Of Grace and Grief and Gratefulness...

I've struggled quite a bit recently with keeping my heart and eyes down on the page here.... keeping my hand on the plow right in front of me, rather than letting my eyes drift to a dream, a fiction future that has no roots in reality.   I wonder how long the Father will keep us here, use us here?  When can we live nearer to family, know the great grands and grandparents and cousins and all better?  When will our kids get to go to a school?  When might our family be able to find a grassy field and run and play together?  When can we buy groceries that we enjoy, pull into the driveway and offload them right into the kitchen?  When can I find any book I need at the library?  When a church? When a home with a yard? When a dog?  When could we call all that our very own?

There's been a bit of a new kind of grieving, a new season of dying to self, for me lately.   I've never had such grown up kids to imagine futures for before... and now that I do, seeing their future here kinda scares me.  Lord, give me faith.  Help me to die to myself and lean hard into You for this.  

For most of the eleven years we've been in China, we've felt like China is home.  We're used to things here... the kids' bunk beds and their own pillows, their favorite toys and books.  We do life here well... at least we're used to living in the rut we've dug for ourselves and it works.  (Though I'm still illiterate!!)

And this is actually a great grace....  What a gift to not be able to call America or our human rights or culture comforts "mine."  Because even for Americans, none of it is promised you or due you or actually, fully yours.  Its a tender help that living here enforces this view of how alien we really are.... It's true:  We don't belong here.  Nothing in this world is Ours.  This is a sweet grace that I pray our kids won't miss being shaped by.

May they, may we, always know that we were made to be pilgrims in this world, made for an unfallen world with our King and Maker as The Glorious Light and Center.  We were made to be in the world and not of it, to be radically serving, radically loving, poured out offerings, exuberant evidence of JOY Himself, undistracted and unhindered- not storing up junk for ourselves here....  May they, may we, be heaven-smitten, cross-captured, simple sheep, delighters in this God of Majesty that made us for Himself, well worn as His image bearers bringing His kingdom down.

a similar scene, taken a few years ago in the south of our province

Two weeks ago, as I was walking home from the veggie shop, I stared into the face of a little beauty whose eyes were right level with mine.  I walked not too far behind her daddy and she stared at me right over his shoulder.   I was a little shocked to think of how deeply I'd miss her, miss all this one day, whenever we might not be here anymore.  

I'd have to find a way to bring it with me.  To capture it and capsulate something of the beauty-wonder-pain-sorrow-joy mix that it is for us to live here....

How could I ever contain in any way what it means that we live here now?  There's no amount of photography or video that could tuck these relationships,  these 360 degrees and depths of sights and smells, these expectations and assumptions of what's so everyday regular here, these experiences into any others in the world....   The six of us, who see it together, who process it and are growing up in our own K ways on this side of the earth while it wildly spins...This is ours, in a way.  (Just like every family gets to say.)  This mess of what we love and what we'd love to leave... this is our home, our place, the city we share with this precious mix of neighbors that will never fully understand, but brokenly fully love, and one day may never be with again anywhere in history, except before the Throne.

As I watched that little girl, I was pierced with grief, grief that was somehow all smothered in gratitude, for the life that the Father has given us in this great city.  Oh may You take our frailty and weakness and every crack in the pots that we are in your hands, and shine through us, Father.  Shine through us, your grace.

Thank You, that giving thanks for this land has been such a healing for my heart in this way, Lord.   Help me to live here, now...   slow and worshipful, rich in relationships, serving with joy.


______


So this has become a new hope for me.  I'm dreaming of and drafting up a few more posts that I want to link together under the label "U-Town".  I hope it will give you insight and joy and fuel prayers for the city and people we love and I hope and trust it will fortify my own heart too....

Homesick: Hurting for Orlando

#prayforOrlando is a huge pull on our hearts these days as we grieve from too far away, such tragic losses, such gross violence and pure EVIL in a city we love most dearly.... the city where we met and married, where our first son was born, where so many, so very dear ones live.

We are grieving for families and broken hearts and lives shattered by this wickedness of two shootings in one weekend.

May the Lord speak His true Word into all the brokenness across Orlando... for comfort, for hope, for healing, for drawing many to the Truth of Who He is and how we need Him and that He is good,  truly good, fully good.... even though this world is full of wickedness.  May Orlando lift up their eyes to see the loving Father, the suffering Savior, the present Comforter and may His peace be known in your hearts there now...

Mornings Together... Getting ready for the World, rooted in the Word

She got The Biggest Story (by DeYoung) as her 5 year old birthday gift and now she calls it "my Bible"...  We'll get her a biggie of the real deal when she's reading a bit better but we just delight that she loves to try to track along with Daddy's reading.  She's got a good record of finding a pic in "her Bible" that goes along with what Matt's reading so far.  So soo super sweet!

make him a man after your own heart, God!

... and this one too, please, Lord!
(Honest, we're working, still working, on "learning posture" to show honor when it's due!)

Apparently, "learning posture" is a bit hard to find at our house sometimes...  but she's been writing songs of Jesus love that are beautiful beyond ballet perfect posture!  Love this girl too...  Oh God make them, makes us all, to hunger and thirst for you and fill them like only You can!  Anchor us in Your true and perfect Word,  Lord!

Prayer {by Tim Keller // the bullets}

Tim Keller has written a feast of insight and doable encouragement in his book Prayer.  (Super thanks to one very cool redheaded K brother in law for the book!)  It's taken me between two Christmas's, plus a little, to keep at it long enough to get to these chapters that have most impacted me.  I don't know why I put the book down for such long stretches, but I am deeply soul grateful to have made it to chapters 7 -10.

I realized recently that until I've written something down, I don't feel like I really know it...  know what I'm thinking.  I have only a swirling chaos of feelings until I've written down the swirling lines and seen it all settle somewhere, hopefully into some order.  Writing is thinking for me.  And hopefully writing will help me remember.

So... here's a few bullet points I long to know and remember and live well:  quotes (some from Keller, and more from dead theologians he recalled in these chapters) and doable suggestions and guidelines for prayer and scripture meditation:

Luther's teaching on prayer~

He wrote of inclining the mind and heart by mulling over Scripture like this.  Take one verse or one passage and consider it, let it weigh down on you from four different angles:  consider the verse as a command of God for me, as a cause for thanksgiving and praise, as a confession of how and where I fall short, and as a prayer for the grace I need to grow in this way...  He suggests that the second part of a helpful prayer time is going through the Lord's prayer as a pattern for inserting your own, specific needs and thanks and issues to surrender to the Lord.  Notice that both of these steps require our mind being fully engaged.  No "tuning out" possible!  His final "step" is to simply pray as you feel led by the Holy Spirit and to keep attentive to what He may preach to you now that you have inclined your mind and heart towards Him and His Word.  

