Contemplative Prayer {Let Sleeping Dogs Lie}

When your guard dog stops barking, that's the time to have a real conversation with God. So always let sleeping dogs lie when you come to the place of contemplative prayer. For as the mysterious Rescuer becomes the intimate Beloved, we must shift our mindset and change the way we talk to Him.

In the aftermath of the storm, when we are still unsorted but no longer emotionally driven, this is where He does His transformation work. Moving from spiritual infancy to relational intimacy with our God is a challenge that includes the vulnerability of communicating with Him.

I wonder as I sit here today- is my faith based upon the adrenaline of emotionally fueled need? Or can I converse with my Savior when I am in His gentle abiding presence, even when I am not carried along by the powerful rescuing of His power? 

When I look back and see the places where there were two sets of footprints in the sand instead of His one, were we walking together in silence or was I sharing aloud my thoughts with Him?

When the emotion dies down and the dust settles, this is where we begin the discipline of figuring out how to talk to God on a daily basis. Like a marriage that moves beyond the honeymoon stage of emotional ups and downs, we can no longer base our faith on our response to the pendulum swing of feeling and response. 

Now that I am safely on dry ground, what can I say once the gratitude comes to an end and the adrenaline of decision runs out?

My transparent confession here is that I don’t know how to talk to God on a normal day- it feels stoic and detached if my prayer is not compelled by tears. And there is nothing lifegiving about an outlook on faith that requires pain to remain motivated.

This past week I have been anxious about my prayer life, so it was time to stop and settle myself into a sermon about surrender, yokes and sustainable faith. And so here today I will attempt to connect my stunted prayer life to the sermon at my home church, a weekend workshop I attended on fear, and silly pictures of my sleeping dog…

I sat down in my study for the first time since we completed it over the weekend, the space my husband created for my love of writing and hope for learning. God willing I will be going to school part-time in the Fall, but either way this is a new and sacred space for my creative and productive writing endeavors. So I paused here in this room to listen to the sermon from Sunday. 

It was a talk from Pastor Rick about keeping your tank full when you are tempted to try running on empty. After a nine-part series on living with margin, my church family wraps up this practical application series with a theme which turned out to be demonstrated right in front of me as I sat there listening-

My dog was asleep on her bed, back on the floor and legs in the air, eyes shut and tongue hanging out. It was clearly well with her soul. 

This is why yoga poses get named after dogs, because they know something we humans don’t- God created us to rest and refuel. This means laying flat on our backs with no agenda and no worries (even if we are normally itchy and high-octane, hell-bound on catching squirrels, retrieving balls and barking viciously at coyotes), relaxing even our tongue so that we do not speak but receive life-giving communion in the silence of our soul.

She was allowing her brain to enter into a state of complete vulnerable relaxation, because even the animals know that silence and solitude is required for healthy survival.

This high-powered, ball-fetching, saber-toothed machine was in a posture of refueling that expressed wisdom which far surpassed my straight back and crossed legs as I sat consuming Christianity in my rocking chair. And Pastor Rick talked for nearly 90 minutes about coming to Jesus for an easy yoke and a releasing of burdens.

But how do you find this kind of rest when

you don’t know how to talk to God

on the other side of a storm?

Last Saturday I went to a workshop at The Freedom Center called Fearless, and in the course of six hours I was invited to explore the deeper pieces of my relationship to Jesus. Especially significant to me was being reminded of a tool I already have in my belt which I rarely ever use- the beautiful practice of Lectio Divina. 

Lectio Divina is a divine reading of Scripture followed by a quiet contemplation of the words; you simply sit with the reading and absorb it into your mind. In practice over time, you begin finding a physical place in the Scripture where you belong, especially if it’s a story passage. The reader literally dwells in the reading, abiding in the meaning and allowing herself to feel whatever is the natural response to this invitation to join Jesus on the page.

I could see the disparity between my inability to pray out loud and my desire to meet Him only in the storm. When the emotional chaos is over, He invites me into the aftermath, which is the most intimate meeting of all, because in that quiet place of post-destruction is where we can speak with Him most calmly and receive His gentle sorting through the damage that was done.

