happened. I think God is messing with me. I love it.

So, I've been praying for God to put me in uncomfortable situations, to teach me to boldly walk up my personal Mt. Sinai's instead of running away scared. And Sunday night, I got what I asked for - my big opportunity. I'd like to say I confidently forged forth, but boy, did I RUN! It was not even close. A total loss. And I was really beating myself up about it.

I drove home thinking about my loserish self, who seemingly continues to regress day after day instead of growing and improving. In the midst of my self-flagellation, I was getting ready to turn into my apartment complex when I noticed the car in front of me had a Maryland license plate...with a crane on it. I guess it's possible it was a heron or an egret, (I'm not a member of The Audabon Society), but I smiled nonetheless and thought how kind God was to remind me of His presence in the middle of that painful moment. I realized that He has not given up on me, that He has not lost all hope, despite the fact that I have entertained the truthiness of those very ideas.

Anyway, when I left for work this morning, I drove out of the apartments and entered the very same intersection. I remembered the crane plate and smiled. In front of me sat a nice, shiny, white Lexus. The personalized license plate on it? K-A-B-O-D.

KABOD! Seriously! For real! No lie!

Tee hee. Silly God. Love, love, love... :)

I'm Dying, Here!

To come to the pleasure you have not, you must go by a way in which you enjoy not.
St. John of the Cross

So, one of our pastors did a sermon on the power vs. the presence of God. He said that the power of God is meant for one use - to usher people into the presence of God, but that many people never cross the line into His presence. He discussed the biblical scene in Exodus when Israel set at the base of Mt. Sinai. When God began to show His power in big ways, most of Israel took off. Moses alone walked up the mountain and into the presence of God.

He asked us, why do you think the rest ran from God's presence?

Tommy Tenney writes in his book The God Chasers:
"With one hand, [God says], 'Call Me closer and I will come because I want to come near.' Yet at the same time, He holds out His other hand in warning while saying, 'Be careful. If you're going to get any closer, make sure that everything is dead. If you really want to know Me, then everything must die.' So, when we beg for God to come closer, He will, but He also says, 'I can't really get any closer, because if I do, your flesh will be destroyed. I want you to understand that if you will just go ahead and die, then I can come near you.' That is why repentance and brokenness - the New Testament equivalent of death - brings the manifest presence of God so near."

So, we are only able to draw near to God, and He to us, when we die to self. Perhaps this fear of death, this repulsion of self-sacrifice, is why the Israelis shoved Moses forward while taking themselves two steps back. David Crowder has a song called Everybody Wants To Go To Heaven, But Nobody Wants To Die. I understand this paradox.

I remember how terrified I was to do anything "religious" when I was first saved. Even now, I am often anxious. I get more wigged out than most around religion. I'm not sure why. Everytime I find myself having to do something religiously scary, I say things like, "I'm dying!" or "You're killing me!" Seems a bit overdramatic, but the fear I feel is real.

I realized awhile back that if such tiny things like talking with someone or having someone pray for me caused such a large recoil reaction, it was more than likely something that involved God, something He probably wanted me to do, and so I should probably do it. Sometimes I did.

But now I am starting to realize that my panicked reactions of "I'm dying!" and "You're killing me!" were more true than I knew at the time. I do pray and ask God to draw near. And He says, Ok, but you have to die a bit first. When I soon find myself in a situation that requires me to step out in faith, I either back away like the scared Israelis at Mt. Sinai (mostly), or walk toward Him like Moses (rarely).

When I do attempt to take a step forward, what I experience is a sort of death. It is, as Roberta Flack would say, killing me softly. At least the parts of me that aren't of God. My fleshly self has to be pruned, the ungodly bits of me removed like the excess growth on a Disney World topiary. But after I writhe around for a bit, cringing at the torture invoked by these mini self-ocides, my reward is that God and I can take one step closer.

I am learning to rejoice in the midst of the agony of it all, because I know the eventual end outweighs the means.

Please Sir, May I Have Another?

One thing I do know. I was blind but now I see! John 9:25

Seriously? You want another story about my kabod crane? Personally I thought the whole subject was getting quite old, like an overplayed American Idol hit. But I am devoted to my public, all three of you, so I will cater to your commands. I promise to at least keep this one short.

So, today when I was running around the lake, I passed my kabod crane at the .5 mile mark. Or so I thought. Then I passed another at the mile mark. And another near the 1.5 mile mark. I've never seen more than one crane. So maybe it was the same guy, following me around the lake, popping up here and there, around every corner. But I think it's kind of cool that once you choose to believe, you start seeing signs of God's glory everywhere you look.

(If you are reading this and you don't know what my kabod crane is...well, shame on you. You haven't been reading my blog faithfully. Why do you hate America? But there is hope. Check out Kabod Crane and iKabod Shuffle).

iKabod Shuffle

My son, give glory to the LORD, the God of Israel, and give him the praise. Joshua 7:19(a)

After reading about kabod (God's glory) and Ichabod (no glory or God's glory departing) for my last blog, I came across a discussion on these words in another book. However, this particular book used the original spelling for Ichabod - ikabod. And I thought it quite fitting that the only literal, as well as figurative, difference between the two - being in the midst of God's glory and being removed from His glory - is putting "I" (ourselves) before kabod (God's glory).

