Tag: prayer

Sounds in the Stairwell

Chris De ManLeave a comment

I really like our house. It has truly been a home for the eight years we’ve been here. Granted, we did quite a bit of work reclaiming it from the realm of neglect so that it could serve our active family of seven. Now with everyone away at school or setting-up their own household, a quietness covers a trove of memories.

Not long ago, our children enlightened us to an interesting feature of our home. It’s a two-story house with a stairway in the middle that connects our main and upper floor. Over the years, it was not uncommon for my wife and I to have ‘parental’ conversations on the main floor in a corner of the kitchen. If you’re a parent you know these types of talks: mildly intense with moments of disagreement and bits of frustration. Thus, when the need arose for such conversations, a corner of the kitchen seemed a safe place for dialogue presuming the kids were out of ear shot, nestled in their bedrooms upstairs. We were wrong. Now adults, our children have reported that anything said in the kitchen, whispered or not, travelled nearly unabated up the stairway and into their eager ears. Oh, boy.

Overall, I’m not too disturbed that my kids got some inside scoop on our parenting. It’s probably healthy in the long run to glean some of the political and relational machinations involved in raising children. But the acoustical dynamics of our own home made me reflect a bit more on my present situation.

For some time I’ve been longing to hear clearly from God. I’ve desired clarity with my ideas, involvements, and life in general. Lately, it’s been a rather tough go as I’ve found it difficult to settle my spirit and be still. To patiently wait for a word.

In the past, I’ve felt more attuned to God, having a better sense of purpose and how I specifically lived that out in the day-to-day. Life still had bumps and detours but I was moving at a steady pace in a good direction. But now the pace is different and the land seems foreign. As bedrooms have become offices and our time more discretionary, this moment is both exciting and unsettling. So as I wait on God in this newness, I’m a bit disoriented by His silence.

But is God really being silent with me? This past week I had the thought come to mind (maybe from God?) that perhaps my disorientation is, in part, because I’m ensconced in the noise of my own fretting. As I’ve wondered and worried and over-thought my circumstance, is it possible that I’ve internally squelched God’s still, small voice? Have my anxieties and uncertainties effectively noise-cancelled His overtures of care? If so, what’s to be done?

Referencing the sabbath, Dallas Willard said, “The command is “Do no work.” Just make space. Attend to what is around you. Learn that you don’t have to do to be. Accept the grace of doing nothing. Stay with it until you stop jerking and squirming.” I think Willard’s thoughts apply beyond just sabbath keeping. I’m working way too hard to figure my life out. I’m jerking and squirming and fretting and worrying. I’m not hearing because I’m not ready to listen. While I might like God’s voice to flow to me as easily as it does up our stairwell, I need the Spirit to settle my spirit and open my heart to rest. To listen. To receive comfort and clarity at the time and the way that God desires.

As I invite the Spirit to help me settle, I’m remembering that Jesus promised to never leave nor forget about me. I am never out of His thoughts. This is true in every moment—even when we’re quiet together.

Reorientation Needed

Chris De Man4 Comments
Our Newest Adoptees — Benito and Sophia

We adopted, again.

Early in October our family grew by two. This time we didn’t need to travel to Ethiopia. Instead, we drove 20 minutes down the road to a local animal shelter.

Soon after the sibling pair of 8-week old kittens set paws in our home we realized we had not adequately prepared ourselves, nor our home, for the onslaught of frenzied play and prolific use of tiny claws. The jumping and climbing and racing about brought us joy, laughter, and a few disciplinary actions. Those moments also served as a reminder of what it’s like to have “children” in the home once again. Before adopting it may have been helpful to reorient ourselves to the demands of pet ownership since it has been almost a dozen years since welcoming our last young pet (we still miss you, Nacho!).

While our acclimation to the kittens has been swift and enjoyable, the same cannot be said about the circumstances of this year. The unexpected and unwelcome have been unsettling and disorienting. My response to the pandemic, the US election, disrupted holiday plans and general upheaval in most things has generated a blend of anxiety, fear, discontent, and at times, anger. I’ve wrestled deep in my soul with the unmooring of predictable things that provide a sense of security. It seems nothing is as it was, and I wonder if it ever will be again.

Several weeks ago, the Spirit led me to meditate on Psalm 146. In the succinct beauty of those ten verses are comfort, encouragement, and perspective. Through those inspired words we’re reminded that God lifts us when we’re discouraged. He takes notice and cares for the needy, forgotten, and marginalized. He is our help and our hope. The psalmist also implores us to orient ourselves not to the people and plans of this world, but to the One who made heaven and earth. Our God, who in this moment–and in every moment during this disorienting year–has remained faithful as He rules and reigns in perfect goodness and love.