Without the pressure of desperate need and imperative rescue, what do our words sound like when we speak to Him- or do we speak at all? If our conversations with Jesus only happen during storms, very little is actually said and we never develop a conversational relationship, but rather depend on emotion to drive our communication with God. But this is not sustainable. Thus, seeking relationship with Jesus in the gentle margins of drama is a significant part of spiritual formation.

During the workshop we specifically practiced Lectio Divina from the story of when Jesus calms the storm.

It reads like this:

Mark 4:35-41 (NLT)

³⁵ As evening came, Jesus said to his disciples, “Let’s cross to the other side of the lake.” ³⁶ So they took Jesus in the boat and started out, leaving the crowds behind (although other boats followed). ³⁷ But soon a fierce storm came up. High waves were breaking into the boat, and it began to fill with water.

³⁸ Jesus was sleeping at the back of the boat with his head on a cushion. The disciples woke him up, shouting, “Teacher, don’t you care that we’re going to drown?”

³⁹ When Jesus woke up, he rebuked the wind and said to the waves, “Silence! Be still!” Suddenly the wind stopped, and there was a great calm. ⁴⁰ Then he asked them, “Why are you afraid? Do you still have no faith?”

⁴¹ The disciples were absolutely terrified. “Who is this man?” they asked each other. “Even the wind and waves obey him!”

After the reading we spent several minutes in silence allowing ourselves to connect with the text and find ourselves in it.

I found myself writing these words in my quiet reflection on the passage-

I am a bird above the storm. I cannot see what is happening, I don’t know who is involved. But I know I am afraid and there is danger.

The clouds begin to break apart very suddenly, and there is an invitation- keep flying onward or dive down and see what God has been doing here.

Ignore the damage and miss the healing, or stop and enter the aftermath in order to see Jesus face to face?

The storm has passed and the invitation is to come and see what God is doing there now…

What is God doing here with me now that the storm is over? What is He sorting through?

All week I have abstained from prayer because I don’t know what to say. I think my relationship to Him has been based on the emotional turmoil of the past few years- so what now?? I have come through a storm, but I am still myself, and God is still God, and how do I spend an entire lifetime as His beloved when I don't know how to talk to Him on a normal day?

So as I sat and listened to Pastor Rick discuss resting in Jesus, I found myself feeling ashamed and anxious- am I doing this spiritual growth thing right? Am I getting it down? Why don’t I have an abundance of peace? Is my margin big enough for deep healing to happen? Is my faith really so shallow???

All the while my dog snores at my feet, and God knocks at my heart and the light of peace rages outside my window.

“Daughter,” He says, “I am not in a hurry. I want to be in your story with you as Your source of deep soul-rest and contentment. Stop asking these questions of yourself and start asking them of Me. Don’t doubt yourself, doubt Me and then watch how I will exceed your expectations every time. Surrender the unsorted fallout, now that the storm is over, and abide with Me in the messy aftermath as we float together here on a clam sea of deep waters.”

Says my pastor as I rock and listen and worry, “It is miserable to sit in God’s waiting room when we are in a hurry and He is not.”

Jesus, I have a lovely room to wait in, but my mind is somewhere else today, chasing after every worry and fear that passes through my thoughts. I don't know how to relate to You outside of a storm.

So I look for storms for my faith to ride on. Like the worry that I won’t finish grad school when I haven't even started or been accepted yet. Irrational? But God! I am a full-time mommy of two- and today I have a sick boy home from school, and the fear rises up which says I cannot miss class and take care of my sick child at the same time, so what am I going to do, God?

Anxiety says quit while you are ahead, because it might be hard. Assume there is a storm even when there is not one, because who knows when another one will set in. Live each day like there is a storm, even when there is not. Search for storms and pray about them like crazy, never letting an opportunity pass you by to grab worry by the horns and ride it into the sunset.

And then how is God supposed to speak to us over the screaming chaos of our fears? If He is always rescuing us, how can He ever meet with us in the calm places of our mind?

So God leans in closer and says, “Meet Me in the margin and let sleeping dogs lie.”

And that margin is a discipline, one which requires contemplative prayer.

Friends, God has called me to prayer this week. No, not the prayer I say in the presence of others, but the prayer I speak aloud into the silence when I am alone with Him.

