In the Silence

I was taking a few quiet moments while it was still dark and everyone else was still in their beds to quiet my own heart. I’ve been trying to learn to practice the discipline of silence…I set the timer on my phone for 5 minutes (because that’s pretty much all the SILENCE I have the capacity to cultivate right now!) and I practice silence. Outside and inside. Phew. It’s a little odd and a little hard. Especially internal silence. There are all these words and thoughts and distractions running around in my mind. But my purpose of adding the practice of silence to my quiet moments with God is to realize just how busy and frantic and distracted I can typically get…and to cultivate a place where I simply am with God, with no agenda. Just quiet. Just acknowledging Him. Not thinking any great theological thought or solving my problems. Just with Him. And I have to tell you, it is SO good for me in this season.

So, if you’re like me, and your internal world is sometimes busy and loud, and your pace is often fast and sometimes full of distractions, I’d invite you to try the discipline of silence with me. It takes a little bit of work, but it is so rewarding, because it carved out a precious space of learning to sit with God.

Here’s what I do.

I make sure I’ll be practicing silence at a time where I’ll also have the gift of solitude. If I’m not alone, this kind of silence is almost unattainable. I set my timer for 5 minutes. I sit in a comfy chair…and I lay my hands open on my lap. I close my eyes and I quietly pray the verse over my soul, ‘Release your grip, and know that He is God.’

Then I just breathe. And as I breathe, I receive the breaths as a gift from God- each breath His affirmation of my life. His affirmation of my existence, my being alive right here, right now, in this day and time and place. I rest in the awhile.

I push out any distractions that try to come into my mind- either external noises or reminders of things to do, or internal thoughts or imaginations of what I should be thinking or feeling…and I just sit, I just breathe, receiving the ‘being with God-ness’ that I’m learning to recognize in those moments.

Then, after awhile, I have a phrase I pray. It helps me ask God for what I really want. I pray ‘Holy Spirit, commune with me, a sinner.’ Each of those phrases are meaningful to me. ‘Holy Spirit’ is meaningful to me because it reminds me that God already, because of Jesus’ sacrifice, has chosen to take up residence INSIDE of me. ‘Commune with me’ is meaningful to me because that’s what I truly long for- relationship with my Creator. I want the gift of Himself…which I could never deserve. And when I end with ‘a sinner,’ I love remembering how unholy I am on my own, how unworthy I am of the presence of God. But in His infinite mercy, He has chosen to come close to ME. A sinner.

Around that time, my timer goes off. I open my eyes…and that’s it! I’ll spend time with God in other ways, but this silence component is just so special to me in these days. I’d invite you to check it out with me, and see what happens.

The Sacred Mundane

At home, my husband Joel and I have been trying to actively teach one of my daughters what it means to be grateful. There is usually part of each day that involves her inquiring about what exciting thing we will be doing that day or what treats she will be having, followed by a lot of huffiness if the answer is not to her liking. To be fair, we as a family do try to enjoy each other’s company and daddy’s time off by going on what we call family dates. They most often aren’t elaborate. We end up sitting in coffee shops a lot to color or playing at the mall play place for free. However, we do this about once a week, so they have come to look forward to it and expect it. So on the other six days when my daughter’s questions are met with the ordinary happenings planned for the day she has taken to big sighs and saying, “Is that all?”  

I hear you, baby. I can commiserate with the child, having asked this question in life more than a few times myself. Is it an issue with gratitude? Sure. Sometimes. However, I think something I am struck by that goes deeper than that is our view of the ordinary and mundane. I can think of big times in my life where my sighs before God of “Is that all?” were just as dramatic as my preschooler’s. When I came home from college and it took a while to find a job, only to end up working at a restaurant for some time to pay the loans that were coming up for repayment, I asked the question, “Is this it? I thought there would be something more exciting awaiting me in this transition.” I am a stay at home mom, and after having my second daughter my husband worked a lot. She was a few months old, my oldest daughter was only a year and a half and it was winter. I was at home feeling lonely while trying to figure out how to juggle two under two years old. There were times during that season that I was confronted by the challenges and ordinariness of my long days, and I asked the same question.

In my questioning I have come to realize as I have unpacked those seasons and similar more recent ones that there has been a recurring theme. My asking, “Is this all?” or wondering, “That’s it?” stems from a working view that life is a big exciting adventure and I am missing out, or everyone else is doing big things for God and I’m not. Life happens “out there somewhere” and there must be something I’m missing if I am only experiencing the mundane. God is out there, and I am here cleaning boogies. Right? Wrong!

