The Second Journey

In preparing for an upcoming trip back to the state where our children were mostly raised, the place where I also spent some memorable years of my own childhood, and the place where my husband and I were fully engaged in every sphere of life—it got me thinking.

Have you ever been fully engaged in life when suddenly something happens and you are no longer able to keep life in working order? When you are dragged away from chosen and cherished patterns to face strange crisis?

In Brennan Manning’s book, “The Ragamuffin Gospel,” he shares this occurrence so poignantly: “Many people between the ages of thirty and sixty- whatever their stature in the community and whatever their personal achievements - undergo what can truly be called a second journey.”

Second journeys happen in different ways and at unexpected times when suddenly what has been normal is interrupted by a probing thought (such as “Is there more to life than making money?”), a circumstance such as an accident or an infidelity, the sudden loss of a loved one, or crises of differing natures.

Manning goes on to say, “Second journeys usually end quietly with a new wisdom and a coming to a true sense of self that releases great power. The wisdom is that of an adult who has regained equilibrium, stabilized, and found fresh purpose and new dreams. It is a wisdom that gives some things up, lets some things die, and accepts human limitations. It is a wisdom that realizes: I cannot expect anyone to understand me fully. It is wisdom that admits the inevitability of old age and death. It is a wisdom that has faced the pain caused by parents, spouse, family, friends, colleagues, business associates, and has truly forgiven them and acknowledged with unexpected compassion that these people are neither angels nor devils, but only human.  

The second journey begins when we know we cannot live the afternoon of life according to the morning program. We are aware that we only have a limited amount of time left to accomplish that which is really important - and that awareness illumines for us what really matters, what really counts. This conviction provides a new center.”

For me, having a name to identify with what has been happening in my world for the last several years - a second journey or second calling -  has brought great peace and awakened an inner strength.  Instead of wondering “What’s wrong with me?” I am realizing that God is beckoning me into deeper relationship with Him.  A relationship that at times feels isolated and lonely.  I am learning day by day that God loves me as I am, not for whom I hope to one day become - no performance necessary.

Manning states that the second call is “a summons to a deeper, more mature commitment of faith where the naiveté, first fervor, and untested idealism of the morning and the first commitment have been seasoned with pain, rejection, failure, loneliness, and self-knowledge.”

If you are struggling and feel that you have been stumbling and failing; do not be discouraged.  God may be calling you into your second journey and into a new understanding of how deep is His love for you.  We are not called to project the perfect image of ourselves to the world.  We are called to love as we have been loved by the One who laid down His life for us— the One who IS Love.

As I prepare to head back to my old stomping grounds I chose to revel in the beauty of the priceless memories made with my family in a place we once called home.

Though the transition from the morning program to the afternoon program has had its share of bumps and what some might label “FAILURE,” I find that I am still smiling.  I am choosing to walk bravely through the door marked “Second Journey” filled with renewed hope and peace — with the grace of a woman who no longer fears failure; a woman deeply loved by her Creator.

Stay the Course…

Sheila

The Man in The Red Jacket

Sometimes I am inspired by a person whom I have never met.  Normally, it’s a trait that he or she possesses that I find to be inspiring in ways that may or may not make sense to anyone but me.

Lately, my inspiration has been found in a stranger: the man in the red jacket.

I see him out running, mostly in the morning hours.  I see him on the bike trail, a full head of silver hair, wearing a red jacket, running with a slow but steady pace.  His form is perfect, posture precise; I’m guessing at one time he was a force to be reckoned with.

The man in the red jacket appears to be unconcerned about his time.  His focus is on the path in front of him and nothing else.

This morning, the man in the red jacket was in my neighborhood.  I passed him in my Ford Focus and our eyes met for a second.  We exchanged a cordial wave.

I know this is odd, but in that brief moment of connecting, I felt hope.

As a woman who found solace in the pounding of the pavement for many years, the discipline and dedication of a silver haired gentleman reminded me of the joy and freedom I, too, had experienced as a pavement pounder.

