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What should our prayer focus be this month?

I asked Jeff this question, my fingers poised on my laptop, waiting for his response. Often, he doesn’t have strong opinions on things, but this time he had a clear answer right away:

Guidance.

Ah, yes. Guidance. We sent out the emailing inviting folks from our church family to gather and seek God together for guidance. And we let people know that if they were facing a situation where they needed God’s guidance, His direction, to let us know and we’d pray for them.

The very next morning, I was struck by the day’s Bible reading:

“Ah, stubborn children,” declares the LORD, who carry out a plan, but not mine, and who make an alliance, but not of my Spirit, that they may add sin to sin; who set out to go down to Egypt, without asking for my direction, to take refuge in the protection of Pharaoh and to seek shelter in the shadow of Egypt! … Woe to those who go down to Egypt for help and rely on horses, who trust in chariots because they are many and in horsemen because they are very strong, but do not look to the Holy One of Israel or consult the LORD! … The Egyptians are man and not God, and their horses are flesh, and not spirit.

—Isaiah 30:1-2, 31:1

In various places in those chapters it repeats again and again, Wait on the LORD. Rather than waiting on Him, they rushed ahead and took refuge in Egypt, making their own plan, trusting in what they could see instead of their God. What a warning!

This resonated deeply with me, as I had already sensed God saying to wait on Him. As I prayed through this, I kept seeing a picture of the Israelites, beside the Red Sea. God deliberately leads them into an impossible place:

“Then the LORD said to Moses, ‘Tell the people of Israel to turn back and encamp in front of Pi-hahiroth, between Migdol and the sea, in front of Baal-zephon; you shall encamp facing it, by the sea”

—Exodus 14:1-2

And in this impossible place, they wait. And we all know the story. Deliverance!

So we all resonate on one level with feeling like we’re stuck, or facing some impossible situation, and we don’t know what to do. So of course it’s easy for us to pray together in agreement!

But then … is it?

As I contemplated us all praying together, I have to admit, I had a bit of trepidation:

How do we all agree in prayer if we don’t all agree in person?

I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there are a few varying perspectives on things these days. 😉 I am grateful that in our church family we have a very diverse mix of perspectives and viewpoints. While it has created a challenging past 18 months, I’m now honestly at a place where I’m grateful. I have learned a lot from people who see things differently.

But prayer can be tricky. It’s intensely personal. I remember nearly a decade ago, a gal left our church because she said our theological disagreement related to healing made it so we couldn’t pray in agreement together. I totally respect her perspective on that, and can understand how she felt. I blessed her as she found another church home.

But right now it seems there are many issues on which faithful believers disagree. At our house church recently, I sort of held my breath as we gathered in prayer, realizing that what some would see as a praise, others might see as terrible news, and vice versa.

And yet … as I sat there and watched I saw a beautiful thing unfold.

Genuine love. Unity. Comeraderie. Spirit-filled, agreement in prayer.

One person’s prayer request, I knew, ran counter to what some others would perceive as good. And yet, the others genuinely empathized, and lifted up heartfelt prayer. And it wasn’t shallow or fake, and also wasn’t what I call “yanking prayer” where we say a prayer but we’re really trying to yank the direction or focus over into what we believe is right. (Jeff jokes that pastors are great at this, “Lord, what my brother really means is that …”)

There was no yanking prayer!

I went to women’s Bible study, same thing — no yanking prayer!

We had our prayer meeting praying for direction — no yanking prayer!

And later, there was a remarkable answer to prayer, that even though one person’s perspective was perhaps different than some others, there was no doubt that God has come through in mighty ways on their behalf, and we can all rejoice over that! God knows the needs of His people!

Maybe what frees us from yanking prayer is the knowledge that God is big enough to handle all this. (FWIW: Certainly there is a place for loving confrontation, challenging people or appealing to them if we think they are in dangerous error or going astray. But group-prayer is not the place to do this.)

Here’s what I noticed: When we pray God’s Word, it’s usually not hard to be in agreement, even if we don’t agree on every current issue. If I’m lifting up a sister, regardless of whether I agree with her or not,

:: I can pray that she will be submitted to Christ in every area of life.