This is hard. It feels vulnerable to come to God without desperate need, but simply to approach Him for the sake of intimate conversation. To say to Him, "can we talk about what happened, now that it's over and I can think more clearly?"

When my guard dog stops barking, that's the time to have a real conversation with God.

To communicate with the Spirit effectively, we must allow Him to calm the storm of our emotions and bring quiet to the chaotic places in our mind. Then we must be willing to meet with Him in the aftermath, amidst the silent disorder and quiet confusion, and begin to sort things out. Piece by piece, thought by thought, broken relationships and old wounds attended to in the quiet of our conversation which is slightly muffled by the vast silence all around us.

To be alone with God after the storm is to be absolutely and terrifyingly vulnerable. To speak in this space is even more so. To let sleeping dogs lie means to enter into a sacred space where the only agenda is relational intimacy.

Contemplative prayer happens in the margin of our emotions, in the space between input and reaction, observation and conclusion, realization and response. If we can widen the margin between the calming of the storm and the rapid moving onwards towards the next storm, in that sacred space we can find healing for our soul through a closeness of our Savior.

I learned an awakening fact at the Fearless workshop- Prayer is centered in the part of the brain that processes and understands what has happened post-reaction. So contemplative prayer is actually centered in the calm which comes after the storm.

Now I am no neuroscientist, so don’t correct my lack of knowledge on the subject of brain science. Just give me grace for the path of learning I am taking at my own slow pace. I’m doing the best I know how with the little information I have thus far. But according to what I heard, contemplative prayer happens in the rational part of our brain called the neocortex.

Here is what struck me when I learned this about prayer- I have a hard time praying because I feel like I should have a wave of emotion behind my words when I pray out loud. Otherwise I feel like they are not authentic.

Basically, I am only good at praying when I am in a storm- afterwards, I don't know what to say.

Whenever I pray in public, or even in quiet, I become calm and almost “emotionless” as my mind centers on the words and my awareness movse away from how I was feeling before I started the prayer. I disassociate from my emotions when I pray out loud. I thought this was a problem.

But wouldn’t this be a good thing for someone who struggles with anxiety? Yes. Because it means I can move out from under anxiety when I pray, because prayer brings my awareness to a part of my brain which is rational and good at reasoning and regulating emotion. And it explains a lot about how prayer practiced as a discipline over time literally heals the brain from unwanted emotion.

But somehow I have always considered myself a “bad” pray-er because I never feel "emotional" when I speak plain and simple words to God out loud- unless I am in a storm. When my prayers are desperate and broken and full of tear-filled repentant need for rescue, then I have strong communication with God. But one cannot live an entire prayer life dependent upon storms, because who can live in continual fear?

So I almost always write my prayers, because then they flow with emotion and feel genuine and also safe, since writing happens in a different place within the brain than speaking. Writing my prayers is great, and I have written countless prayers and treasure them and will pass them onto my children someday. But despite my written affluence, I still stumble to speak to God out loud. 

Yet I hear a call to create intimacy with Christ by meeting with Him in the margin and speaking with Him in the places that need freedom from fear. There is hope to know that peaceful prayer is actually supposed to be free from raging emotion, because God located it in a different place in our brain. It has a sacred space all it's own, and for good reason- it keeps is safe from the storm and accessible outside of emotional turbulence. Good news for me, but still hard to realize.

Unlike when I write to Him, when I actually talk to God I feel very small and insufficient and rather deflated. When I get quiet before God I can hear His invitation in the aftermath of emotional chaos, but I don't know how to reply. So often I am intimidated by the invitation to meet with Him in the calm, because I am so accustomed to meeting Him only in the chaos. But in the discipline of contemplative prayer, if I wait with humility and patience and trust His gentle presence, He will point out a quiet place where our conversation can begin.

As He meets me in my insecurities, He gently invites me to speak with Him in the places that accommodate intimate conversation.

It is this separation of emotion and prayer that feels foreign and confusing, vulnerable and intimate. Why am I here, if not to ask for something I need? To approach our God for the sake of being with Him, to come to Him unsorted and exposed and uncertain, this is what it means to let sleeping dogs lie. Don't upset the restful state of mind, but abide in it and receive much needed healing in calmer waters.