God is in the mundane! He is alive and moving and just as much a part of my wiping noses as He is with those doing formal ministry. He is not absent but He “…gently leads those that are with young” (Isaiah 40:11). He does not view children as a hindrance to His “greater work” but says, “Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 19:14). He doesn’t need me to make big, showy sacrifices or assume that He wants me to be doing more than what He asks. Samuel rebukes Saul for that very thing because he disobeyed the Lord, trying to do for Him what wasn’t required. Samuel replies, “Does the Lord delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices as much as obeying the Lord?” (1 Samuel 15:22) Yikes.

There is something about God’s presence in the mundane and ordinary that feels mysterious because there is a sense that though He is there to draw close, it can be easy for us to miss or overlook Him. We serve a dynamic God who is equally gentle as He is powerful. He whispers to Elijah on Mt. Horeb after an earthquake, wind and fire preceded him (1 Kings 19:11-13). He is also a God who shows big and glorious manifestations of His presence for all to see, as well as hidden ones to individuals. He appeared to Mary to tell her she would have God’s son. He took what might have been an ordinary point of her day and made it holy with His presence.    

All is for His glory. The presence of Jesus, Emmanuel, has made the mundane sacred, and by that awareness I am changed. There are exciting and miraculous things happening right in front of me. I am not missing out. In this week before Christmas may we be reminded of the nearness of God and have eyes to see His work in the bustle and busy, in stillness and quiet, in work and rest because He is as close as the reach of our hand.

Jehovah Jireh

This fall my family and I have experienced some very unsettling changes in the area of finances. We lost 75% of my income over the span of a weekend due to unexpected and immediate layoffs at one of my jobs. As you can imagine, this set off a frenzied reaction in me where I began searching for anything and everything that I could do to fill this hole in our income. I interviewed for many jobs…even ones that I knew would be unwise choices for our family. I began taking on side jobs that consumed most of my time and ended in frustration for both me and my family with very little monetary gain in the end.

I remember about a month after being laid off I woke up with an old song in my head “Jehovah Jireh, my provider, His grace is sufficient for me…”. I hadn’t heard this song in well over 15 years, and I knew it was a reminder from God that He is Jehovah Jireh (the LORD will provide), and that He would provide my needs and the needs of my family. Oh, how short-sighted I was though. I became so laser-beam focused on my request for God to provide in the area of my finances that I almost missed out on His real provision for me and my family.

While God has sustained our family in the area of finances and has shown provision in specific areas of our finances…our financial state remains more or less the same. I no longer feel desperate though. I’m no longer trying to fit square pegs in round holes. I’m able to rest in knowing God is providing and will provide. However, His provision in answer to my prayer looked NOTHING like what I was focusing on, and I’m so glad for that.

While I was waiting on God to “fix this money conundrum”, He began to give me precious glimpses of what He was really providing for me and my family. He began to greatly increase my desire for Him and my ability to walk in obedience to Him. He began to overwhelm me with His affections for me. He began to answer long standing prayers in my marriage and in my family. I began to see their hearts being turned more fully toward Him. He gave my soul the ability to rest and trust and know the goodness of God in all circumstances.

As we moved into the Advent season, I continued to think about God’s provision in sending Jesus to a broken earth and a presumptuous people. I’ve been thinking about and relating to the Israelites who believed that the Messiah was indeed coming. They knew the prophecies, they believed them! They were certain that He was coming to end their slavery, to end their suffering as a people group. He was coming to redeem them and make right all of the wrongs done at the hands of their oppressors. They believed their Messiah would be born into a position of power, one that would overthrow Roman rule, return them to a nation of their own. They believed they would have a Messiah who ruled from David’s throne! They believed these things would come to pass, but the way in which their Messiah would provide proved to be very different from their presumptions. They wanted a military leader, an earthly king, someone born into authority and influence….they most certainly were not expecting a baby born to a poor, young virgin.

Many who awaited the Messiah were so consumed by their version of what provision would look like that they missed the Messiah completely.

May we recognize God’s provision in the arrival of our Messiah on that first Christmas, in the gift of His manifest presence and in the grace of glimpses into His goodness and sovereignty while we await His return.

Merry Christmas!

—Lindsay Thompson

Any Room?

I wish I could take credit for this story.

I wish I could give credit for this story.