Calvin's "rules" on prayer ~

1-  the joyful fear:  "there is nothing worse than to be devoid of awe."  Tim Keller
2-  the sense of need that excludes all unreality: a spiritual humility that doesn't try to perform to impress God
3-  submissive trust:  we come to God bringing our requests and leaving them with Him, "Your will be done.  You know best, Father"
4-  confidence and hope:  God invites us to ask and promises to answer - may we have eyes and hearts ready to receive what he deems is best.
5-  the rule against rules:   Following any set of rules could not make our prayers worthy to be heard... only grace can do that- not our performance but the saving, gracious, loving work of Christ on the cross.

And then from Keller's chapter ten, "Meditation."

• The Psalms are the prayer book of the Bible and they begin not with a prayer but with a meditation on meditation (Psalm 1).  
• Questions to ask yourself to get to know a verse or passage:
• Am I living in light of this?  Am I taking this seriously?
• What difference does this make?
• What results from forgetting this?
• What does this teach me about God and His character?
• What does this teach me about human nature and behavior?
• What does this teach me about Christ and His salvation?
• What does this teach me about the church or life in the people of God?
• Application:
• Are there personal examples for me to emulate or avoid?
• Any commands to obey?
• Any promises to claim and cling to?
• Any warnings to heed?
• Why might God be showing you this passage today?
• "You can't reflect on or enjoy what you don't understand.  To understand a section of Scripture means answering two main questions:  1) what did the original author intend to convey to his readers?  2) what role does this text play in the whole Bible; how does it contribute to the arc of the Bible message, which climaxes in the salvation provided by Jesus Christ?"  (Keller)
• More ways to handle the Word of God, to know it deeply and know it well...  
• Emphasize each word individually as you read and reread the verse.
• Paraphrase a passage in your own words.
• Memorize the passage.
• And this crowning GRACE:  "How can anyone truly think intensely about the law of God and not fall into despair?...  Look at the central figure of the Word, the Word made flesh, the great Mediator."  He is not only our example and our teacher, His life and death satisfy God for us!

The Question Connection {a 2016 motherhood goal for me}

I remember being quite surprised by the quantity and consistency of the questions that one very dear friend, Sue, and her husband Rob, asked their children.  The kids picked up the blessing of asking each other too.  

"How was the test?  How did your song go?  Did you have a nice ride?  What was class like today?"

It's not as if I don't ask these things of my kids.  But I too often, with the rush of all of them and the reality of those spinning, ticking hands on the wall, I settle for lifeless one word answers when I should be hearing their living dreams, vivid fears, joys, sorrows in story form.  Somehow, Sue and her family had a better pattern of sharing and listening with their questions.   It was as if their thoughts and feelings and opinions and experiences mattered to each other.  And, yea, how could I not want to bring in more of exactly that into my home too?

Once, when Sue was at our place just before my kids headed off to art class, Isaiah moaned to me "I don't want to go to art class today."  I launched right into my own sad pattern of over-instructing/correcting/nagging, so well intended, so consistently poor.  "Buddy, come on, you love art class.  Just grab you're things together and you'll be glad you went once you get there."  

Sue followed me up with, a question.  "Why do you not want to go to art class today, Isaiah?"  He didn't need a major soul unpacking....  he just didn't want to go while her kids were at our house.  But her family was leaving then too, and that made sense to him, when she said it.  And it gave him a chance to express his feelings, it gave her a chance to hear him, encourage his real need, and have a much better connection with my son than I had just gained.  

I thought of Sue's questions again as I read an article that Ann V linked to, a post about childhood and parenting for Danes.   There's a handful of points in this post that I could mull over long.   One:  I am guilty of over-praising.  

"Research shows that kids who are always told they are smart are likely to give up easily when confronted with difficult tasks. They feel that due to their alleged smartness, they shouldn't have to work hard — trying hard makes them feel dumb, so they avoid it."  

Ouch.   

My kids' weakness here (quickly giving up when challenged and complaining about anything difficult) just might correspond perfectly with my weakness in overpraising them (and too, I know it also corresponds with that fallen nature of theirs ours.  And perhaps there's no connection whatsoever here... but our kids bicker nigh incessantly.  It is, hands down, 100%, the most painful, drive-me-crazy part of motherhood in this season for me.   It makes sense to me that kids expecting things to come easy for them and always, exactly, be just what they want and like best, that they would bicker whenever life, or any sibling or request given to them, crosses them.   

Elisabeth Elliot wrote (in The Shaping of a Christian Family) how her parents assured her of their love but never went crazy overboard praising her accomplishments.  Diligence and excellence were expected, they were acknowledged, and the children were loved.   The kids apparently expected that they wouldn't get everything easy and just like they like it.  

"Mother smiled, although she was not given to waxing very eloquent.  Daddy always said, "that's fine."  Those words were prize enough for me.  Our performance was not the result of relentless goading, or even the prospect of great rewards, but of the "steady pressure to be at our best," to do what was right."  (page 173)

So I'm aiming, in this new year, to correct my own poor pattern with not just different words, but questions to open up a better connection for me to hear from my kids.   And the questions I want to be building on are pointed.... laying out clear guidelines and expectations for my kids to see the blessing of hard choices for excellence and lasting joy over easy, limp wimpery, narcissism and laziness.  

"Hey dear, how are you feeling?  What have you read lately in God's word?  What do you need to do to obey God's word today?  What do you think might be a hard thing God gives you today to strengthen you?  How can I help you, encourage you, in this?  How can you trust God and go His way through that hard thing?"  

"What do you think you can do to love your siblings today, even when you don't want to?  What better joy do you think you could find today for choosing a hard way rather than an easy one?  How do you think you might have to go against what everyone else is doing, in order to do the most pleasing thing to the Lord?  What is the best joy you're after today and how are you going to get it?  What are you going to have to give up to get it?  How can we celebrate together, when you get there?"

"How do you think the Lord might want you to lay down what you want in order to better bless ____?  How can I help you do that?"

For Sue, when she asked Isaiah about the art class, there was no pansying about it...  She doesn't take the approach of "whatever you're feeling, that's true for you." Or "well, that's all you need to know."   Not at all.  But oh how much growth could come out of guiding my kids to see that 1-  your feelings matter and 2- let's see if they're based on truth, and 3-  how can you best respond to your feelings and express yourself or make the wisest choice to move forward from here?  

