Lent

Lent started this past Wednesday.

I am not quite as fascinated with Lent as I am with Advent (perhaps because of the traditions associated with Lent — fasting, penitence, prayer, etc.) But, this season has existed for years and years (since the 4th century) in the Church calendar. And I think that I, and we as believers, have much to learn from the Church’s history and observance of this season. Running from Ash Wednesday to triumphant Easter Sunday, Lent is a season marked by introspection, fasting, prayer and service.

But it is not only about self-denial. It’s not simply about “giving up” this or that. It’s about letting go of that which is harmful, for that which is good and beneficial. Or maybe it’s even about letting go of that which is good, so that we can grab hold of what is best. It’s a season of less of us, and more of Christ.

So, over these next five weeks as we approach Easter — the glorious moment that defines our faith — I will be posting thoughts, quotes, and readings on Lent.

I invite you to join me on this journey. You don’t have to “give up” something. But you can devote these next weeks as a season set apart unto God — a season where you’ll look inward a little more.  A season where you might pray a few more times than usual to “know Christ and His sufferings.” A season marked by more time spent in prayer and in His word. A season of keeping company with Christ.

I am praying for you and for me, that in this season, we will know Christ more deeply than we have before.

The Word who sustains

I have felt especially weary as of late. Chalk it up to a mixture of winter weather, somewhat of a job transition, processing emotions, a tooth ache, and other things. I have felt weary. Tired. The days of waking up feeling “Eh I’m not sure I want to do today” have been more frequent.

I didn’t really realize I felt this way until late last week. I had felt exhausted. Tired. But on Thursday night I finally articulated: I’m weary.

That next day, I was reminded of one of the servant songs of Isaiah, when it says, of Jesus,

“The Sovereign LORD has given me an instructed tongue,
to know the word that sustains the weary.” Isaiah 50:4

Jesus knows the words that sustain the weary. But He Himself is also the Word who sustains the weary. So I talked to God on Saturday morning, and I asked to know Jesus better. To know Him, and to know His words. To remember, like it says in Hebrews 12, His suffering and His endurance, so that I might not grow weary and lose heart. For if Jesus knows the word that sustains the weary, then I want to open my ears to Him to hear him, that I might be refreshed.

When I’m tired, sleep refreshes me and restores strength to my body. But when I’m weary, the only thing that brings energy back to my tired frame is being with Jesus, and listening to Him speak. It is only when I go to Jesus, the very Word who sustains, that I am renewed and refreshed, and the weariness is lifted.

“Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy-laden and overburdened, and I will cause you to rest. [I will ease and relieve and refresh your souls.] Take My yoke upon you and learn of Me, for I am gentle (meek) and humble (lowly) in heart, and you will find rest (relief and ease and refreshment and recreation and blessed quiet) for your souls.” – Jesus (Matthew 11:28-29)

Afraid of alone

A little while ago, as I left hanging out with a friend and was going home to an empty house, I tensed up and started getting really anxious. I didn’t want to be alone. I was afraid of a Saturday night at home, because, well, I didn’t want to feel lonely.

This wouldn’t be any big deal, if say, I was extremely extroverted, and the thought of a quiet night at home was terrifying to me. But I’m just the opposite, and I generally enjoy time by myself. I recharge when I am alone. But for some reason, this time, being alone was scary to me.

Image from Pinterest

A few days later, I was talking with a dear friend about this loneliness. Where had it come from? It had moved in like a foggy cold front… Just hanging over everything, and blanketing it in a gray haze. Why did I resist being by myself? Why did the prospect of a quiet night at home with a copy of Team of Rivals and a glass of wine make me anxious? We talked, and as our conversation drew to a close, that same feeling rose up again in me: this quality time of hanging out was over, and I was going home — most likely to an empty house, and not much else to do but peruse other people’s lives on Pinterest and go to bed.

My friend stepped in though, and pierced the thoughts that I was already beginning to have. (If you don’t have a friend like that, you need one. They point out the truth when we are too close to see it). She said, “Caroline, you shouldn’t be afraid of being alone.”