Just as contemplative prayer happens in the neocortex of the brain, I also learned that emotion is located in the limbic system, a separate part of the brain. This is where we feel- the place where the storm hits and the reaction happens. This is where we act without thinking and evaluate later. This is where regrets happen, and words we cannot take back. This is where shame takes root.

Thankfully for anxiety-prone people such as myself, the place inside our brain where we practice contemplative prayer is not the same place as where we experience violent emotional storms.

So there is a difference between braving the storm and speaking with the Savior. There must be an experience of both extremes- extreme emotion and extreme tranquility. To have a quiet mind allows God to meet us on a deeper level. Big emotions can pave the way for communion with God because they indicate the areas that need healing and create opportunity for invitation, but intimate conversation with God happens after the storm has passed. 

Braving the waves may initiate the start of a relationship with Him, but they cannot define it. We must meet with Jesus in the quite places of our mind where we can process His love for us and the reason for His rescue. When the dog is sleeping, let it be, because as sure as the dawn it will rise up and demand attention soon enough. When prayer is not fueled by emotion, pray anyways- even if it feels empty, as I know it does sometimes. 

In the letdown after a storm, contemplative prayer is an access to His presence that is only possible in the quiet state of still waters.

Prayer heals the brain because speaking to God requires mental processing, rational thought and awareness of the present moment. So in order to get from emotional response down into contemplative prayer, we must invite Jesus to discuss the storm with us after it is all over, so that we can come down from our fearful flight high in the sky and see what He is doing at ground level within us.

I liken the storm to the amygdala, that part of our limbic system which is in fight or flight mode.

My daughter calls the amygdala the "guard dog", one which is always on the lookout for danger. It worries, stresses, panics, doubts, and has not concept of time. It is a place of emotional turmoil- we need help to regulate and calm this internal chaos. Jesus, in my imaginative illustration here, is the hippocampus. This is a place in our brain which requires language in order to heal and grow. My daughter calls this the "wise owl" of her thoughts. It moderates the storm through analytical reasoning, builds context for situations and pulls things into perspective. It keeps the guard dog calm under stress.

If we put language to what we are feeling, if we pray aloud in the silence of the aftermath, we allow Jesus to enter in and move into the neocortex, that place in our brain where we can begin to pray and process and begin to develop sustainable, intimate relationship with Him.

This is good news for anxious, prayer-stunted, shell-shocked followers of Jesus such as myself.

I want to become brave enough to dive into the aftermath and talk rationally with Him about what has happened and what He is doing to sort it all out now.

Friends, the hope I have today is that I can assist in my own healing process by learning to how to pray. I activate my neocortex when I speak with Jesus, and I can process my anxiety in a healthy way through even the most timid conversation with Him. Now that I know this, I can consciously invite Jesus to meet with me in the stillness of my rational brain, separate from my emotion, so that we can converse together in peace. For an anxious worrier like myself, this is a great comfort. 

I look forward to practicing this more in the days to come as I anticipate going back to school.

I want to begin enter into awe and wonder when I approach conversation with God, as I desire to move down into the stillness of the aftermath. When I am anxious, I will remember the tool of contemplative prayer- it does not take away the cause of my anxiety, but it frees me up to converse with my Teacher about whatever is going on. It helps me find a sacred space to do healing work by His side. This is Jesus doing a transforming work within me, inviting His child to see not only the unsorted damage but to witness the miracle of soul repair that He is quietly carrying out.

We actively assist in our own healing when we practice contemplative prayer, and this happens through words that are humble, gentle and honest. This, my friends, is why He tells us that His burden is light.

Matthew 11:28-30 (NLT)

²⁸ Then Jesus said, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. ²⁹ Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. ³⁰ For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.”

When Pastor Rick talks to us about soul-deep rest, he is talking about the promise that if we meet with Jesus in the margin through disciplines such as Lecto Divina and contemplative prayer, our brain will literally arrive in a place where we can communicate clearly with our God and receive the comfort and peace that we crave.

No, the problems are not solved, the worries are not erased. But they are given proper perspective, a place of submission beneath the gracious will of God. And He can begin to sort through the wreckage alongside us, and we will be in awe that He is so good to love us even when we feel so unsorted.

