Penny Said It For Me

"I’ve got two [kids], which means I can’t spend days in a cave or hours on my knees. Something about the mental and physical exhaustion of child-rearing makes even the leanest spiritual practice a near impossibility. The proffered solutions are laughable, even ridiculous. Get up earlier to read the Bible. Seriously? Is that a joke? Find space in the small moments of each day? I might feel guilty about it sometimes, but I’d rather wrangle some control over my house and my self lest I turn into the baby food-wearing, greasy-haired, haggard mommy I am but a few small steps ahead of becoming.


I often think there must be something wrong with me, because drinking coffee and brushing my teeth usually takes precedent over reading the Bible.  I berate myself, saying that if I really cared about my spiritual life I would make the necessary sacrifices. I had almost convinced myself of this when a friend suggested Bonnie Miller-McLemore’s book, In the Midst of Chaos: Caring for Children as Spiritual Practice. Miller-McLemore* rejects the notion you must say goodbye to a vibrant spiritual life when you become a parent. She challenges us to get rid of the belief that the sacred is found only in certain rituals, practices, and places, noting that Protestants have forgotten about the sanctification of the ordinary."    - Penny Carothers, from a post on Donald Miller's blog

Hard Work vs. Inspired Work

"...spiritual disciplines have "not been tried and discarded because [they] didn't work, but tried and found difficult (and more than a little tedious) and so shelved in favor of something or other that could be fit into a busy [person's] schedule." - great article from Christianity Today

I can relate to that. Is the reason I don't really want to integrate a routine of spiritual discipline in my life because it's "more than a little tedious"? I'm sometimes really good at tedious things. I also enjoy putting things on my calendar and following through with it. It's satisfying. But putting "prayer time" or "meditation" on my daily calendar doesn't satisfy me. It seems so unnatural and sterile.

"Work harder" just isn't that appealing to me. I have a difficult time working hard on something unless I'm inspired to do so. Is God really saying, "If you really loved me, you would work harder on praying more. You would open that Bible more"? Maybe all God is saying and has said over and over is, "I love you." Every command, nudge, whisper, every experience we have with Him is an act of love. That's inspiring. That makes me want to do something. With that kind of inspiration, my work is for real. It's out of real devotion and love for God because He is good and first loved me. Isn't that the kind of devotion He wants from us? Not forced or scheduled.

I might have figured something out just now...

Maybe the disciplines that I need to practice more are the ones I am weak or lack experience in. I think I need to read the rest of Richard Foster's book; read what the rest of the disciplines are and what they suggest. Maybe I shouldn't draw conclusions yet on integrating spiritual disciplines in my life.

Tired of Discipline

I've procrastinated coming back to this blog to start actually "dialoguing" with myself all that has been in my head over this subject of spiritual disciplines. I haven't had any revelations or conclusions, so this post might be all over the place.

I'm having a hard time wanting to make room for the spiritual disciplines in my life, but maybe that's how it's supposed to be right now. Perhaps God is not allowing room because if I was able to find a nice little routine of spiritual discipline (praying, meditation, studying, etc.) I might just get comfortable and think this is what it's about. It might actually make me lazy in my communion with God. Maybe He is asking more than quiet time and routine pieces of my life . Of course He is.

The last couple of months I've been contemplating whether I even like the idea of spiritual discipline any more. I'm a little annoyed that "Spiritual" is a category in our lives. My belief is that everything is spiritual and there is no reality separate from that. I'm annoyed by the phrase, "It's a God thing" and I'm annoyed by how we categorize life and put "spiritual" in one bucket like God just pops in for the party now and then so we don't forget about Him. I want God to be in and with all of me everywhere, all the time. It's weird trying to fit Christ into my lifestyle. Christ should be my lifestyle.

BUT, as a human, that's very hard to do. Since my brain is not in perfect working order and my heart not in complete surrender all the time…I can see how the disciplines can train our minds and sync our beliefs with our actions.  But I do not have much desire during this season of life to fit those disciplines in. Shouldn't communion with God be a more natural moment-by-moment all-day activity?