:: I can pray that she will know the truth.

:: I can pray that she will hear God’s voice clearly, and that God will direct her steps.

:: I can pray she will obey the Word of God and find light for her path.

:: I can pray that she will be free from fear and anxiety.

:: I can pray that she will love her neighbor as herself.

:: I can pray for God’s grace to be sufficient in her weakness.

:: I can pray she will be patient and long-suffering.

:: I can pray she will unwavering in her faith.

:: I can pray that God will provide everything she needs for life and godliness.

:: I can pray that she will open her mouth and proclaim to the good news of the gospel.

:: I can pray that as she seeks God’s kingdom first that all the things will be added to her.

:: I can pray for courage, wisdom, clarity.

:: Just as I pray for myself, I can pray she will kept from any error or deception.

:: I can pray she will have strength to resist temptation.

:: I can pray that her mind will be set on what is excellent, virtuous, and praiseworthy.

….I mean we could go on and on, right? When are are truly for people, we really won’t have a hard time thinking of lots and lots and lots and lots of great things to pray for them!

The challenge, at least for me, is when I’m overly devoted to my own perspective, I have a hard time setting it aside long enough to just pray God’s good Word over someone.

But I’m learning. I’m so incredibly grateful for my community where I get to witness godly men and women agree in prayer, even if we don’t agree on every issue. Lord, let your Kingdom come!

Next month I get to co-facilitate the Women’s Ministry Roundtable sessions at the Harbor Network Leaders’ Summit in Louisville, Kentucky. Praying and preparing for this has had me thinking back through the 20 years I’ve been leading women in various ministry roles (Oh to go back and handle some things differently!), and also looking forward and seeking a renewed vision for the small group of precious women I help serve in our local church at Renew. Tonight, we’re gathering for one last summer hurrah around the fire-pit before the rains come and we’re all completely immersed in fall activities.

This summer has been a tremendously healing time for me, especially the last month. During late August, Jeff caught a bad cold, and so he took a Covid test and we all quarantined just to be safe. He tested negative, and he felt better within a few days, but because of the lag-time for testing and results, we ended up quarantining for six days.

It was glorious. No, that’s too weak of a word. It was life-changing. Even though we observe Sabbath every week, this girl needed a weeklong Sabbath and that’s exactly what I got. I actually extended it to 8 days just because I could. 😉

During those 8 days I still had four kids and a husband, I still had meals to cook and a house to clean. But there was time, stillness, hours and hours to sit by the creek, or lie on the couch and read Dune so I could converse with my Dune-obsessed son. Nerd that I am, I indulged in the incredibly satisfying activity of organizing all our books, cleaning closets, inventorying pantries. It was THE BEST.

But during those quiet days God was able to rewire some things in my heart and mind.

Right after that, I read The Visitation. Our son Dutch had been hounding Jeff and me for awhile, “You guys GOTTA read this book. Just read it!” He’d pick it up and put it on my lap if he saw me doing nothing. I had just finished Dune‘s 620 pages and I wasn’t quite ready to pick up the hefty Visitation comin’ in at 519 pages. Who has time for this?

One chapter in I knew exactly why he wanted us to read it. Without spoiling anything, the main character is a 45-year old pastor who quit the ministry because of all the heartache and pain he experienced. I would read and re-read paragraphs thinking, “That’s exactly how I feel.” The book explores some of the ways we inadvertently put expectations on God, how we mis-direct our hope, how we get so caught up in the “stuff” of church that we miss the goodness of God. It’s so, so good.

What does this have to do with vision for women’s ministry?

In The Visitation, part of the healing process for the pastor was when someone prompted him, “Give me some names.” He’s confused, asks for clarification, and the friend says, “Who are some of the people you’ve seen God work in and through.” He begins telling stories. Nothing spectacular. But they are evidences of grace. You can clearly see the goodness and power and mercy of God has he recounts simple stories of ordinary people.

Not events. Not spectacular experiences. Not “success.”

Through people. Like, ones with names.