I wonder if God was thinking about that when he created grammar.

Kabod Crane

She named the boy Ichabod, saying, “The glory has departed from Israel” – because of the capture of the ark of God and the deaths of her father-in-law and her husband. 1 Samuel 4:21

Two weeks ago I started running again after an extended delay from a messed up knee. Previous to this injury, I had been running six miles a day, but the exercise sabbatical has taken its toll on my body. I was only able to run about half a mile before stopping to walk the rest of the 2.2 miles around the lake. Everyday I attempt to increase my distance by a little bit more. A new iPod full of worship music has helped motivate me to keep going. It also directs my focus to God as I jog through His creation and ponder His ways.

By the beginning of last week I had worked up to the one-mile mark. As I walked from there on, my thoughts again turned to God. Around the one and a half mile mark, I came to a turn in the bridge. Sitting in the water, amidst the normal assundry of ducks, was a beautiful crane. Its long legs were jutting out of the water, its pointy beak arched upwards, confident. “Hi, crane!” I said, as I passed. (Yes, I talk to birds.) The long, thin head rotated so its eyes could follow me as I turned the corner and walked up the next hill and back into the cover of the trees.

The next day I ran a bit further before I started to walk. Soon, I strolled into the same clearing, there again sat my new buddy, the crane, looking so dignified. It fluffed its feathers as I passed. I chose to interpret that motion as a friendly wave. I returned the greeting.

The following day I was feeling strong, the day was cool, and the worship music thumping. It propelled me onward, this time all the way to the point of my friend, Señor Crane. As I reached him I slowed and smiled. I was happy he was able to share in my newest victory.

Day 4, I ran again. I was not feeling as powerful as the day before. It was humid and thunderstormy. The rain-soaked pants I sported stuck to my legs, making me feel claustrophobic. I told myself, “no distance backsliding”…that I had to at least run to the crane again. And as I turned that familiar corner, there he was. Just a few more steps…a few more…

But just then, his large wings unfolded and up he flew! The graceful pose he maintained in the water evolved into rather gawky-looking, bottom heavy flight. He lumbered down a ways, over the bridge, and plopped back into the water on the other side. I was slightly annoyed by my delayed reprieve, but then smiled a bit at how similar he was to a perky aerobics teacher, "And three more, and two more, and one more.......and just ten more!" So I kept true to my promise to “run to the crane.” As we once again met, I smiled and said hello as I stopped to walk.

That night I finished reading a book that explored how to listen for God’s voice. It referenced the story from 1 Samuel where Samuel learns to distinguish God’s voice from Eli’s. After reading through that small passage, I wanted more, so I started at the beginning of 1 Samuel and read through Chapter 4 before going to bed. Chapter 4 tells the story of the Philistines stealing the Ark of the Covenant from Israel. In response to the glory of the Lord being stolen from Israel, one of the Israeli women in the chapter gives birth to a son and names him "Ichabod". The name immediately made me think of Ichabod Crane, the character from the scarytale "Legend of Sleepy Hollow".

Now, I'm not sure if it was a sweet dream about my friend Mr. Crane or a nightmare about Ichabod Crane and the headless horseman, but somehow in the middle of the night, the two characters entwined, and I woke up with major crane on the brain.

That morning as I was looking in my commentary about the passages I had read the night before, I noticed that it said Ichabod means "no glory" while conversely kabod means "God's glory".

As my thoughts again strayed to Ichabod Crane, his surname called to mind my little friend out their on the lake. And unlike Ichabod Crane - this "no glory Crane" of spooky tales - I thought that perhaps my friend at the lake was my kabod crane, my "glory crane" - a little angel sent from God to make me smile, to motivate and push me further when I felt like giving up, to act as a sign that He will always be there for me, rain or shine.

Afterwards, I got online to check my email. I opened my Scripture of the Day to see: "The LORD will send His angel before you," Genesis 24:7; "God also is bearing witness by signs and wonders," Hebrews 2:4; and the prayer, "Creator of all, heaven and earth are full of your glory," and I chuckled.

Perhaps you think I am reading too far into things. Perhaps I am. Perhaps it is just a crane. But Charles Stanley says it is not only appropriate, but it is our duty, as a child of God, walking in the Spirit, to look for the handiwork, the footprint, and the handprint of almighty God in every single situation of life. And I am choosing to believe.