Here's the thing: If Jesus were with me right now, would I even ask him about spiritual disciplines? I would feel like such a Pharisee for trying to discuss them with Him! Jesus doesn't talk about spiritual disciplines! No, here's the thing: Jesus is here with me. If that's the one thing I can get into my thick head and it stays there, I may not need to intentionally practice the other spiritual disciplines. They might just show up anyway because they're a natural part of life with Jesus. I just don't know if fasting for the sake of fasting is worth it. Or if praying because it's that time of day again makes any sense. Or if putting a couple volunteer hours in a week for a cause really counts as communion with God. It might make me feel like I'm doing my part and being a good person, but am I really in communion with God because I do those things? I know many have found the disciplines valuable. But ideally I see them being more common rather than set apart. I'm tired of Jesus being an idea that sits on a pew or goes down to the homeless shelter to serve a meal once a week. This is what I'm tossing around lately. I haven't been blogging, but the subject matter is there.

If I get time, I would like to try to write something on the most recent chapter I read from The Celebration of Discipline on the discipline of simplicity. It so appeals to me, not as a discipline though; as a lifestyle. Maybe that's what Richard Foster is getting at anyway.

Study | Days 3-12

I finished the chapter on study and found that Foster meant for more than scripture to be studied. He encourages the study of other books, particularly Christian classics. Dietrich Bonhoeffer's The Cost of Discipleship was mentioned. Although I still haven't finished that book entirely, it has changed my life. The intensity of Bonhoeffer's walk is motivating and really knocks down walls of complacency.

Foster encourages people to ready through and study large books in the Bible that are often read in segments instead of all the way through. I could benefit from this. But I'm trying to take his advice on reading through a smaller book every day for a month, but haven't succeeded in reading past chapter 2 on the days I've tried. I'm starting to doubt that I can take on the challenge of memorizing the entire book of James. It seems like such a huge book now that I look at it that way. This is what I have so far, "James, a bondservant of God and of the Lord Jesus Christ, to the twelve tribes in the Dispersion. Greetings."

I have the greeting memorized. Amazing. Discipline is not my strength, as I've noted before.

Another surprising element of study that Foster mentions is the study of nonverbal "books." Nature, current events, human relationships, yourself. He said, for example, to watch "how much our speech is aimed at justifying our actions. We find it almost impossible to act and allow the act to speak for itself... Because of pride and fear, because our reputations are at stake!" I've noticed this in myself lately! And it's driving me nuts how I'm so afraid of people thinking wrongly of me or pointing a guilty finger at me. This is especially true in my marriage. I always want to convince my husband my motives are pure so he will understand why I do things and not be upset. But if my motives are pure then why do I have to keep trying to prove it? I'm kind of annoyed by this in myself now, but at least I'm aware of it. It's a habit I didn't even know existed in myself. Who would have thought I would have discovered it in from reading a chapter on the discipline of study?

Study | Days 1-2

I skipped the chapter of fasting because I am a nursing mother and should not practice that discipline until Benjamin is no longer relying on me for calories and nutrients. I'm relieved, to be honest. I am not that interested in fasting. But I sense that God wants me to experience it and some day I'll go there.

Yesterday I started Foster's chapter on Study. About a week ago Shane challenged me to memorize the book of James. It was mostly to practice memorization than it was to be spiritual. I have a dreadful memory and it sometimes results in messy situations. Forgetting to return an important phonecall. Forgetting to pay a bill. Forgetting a project deadline. I have a decent short-term memory. I would get A's on tests in school because I could memorize all the content the night before. But final exams weren't so great because I didn't retain information throughout the semester. I think I might take on Shane's challenge, but also practice the discipline of study in the fashion that Richard Foster suggests.

He says there are four steps to this discipline.

1. Repitition
2. Concentration
3. Reflection
4. Comprehension

I'm good at repitition. It's almost mindless and I can do that while focusing my attention elsewhere. Concentration I'm good at when I want to be. But I don't practice it unless I have to. Reflection is something I usually only come to when my emotions drive me there. If I feel something strongly enough, or I'm experiencing something that is deeply affecting me, I enjoy taking time to reflect (...and even write a blog about those reflections!).