This is how you find rest 

and intimacy with God

on the other side of a storm.

Father, forgive me for neglecting to meet and talk with You on so many occasions. I have preferred to fly over the storm and ignore it, rather than waiting for You to part the clouds and inviting me to survey the damage with You so that we can begin the repair together. Please help me find the language I need to speak words of surrender to You so that I can experience the lightness of Your yoke upon my shoulders, and the freedom to slow my pace and arrive alongside You instead of moving on, away from healing and towards another storm. For myself and all those who are reading this today, I ask for You to quiet the chaos of our ego-mind so that we can experience the deep healing of trusting You with our emotional weariness. God, invite us again to survey the damage and meet with You in the place in our brain where we process information and contemplate Your words. May I learn to trust You both in the speaking and in the silence, both in the storm and in the peace, and please bless my feeble attempts to talk to You when the storm is over and I don’t know what to say.

Thank you for loving me even when I feel so unsorted.

In Jesus name, Amen.

As we go into this week, dear friends, may we remember that in order to exchange our emotional burden for the mental processing of peace, we must meet with Him in the calm which comes after the storm. Here the emotion dies down and the dust settles, because it is after the storm is over that He does His most intimate work within us, sorting gently and quietly through the wreckage as we talk about each piece with Him. And as the mysterious Rescuer becomes the intimate Beloved, we can shift our mindset and change the way we talk to Him. 

Thank you so much for contemplating this in prayer with me today- I very much appreciate my tiny tribe of readers.

When your guard dog stops barking, that's the time to have that intimate conversation with Jesus for which He patiently awaits. So let sleeping dogs lie, and may all canines be peaceful and happy as we contemplate Gods' Word in the quiet aftermath of the storm :)

With Gratitude,

Rebecca

~*~

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Welcome Worry, Invite Jesus {A Margin Of Surrender}

This egg has been abandoned because of fear. It lies cold and dead, a memorial to all that could have been. It will never live to its potential because its mother fled away in fear from territorial attackers.

The enemy is always looking for ways to squelch our best intentions- this is why the Universe is always sending us countering messages of hope. But we must actively listen, because the opposition is loud and demanding while the gentle inner Voice will never squabble for our attention.

Who knew that hopes and dreams were such targets for oppression?

To run away from fear is to abandon your hopes and dreams to the clutches of a hard and broken world.

When you deny your emotions, it is like fleeing the nest egg of your hearts desires.

So now is the time to sit and be silent.

Listen. Take inventory of the emotion inside yourself.

What do you feel? What resides there in the hidden places of your soul?

Yes, there it is inside, deep down beneath the busy of the day- worry.

I see you, fear. I see you anxiety. Sit with me.

Perhaps this worry is an unwelcome guest, or maybe it is an old roommate. No matter- welcome it anyways.

It brings a whole host of cohorts- anxiety, fear, bitterness, anger, doubt.

Welcome worry?

Yes. Welcome it.

Allow worry to enter in and sit beside you. Say,

“Welcome, worry, please take a seat.

Thank you for being here, I acknowledge what you bring.

Although you cannot stay here for long, I invite you to dwell with me here.

Please, tell me what it is that you need.”

Always ask worry what it needs, because there is always a deeper longing that drove it to knock on your door.

I was once opposed to worry, and I denied it, stuffed it down and shut it out.

I said to myself, “No worry! Just stop worrying!”

But when I do this, worry finds other ways to get in- it sneaks in a window and surprises me from behind or haunts me from the shadows. It ruins my life if I don’t make space for it.

Worry takes many forms, which is why our very own Pastor Swamidass spoke about it from the pulpit-

How To Free Myself From The Weight Of Worry- Living On A Margin – Part 6.

This week I was worried about what would happen next on my journey to becoming a counselor. I was searching for validation from my Father as to what my next step should be.

I wanted to start in the Fall semester but I was worried about a confliction with an already-committed family trip. It would cause me to miss class for a full week of vacation, which is rather unacceptable when you are working with a committed attitude towards your M.Div. I debated pushing my start date out another 9 months, which seemed so very far away considering the fire burning in my heart.

And I worried.

