Archive for » June, 2010 «

How do you simplify your life? I love simple living—I think. Last week we went camping, and I thought about simplicity. A lot of things I packed were never used, but I wanted them “just in case.” The crocheting was ignored, and the lake was too cold for my swimsuit.

I left most things at home–my computer, day planner, TV, and hot, running water. However, I don’t think I would want to live long term without these wonderful additions to my life. I just can’t have them dominating my days.

So does living a simple life mean eating out of my garden and riding my bike to the grocery store? Do I curl up with a good book every evening and throw the TV out with the water heater? Why do such pictures pop into my head when I think of simplicity?

I recently read a quote by Mary Gregory that put the whole subject into perspective for me. “Simplicity does not mean getting rid of all of your possessions, but rather integrating them into your life’s purpose.”

I like that. Things, activities, amusements, and obligations that contribute to my life purpose need to remain. Everything else has to go. Guess I’d better start cleaning out those closets, scratch out some stuff on my day planner, and learn to say, “No, that isn’t going to work for me right now, but thank you for asking.”

What are your thoughts on living a simple life?

In Him together, Susan Gaddis

Celtic Christians lived an intertwined life of work and prayer, knitting the two together in such a way that the work of the day became the prayer of life.

In her book, The Celtic Way of Prayer, Esther De Waal explains the Celtic practice of work and prayer. “… there was no separation of praying and living; praying and working flow into each other, so that life is to be punctuated by prayer, become prayer.”

Morning hygiene happened slowly and in the name of the Trinity as each palmful of water was splashed upon the face.

The palmful of the God of Life,
The palmful of the Christ of Love,
The palmful of the Spirit of Peace,
  Triune
  Of grace.
 

The task of making the bed became a time of prayer as seen in this Irish prayer, one of many collected in 1906 by Douglas Hyde.

I make this bed
In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit
In the name of the night we were conceived,
In the name of the night we were born,
In the name of the day we were baptized,
In the name of each night, each day,
Each angel that is in the heavens.
 

Alistair MacLean recorded this prayer in Hebridean Altars for days when our work load seems overwhelming or dull.

Even though the day be laden
and my task dreary
and my strength small,
a song keeps singing
in my heart.
For I know that I am Thine.
I am part of Thee.
Thou art kin to me,
and all my times
are in Thy hand.
 

And finally, this prayer from Hebridean Altars:

Seven times a day, as I work upon this hungry farm, I say to Thee, “Lord, why am I here? What is there here to stir my gifts to growth? What great things can I do for others—I who am captive to this dreary toil?” And seven times a day Thou answerest, “I cannot do without thee. Once did My Son live thy life, and by His faithfulness did show My mind, My kindness, and My truth to men. But now He is come to My side, and thou must take His place.”
 

What comes out of your heart and mouth as you work your way through your day?

In Him Together, Susan Gaddis

Do you ever notice the people who reside in the margins of your life–the elderly neighbor, the homeless guy with the sign standing at the side of the intersection, or the girl with acne bagging your groceries? There are folks we barely acknowledge at work, the gym, or even church.

Why, I wonder, do certain people draw my attention and others are pushed to the side in my mental overview of a room? I think Emily Sander got it right when she said, “Safety in a community gets defined by how the most marginal person in the community is treated. We all believe that if people could see into our hearts and know who we really are, we too might be rejected, so we notice how those at the margins are welcomed.”

Here’s a test to see how well you welcome  the marginal people who occupy the borders of your life:

1. What are the names of the children of your least known neighbor? How many houses down from you does this family live?

2. Who always sits on the back row at church and why?

3. Who struggles with a serious health issue at your workplace or at your church? When did you last talk with them? What did you talk about?

4. Name three single moms you know who struggle raising their kids. How might you encourage them?

5. What is your mailman’s name?

Who are the marginal people in your life, and how are you treating them?

In Him together, Susan Gaddis

Prayer, fasting, giving and meditating in the Scriptures are all spiritual disciplines. So is worship. I don’t usually put worship on my list of spiritual disciplines. A spiritual practice for sure, but I haven’t listed it as a discipline–at least not in my mind.

I’ve been reading over the Psalms and noticing how often that book puts us in the place of ministering before the Lord with praise and thanksgiving. The New Testament goes beyond mere ministers and calls us priests. Priests minister before and to the Lord.

Worship is the main ministry we do for the Lord even if all we are is a “gatekeeper in the house of our God.” Pretty big assignment if you ask me. Worship is work. It is what we will be doing for the rest of eternity future. It is something we are to learn to do well and practice even now, and it doesn’t always come easy. That’s why I think it is a spiritual discipline.

However, something I’ve noticed in my circle of Charismatic relationships is that worship isn’t always regarded as our spiritual work. It’s been hijacked into being one of our unalienable rights to a good spiritual experience.