Also this summer, I stumbled upon a tiny book (hooray for SHORT books) coming in at less than 100 pages. Eugene Peterson’s The Wisdom of Each Other. Wow. So, so good. And that is where the vision became clear, where all the loose ends of this year wove together to make a picture of what God invites us into as his children:

Friends.

My grand vision for women’s ministry in 2021: That we would be FRIENDS.

“No longer do I call you servants … but I have called you friends.”

-Jesus (John 15:15)

Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.

-Jesus (John 15:13)

Friends of God. Friends of each other.

That’s my vision. That’s my hope. In Peterson’s book, he highlights the importance of these spiritual friendships:

I was in a conversation recently with a group of friends and mentioned a chance encounter with an odd stranger in which I thought I had heard echoes of the Gospel. It had moved me deeply. One of my friends interrupted, “That sounds good, but I’d like a text for it. Where does the Bible actually say that?” I couldn’t come up with a text on the spot. Conversation stopped. A prayerful conversation was trashed because I was not conducting my part in it with the documentation proper to a Bible study leader.

This happens a lot. And so an entire world of “counsel” between friends is eliminated. Spiritual counsel, easy prayerful conversation between companions engaged in a common task, is less and less frequent. But when Jesus designated his disciples “friends” in that last extended conversation he had with them, he introduced a term that encouraged the continuing of the conversation. “Friend” sets us in a nonhierarchical, open, informal, spontaneous company of Jesus-friends, who verbally develop relationships of responsibility and intimacy by means of conversation. Characteristically, we do not make pronouncements to one another or look up texts by which to challenge one another; we simply talk out whatever feelings or thoughts are in our hearts as Jesus’ friends.

Often today we speak of wanting to see a Spiritual Director, or be Discipled in a formal setting. But as I’ve written about before, the most impactful kind of discipleship or spiritual-direction relationship I have ever experienced was with a women who insisted that we simply be “friends.”

Peterson’s book takes the form of a series of letters between friends. As he responds to his friend, he writes:

You seem disappointed that I am not more responsive to your interest in “spiritual direction.” Actually, I am more than a little ambivalent about the term, particularly in the ways it is being used so loosely without any sense or knowledge of the church’s traditions in these matters.

If by spiritual direction you mean the entering into a friendship with another person in which an awareness and responsiveness to God’s Spirit in the everydayness of your life is cultivated, fine. But then why haul in an awkward term like “spiritual direction”? Why not just “friend”?

Spiritual direction strikes me as pretentious in these circumstances, as if there were some expertise that can be acquired more or less on its own and then dispensed on demand.

The other reason for my lack of enthusiasm is my well-founded fear of professionalism in any and all matters of the Christian life….

Instead, why don’t you look over the congregation on Sundays and pick someone who appears to be mature and congenial. Ask her or him if you can meet together every month or so–you feel the need to talk about your life in the company of someone who believes that Jesus is present and active in everything you are doing. Reassure the person that he or she doesn’t have to say anything “wise.” You only want them to be there for you to listen and be prayerful in the listening. …

I’ve had a number of men and women who have served me this way over the years … when I moved to Canada a few years ago and had to leave a long-term relationship of this sort, I looked around for someone whom I could be with in this way. I picked a man whom I knew to be a person of integrity and prayer, with seasoned Christian wisdom in his bones. I anticipated he would disqualify himself so I pre-composed my rebuttal: “All I want you to do is two things: show up and shut up. Can you do that? Meet with me every six weeks or so, and just be there–an honest, prayerful presence with no responsibility to be anything other than what you have become in your obedient lifetime.” And it worked. If that is what you mean by “spiritual director,” okay. But I still prefer “friend.”

You can see now from my comments that my gut feeling is that the most mature and reliable Christian guidance and understanding comes out of the most immediate and local settings. The ordinary way. We have to break this cultural habit of sending out for an expert every time we feel we need some assistance. Wisdom is not a matter of expertise.”

I honestly believe that what this world needs most is simple and twofold: Friendship with God, and friendship with each other. First and foremost, we need to be reconciled with our Creator-Savior and enter into a living, abiding friendship with Him. And then, we need friendship with each other. That’s my prayer for this year.