There were other pieces of the Danish post that zinged me too.  There are a heap of areas where parenting needs to improve on the K front.  I want to be careful to assess where we're at and intentional to aim for the best way forward, but my first priority for 2016 is still to focus my own heart on the Lord, in prayer, reliance, dependance, abiding in Him, rather than on lesser book methods and parenting/ psych. strategy, questions or comments....  

May the Lord build this house, these hearts, firm after Him, fruitful and bright for His glory.  

Our eyes look to You, Oh God.  Our eyes look to you.     

Allegiance

The Lord, he is God and he is good.  

It is he who made us, we are His. 

His love pursues us forever. 

I’ll trust His love and sovereign might

and receive with thankfulness what he gives me today.   

His Word is my guide and my delight.  

His command, my privilege to obey.  

The life I now live in the flesh, I live by faith in the Son of God, 

who loved me and gave himself for me. 

The life I now live in this world, I’ll live as a light for the praise of my King,

honoring Him and others with love and humility.  

I will gladly sell all to have more of the joy

of God, my great Treasure, my Wisdom, my Way.  

I give all that I am for His glory,

in my character, relationships, learning, work, play.

His joy is my song.  His Word, my anchor and sword.

I live all by His grace and all for His glory.

I pledge my life to my Savior and Lord!

There's a book about habits that starts off with a story of training soldiers, of drilling them with commands that they need to learn to obey with immediacy and precision.  And it struck me how practice and training and rote memorization also have a part in my work of growing up these treasure kids that I love.   

So...Cheers!  Here's a K family pledge of allegiance that I hope will stain our hearts with His beauty as we mull over the wonder and lavish great goodness of God- that we get to live in His love and walk in His ways.  May the words of this pledge be a spirit-true prayer from our hearts and lives... as we pursue Him together who first loved us.  

For the Lamb

If you need some encouragement, as I have, for your own heart and for your country....  have a listen here, remember the praise-worthy sovereign God we serve and too,  see these ambassadors of their generation.  Lord do your work in our hearts and in our land!






This one too... Ever Glorious...  Oh Yes.

And if you want just a taste of what many in not-my-country, but my-home-land live, their daily reality... watch just the first 4 minutes of this video.  We pray, with some of the words that finish the pages of Scripture... Even So Come, Lord Jesus!

Glory and Suffering (by Matt Papa)

Two pages from Look and Live... The words of Matt Papa, and perhaps especially John Newton's words here, are crucial in the fight of life as we press hard past the dross and filth and sorrows of this world toward the finish line of His smile and welcoming arms....  (This is only one of several excellent points in Papa's chapter on suffering.)



"God hates suffering, the Bible is clear on this, and yet He ordains it.  

Okay.  Maybe you say, "I get it."  Nice doctrine, man.  But still the bitter question remains, Why?...

WHY?

We will never know the specific reasons why God allows the pain He does in our lives, but we can know what is behind our suffering and find an unshakable, incomprehensible peace if we look through the cross.  The cross assures us of God's love of us, which is the greatest thing we need in times of suffering.  

We all know this.  When you experience deep hurt in your life, you don't need someone to preach to you.  You don't need someone to try to fix you.  You don't need answers.  You need a shoulder.

Well, lean in.

At the cross we see a God who not only works for our good, but who also suffers for it.  Bleeds for it.

Look at Him.

The Infinite Innocent, suffering in the place of the Barabbas race. 

If you can see Him sweating blood in Gethsemane, screaming in agony on Calvary... for YOU... then you can find peace in your deepest suffering and hope in your darkest hours.  

Why?

Because now you have a God who understands your suffering, not only by omniscience but by experience.  This shoulder you are crying on not only sympathizes with your weakness, but empathizes with them.  But not only this.  

When we look at our suffering through the cross, we see that the God who ordered the greatest tragedy ever, for the greatest good, will order our every tragedy for our good.  

Look at Him.

If He ordered a bloody cross for our eternal salvation, will He not order our every little prick and tear for our benefit?  This Romans 8:32's logic:  "He who did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him over for us all, how will He not also with Him freely give us all things?"

Because of the cross, we can know that all trials we meet are for our good.  They have to be.

As Tim Keller says, "The cross does not tell us what our suffering means, but it does tell us what it can't mean.  It can't mean that God doesn't love us."

The cross is where we get faith.  And when faith meets a trial, it does not say "God is not good."  It says, "This is God loving me.  Indeed, it could not be anything else."

If you can see Him, totally abandoned, crying "why?" for you on the cross, then you can cry "Why?" to Him freely while knowing you are forever embraced.  

As to daily occurrences, it is best to believe that a daily portion comforts and crosses, each one the most suitable to our case, is adjusted and appointed by the hand which was once nailed to the cross for us.  Everything is needful that He sends.  Nothings is needful that He withholds.   -John Newton  (The Letters of John Newton to Mrs. Wilburforce.  London:  The Religious Tract Society, 1869.  p 75)

Selected from Matt Papa's book Look and Live:  Behold the Soul-Thrilling, Sin-Destroying Glory of Christ.    p 193-195.

John's Prayer and Father Love

Our sweetheart John has said a few most memorable prayers.    Not long ago he prayed at dinner time "God, thank you that we got to eat breakfast this morning.  And we got to eat lunch this afternoon.  And dinner now.  Amen."

Last time we were in the states, when he was 3.5 years old, we had stayed in about twenty different homes for a few months.  We tried to pray blessing and thankfulness for each home we were in.  And John remembered that when he prayed on Christmas Eve (I think it was?)....  it was a sweet and really long prayer (especially for this boy who does brief prayers well) and he closed with "Thank you that Grandma and Grandpa let us stay with them in their home."  I can still remember Grandma giggling over it...."as if we'd leave you all out in the snow."

Sometimes the obvious things seem too little to mention.  But I'm so glad he remembers to name these blessings and to give them as gifts, to return them with thanks to the Lord.   

Tonight he prayed another one that, if it had come on any other day, might not have choked me up so much.  But it did today.  He prayed:

"God, thank you that I was born.  

And that Daddy was born.  

And mommy was born.  

And Isaiah was born.  

And Marian and Vivi were born.  

Amen."

We were listening to a sermon on Biblical manhood this morning, on teaching our boys the creation-old wisdom and beauty and goodness and rightness of living with such honor as to lay down their lives for women, for their women... and I wept straight through it.  