Some seem to think that church is not really church unless we have a moving encounter with God during worship. If our emotions aren’t involved then worship doesn’t cut it. If one is not emotionally stirred then the service isn’t spiritual enough. Some people even change churches because their expectation of good worship isn’t being met at their current place “of worship.”

I wonder how many worship teams believe that their job description is to provide a time for people to experience God or that they are to set an atmosphere where people can encounter Him. I hope they understand that their job is to minister before the Lord and to do so in front of all of us in the congregation so that as a community of worshippers we can follow their lead in worshipping the Lord of Heaven and Earth.

I’m not against having good feelings or an awesome experience when I worship. I especially appreciate it when I encounter God during worship. But a gatekeeper, or a worshipper, doesn’t always encounter the Lord of the Manor. Gatekeepers, or servants, are known for how unnoticeable they are. They blend into the background and not the forefront. Good feelings, awesome experiences, and encountering the Living God are not the purpose of worship. These are byproducts. Good byproducts, but byproducts none the less.

It was King David who said that he would not offer to God that which had cost him nothing. One reason the Scriptures call us to give ourselves as a living sacrifice and to offer the sacrifice of praise is because sacrifices can only be given when we have to forfeit something. A sacrifice will cost you. Bottom line–we are not on the receiving end when we worship. We are on the giving end.

When we gather together as the church, we assemble to minister to the Lord. Our job description, every one of us, is to bless Him and minister to Him. Not the other way around. Sounds like work to me!

So the work of worship deserves more study, practicing, perfecting, and performing. I’ll let you know how my musings on this spiritual discipline go.

In Him together, Susan Gaddis

This post is a reprint of my May 7, 2009 post from my Sabbath and Sabbatical blog.

photo by Dominic Morel

Do you ever have one of those days when life just seems depressing? Most of us do. If we wallow in the mud of our depressing mood, we end up covered in mental and emotional yuck. Here are 10 things to do to climb out of a mudhole of depression.

1. Read through some Psalms and remember that God’s love for you is not based on your mood. He loves you even when you can’t feel his presence.

2. Send an appreciation card to someone who has done something nice for you.

3. Set one goal to accomplish today. Make it attainable and not overwhelming. Then do it!

4. Go for a jog or a walk, and focus on the details of creation around you. Look at anything that grows, identify the smells coming your way, and listen for new sounds.

5. Make a list of 30 blessings in your life.

6. Take a lunch to the park and watch the children playing. Pray for them and their parents.

7. Write a list of how God has used you in the lives of other people.

8. Take coffee to the church secretary.

9. Play racket ball or swim. Exercise adjusts the chemicals in your brain, which helps your mood.

10. Get alone and pour your heart out to God. Ask for his strength and joy.

Still in the mudhole? Check out Help Guide for more suggestions on fighting depression.

What have you found helpful to do when faced with feelings of depression? (Oh, and don’t forget to walk the dog.)

In Him together, Susan Gaddis

Korbin Weber doing the important job of growing up

Years ago my mother had me memorize certain poems with the hope they would inspire integrity and grown-up behavior. Memorizing poetry was a common tool in child rearing during my mother’s generation, slowly lost in mine, and pretty much nonexistent in most parents’ toolboxes today. However, I did pass my mother’s wisdom on to my children by requiring the same memory work from them that I had endured. 

A memorized poem turns into a valuable asset when the Spirit Holy wants to bring a line or two to your attention in situations needing grown-up behavior. If, by Rudyard Kipling, is one such poem.  

“If” by Rudyard Kipling
 
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
 
If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ‘em up with worn-out tools;
 
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”
 
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run—
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!


What memorized poem influences your life?

 

In Him together, Susan Gaddis

Growing up on a cattle ranch taught me a lot about life, people, and God. Although I still have a lot to learn, I submit to you 10 life lessons gleaned from my ranch archives.   

  1. Creation is God’s altar. Don’t forget to worship.
  2. God speaks in the storm as well as the breeze. Listen and learn.
  3. Don’t drink from the cattle trough, and don’t mess with the bull.
  4. A cow path is the shortest and easiest distance from here to there, but you’ll miss a lot of adventure if you follow the cow path.
  5. Never kick a cow chip on a hot day, and don’t throw one at your brother.
  6. Don’t make a pet of something you plan to eat.
  7. Avoid egg fights in the barn when dressed in your Sunday best.
  8. Don’t interfere with a critter if he isn’t bothering you.
  9. You can’t tell how good a man or watermelon is until they get thumped.
  10. Good judgment comes from experience, and a lot of that comes from bad judgment.

Any bits of life wisdom you’d like to share in the comment section below?

In Him together, Susan Gaddis

It was George Eliot who said, “She was no longer wrestling with the grief, but could sit down with it as a lasting companion and make it a sharer in her thoughts.”

Grief is natural, although it is never fun. It signals the loss of something that will probably never be recovered. Any kind of loss will invoke grief, such as the death of a loved one, the loss of a job, a move to a new community, or even the end of a ministry. However, it is usually within the context of death that we most expect to encounter grief.