I would run when I was happy, sad, confused, stressed, anxious or for no reason at all.  After I reached the point of physical exhaustion, the end of my own resources, in raw weakness I would often hear His voice.  Sometimes His voice was so clear that the sheer weight of His presence would stop me dead in my tracks.

The man in the red jacket symbolizes the ability to remember the past without still attempting to live there; the ability to accept one’s present set of circumstances with all the grace and ease possible.  A realization that we need to neither forget nor hold onto the past as it has helped to shape the present yet does not necessarily negate the future.

Each time I spot this man, I am inspired.  Somehow his quiet resilience gives hope to derailed dreams and unmet expectations.  A good running coach drills one unbendable rule  into the head and heart of a runner: “never, never, never look back.”  The man in the red jacket seems to be living by this rule; embracing his present season of life one slow hill at a time.

If you are going through a time of disenchantment, a season of realizing lost dreams and weighty disappointments I pray you will be encouraged by the strength of another.  Take a slow look around, wherever God has placed you, and allow your Maker to show you something that resonates with the person He has made you to be.  Be inspired.  

And remember, you may unwittingly be the person who inspires another.  Just keep moving forward at whatever pace you can muster and never, never, never look back.

Stay the Course…

Sheila

I Am The Problem

Turning the corner on the half-century mark of my life is proving to be quite interesting.

Just as we watch our children grow and mature into the man or woman God created them to become; there comes a time in each one of our lives when we, too, are able to take a look at ourselves through a different lens.

The lens is proving to be painfully honest.

It is mostly in the still of the morning, when I am alone, that I am able to catch a glimpse of the me that I want to be; she is usually wrestling with the me that I am.  

Singing songs of worship, sharing my thoughts, complaints and concerns to my Father—this is how I often start my mornings.  However, it is in the being still and listening that He graciously adjusts the lens of my perspective.  These days I am deeply humbled as He is showing me that perhaps, just maybe, I am the problem.

In the silence He reveals to me that those things in my world which I cannot change are not the problem.

World views, church views, my views; issues that provoke strong emotion within—they are not the problem.

I am the problem when my lack of trust in God or my strong need to be right causes me to raise the flag of self-righteousness as I dig heels deep into the soil of rebellion.  For no necessary reason, other than pride, there lies within me a desire to prove something to someone; even if that someone is just me.  

However, something strange has been happening as of late that is becoming a game changer for this (almost) half-century chic.

I believe that the Spirit within me has proven over the years to be a voice of wisdom and truth, deserving of my full attention.  As I am learning to put my own thoughts and world solutions aside, the Spirit is teaching me that the only One able to bring change does not need my help.  He is in control, I am not.  Instead of believing that there are problems that I must fix; He is teaching me that unless He asks me to do something—I may potentially become part of the problem, not the solution.

The view from my new lens with which I am becoming familiar with has me in awe and wonder.  As I go about my day, I am able to behold His beauty in all that I see and touch.  The need to be seen or heard is diminishing as the desire to simply be in awe of the Creator and His creation has turned my lens upward to behold the Lamb.

I am finding great peace and unexplainable joy in placing my trust in God instead of in my circumstances or in myself.

No need to worry or fret over the view that tomorrow’s lens may bring—I am not in control.  If I am not in control, I am free to become a part of the solution instead of part of the problem.

From time to time when I feel my heart racing and my perspective becomes blurry, I slow myself down. As I intentionally set aside time to withdraw to the place where He is waiting, I kneel before the One who holds the solution to every problem—the One who holds me.

Stay the Course…

Sheila

The Rest of The Story

Most of us have a person from childhood who's influence impacted our lives in one fashion or another.  

Back in the 80’s on my early morning country bus rides to school, I anticipated listening to the legendary commentator voice of Paul Harvey on his radio program, “The Rest of The Story.”

I hung on every inflection of his voice, his storytelling ability always hooked me for the surprising backstory, also known as “the rest of the story” on different persons of interest throughout history.  