I wouldn't have thought there was very much "father-wound" in me....  I know the Lord shielded my heart with outrageous grace all through my childhood and youth.  But I grew up with a single mother and a father who knew well of my existence and never cared to say hello, to check how we were, to protect, to provide... even a scrap, a crumb, for my mom or me.  This sermon pulled back the grace-cover from that wound to have me relive a little of my still-there tenderness, neediness for healing in my heart.... and where does a father abandoning his child, throwing her mother away like trash, not hurt their heart?

I remember some of the first words I heard from my father's lips the day that I met him, the day after I turned 22.  "I want you to know I bear no responsibility, no financial obligation towards you because I told your mother:  have an abortion."

But tonight I get to celebrate an eternally, exquisitely precious boy who is thankful he was born.  And thankful I was born.  He and his siblings.  And His daddy.  And these beautiful treasure kids of mine (!) are growing up loved... loved well by a Daddy who is living the Gospel before them.  Sacrificially loving them, loving me, loving and leading us all to our God.

In that sermon, Chandler reminds us of the admirable beauty of a three young men in Aurora, CO throwing themselves over their girlfriends when a gunmen entered their theater.  Each of those guys was killed while their bodies shielded those three young ladies and gave them life.  I had a father who left me before all the bullets of life and this world ...  but I have a Savior who took the weight of not just the junk of this world, but my very own, I-am-guilty,  soul-trash, to give me life by shedding His own blood for me.

And I am the most brokenly, soul-raw and Thankful any woman, any mother could be.  Stunned by the grace of healing (what's begun and still coming), faithful promises, a beautiful design, divine self-sacrifice, and Sovereign Love.   And that I, that we, belong to such a God as this?  

... stunning, outrageous grace.      

culture burden

We are hours away from our 8 year anniversary in China.  That's an exciting, humbling, amazing thing for me.  What an honor it is for us to be here as His, for Him.  And it makes me pause and question myself...

I've written much before about culture obstacles, stress that has ripped my heart out and shredded me whole.  That's how I felt.  I can remember driving our 3 wheel electric bike past garbage heaps and pollution and strange neighbors to pick up kiddos from preschool and thinking over and over:  "How could I possibly... what words could I use to communicate to people back home, to fully portray, the enormity or dark depth of difficulty these culture struggles are for me?"

I often think that just about nothing would be hard for me here if I weren't a mom.  I know single friends here also have their struggles.   But most of what I have faced has felt like it's come at the sword-tip of the already difficult battle to glorify God as a mom in my children's lives and before them.  The pushiness, the misunderstanding, the way my choices for my kids are brushed aside and disregarded by strangers who don't know us at all but go ahead with their plans for my kids even after I've communicated.... the filth we live in the middle of, the hard things we see, that go on all around us.  The hope of teaching our kids etiquette... and the zillions of miles we live from it.  All this, and we live in a modern city, nothing compared to so many who live overseas!

I actually started to see that in the past, the way of sending kids off to boarding school could have been more for the blessing of the kids rather than for the sake of the parents (to focus more on their work.)  Now boarding school is not our style... but I've come to a bit more compassion in understanding that choice.  

(I must also add here that the Lord has given a tremendous measure of grace for me in dealing with these culture stressors.  The last time we were back in the states (Feb 2013) I got to have a way-too-short visit with one dear friend, one bridesmaid of mine, who listened long and prayed for me with the keen strength of the Word of God and an understanding heart.  It was perhaps the most piercingly penetrating time of prayer I have ever experienced, received as a ministry to me, to my own heart.  I am profoundly grateful to the Lord for His grace that has healed so much of these culture wounds in me.  So magnificently grateful to the Lord for you my dear friend, JJK!)

So far, almost the entirety of my processing, sometimes- my ranting and raving- here on this blog has been about how challenging this culture is for me.  Yesterday I saw that difficulty turn inside out.

How about how INSANELY DIFFICULT my culture is for people here?  How about how *ridiculous* my standards come across to them?  And yea, why on earth, would anyone here want to be a friend or ever imagine wanting to listen to the mom who doesn't feed her kids candy every hour of the day (such a mean mom!), the mom who yelled sternly out the sixth floor window when her kids began to join in with a pack of little neighbors tormenting a trapped mouse in the courtyard (and there's a cock fighting place just outside our complex-- what do you mean, you don't take joy in seeing animals suffer?).  Who really wants to hear what the mom who stays home all day to teach her kids has to say?  I know, I know well, that plenty of moms in the states are minorities for their choices too.  Plenty must also feel misunderstood, wrongly left out, unjustifiably disliked.  

America is a melting pot, a salad bowl, some say.  Everyone who's stepped outside on red white and blue soil has seen faces different than theirs, come across press reports or stories of opinions different than theirs, has probably received some education and some choices and options presented them.  Not. So. Here.   The uniformity of decisions, methods, choices among most of our neighbors is uncanny... but it makes sense with the history of this precious land.

So....  I'm feeling the weight of all this.... and trying to hold it in swing with the reason we've come.  And how, but by miracle after miracle of GRACE, will I ever be able to share with friends here?  And really, how can we, in this heavy cultural, political climate right now boldly proclaim!?  It's pretty hard on the ground right now.  Miracles needed.

Good thing the God who opened up the Red Sea is still at work, still faithful today.  

Lead, Lord!  Open the way here too!   We believe that you can.  That you will.

Hold my heart there, Lord.  And come, do this work, by your grace, for your glory!

broken

So I've been fussy lately.  Had a few down days where motherhood beat me.  I've been tired in the heat and climbing all these stairs all day long. And it's been a great summer but I've complained  about dumb stuff in the midst of all my lavish comforts, joys, blessings....

And thousands are being killed in Palestine and Israel and Iraqi Christians and minorities are being hunted down and slaughtered in their streets.  Children beheaded in public squares.  Homes in Iraq being marked with the "N" letter (in Arabic) to show where Nazarenes, Christians, live so if they return to their homes they can be executed too.  Father, forgive my loathsome self-centeredness!

I want to stand with my brothers and sisters in Iraq.  And remember too, the victims in both Palestine and Israel.  The humbling conviction and wisdom needed for all these leaders.

And India...  where the most gruesome, horrifically violent rapes imaginable are happen repeatedly.  Two girls hung from a tree when a group of three brothers is done with them.  And the girl who was gang raped on a moving bus a few months ago?  The one who had an iron rod jabbed up her, wrecking all her organs?  She died after 13 days of expert hospital care.  And... oh well?