I heard it somewhere, sometime, but I honestly don’t remember where or when. I was delighted to discover a version of it on Google. Somebody else loves it as much as I do; but they, too, don’t know where it came from.

I think of it every year at Christmas. I wonder if, now, you will too.

The Story of Wally                                                                     

Once there was a little boy who was involved in a Christmas play at church. His name was Wally. Wally was big for his age—seven years old. He was very friendly and quite excitable; everyone liked him. Wally was a slow learner. Wally’s family had only been coming to the church since summer, but now that the annual Christmas play was coming, everyone wondered what role the teacher would give him. He was on pins and needles as the teacher announced who would play each part. The rest of the Sunday School children thought, “He’s too big to be a sheep because they give that role to the little kids. Perhaps he could pull the curtain or light the lights.”

The director went down the list. Tommy would play Joseph. Clark, Jenny and Peter would be the Heavenly Host. Mary would, of course, be Mary. And then, to everyone’s surprise, the teacher gave Wally the role of the innkeeper. Wally was delighted. He even had a speaking part! All he had to learn was one line: “There is no room in the inn.” He practiced it every day before the big night. Even on the way to school he would repeat, “There is no room in the inn. There is no room in the inn.”

Then came the night of the Christmas program. The parents and grandparents took their places. Every seat was filled. The children entered singing “O Come All Ye Faithful.” The lights dimmed. A hush moved over the audience. The curtain opened. Mary and Joseph entered the stage and walked up to the large wooden door that was to represent the inn. They knocked on the door and Wally came out, dressed as the most perfect innkeeper you have ever seen.

In a loud, confident voice, Joseph looked at Wally and said, “Please sir, my wife is not well. Could we have a room for the night?”

Wally was ready for his line. He had rehearsed it for days. He began loudly, “There is…” and he hesitated. He started over again a little quieter. “There is…” and again his mind went completely blank. His cheeks flushed red. His heart began to pound. Sweat began to form on his brow. Everyone in the auditorium was absolutely silent, feeling a little embarrassed for poor Wally who just didn’t know what to do. Wally’s mom tried to mouth the words to him, but his eyes were fixed on the brilliant stage lights.

After a few uncomfortable moments, Joseph thought he would improvise and started walking away toward where the stable was set up on stage left. Wally looked at Joseph and seeing him walking away, in desperation called out: “Hey, there’s no room in the inn… but there is lots of room at my house. Why don’t you just come home with me!”

Isn’t that a precious yet thought provoking twist to our traditional Christmas story? I think that Wally was really on to something.

And I hope I am too.

I love the hustle and bustle of Christmas. I love the decorations, the carols, the cookies, the lights, the gatherings, the gifts…I am no Grinch or Scrooge by a long shot.

But what I love most is reflecting on and celebrating the extravagant love of my Father and the incomprehensible humility of His dear Son, Jesus, who “leaves the splendor of glory to come to a shattered earth to suffer and die for self-oriented rebels. The Messiah is not born in a palace but in a stable. He lives his life as a pilgrim denied a small luxury even animals enjoy—a home. He is despised and rejected, then subjected to a bloody and painful pubic crucifixion. And he does it all intentionally and willingly so that those rebels will be forgiven, so that those separated from God will have a home with him forever, and so that grace will be supplied to people in desperate need of it.” (Paul Tripp)

Few made room for Him then; few make room for Him now.

But I must. How can I not? How can He not be central to all I celebrate and enjoy?

After all, trite, maybe, but true: He IS the reason for the season.

And, like Wally, there’s room at my house. I want Him home in my heart—and not just at Christmas.

I hope you do too.

Thou didst leave Thy throne and Thy kingly crown,

When Thou camest to earth for me;

But in Bethlehem’s home was there found no room

For Thy holy nativity.

Heaven’s arches rang when the angels sang

Proclaiming Thy royal degree;

But of lowly birth didst Thou come to earth,

And in great humility.

 The foxes found rest and the birds their nest

 In the shade of the forest tree;

But Thy couch was the sod, O Thou Son of God,

 In the deserts of Galilee.

 Thou camest, O Lord, with the living Word

 That should set Thy people free;

 But with mocking scorn and with crown of thorn,

 They bore Thee to Calvary.

When the heav’ns shall ring and her choirs shall sing,

At Thy coming to victory,

Let Thy voice call me home, saying “Yet there is room,

 There is room at My side for thee.”

O Come to my heart, Lord Jesus,

There is room in my heart for Thee.

—Eileen Hill