She expounded on what she said, and reminded me that there was a difference between being alone and loneliness. You see, I had started to fear being alone because, sometimes, that’s when the loneliness would start to creep in. But what I needed to be reminded of is that there is a stark difference between alone and lonely.

I had been running away from the very thing that I needed — time alone, time in solitude. Because the truth is that there is company in our alone-ness. I am finding that those times when I am most afraid to be alone, those are the times when Jesus comes. Perhaps he doesn’t speak too much, but He most certainly comes. And in being alone, I am reminded, again, that I am really not at all lonely, but that He is there, ever-present with me.

There is much silence to be cultivated, and great stretches of solitude to be guarded, for these, silence and solitude, are as essential to the soul as meat and potatoes are to the body. – Eugene Peterson, Answering God

Reason to sing

Sorry I’ve been MIA for the last week. I came down with a nasty sinus infection last week that knocked me out. But I’m back, and bound and determined to write up here a few times this week.

Today is Tuesday, which means… new music!!

Honestly, I love waking up on Tuesdays (or staying up on Monday nights) to be able to listen to new music.

When it comes to music, I am ravenous. I devour songs and albums very quickly. I find them on Rdio or in iTunes, and wind up listening to them, repeatedly, until I can simply wear them out. So my appetite for new music — for new sounds, for new lyrics that help articulate the emotions I feel, for new albums that move me and speak to me and inspire me– is unending.

Today, All Sons and Daughters release their second EP, Reason to Sing:

They released the song “Reason to sing”  as a live track sometime last year, and it quickly became a song of my heart in this past season. There are times when we are broken or sad, and it is simply hard to sing. When we’re in seasons that are painful, or seasons that we don’t understand, it can be hard to sing. How can we praise God for the pain? And so we ask for a reason to sing… to be reminded of who God is, that He is good, that He is here, and that He is at work. Like All Sons and Daughters sing, “I need to know that You’re still holding the whole world in Your hands; that is a reason to sing.”

I’ve listened to the album a couple times now, and while I like all the tracks, “Oh Our Lord” and “Wake Up” are standing out to me right now.

Go grab this album. It’s only $6, and the songs will speak to your heart and soul and cause you to worship God. You won’t be disappointed.

Reading – Favorites from 2011 and Goals for 2012

My One Word is supposed to keep me from making vague resolutions that I really have no likelihood of keeping. But I do like setting goals. It helps me cast vision for the year, and give me some clear objectives. The last few years, I’ve tried setting goals in several different areas of life (physical, intellectual, spiritual, etc.). Some have been better than others.

Last year, I set a very ambitious reading goal for me. I wanted to read a book each week. I didn’t make it very far, for several reasons. Mainly, I was just really tired. I didn’t exactly have it in me. But I did read a decent number of books last year.  These were some of my favorites and ones that you definitely don’t want to miss!

Unbroken, by Laura Hillenbrand (Author of Seabiscuit)

One of the best books I’ve ever read. Beautiful, redemptive story. Cried my way through the end.

 

 Hunger Games, by Suzanne Collins

Go ahead and read all three of them.

 

 

Bossypants, by Tina Fey

Simply hilarious. Tina Fey is a hero.

 

 

 Jesus, My Father, the CIA, and Me: A Memoir… Of Sorts,

by Ian Cron

Maybe my favorite read of the year. Ian Cron‘s voice is refreshing, and his story is heartbreaking and hopeful.

This year, I’m rebooting this goal and going after it again, but just a little different. I’ve scaled back a bit, and will try for 36 books this year. That’s three a month. It is doable, but it will still take time and discipline. Setting a goal like this helps give me discipline to actually finish books (rather than juggle 3 or 4 at a time). I’ll be keeping track of my books read over at Goodreads, if you want to follow along.