Often, people are not who we think they are and situations are not what they might appear to be at first glance.  There is usually a behind the scenes story that, should we have the opportunity to learn, gives us a more clear understanding of the rest of the story.

Jesus, the greatest of all commentators, gives us insights throughout the New Testament of situations that were not what they appeared to be at first glance.  Often, just like today, the root of an issue was hidden from view, buried beneath layers of what appeared to be.  

The rich man who asked Jesus “What must I do to follow you?” was not willing to give up the one thing that had a hold on his heart-his riches.  Jesus saw past what appeared to be straight into the man’s heart.  

The woman caught in adultery was shamed by the crowd, yet when Jesus addressed her accusers asking him who was without sin to cast the first stone, the crowd slowly disappeared.  Jesus knew the backstory of each accuser as well as the heart of the adulteress.  

When we are faced with situations that falsely expose us, it’s easy to want to defend ourselves with our own back story; sometimes to no avail.  Truth is, only the Holy Spirit can reveal truth to a person.  When we attempt to discern truth in our own power and ability—truth may become whatever we are convinced of through the lens we happen to be viewing life from in that moment.  If we have been hurt or wounded, our lens may view truth through the filter of our own pain.  If we are feeling the joys of a mountaintop experience; that lens may become the lens through which we believe others should view truth.

The beauty of our Savior and the example He set for us was one of being able to view life through the lens of His Father at all times regardless the changing lens of circumstance.  He loved those who rejected and betrayed Him as well as those who worshipped Him.  When falsely accused He did not attempt to convince His accusers of His innocence but instead trusted His life, His reputation, and His intentions to His faithful Father.

It has been my prayer to become much more like Jesus and much less like a woman who feels the need to defend herself or the need to judge others as I settle more and more into the truths of God’s Word.  

After all, the Word tells us the rest of the story quite clearly: “All men are like grass, and all their glory is like the flowers of the field.  The grass withers and the flowers fall, because the breath of the Lord blows on them….but the word of our God stands forever.” (Isaiah 40:6-8)

The backstory is this—Jesus came to earth fully man and fully God.  He was tested, tempted and tried in every way, yet was without sin.  He took our shame and sin upon Himself.  He has made us holy and righteous not because of anything we did to deserve redemption but because of His great love for us.  

If you have been falsely accused, your reputation destroyed, betrayed by those you once called friend, abandoned and left for dead; get into God’s Word and find comfort and strength.  Allow Jesus to affirm the truth of Himself to you by the power of the Holy Spirit.  When we stand on the truth of God’s Word, He becomes our avenger.

May His love, mercy and grace continue to transform our lives and may we learn to love one another in spite of ourselves as we strive to bring glory to our King.

Stay the Course…

Sheila

The Great Conqueror is Conquered

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately about life’s purpose and the role of the church and in so doing have been drawn to the Old Testament.

Woven within some of the stories of the men and women who have gone before us are certain commonalities that begin with the choice of whether or not to serve God, whether or not to use the gifts and talents given by God to honor God or to honor self, and whether or not to choose humility with successes brought from God’s hand or to choose pride.

We are given an insider’s view into the heart of various kings such as King Saul who allowed jealousy toward David to trip him up in his pride of wanting to be great.  It’s painful to read the account of his life and to watch his life unravel once his eyes are taken off of God.

This week, however, I have been intrigued with the story of another king, King Nebuchadnezzar- the greatest of the Babylonian kings.  While at home in his palace, contented and prosperous, King Nebuchadnezzar had a dream that made him afraid; the dream downright terrified him.  None of the magicians, enchanters, astrologers and diviners could interpret the dream; so Daniel  was brought before the king.