No way.  

Move us to action, Lord!  Move your people to prayer and fasting for those we've never met.  And move, Lord, in your peer and mercy, rescue these sufferers!  Move your people to giving and going.  To sacrificing and serving and humbly loving.  Move us beyond ourselves Lord.  Bring your kingdom!




(Broken and grateful for stirring leads in the sidebar and this post from Ann V.)

A Marriage Retreat Discussion Guide.... {many thanks, Pastor Reju!}

Just a quick link to share here....

Matthew blessed me exceedingly with gifts for my birthday this year.  All the best:  time.  I got a morning out alone to read and write and then I got him to myself all afternoon and evening, while dear friends of ours watched our kiddos for us.   To prepare for that time, I googled for some help with goal-setting for marriage and I struck gold.  There were a few sites that looked alright but I think what Deepak Reju, a pastor at Capitol Hill Baptist Church, has shared as a guide for a Do-It-Yourself Marriage Retreat, just can't be beat.   Incredibly helpful questions to connect and hear from each other  and find ways to spur one another on in godliness and serve and support one another with kindness, help, encouragement....  I hope we'll be returning to this retreat guide for years to come!

The many-miracled (and not-short) story of our home

The past month has been a harder time for me than I ever expected….no serious suffering, just hard going….  and right in the midst of this, the Lord has provided for us more exceedingly kindly and generously than I surely ever asked or imagined.  The pieces He brought together for us make me shake my head and gasp with wonder at His sovereignty and love to provide for us so.

We arrived a bit earlier than expected into our new city, checked into our little room at the JinJiang Inn and met friends for dinner at their place.  By morning we planned to hit the streets hard to find our new home.  Except that there were almost no options for us…. anywhere.  We got to look at a nice place that was for sale, but we needed to rent.  The landlord assured us she wouldn't budge- even for cute blonde kiddos in her would-be tenant family:  She was only selling.  The other 8 - 9 owners that Matt called said the same thing:  no possibility of renting, they wanted only to sell.

There were two rental options:  both far from our friends' home.  One was tolerable inside but the complex was in a bad area for what we want to do.  The other rental option was gross (Matt thought it was tolerable, I hated it).  It was in a super fancy, fake-fancy, apartment complex (fake gold everywhere, super gaudy and run-down, spray-paint graffiti over the cemented-in courtyard).  It was spacious enough, but pricey and… did I mention gaudy and awful?

The next day we looked at a place, also for sale.  3 bedrooms, 2 baths (we were praying for 2 bathrooms) and happily simple…. no smeared rose decor, fake gold or fluorescent paint in the living room .  It was a fixer upper but just needed a little bit of help to make it really great. I loved it.   Matt loved it.  Same complex, same building even, as our dear friends that we wanted to live near.  A complex filled with precious kids playing on grass….  a thing we've only dreamed of before in China.  But it was for sale.

Just checking on options, we asked if the landlord would consider renting to us short-term if we could eventually buy?  The guy needed to pay for his next home purchase.  He needed to sell.  He's getting married and time is short for him to buy a new place an hour north in the city, near where he works.

But… he decided he'd let us move in if we signed a contract of intent to buy.  He would let us move in that day.

And then… oh the emails!  We had no idea what it would take for us to get a mortgage for a place here.  US mortgages wouldn't work for international purchases.  China mortgage wouldn't approve us either.  For both, our income is just too low to start with!  We sent two emails to see if friends could help:  possibly they could become the owners and we would be their tenants?  Or if they could give us a mortgage?  And then a mentor-friend of mine from high school days emailed to plan a short visit to see us in our new town.  I wrote back to her and shared about our situation.

It wasn't a straight shot.  I was still questioning…  Is the Father redirecting us?  Did we miss His leading somehow? Should we not try to live near our friends here?  (That was the whole plan we came for!) Should we hold out for some better rental option to come available?  How long should our family hunker down in room 726 at the Jin Jiang Inn?

Our friends here were praying hard and thinking of every possible option for us too.    He shared our need with his dad and this Canadian man we've never met, offered to put up his own property as collateral to secure a loan for us from Canada.  There were words like "this is something only Christians would do."  And I thought a label like Ready-to-die-for-someone-else Banking was appropriate.   Such a picture of the Gospel.

In the morning, it was the friend that I didn't ask, the friends planning to come for a visit, that wrote back to say they wanted to be a part of this with us.  We didn't know what that meant, but it was encouraging… there were little sparks of hopeful joy.  But actually, that might have been the darkest day for us….Both Matt and I felt under a cloud….  There was a tremendous burden of living such an unknown even though we'd only been homeless for a bit over a week at that point.  When will we have a home for our family?  What home will it be?  Will we be able to do what we've moved here to do?

The same morning that the first miracle-email came, we woke up to an ugly call from the movers.  Our stuff arrived on the truck and had been unloaded in the warehouse, but they planned to charge us three times the price stated in our contract for renting space there til we found a home to move into.  (The movers on this end were nothing like the polite guys who moved our stuff out of our last home.)

We tried to find temporary housing.  Called every option we could think of for a different place to store our stuff or a different home we could rent for a week or two or maybe just stay for a few nights…. Every. Door. Shut.  

But right about this time, there was one great encouragement:  To begin the long process to register Matt's company, we need an office address, and if we buy a home, it would be easier (more possible) to register it at our home address than if we rent.  Matt went to the local police station and the society office of the apartment complex and began chatting with the decision makers to find out if that would be possible- if they would allow us to register our company in a home in this complex if we bought.  Everything looked good.  This could save us hundreds of dollars a month!!  (Matt's company doesn't need an office in this beginning season, but we thought we'd have to rent one simply to be able to meet the requirements for his company to be approved.)

For these days, those mentor-dear friends kept at it with us, kept emailing us and then not long at all after hearing about our need (I think it was 3 days), they emailed to offer us a mortgage.  Only it wouldn't really be a mortgage (because of China's real estate laws).  It would simply be a personal loan and we really don't have adequate collateral, but we will pay it back and they simply trust us and want to be a part of the work in this city.  Crazy.  Awesome.  Jesus-style-awesome.  

And then it all went scary quick:  another meeting with the landlord and we signed papers.  (We learned about a law that keeps buyers from turning places over too quickly but since this guy a young kid whose parents must have bought the place for him, had owned the place five years (the complex is 6-ish years old) he wouldn't have to pay extra taxes.  And there's rumor of a law that would lay heavy taxes on owners of multiple properties as well.  Two great reasons for lots of places for sale and none for rent).  The owner handed us the key and we went straight to the police station to register our family (and the company) in our new home.