Comprehension hurts. At least it does when I try hard enough to obtain comprehension. It's like my mind struggles to wrap entirely around a subject. I start battling all other possibilities and questioning whether or not I really comprehended the subject, or if it is even possible to get it. I prefer a "eureka" moment when I suddenly understand and it all makes sense in a natural and exciting way. It's much less exhausting than striving toward comprehension. I'm not saying I don't strive, because some things I want to get. If it's important enough to me I'll strive. But studying just because I know it's good for me. Makes me want to go take a nap just thinking about it.

So I guess the habit that needs broken is laziness. I don't mind admitting that. Because if I can stare laziness in the face and see how ugly and broken it can make a situation, then I'll stand a chance of conquering this habit. Get thee behind me!

The book of James better be at least somewhat exciting. I can't remember if it is...

Prayer | Days 33-41

My coworker shared this poem with my department on Tuesday that seemed to go along well with this blog and what I'm learning/working on. I can't forget why I'm on this journey in the first place. It isn't so I fully understand the disciplines and perfect them. I just want to deny my self-serving and unhealthy habits that only push me away from God.

I'd like to end the prayer section of this blog reflecting on a few key points I've learned about prayer.

• Foster advises to not make prayer complicated but to come to the Lord as a child to her Father in honesty and humility. Seeing prayer this way gives me peace.
• Pray for others. All the time. God's compassion in us drives us in prayer. Foster says if we dread praying for someone then don't. He will give the assignment to someone else with compassion for the person or circumstance. We are not necessarily called to pray for every thing that is before us that needs prayer. I recently felt an overwhelming amount of emotion when reconnecting with an old friend and looking through her online photos. I felt so much a desire to pray for her, so I did. When I shared this with her in an email she messaged me back with a piece of wisdom I have never heard: "Let the emotions flow like tears. Intercession doesn't always mean there is a great need to address but it also means there is a great and deep communion to be had."
• What she said is exactly what I had been realizing about prayer. Prayer is communion. It changes lives and circumstances, but mostly it changes us because we are in communion with our heavenly Father.

Prayer | Days 19-32

I am slow to put my goals into practice. I am slow to accomplish items on any to-do list unless it is easy or quick. That being said, I've barely scratched the surface of my goals listed in the last blog (I at least have a prayer box now) and feel like I've only dipped a toe in the ocean of disciplined prayer. I might take Richard Foster's suggestion of reading a whole other book on prayer because there is too much to fit into his one chapter. Perhaps I should do my own Scriptural study on prayer. Honestly, I don't really want to and it seems kind of silly to some extent.

I guess what bugs me about the exploration of prayer (whether my own exploration or someone else's) is that it can turn into such an intense separate subject that it detracts from the key message/goal which is God Himself. I don't want to study prayer. I want to draw closer to God and know Him more. Prayer is just a way of doing that and seems simple enough without having to study it, for crying out loud. Jesus' example of prayer is so perfectly simple and all encompassing ("Our Father who art in heaven..."). Yet, He spoke with God so regularly I would hardly call it prayer. I would call it communion. Is that what prayer is? Then why is it important for me to make prayer a distinct discipline when it should be a common integrated part of my life? In my mind, prayer should not even be a word. Communion makes most sense. It's what takes place when two come together and converse. A lack of conversation is almost impossible with my husband on a daily basis. So shouldn't a lack of conversation be almost impossible with the God who lives inside me? The times when I lack conversation with my husband is when we are on bad terms with one another. We don't desire to be with one another when we've hurt or misunderstood each other. Thankfully God does not do wrong or misunderstand me. It's a one-sided issue when there is an issue. Which means I have the ability to draw near again to him when I confess and submit. And if confession and submission are daily then I stay in communion.

Communion. When I think of prayer in this way, I desire it. I see God sitting with me as I thank Him for the meal. I feel His arm around me when I cry in despair for a hurt loved one. I see Him nod in understanding when I'm frustrated with violence and injustice.

God, I long to experience communion with you all day every day. Help me to never face an hour without speaking and listening to you. You ARE near. I just sometimes forget You're with me and walk away from You. Please help me remember. Brand Yourself on my heart so I know forever I'm Yours.
 __________________

A side note: I unplugged our TV for Lent. My days feel suddenly longer and I'm playing with more toys and reading more books and washing more dishes. :)


Another side note: I think I've made small forward steps in my communion with God. I'm asking for guidance more before I pray. I love the practice of listening to Him before jumping into prayer.