Roller Coasters

Glorify the LORD with me; let us exalt His name together. I sought the LORD, and he answered me; he delivered me from all my fears. Those who look to him are radiant; their faces are never covered with shame. Psalm 34:4-5

When I was a child, my dad somehow convinced me to ride a big roller coaster with him on our trip to Disney World. As we started slowly chugging upward, I was filled with overwhelming fear. I turned to him and said, "Can you ask them to stop the ride? I don't want to do this anymore." He laughed and tried to calm me, but I said, "No really, I need to get off the ride." He tried to explain that it was too late. I reasoned that "If they only knew how scared I was, they would stop it for me!" But at that point, the point of no return, we were off, and no amount of my tears would stop gravity. His helpful advice was to close my eyes, hold on tight and "don't forget to scream!"

Sometimes I feel this same gripping fear when it comes to being bold for God. When I first got saved, everything in regards to religion was scary to me. Faced with a simple task such as introducing myself to a pastor or talking with someone about God felt like slowly clicking up the rickety tracks to the apex of a wild ride. I often would find myself panicking and running away from the situation in fear, telling God, "Turn off the ride! I want to get off!" And because He knows me and every inch of my gigantic, irrational fear, in most cases God has let me get off the ride until I can re-collect my nerves.

Lately though, I've been feeling more like God has climbed up next to me, looked me square in the face and said, "April, now you're just stalling. The time has come to ride the ride. Just trust me."

After my traumatic experience at Disney World, I spent many years at theme parks avoiding the bigger rides. But watching my excited friends having such fun while I sat on the sidelines holding their sunglasses made me long to join in. So, one day nearing the close of my senior year in high school, spurred by my own disappointment-fueled anger, I just jumped up and did it. I rode a scary ride. And I survived. And all I could think when it was over was - AGAIN!

Casting Crowns sings, "I wish I had the kind of faith it takes to climb out of the boat again, on to the crashing waves. To step out of my comfort zone, into the realm of the unknown where Jesus is." I often pray for this kind of faith. And God has been faithful in return. He has grown me in my desire for more awkwardness, more uncomfortable situations, more anything if it will mold me into what He wants me to be. And when I am of sound mind and body, I beg Him for these things - for God to push me, to grow me, to basically bring it on. But in the midst of fear, it's terribly hard to ask for MORE.

But, just like the disappointment found in living vicariously through others' experiences at the amusement park, today I see other people living the life I want to live for God. And I am tired of sitting out, of skulking passively on the sidelines, removed from all the action.

Third Day has a song called Take From Me with the lyrics, "Please take from me my life when I don't have the strength to give it away to You, Jesus." And this is my newest prayer - that God wouldn't wait for me to be 100% OK with His plans for me. That He would start ignoring my frightened pleas to "Stop!", forcefully weaning me from the insulated waiting room I've been residing in for so long now - even if that means the only other option is to close my eyes, hold on tight and SCREAM!

So, yeah - for my first ride: I'm getting baptized on July 30th.

[Woooooshh] "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!"

No Beginner's Luck?

So, I wrote in my blog More, More, More about how I want more of God immediately. How is that for patience? Anyway, I recently read this in Dark Night of the Soul, by St. John of the Cross...

"Imperfections of Spiritual Greed and Gluttony Suffered by Beginners:"

"Many beginners are discontent with the spirituality God has given them. They go around melancholy and petulant because they cannot access the consolation they crave in their spiritual practices. They are greedy. There are the ones who cannot get enough of listening to spiritual counsels, of studying religious precepts, of acquiring and consuming sacred literature. Their efforts are imbalanced toward these pursuits and away from the simple commitment to cultivating inner poverty of spirit.

"Those who begin well and progress along their path are the souls who are not interested in knowing more than is necessary to do good works. They set their eyes on God alone, on being right with him. This is their passion! Others have no patience to wait for God to give them what they need when He sees fit.

"Hardly any beginners, no matter how excellent their progress, avoid falling into some of the myriad imperfections of spiritual gluttony, tempted by the sweet flavors of their initial spiritual experiences. Many, seduced by the delights they discover in spiritual practice, strive more for these tasty juices than for the spiritual purity and wisdom that God is really after throughout the spiritual journey. So eager to partake of holy rites, they fail to partake with purity and perfection. The kind of boldness we speak of is a particularly dangerous thing and will only bring harm.

"In ceremonies, beginners may strain to squeeze out feelings of pleasure, instead of offering humble praise and reverence to God within themselves. They are so attached to reaping a sensual harvest, that when no such feelings come, they think they have failed. This is a negative judgment against God. Don't they realize that the sensory benefits are the least of the gifts offered by the divine? They desire to feel and taste of God as if he were comprehensible and accessible, not only in group worship, but in private spiritual practice, as well. This is an imperfection; it is impurity of faith, in opposition to the divine nature. Such souls give everything over to the pursuit of spiritual gratification and consolation.

"Beginners like these never get tired of reading sacred literature. They dedicate themselves to one meditation and then another, in constant search of some pleasure in the things of God. Those who are inclined toward gratification are generally lazy and reluctant to tread the rough road to union."

Ok, so......crap! Back to square one, then? (Sigh...)

I'm glad God loves me even when I'm the poster child for imperfection.