This was the third of seven visits (long visits) to the police station that week.  Matt has done all this for us before and he's always been able to register his woman and children with him without us having to make an appearance.  (I've been so grateful for that as it's not always a nice situation for kiddos.)  He assured me our visit that day was totally normal, but I still took it hard.  We were treated with all  courtesy you'd expect to be given to dirty criminals.  Left to wait for hours.  Required to come back at a set time to meet people that wouldn't show up for a few more hours….  And there were three more visits for me and the kids, four more for Matt that week… in between the moving madness.

So, on a Wednesday mid April, we got keys, got the place cleaned up and called movers to bring our stuff the next morning and just one week- one scary, sad, hard, and then suddenly super incredible week- after arriving in town, we moved in to our home, a home we will own.  We never would have expected...

I was clearing stuff out of the new place (that the owner left and didn't want anymore) when Matt called me about the movers.  "I just want you to prepare your heart….  our stuff hasn't been nicely treated."   Dining room chair broken in pieces, most boxes gashed open, our one nice piece of furniture- an antique Chinese hutch- with two cupboard doors bashed in.  One computer screen crushed and many kitchen items shattered.  But there were only a few things missing…. and the box of photo albums was found- that was a bright find!  I shook with tears when I opened the box of our electric piano and my guitar:  it was all there, in good condition,  Praise the Lord for that grace.  Matt decided that a little bit of our savings from going with the super cheapest movers out there, would need to be slotted for a "Repair" line item in our moving budget.  I think in the end we saved well enough, but we still wouldn't recommend it to anyone.

The sweet guys that moved us in town, from the warehouse to our new house, did a terrific job.   {oops… I planned to get a photo here from my phone, but that got pick pocketed right off me this afternoon, first time at the local large veggie market, so you'll miss those shots.  Bummer.}

So far, for the record, the miracles of the Father's sovereign provision are:  giving us one fantastic place, and financing a loan to buy it, arranging that we should be able to register the company at this address and save hundreds a month for that, the location we could only have dreamed of, and the landlord agreeing to let us move in immediately- and oh yes! - he didn't charge us any additional rent for the three months we're living here until we pay in full…. he just let us move in with paying a deposit and agreeing to pay the purchase price (and we got a great deal) once the money has been brought into China, in three months time.

Second load of laundry in two weeks.  It was 60 degrees the day before.

So the miracles have been many….  but the hardship has been real too.  This has been by far the hardest move for me ever.  Somehow, despite my work and effort to plan and keep organized, our move has marked with utter disorder.  And our unpacking in our new place has been done over two + weeks, the first ten days of which were filled with repeated repair MESSES- the kind that break a wanna-be-clean mamma's heart. (I think I understated that...  our home was really not fit to be lived in for the first ten days we were here... but we had no where else to go.  Every room was covered in layers of thick construction dust and wet paint (over most the furniture as well as the walls)...)

Our kids have never lived with "travel rules" for so long:  more iPad time, more movies and screen time everywhere, terrible nutrition, crazy bedtimes, negligent mom and dad (on the phone with movers/landlord/police folks or cautioning them to stay out of hazardous something or other)… I think the very worst part for me was after we moved into this amazing place and needed to do a bit of work to it still…. living in the midst of that mess is what most nearly did me in.  I apologized several times for how hard all this was for me and once, when I was correcting Isaiah for something, he told me well, "Mom, this moving time is hard for all of us."  Sweet boy.  He's right.  I tried to quiet down with my requests. I love him so much.

There was also the deep breath and constant prayers on our two- week anniversary in our new home,  the morning we woke up to news of a terrorist attack in our city: bombing in the train station.  There's violence everywhere- probably more in America than China- but that kind of news does make you pray.  We are still so joyfully certain we're right where He wants us.  And how could we not be when the Lord has provided all this for us?

But we're not yet to the end of the miracles.  Not only do we have this long list of miracles, there's more.  From those first two emails we sent looking for help to get into this place, we got one final one back just a few days ago.  A group of friends, a sweet body of God-lovers where Matt grew up, decided to help us with our mortgage.  I can't even say how crazy a gift, how beautifully intentional, how excitingly supportive they are, how wildly grateful we are…..  May the Lord be praised in all this crazy giving and living...

Miracle after miracle the Lord has wrought to bring us into not only this city, but this very home.  We count it all His:  all our lives, all our home, our days, relationships…. all of it, all of us, all for Him.

Rejoice with us, dear friends, in the Lord's lavish goodness and purpose!  No plan of His will be thwarted!  He is good and His love endures forever….and for not only us!

more photos soon… a welcome tour of our new place (once we get it cleaned up just a bit better :)

A harder, happier way

We drove through a rainy evening and she sat in the front seat telling me how dietary choices affect her and her family and that even if it's hard, she wants to choose the most helpful, happy way to fuel her body, her life, her family.  She wants to cut back on sugar and processed gunk....

I want to cut back on stuff... materialism, clutter, addictions, distractions.  Oh for a mind, a soul, consumed, consecrated!  I want the happier way too, even if it's hard....  harder even than the path where the crowd flows naturally, wide and welcoming, and I wouldn't have to think about "Why?".  And I want a Christmas all about Christ, not also about Christ (and I can hear my dear Ann here, her heart and her words in this, and I'm grateful to the Lord again for all of this, and all of her influence...).

I have the joy of being washed by Him.... now for the joy of feeding His lambs, washing their feet, giving water to the thirsty, and pointing the way to those who are lost (which always includes me).  I want His Word shaping, anchoring, forming and filling me more than the force of our fast-fleeting, aimless and arrogant culture. I want to be free in Christ, given to Christ, glad in Christ. I want the love that endures forever:  His love, His Word, His gladness, His glory endures forever...

So fitting is this song that I learned a decade ago and sung as a lullaby for our kiddos tonight....  I need it as a sermon for my soul and maybe we can begin it as a regular prayer and blessing at bedtime for our cherished little loves too...

I offer up to you my Lord, a living sacrifice

All I am and have to give, oh Lord, even my life

To know you more and make you known, your call I will embrace

To tell the whole world of your love and never ending grace

Oh hear, my cry, I stand before you Lord

Willing to die, for the cross you set before

Oh teach me Oh God, to walk the narrow way

And to die to myself, each and every day

Hey you.... {and your feelings}

click on image for a link to where saw it...
bummer that I can't figure out the original site.

(Please note, by "you" I very much mean me.)