Daniel interpreted the dream, speaking the truth that God revealed to him about what was about to happen to King Nebuchadnezzar.  King Nebuchadnezzar was compared to a large and strong tree with its top touching the sky, visible to the whole earth, with beautiful leaves and abundant fruit, providing fruit for all, giving shelter to the beasts of the field and having nesting places in its branches for the birds of the air. (Daniel 4:20-21)  “You, O King, are that tree! You have become great and strong, your greatness has grown until it reaches the sky, and your dominion extends to distant parts of the earth.” (vs.22)

Daniel went on to tell King Nebuchadnezzar that the tree was going to be cut down, leaving the stump of the tree with its roots because one day his kingdom would be restored, only after King Nebuchadnezzar acknowledged that Heaven rules.  Until that day, he would be drenched with the dew of heaven, living like a wild animal until seven times passed by for him.

David encouraged the king to renounce his sins that his prosperity might continue.  However, as we continue to read his story we learn that King Nebuchadnezzar did not heed that warning, “Twelve months later, as the king was walking on the roof of the royal palace of Babylon, he said, “Is not this the great Babylon I have built as the royal residence, by my mighty power and for the glory of my majesty?” (vs. 29,30)

“The words were still on his lips when a voice came from heaven, “This is what is decreed for you, King Nebuchadnezzar: Your royal authority has been taken from you.  You will be driven away from people and will live with the wild animals; you will eat grass like cattle. Seven times will pass by for you until you acknowledge that the Most High is sovereign over the kingdoms of men and gives them to anyone he wishes.” (vs. 31, 32)

As I’ve been pondering the severity of God’s punishment toward King Nebuchadnezzar, I find myself looking deeper into the thoughts and motives of my own heart; my own pride.  It’s in there.  The cloak of humility falls swiftly to the dust when I fail to keep my eyes on the One who conquered sin and death for me by laying down His own life.

How many times have I either wittingly or unwittingly over the years thought that my own might and power were the crediting factor for all that might be going right in my life, for the glory of my own majesty?  Pride, I am learning, reveals itself in a vast array of circumstances.  King Nebuchadnezzar, after all, was only a man as human as each one of us.

After living through seven years of insanity, we hear for the first time from a very changed king, “I, Nebuchadnezzar, raised my eyes toward heaven, and my sanity was restored. Then I praised the Most High; I honored and glorified him who lives forever.” (vs. 34)

He goes on to say, “At the same time that my sanity was restored, my honor and splendor were returned to me for the glory of my kingdom.  My advisers and nobles sought me out, and I was restored to my throne and became even greater than before. Now I, Nebuchadnezzar, praise and exalt and glorify the King of heaven, because everything he does is right and all his ways are just. And those who walk in pride he is able to humble.” (vs. 36 & 37)

We are given a clear window into King Nebuchadnezzar’s life to see that uncontrolled pride can be self destructive, as the great conqueror is conquered by his Creator.  We are also able to see that when we humble ourselves before our Creator, He and He alone is able to restore us back to Him.

It is the prayer and desire of this writer that one of the functions of our local churches might be to walk in such closeness with God and with each other that we could help one another on this Christian pilgrimage of revealing God’s greatness and glory to the world.

Instead of choosing pride, we can choose humility as John the Baptist chose when Jesus arrived on the scene.  There was no jealousy, no self promotion, instead John stated that his joy was now complete and that “He must become greater; I must become less.” (John 3:30)

As both local and global churches unite with the goal of revealing God’s greatness and glory to the world, I believe our life’s purpose and our joy will be made complete in Him.

Stay the Course…

Sheila

You Watch. You Wait. You'll See.

A number of years ago as I was driving through town I caught the tail end of a radio interview.  I can’t remember much about the interview other than the part where the interviewee shared that God had spoken to her in regard to her life saying, “You watch. You wait. You’ll see.”

Those six words resonated within my own spirit, so I scribbled them on my checkbook divider as I continued to drive.

Each time I opened my checkbook, those six scribbled words jumped out at me.  I wondered what God was up to and why I still felt the power of the words “You watch. You wait. You’ll see.”

I was certain God was about to reveal something big in my tiny world—and He was!