My first read of the new year: Duskwalker, by my friend, Jay. It’s weird to say your friend wrote a novel. But it was awesome! And I can’t wait for it to be published. So, kudos, Jay! Congrats on finishing your novel, and thanks for letting me read it.

Any recommendations of books I should read this year?

January White

I love music, and so I made a playlist called “New” the other day. Music that speaks to new beginnings, new creation. It’s a work in progress, certainly, and I’m sure (and hoping) it will grow as this year of “new” goes on. I wanted to share one of the songs from it with you, “January White,” by Sleeping at Last.

Last year, Sleeping at Last wrote an EP every month. The songs often match the mood of the month or the season. January is a cold, bleak, wintery month. But this is a happy song, full of ukulele, that has been breathing life and light into my bones. The song speaks of the promise and hope of new beginnings.

well, we could let our guards down a little easier this time,
we could trust that when there’s joy, there’s nothing dark behind.
in spite of history,
hope is january white.

On their blog, Sleeping at Last said this line was a nod to Brene Brown (another one of my favorites), and her idea of “foreboding joy.” Maybe you’ve felt it before. You’re at the height of joy, and a thought comes in that something bad is going to happen that will take the joy away. It’s like we try to beat disappointment to the punch. If we think the joy won’t last forever, then when it finally does end, we won’t be disappointed; it won’t hurt as badly.  (This isn’t an optimism/pessimism thing. Brown says it’s our culture’s problem with vulnerability).

I can relate to this all too well. I don’t always think something totally awful will happen. I’m not fatalistic. But sometimes, I catch myself questioning just how long the joy might last.

Especially during the winter months, when I am very much affected by the cold weather and shorter days, joy can be a battle. So on January days when I do feel joyful, this tendency of fearing what’s on the other side of the present joy (sadness, grief, loneliness) can start to creep up. I brace myself from the surely impending sadness, rather than living openly and expansively in joy.

This song has helped me to live in my joy. To be fully present in my joy, today, January 5. I don’t have to live in the possible fear of the joy ending. I can trust that when there’s joy, there’s nothing dark behind.

I hope you enjoy the song. And if you, like me, are affected by these winter months, take heart. The joy you feel today may not last forever, no. But don’t fear what’s behind it.

Write it down and make it plain

I spent a few hours the other day reflecting on the past year. Sitting in Starbucks, I read through my journal from 2011, reflecting on all that God did. Then I took the time to fill out the last few pages in my journal, summarizing everything from 2011. I wrote about the tears I cried, the pains and memories I faced, the moves and decisions I made.

It was time consuming, yes. But so worth it. Because even just a few days before, when I thought about 2011, I only saw the hard, dark things. I wasn’t thinking about all the growth and the good that did happen. One day, someone even remarked to me about what a transformative year this has been for me. I nodded my head, and said sure. But inside, I didn’t agree. I didn’t see the transformation God worked in my life. I only saw the nights I cried myself to sleep. I didn’t see the mornings I woke up feeling God’s mercy closer to me than ever before. I saw the hard decisions I had to make, but I didn’t see the fruit they had reaped in my life.

So a few days later, after some prompting from a friend, I decided to look back. I read nearly all of my journal entries. I looked at where I was a year ago, and where I am today.

As I read and wrote, I began to remember the numerous breakthrough conversations I had.  I remembered the things I said “no” to, and the effect that pruning had in my life.  I remembered the fears, and the victories that were waiting on the other side of them. I remembered the new friends I made, and the friendships that deepened.

As I stepped back and looked at the year in its entirety, my vision became clearer. I could see the year for what it was. I could see the transforming work of God. I could see His hand in everything. And so I went from calling this year “hard” to calling it “hard, but good.” And I was filled with new hope for this new year.

And so, before we launch headlong into 2012, I invite you to reflect on 2011. Take the time, even if it’s just 20 minutes, to write it down. Like it says in Habbakuk 2, “Write it down and make it plain.” I pray that as you do so, you would see the goodness of God in 2011, and that you would be filled with hope and expectation for 2012.