Embarrassingly enough, I've been learning a little thing that I'm sure I should have learned decades ago.  At least I wish I did.  It's come as a bit of a surprise to me recently that I don't have to sign on the line every time my emotions make a sales pitch at me.  I'm a big girl now, and I've known this before, and I've hoped to persuade my kids of various versions of it, but I'm really just beginning to get it a little bit deeper and real-er myself.  

The shocking and glorious thing is this:  sometimes I can feel really (really) strongly about something, and I can still be wrong.  

Imagine that.  

(If you're already finding my stunning revelation ridiculous, you really should stop reading now.)  

For me, there's a lot of freedom in that... realizing that the measure of my feelings is not necessarily connected to the reality or accuracy of my view on an issue.  Humility, Jill.  How beautiful would that be?  

Then I saw this page (above) on Pintrest and it got me thinking how I really need some "Hey You" on my fridge, on my heart first thing in the day, under my nose while I'm at the kitchen sink, and generally carved deep into my soul.  I need something like this:

Hey You:  

Too much listening to 
(and way too much believing!)

your feelings.

Not enough taking thoughts captive 

Time for trusting your Father's sovereignty
choosing truth 
         choosing JOY

                   giving thanks

I could dive headlong into a deep dark mood (and probably take the whole house down with me) because I feel so strongly that I must be right .... or... I could choose truth and reject the slavemaster who lies and tempts me through my heart.  How many times have I called my feelings "wisdom" or even counted them as spiritual gifts (!) when I was really only stoking my own selfish ends, my pride, my plans?

Hey You is right.  And so is the kind friend who mentioned, just in passing, that maybe it would be good if I paid attention to what times of the month are the hardest for me?  And when I see that my hormones are probably talking louder than wisdom is inside my head.... what a help to dismiss the fears and accusations swiftly and bolt the door behind.  I don't need condemnation or judgment for me or anyone else swirling lies in my head and heart.... not any time of the month.  No.  I belong to the Truth, to walk with Him in the freedom he has eternally secured for me.... with His own blood.    

And of course, not all of my feelings are lies.  Not at all.  But that doesn't mean the opposite extreme is valid either.... that they're all true and I must blow wherever they take me.   I don't have to be a slave to whatever it is I'm feeling just because I'm feeling it.  I've been there long enough.  No more, by God's grace... no more.  Give me a Truth-rooted mind and sensitive, real emotions that are held and hemmed in by Truth.

So for the days when I feel guilty (of maybe nothing in particular, just looming, lurking, horrible guilt for surely something terrible) and then of course, when I'm feeling defensive, to follow that up, I can deal with my own heart on the matter.  I can capture that untruth instead of letting it fling me around on it's leash.  I can stop trying to blame everyone else for something else when none of us know what the deal is.   Oh to be ruled by what is true, to speak truth and deal truly with others.  

When he's telling me he'd like to go ahead with his plan even though we're not agreed on it right now....  Well then?  What freedom and grace for me to let it be.  I may feel strongly, but that doesn't mean I'm right and I'm a much happier wife to lay things down and trust my love and my Lord and hopefully break free of more of this self-intoxication.  

When I'm sure I've got the whole whatever-it-is figured out just right and people should be paying me for my opinions on the matter, Bring me to the Truth!  And for petty bothers, like when I feel like pulling my hair out because Proverbs 25:17 has been broken yet again, and I Cannot Take It Anymore?   I can remember, He Will Give me Strength for This.  He is with me even now....Peace, Peace.

When I don't know what to do, how to handle it, how to proceed....  He has promised me wisdom and that He is with me.  And that doesn't mean there won't be soul trembling over important matters, but there should be still remembering:  I'm Anchored to Love.  I'm not a slave to fear.  He won't let me go.    

And for the very real days when it's the truth on the ground that is most painful to dwell on (no lies needed for despair to feel justified) Oh God! help me to set my mind on things above and the joy that is promised still ahead.  

Oh Father God, give me your peace, joy, and freedom in the blazing, beautiful power of your Truth.  

on Pintrest and craving beauty

Wonderful thoughts here, yet again, from Rachel Jankovic... This time she's writing about pintrest and how we can misuse it and deceive and distract ourselves with it.


Oh God of All, may I see life and light and truth in the truth of Who you are, Eternally Good.   Please keep me from the distractions called rewards and entitlements and "relaxation" that our culture applauds and assumes.  Pour my life out in spirit and in truth... worship, for You.

Where I hunger to make my life beautiful... to hopefully be beautiful, and create beauty in relationships and on our table and in song and every way....  lead me to You, the only Eternally Beautiful Truth.

May all my soul hungers bring me empty before you, to that blessed state of poverty and grief and meekness... the end of myself, to the fullness, the brimming pleasure and satisfaction of YOU.

May my quest for perfection give way to acceptance of all.... all that you give as chosen, intended for me, received with the promise to one day be redeemed.   There are no interruptions under a Sovereign King.

I belong to you, Maker, Redeemer.  Have your way.  Sear your beauty deepest into my soul.

And may the blaze of your glory leave me awestruck and still before YOU.

Amen.

Revival Fire

Gems to share with you here (and just a few of the many) from Why Revival Tarries, by Leonard Ravenhill.


Most joyfully will I confirm with my blood that truth which I have written and preached.  John Huss at the Stake

The primary qualification for a servant ministering overseas is not love for souls, as we so often hear, but love for Christ.  Vance Havner

Now I leave off to speak any more to creatures, and turn my speech to Thee, O Lord.  Now I begin my  intercourse with God which shall never be broken off.  Farewell, father and mother, friends and relations!  Farewell, meat and drink!  Farewell the world and all delights!  Farewell, sun, moon, and stars! Welcome God and Father!  Welcome Sweet Lord Jesus, Mediator of the New Covenant!  Welcome Blessed Spirit of Grace, God of all Consolation!  Welcome Glory!  Welcome Eternal Life!  Welcome Death!"...  And so, with Christ was Hugh MacKail "with his sweet boyish smile."  "And that will be my welcome," he said; "the Spirit and the Bride say, Come"  The Martyrdom of Hugh MacKail, a Covenanter

O brother (and sister!), pray; in spite of Satan, pray; spend hours in prayer; rather neglect friends than not pray; rather fast, and losse breakfast, dinner, tea and supper- and sleep too- than not pray.   And we must not talk about prayer, we must pray in right earnest.  The Lord is near.  He comes softly while the virgins slumber.  Andrew Bonar

The law of prayer is the law of the harvest:  sow sparingly in prayer, reap sparingly; sow bountifully in prayer, reap bountifully.  The trouble is we are trying to get from our efforts what we never put into them.  (p 119)

And oh friends... there are many more words to be swallowed whole like a fire seed for the soul... but I'm off now for water and Son's light for the seeds planted in me so far.