Unfortunately, many of us have never had to face death as our forefathers did. One hundred years ago, death was a part of daily life. When a family member died, they were laid out in the parlor for viewing by family and friends. It was these family and friends who helped the mortician clean and dress the body. People knew what death looked liked and how to process it.

Today, the dead are removed at once to the mortuary where all the preparations are done for the family. The viewing is often formal as family and friends meet in a strange place to look at someone who, in death, appears unlike the loved one.

As a result, many of us do not know how to process death or walk with someone through the process of grieving. Yet, this is one of our highest callings—to weep with those who weep. The following are guidelines for helping someone deal with bereavement:

Allow the person to express their emotions. Do not pressure them to express their feelings if they are not comfortable with doing so. Expect intermittent outpouring of crying, anger, or withdrawal.

Come out of your own personal comfort zone and be available to listen, talk, baby-sit, or send meals and cards on a regular basis throughout the first year of grieving. Be sensitive to their need to be touched or hugged.

Be a ready listener both for adults and children. People need to talk about their feelings, the details of the death and funeral, memories of the deceased, and the reasons for dying. Gently challenge irrational conclusions. Avoid preaching or using clichés.

Pray for and with the bereaved, and comfort them with the promises of Scripture or words of a song or poem. The promises of God are what often sustain us, and others, through the hard times. Hebrews 6:17–20 tells us that they are the anchor of hope that holds our ship stable through the storms of life.

Do not say things like, “Well, he led a full life. It’s not as though he were dying young,” or, “I know just how you feel,” or “Time will heal.” Remember, every grief is a very personal agony. Refrain from such comments as, “She died because she was in rebellion toward God,” or “It was God’s will.”

Keep in mind the stages of the grieving process to aid in your understanding of what a person might be going through: (1) shock over the death, (2) denial of the death, (3) anger at God, the deceased, others, and self, (4) guilt, (5) bargaining with God, (6) withdrawal, (7) searching, and (8) acceptance of the death.

Knowing how to help someone through the process of grief comes through practice. What have you found to be beneficial, or detrimental, when you have lost a loved one or walked with a friend through grief?

(This post is adapted from Help, I’m Stuck With These People For the Rest of Eternity.)

In Him together, Susan Gaddis

Having a difficult day? Did you know that one of the most spiritual things you can do when you feel down is to dance?

God dances. And he dances when we are in the midst of difficulty. And it is us that he dances with. And he dances with intensity. Zephaniah 3:16 –17 paints a picture of this when it uses the Hebrew word “guwl” for the word “rejoice.” “Guwl” means “to spin about” or “dance violently.”

“On that day they will say to Jerusalem, ‘Do not fear, O Zion; do not let your hands hang limp. The Lord your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice (spin about and dance violently) over you with singing’” (NIV)

So if your circumstances bring you down, go out and dance. Let your body express your prayer for hope, love, and laughter. Don’t let your hands hang limp. And as you dance, imagine the Lord of the Dance spinning about and dancing violently as he sings his love song over you.

Yes, you may feel a little strange dancing when you don’t feel like it, especially if the Lord is your unseen partner. But who cares what people think. It was Angela Monet who said, “Those who danced were thought to be quite insane by those who could not hear the music.”

The Hopi people have a saying: “To watch us dance is to hear our hearts speak.” Let your heart speak.

Have you ever danced in the face of difficulties? How did that change you?

In Him together, Susan Gaddis

Three Musicians by Picasso

A story is told of Pablo Picasso riding on a train when a man approached him and asked him why, as a famous painter, he did not paint people “the way they really are.” Picasso asked the man what he meant by that expression.

The man opened his wallet and took out a snapshot of his wife, saying, “That’s my wife.”

Picasso responded, “Isn’t she rather small and flat?”

Most of us live and work with flat people and fail to realize that our limited perception misses the realms of possibility and wonder hidden within. Seeing people the way they really are is impossible, but we can see them as more than flat.

Usually we form a quick opinion of a person gleaned from a few interactions with him or her. That information is then filtered through what others have told us about the individual. As time goes on, we view this person through the stories we ingrain within—stories based on what we continue to hear and experience of his or her actions and life events.

Some of these stories are good, and some are not, but all stories are limited, since we cannot know a person’s thoughts, motives, hopes, dreams, or the details of the past that have shaped his personality.

Without realizing it, we trap ourselves into certain patterns and ways of thinking concerning the people around us. We see only what we are inclined to see derived from our interpretation of the stories we’ve collected about them in our mental file cabinet.

Finding the Holy in the daily often means looking at people through new glasses—seeing the wonder that God has placed within them, finding the unexpected sparkle behind their story, and assuming the best about them.

Are the people around you flat? Are there aspects to their stories you are missing? How can you change the way you interpret these people?

In Him together, Susan Gaddis

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