I remember my freshman year of college, when I first started really following Jesus — I remember missing my old boyfriend, and keenly feeling that aching torn-between-two worlds feeling. I wanted Jesus more than anything. But there were days I looked wistfully at my old life.

Now, 23 years later, I can see how silly it was to long for what was gone because God had so much more in store for me. There’s no comparison. Life has had pain, for sure, but also blessings beyond what I could have then imagined.

A couple years ago I wrote a song. I have written exactly one song in my life, and this is it. 😉 I wrote it before any of our latest global adventures began. It’s called The Narrow Road. The verses go like this:

Lord, here’s my heart. Divided and Torn. Part wanting my way, part wanting yours. Make it undivided. Make it whole again. Lead me down the narrow road.

There is a wide way that seems right to man, but it leads straight to death, again and again. It’s your kindness, I know, that turns me around, to go down the narrow road.

My flesh hates restrictions, hates feeling bound, but I know your commands, Lord, are where freedom’s found. I submit to your plan, I relinquish my rights, I’ll go down the narrow road.

Put my hand to the plow, and I’ll look straight ahead; Remember Lot’s wife, let dead bury dead. ‘Cause your promise is sure, and nothing compares, I’ll go down the narrow road.

All this world offers, I’ll count it as loss. Deny’s self’s demands, and take up my cross. ‘Cause your way leads to life, abundant and true, I’ll go down the narrow road.

Then on that day, when I reach journey’s end, I’ll meet with my Maker, my Savior, my Friend. He’s the way, truth, the life, He’s the only Door, to joy in its fullness, pleasure evermore.

The chorus goes:

I look wistfully at the road that is wide, then I remember why my Savior died. And the life I now live, is Christ crucified, I’ll go down the narrow road.

I had forgotten all about this song, until today when I was reading John Piper’s words today:

One of the great temptations to keep us from fulfilling what Jesus calls us to to do is that we grow weary in the battle and look back on how easy life was before we started to follow him. Strive to enter through the narrow door means, fight for perseverence. … In other words, one of the factors that makes the door to the Kingdom of God narrow is that striving to enter must last to the end. Therefore, Jesus warns us against nostalgia for the former days of worldliness. He says that the stress of the last days of this age will tempt people to look back. So with stark simplicity he warns, “Remember Lot’s wife” (Luke 17:32) … Striving to enter through the narrow door means taking heed to the warning of Jesus: “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God” (Luke 9:62).

What Jesus Demands From the World, P. 177

This pandemic has left many of us wondering, “What does it mean to ‘go back’?” I don’t think we can go back. Because the world is different. We are different. And God is doing His thing, as always, and invites us in, but there is always this temptation to look wistfully at “the old days.”

When the days drew near for him to be taken up, [Jesus] set his face to go to Jerusalem.

Luke 9:51

This week we remember Jesus’ movement toward the cross. As the days drew near, he “set his face” in the right direction. No reminiscing about wine at weddings. No wistful remembrance of the “good ol’ days.” No bitterness that his once-friend Judas was about to betray him.

He set his face.

Lord, set ours.

Teaching multiple ages at once is hard. 

This is one of the most common homeschool complaints I hear (usually from myself!).  The struggle is real: We’ll have a 14-year age span between the oldest and youngest of our children when our next son is born this fall.

Currently, one son is learning to shave while the other is learning to keep his hands out of his poopy diaper. We also share our home with another homeschooling family, so the total age-range of kids educated on these premises will be 18 years.

I also have (wonderful!) aging parents, including a disabled mom, with whom we spend much of our time (there will be an almost 79-year-old age difference between my dad and my youngest son). Our 11-year-old daughter regularly feeds my mom, cleans her hands and fingernails, brushes her hair, and reads aloud to her.

I mention these dynamics simply because they have shaped my perspective on age segregation, and convinced me that although learning (and living!) with a wide age-range has its challenges, it offers priceless benefits that simply aren’t available in a sea of same-aged students.