As I watched and waited on the Lord over the years, areas of my life crumbled that at one time had appeared to be unshakeable.  With each step of obedience to what God spoke to my heart in early morning prayer, He changed the entire landscape of my “familiar.” 

Onlookers would NOT have described what was happening as amazing and yet I kept hearing my Father speak to my fearful heart, “You watch. You wait. You’ll see.”

It has only been in recent weeks that I have been re-reminded of those words as another wave of change crashed into my world.  

This time, though, something feels different. I am able to see my circumstances through a different lens.  In utter desperation to walk the path of His choosing; I have refused to believe that I know what is best for me.

I am watching the world around me with new eyes.  Instead of focusing on temporal circumstances, He is teaching me about what is truly important: people.  I am seeing the narrowness of the path and the ease with which truth can be sprinkled with untruth.  I am watching changes that break my heart as the god of this age is subtly stealing the hearts of God’s children with lies, deception, apathy, disregard for holiness and righteousness, and the list goes on.

I am seeing a lost world fill the void within with anything and everything to temporarily relieve the longing that can only be filled with God.  I know, because sometimes I also fill the void with something tangible in an attempt to diminish the deep aching within.

I have felt both frustration and anger as I cry to my Father, “I’m watching and waiting, but I’m only seeing pain, betrayal and loss!”  However, somewhere along the path, in the process of daily surrendering my will to His will, I am realizing something:  God, in His goodness, longs to strip us of what doesn’t matter, not to punish us but rather as a gift so that He can fill us with the only thing that truly matters-- a deeper revelation of Him.

Although God cares about our circumstances; what matters eternally is the state of our hearts and our souls.  

As we wait upon the Lord, He will renew our strength.  He will fill us with His Spirit and we will soar on wings like eagles.  We will run and not grow weary. (Isaiah 40:31)  We are like a city on a hill; we cannot be hidden. (Matthew 5:14).  We are His mighty warriors; not those who shrink back and are destroyed but those who believe and are saved. (Hebrews 10::39)   

Nothing and no one can thwart His plan for our lives.(Isaiah 14:27)

You watch. You wait. You’ll see. 

Stay the Course…

Sheila

A Horse Named Courage

There once was an old horse named Courage.

Courage stood quietly in the pasture as the strong autumn wind played with her well-worn mane.

No one paid her much mind as she buried her nose into the bale of hay.  This had not always been the case—back in the day, Courage had been the object of great attention due to her strong, fast legs and her unmatched tenacity to be the first horse in on race day.

Young and determined, she had spent countless hours with her trainer learning everything necessary to make sure that the dust from the track was far behind her.

Remembering the anticipation of standing at the start gates just before the chutes flung open, signaling the start to the race, brought a surge of adrenaline to the old horse.  Courage was known for racing with the splendor and confidence of a horse who knew she was prepared to win.

The early days were a blur as she took in all the experiences of a winner.  She was well groomed, well fed, well known and well loved.  

But as time has a way of doing, the years eventually took their toll on Courage.  At first the recovery times between races were sufficient.  Small injuries would mend quickly and Courage would once again be off to the races.  Life, however, has a way of throwing curve balls, and Courage received more than her share of set backs. 

With every set back, Courage dug deep into the resolve of her spirit, searching for strength to make one more lap around the track.  

Eventually life’s brutality can leave its mark on even the most tenacious of creatures, even a horse named Courage.

What Courage had to give was no longer enough.  

Expectations placed upon her led only to disappointments.  Then one day, like silence in the still of night, Courage slipped quietly into the back pasture where she was quickly forgotten.

From time to time young race horses would graze in the pasture next to Courage.  They were young and naive as she had once been.  They did not care to hear of the days of past, of the stories that were locked within the heart of Courage.  Too caught up were they in their own moments of fleeting glory.  

Courage stood quietly in the pasture as the strong autumn wind played with her well-worn mane.

There once was an old horse named Courage.

Stay the Course...

Sheila