Off to prayer!

Character {Heart and Home}

"May my character, not my circumstances, chiefly engage me."  

from the Valley of Vision, book of prayers

When we returned to China after 5 months in America, I was so relieved to be in our own place again.  We had stayed in 20ish places, usually with our gracious hosts, and almost always with a dozen (or a hundred) rules for the kids to follow about what they can and can't touch/ do/ play with...  Being in our own home again was like liberation for all of us.   We try to keep our place neat (and the kids are learning to be so much more mindful and helpful towards that end- so nice!)  but it is a busy, lived-in home.  

I often need this application of the prayer above:  "May the character of my heart, more than the character of my home, chiefly concern and engage me."  How many times do I get crispy-ugly-yucko with our kids while I'm aiming to get our home to some allusive state of near-perfection?  Lord, help me to lay it down.  

And Lord help me believe the truth that happiness does not come from having a clean home, but only from You.  May I not lay my own heart under the Enchanter's lie that I cannot be happy or have peace unless we are as tidy as can be.  Even when guests are coming.  Yes, even then.  

We really can live in a home that looks lived in.  We can live amidst a little mess.  It doesn't need to stress me out or bring me to the point of breaking down.   I can be broken instead, broken open with joy by serving people, meeting with my kids and bending low to look and love them in the eyes, and even to meet with guests in the midst of just a little organically growing, real, messy homelife.  

Now there is the true point to be made, that when I get dressed for the day, I accomplish worlds more in just a morning than I could make a pajamaed version of me get done in 24 hours.  Matt has seen it to, how dressing for business (which is much easier here than in America) hones his attention and somehow increases his efficientcy.  And I cannot afford to loose that in my home either.  But these prayers and this subtle ever-growing change in me means two things

First, I’ve got to adjust my standards for what I can feel effective in.  If I must have an absolutely spotless home in order to feel like I can get a good thing done in the day, well then, I’ll be spending vain hours cleaning and tidying and retidying my home.  And I'll be doing the exact same thing the next day too (we've got 4 kiddos on the loose here.)  Or if I can offer up a bit of lived in stuff strewn about my house to the Lord and find his blessing for it, his peace... even him in the midst of it... then I can move on to accomplish more, right there in our scatteryness. 

And I’ve also got to set my mind to doing the needed, most strategic amount of house work regularly so that I am helped to maximize my efforts and increase efficientcy every day for his glory.  

What joy it is to run a home, to serve and bless a family, to welcome guests!  Such joy in prayer and having a God who hears and loves me, his very own daughter, who he completely accepts while she is so far from a perfect housekeeper!   

Yes, Lord, may the character of my heart, not my home, chiefly engage me!   And too, may my home be a refuge of peace and rest and life and joy in this dirty, broken world...  all in You, for You,  for Your Glory, my King!

bold and beautiful words of challenge

I read this aloud to Matt in the kitchen last week, teary-eyed and overflowing with glad thanks...

This is John Jefferson Davis writing in Meditation and Communion with God...

“....The very practical point that should not be missed in this claim that the reality of heaven is now in some sense “accessible” to the church on earth is that the very transformative energy of the age to come (“the powers of this coming age[ Hebrews 6:5]) is already being made available to the church for it’s ministry and mission.  Alas, all too often the church today is being run on the natural energies of this age, rather than the supernatural energy loosed by the resurrection of Jesus and the descent of the Spirit!  If we have lost our heavenly imagination, we will be disinclined to access, by faith and prayer, the heavenly energy from above.  Which energy does your church run on? (p 75)"

A Gift Restructured: Prayer

I attended a “School of Prayer” for a sweet season of my life, while I was in grad school and working part-time.  The School of Prayer was a highlight, absolutely a privilege to attend.  It was really called the “School” but it was just this:  a weekly prayer meeting, just half hour before an evening worship service.  There was no sharing or discussion other than kind greetings between early comers.  And then there was prayer:  scriptural, powerful, intimate, united.  Unspeakable grace to have spent hours there...

Besides that time, I’ve been through some less .... something....  prayer times where I’ve felt like I’m checking chores off a list or waiting for Chemistry class to be done.  There certainly are prayer meetings that have earned the reputation, the stereotype "Boring." But it doesn't have to be like this!  

A precious group of friends in our city recently heard from a pastor about prayer and since then, our times in prayer with them have been restructured to something like this:

• We gather to worship and to pray.  He is not our servant or simply our supplier.  He is God.  We start with worship because it’s right in every way.  This might mean a song but very often it means Scripture may be read aloud or praises just prayed aloud to extol our God.   (Consider the Lord’s Prayer, the Psalms, how most of the pastoral letters open with worshipful prayers.)

• We seek our Father’s heart together.    His kingdom and His righteousness are our first aim.  (Matthew 6:33).  We don’t need to spell out all our issues and concerns to each other first (though we may also need another time to visit for that purpose.)  We pray aloud the things that are most concerning us, burdening our hearts.  Those who are listening and praying with us can then pray for us, for this need too.  

• We pray united.   Since there’s no pressure for who has to pray next, we can listen fully and pray in agreement with others while they’re praying.   "Devoting ourselves to prayer", "with one accord".....  Acts 1:14.  

• We pray for a time...  maybe 10 minutes, maybe hours.  We might read Scripture aloud at different interludes between prayers.  We might close with worship again- musical, scriptural, or words prayed aloud.  No checklists, chores or assignments... although there is labor, fervency, sweat and tears to be poured out.  Hebrews 13:12-14.  Oh for the exceeding joy of this:  Prayer!  

That’s it.  Pure Grace.  This is the stuff that marked the early disciples and martyrs as they gathered together, it marked the filling of the Holy Spirit in the lives of the disciples, it marked the expansion of the church! Intimacy with the Father, together with His children.   His Word pulsing, the lifeblood of the branches that wrap themselves tight to the Vine.  His Word directing and fueling our prayers for each other and for His kingdom and His glory.   

Let's not squish this most holy, privileged work and joy, our responsibility as disciples, into the last few minutes of our time together.  May we be a people who enter into prayer together, for each other and for the world!

Oh God, teach us to pray!!  Lead us in your joy, near to your heart, and bring your kingdom, Lord!