While I won’t hit on the how during this article, I want to convince you the work is worth it! A few of the great benefits include: {Read the rest over at Simple Homeschool

For my 40th birthday I gave myself a gift: 40 days off social media. In not one, not two, but three books I recently read (Deep Work, Them, and The Common Rule) the authors recommended social media breaks of various lengths, all for different reasons–mostly spiritual, emotional, and mental health.

But the one that stood out to me the most was from a non-religious book called Deep Work, which asserts that distraction has a crippling effect on important, creative, deep, thoughtful work (and, I’d say, relationships). The author believes we must work to increase our ability to give focused attention, at-length, to projects and people. (It’s interesting to me that Charlotte Mason lists this as the most important trait to teach young children.)

He writes, “Don’t formally deactivate these services, and (this is important) don’t mention online that you’ll be signing off: Just stop using them… After 30 days, ask yourself the following two questions about each service you temporarily quit:

• Would the last 30 days have been notably better if I had been able to use this service?
• Did people care that I wasn’t using this service?

If your answer is “no” to both questions, quit the service permanently.”

So I did this, but stretched it to 40 days. Here’s what stood out to me:

1. I was much more emotionally stable for my family. I realized that often I can be short or taxed or moody with my family not because of anything they’ve done, but because of some post or comment or news opinion item (not the news event itself but the commentary on the new event) has frustrated or saddened or irked me.
2. I was more present for the people in front of me. I can easily live in my head. I’m always thinking, considering, debating, having conversations in my head. A quick hop on social media can easily send me into rabbit-trail of thoughts that are a world away from the actual people I’m facing and serving in that moment.
3. I was on my phone WAY less. This is probably obvious, but with no social media apps there isn’t a whole lot to do on one’s phone. It also just happened that on my bday (when I began) my phone quit taking a charge from all cables except one, and the battery-life dwindled drastically. So basically my phone has to stay plugged in, and when I’m out and about I turn it off.
4. I felt more clarity in how to thoughtfully respond to events rather than emotionally react out of guilt or anger. This was probably the biggest benefit for me. The challenge for me with social media isn’t that I compare my life with others, or waste time, or play games or get jealous. For me, the challenge on social media is that it feels like there is ALWAYS something to be outraged about. So. Many. Causes. So. Much. Anger. I recently heard someone describe themselves as a “bleeding heart conservative” and I had to laugh. I feel like that! I feel (deeply!) the need to respond to every injustice and and then my pride gets mixed in too and I don’t want to be seen as uncaring, so I want to somehow show my care or attention to some issue, but the problem is–on social media we tend to equate “action” with “posting something immediately.” Never mind that this issue (whatever it is) has probably been around for years or decades (or all of human history) if you don’t post exactly the right thing RIGHT NOW then you clearly aren’t a real Christian. What’s interesting, of course, is that research shows that posting about some cause on social media actually makes you LESS likely to do something about it. Probably because the post somehow satisfies our “need to do something” urge. We get the monkey off our back without having to lift a literal finger–thumbs and hashtags are all it takes! Of course I’m not saying that people who post on social media don’t actually do things–not at all! But for me, I found that without the social media “option” for action, I was much more inclined to pray, research, ask God for direction, and DO SOMETHING.
5. I was able to love people in person more easily, without their recent posts flashing through mind. I was recently telling my sister-in-law that in person I’ve never really met someone I didn’t like. I mean, there are some not-favorites 😉 but for the most part, when I meet people in person, I like them. Even the ones who are different, who think different, vote different, look different. But when I read someone’s inflammatory or emotionally-charged rant on Facebook, that’s what stands out in my mind and it’s like an invisible barrier to being able to just love that person. Sure, sometimes people say things to my face that are hard or hurtful, but that’s real life. There’s grace aplenty to process that. But online, people say different things than they would in person, so when I also have to factor in all the sound-bytes and snippets and political posts and hashtags and article links and rants…it’s just a lot for my poor brain to overcome when I’m trying to just love and listen to and understand the person right in front of me.