As we enter the Advent season, now is a good time for reorientation–not to pet ownership, but to God. Advent offers an opportunity to quiet myself in prayerful, intentional reflection on my past and present situation. As I ponder my anxieties and disappointments of the past several months, I find this perspective from David Benner helpful:

“Jesus is the antidote to fear. His love—not our believing certain things about him or trying to do as he commands—is what holds the promise of releasing us from the bondage of our inner conflicts, guilt and terror. Jesus comes to show us what God is like. Knowing how we would react to a god who suddenly turned up on the human scene, God becomes human, to meet us where we are and minimize our fears. The incarnation is God reaching out across the chasm caused by our sin and starting the relationship all over again. The incarnation reveals true Love reaching out to dispel fear.”

David Benner, Surrender to Love, p.50.

During this first week of Advent, join me in reorienting to Love. Let’s acknowledge what’s real and true through honest moments of personal examination, confession, repentance, and forgiveness. Together let’s proclaim, “I will sing praise to my God as long as I live” (Psalm 146:2) as we align ourselves to the King who reigns yesterday, and this day, and forever. He is our only hope, and He is worthy of our praise.

A Prayer for Reorientation
Father in Heaven, my welcoming King,
I’ve wanted and wandered, longing for more;
Attune my affections to You alone,
and help me surrender to Love.

“There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear.”
(1 John 4:18a ESV)

An Advent of Becoming

Chris De Man4 Comments

It’s been a long slog through jack-rabbit starts and anti-locked stops. Back roads and main roads and residential roads. Blind spot blindness and forgetful signaling. Missed turns and tight turns but always (fingers-crossed) a safe return. Now we’re rounding the final turn with our youngest child. Number five. Just a few more hours to log and we’ll be done — forever — with driver’s education.

Our progression toward becoming safe, proficient, confident drivers requires the acquisition of knowledge and skill. We study the rules of the road. We practice driving to gain familiarity with  vehicle characteristics. We travel on different types of road to master the nuances of city, highway, and residential driving. We push buttons, turn knobs, and adjust mirrors to develop our man-machine relationship. Learning to drive is a process of doing specific things to foster driving competency. In short, we do to become.

What we do — the activities, involvements, relationships, and places we inhabit — determines the trajectory of our life. Our “doings” mold our imagination and develop our character. Pause now, just for a moment, and review this past week. Ponder your everyday activities. Your noble acts, secret indulgences, and subconscious routines. Where did you go? Who were you with? What conversations did you have? What did you do to rest and refresh? What caused frustration and how did you respond? Don’t bury, ignore or conveniently forget a thing. God is neither unaware nor surprised by you. It’s important to dwell upon your doing because it directly affects who you are and who you are becoming.

The life of a Christ-follower should be a deeply earnest, all-out effort of submission and contrition. An uncompromised commitment and trust that God will come alongside and masterfully balance our pain and progress toward becoming more like Jesus. Granted, me writing (and you reading) those words oversimplifies the process. While I long to be more Christ-like, it doesn’t take much to knock me off kilter. It could be a poor night of sleep, frustrations at work, parenting struggles, misunderstandings, illness, a dwindling bank account, loneliness, headaches, shopping malls, or a rough driver’s ed drive. Even running out of coffee can unleash my dark side.

Photo by Rota Alternativa on Unsplash

Christian living is neither simple nor automatic. It’s packed with mystery into which we must venture by faith. But faith requires… faith. In his book, Lament for a Son, Nicholas Wolterstorff said, “Faith is a footbridge that you don’t know will hold you up over the chasm until you’re forced to walk out onto it.” (76) To trust is to risk. And rather than release my moment-by-moment existence to Jesus by faith, I’m tempted to corral my activities into safe places. I craft what I believe will be a simpler, easier path that routes me around pain and keeps me in relative comfort. But if my doings are self-protective acts of distrust, then who am I becoming?

This Sunday (December 1) is the beginning of the Christian liturgical year, which kicks-off with the season of Advent. Advent is a sacred time of anticipation, longing, and mindfulness. A four-week period to reflect on the cosmic conjunction of the divine and human in the God-Man, Jesus. As we enter Advent, join me as I seek to infuse my Christmas preparations with intentional “doing” as I ask God where I’m at on the path of becoming. Consider whether you’re stepping toward Christlikeness or wandering wild? Perhaps you’re earnest but aimless? Maybe it has been some time since you did any serious spiritual work. No matter your present circumstance God sees, knows, and cares. He beckons you onto the footbridge of faith.

Together, let’s commit to using this pre-Christmas season to evaluate, confess, repent, and pray. Let’s seek the Spirit for counsel and comfort as we invite a personal advent of spiritual refinement. Let’s reform our doing with great expectation for what we’re becoming!

A Prayer for Becoming
Omniscient Father of Providence,
progenitor of life and breath in my soul,
weave my doing with the Fruit of your Spirit,
call forth in me what I’m to become.

“Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves. Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Share with the Lord’s people who are in need. Practice hospitality.”
(Romans 12:9–13, NIV)