Did I miss anything? I’ll be completely honest: What I missed was sharing funny things about my kids or cute photos of Justice. And that’s what their grandparents missed too. In fact, it was interesting to me that no one noticed I was off social media except my dad. Not a single person asked me where I’d been. So my absence was not a big loss for the world! (Also, I still read and responded to messages via Messenger and in three closed groups, as I need to be present there as well.)

Oh, one last thing: I narrowed down my news intake to one Daily Digest. I receive one daily email with 6-8 headlines (World, US, Politics, Church, Opinion, etc.). I can scan quickly and look more into stories I feel need more attention. The articles are thoughtful, from a Christian perspective (rather than a certain political party), and seem balanced and gracious. I feel informed not inflamed. 🙂

Going forward, I won’t be deleting my FB or IG accounts (I can’t deprive the world of Justice’s cuteness much longer!), but I’ll be continuing to enjoy them on a limited basis. (These posts automatically go to FB) AND, one fun outcome of all this: We’re starting a podcast! More details to come, but I’m super excited to be able to share more via voice and discussion, along with writing. If you want to be sure to catch the podcast and blog posts, please subscribe over in the orange box to the right (that way you don’t have to rely on social media to see stuff!)

More soon. Thanks so much for reading.

Just now I glanced at my email inbox and saw seven GoogleDoc invitations from my children over the last few weeks, and marveled at how opportunities to influence look so different in different seasons, and they’re still so easy to miss…

More than six years ago, I reflected on how we win our children’s hearts through entering in to their imaginative play. That simple truth has come to mind dozens of times since then, and I’m so grateful I sailed toy ships, sat in playhouses, and sipped imaginary tea.

Life is very different now–there is still play, of course, but there’s no more imaginary tea or battleships in the bathtub. Now, that entering in comes in different forms:

Invitation to view. Invitation to comment. Invitation to edit.

These days, my kids spend quite a bit of time on computers, and I’m okay with that. They sit perched at our kitchen counter, and work on their various creative projects. Heidi is writing her second book, Dutch works on his blog, creates battle scenarios, researches various topics, and they both enjoy creating quizzes using Googleforms. Each one reflects their interests and passions, each one reveals a little of his or her heart.

All creative work is ultimately the sharing of oneself.

And it is a gift and privilege, I now see, that they want to share these works with me.

Just as they wanted to share imaginary tea six years ago.

And, just as six years ago, if I’m not mindful it’s easy for me to completely miss this opportunity. Honestly, I have so much to do (hello, toddler!) and I’m so tired (hello, pregnancy!) that it’s a gift that they spend so much time on their various (quiet) creative endeavors. It’s easy to just be glad they’re occupied and tiptoe off for a moment alone.

But then I check my email and I see:

Invitation to view. Invitation to comment. Invitation to edit.

I’ve always wanted to work to win my children’s hearts. I’ve always wanted to work so that when teens years come, they invite me in. The years of controlling are quickly coming to an end. The years of influence are here.

(Parental-control isn’t bad, by the way, during the little years, but always for the purpose of teaching and equipping them to exhibit self-control as they grow. I’m most certainly still in the control stage with Justice!)

And in these years of influence, the invitations are subtle, but still there.

They are inviting us to view: Let’s seize the chance to look into their hearts.

They are inviting us to comment: Let’s wisely comment and critique, without sarcasm or insincerity, but honesty and kindness.

And occasionally, the highest honor, they are inviting us to edit: Let’s sparingly and humbly enforce those habits and attitudes in our homes that will call them to godliness, respect, servanthood, initiative, agency, courage.

Of course not all viewing and commenting and editing comes from their invitation. As long as they are under my roof I still have executive authority to view or comment or edit as necessary. But if ignore those invitations and settle only for crowbarring my input into their lives, I’m doing us all a disservice.

Further, there are many around us (not just our children) who we have the privilege of influencing, yet we are tempted to try to control them by forcefully shoving our viewpoint into their lives. Jesus never did this.

Invitations for influence are all around us, if we will patiently pay attention.

The truth is, I fall hopelessly behind on reading all their documents. They can write way more than I can read in a day during naptime! But I’m still wading in, when I can, saying yes to those invitations to view, comment, and edit, working to keep winning their hearts.

{Thanks for reading.}