“God,” I prayed, “I come before you with a new desire in my heart- I believe You put it there in Your loving kindness towards me. I want to go back to school for my Masters degree. I will not be afraid to trust You- I sense that this dream is not only in line with Your plan, it is what You have wanted for me for a long time.  You simply had to wait  for me to arrive at it in my own way, in my own time. Please, Father, can I have Your provision for this dream?”

Welcome, worry. 

Welcome, Jesus.

Sit with me here. Let’s all meet together.

I have made margin for both of you at the table of my soul.

“Father, I usually don’t ask for big picture items, but You put this desire within me for a reason. I thank You for bringing attention to the dream in my heart, to become a counselor and life-coach so that I can talk others through hard seasons and the worries of their own lives. Someday I want to have a little office somewhere, maybe in a church or a freedom center, where I can make this vocation a reality. God, I humbly ask for Your provision and support to move ahead into this dream for my life.”

Now Jesus is leaning over the table, meeting with my worry and communing with it. It won’t be long before my worry can let go of me, so that I can surrender it up to Him.

“I have never had a great aspiration that was all just for myself, so this feels foreign. I don’t know how to ask You this, Jesus, but here goes: Please send me affirmation with every step I take, so that I have the internal conviction that I am not alone and that You are working beside me. I need You at the center of this vision for my future. I want to do this work in Your name, for Your glory and for my joy. Amen.”

The Admissions Counselor smiles kindly and nods when I ask about my week vacation- she turns to look at her computer screen, clicks and scrolls while I wait, and then turns to me with these words which I will never forget-

“Well, it looks like the date of your upcoming vacation will coincide with the week when the entire school shuts down for a conference. There should not be a problem with those dates at all.”

Jesus.

Truly, I must be His favorite, because He shut down the entire campus just so I could take my vacation and also start school in the Fall. This is affirmation, not coincidence. Thank you, Jesus.

Worry has fled the room, and I breathe deep. It is just Jesus sitting beside me now, the sound of grace bouncing off the empty furniture. I will remember this moment in the days to come, when I doubt my motives and question my ambitions. I will remember how He affirms me.

Welcome worry so that you can give it what it needs and then release it away from yourself.

And when I get home I remember what our Pastor Swamidass said from the screen on Sunday- 

“Walk in the peace He provides. The difference between terror and excitement is trusting who is in control.”

If I am not careful, the excitement of my journey can become terror- only when I welcome Jesus into my worry can I reset my intentions.

Only when I make margin for the worry to be acknowledged, welcomed, and fully felt can it  then be fully released to Jesus because I remember that the outcome of each fear can be freely surrendered to Him.

If you long for the three fundamental needs of human existence, love, safety, and control, then you must first meet with yourself on the level of your emotions.

Take stock of your emotions, meet with them, greet them with respect and hear their needs without judgement. Then invite Jesus into each piece of insecurity and watch how He begins a healing work in those hurting places.

When I worry, I have begun to welcome the worry as a friend in need of guidance. “Welcome, worry, you are invited to be here for a little while. Tell me what you need.”

When worry is triggered in a relationship, I say “Welcome, Jesus. You are here with me.”

When worry is activated inside my body as anxiety, I say “Welcome, Jesus, welcome inside this part of me that feels fear.”

When worry rises up with hurtful memories, I say “Welcome, Jesus, I invite you into my past because only You know how to heal it.”

This welcoming prayer is a tool that I use to heal my emotional wounds and insecurities- I need it daily, especially since beginning this unexpected journey towards something new.

Our emotions like to present themselves as complicated, but usually they are not so. Often, at the center of an emotional reaction is a wound, plain and simple, and inviting the professional Counselor of our souls is exactly what we need to begin the healing process.

Friends, allow me this one last thing before I conclude-

Before my intention to attend school and return to studies, my husband had the inclination to build me an office space. It was supposed to be for my creative writing, which I do on the side. He ordered the furniture and drew up the plans.

Turns out he was creating a space for my studies before either of us realized.

But there was certainly Someone who knew exactly what would be needed, and He was one step ahead of me lighting the way.

Reader, I invite you to say this when you feel your own worry rising-

The Welcoming Prayer (by Father Thomas Keating)
Welcome, welcome, welcome.
I welcome everything that comes to me today
because I know it's for my healing.
I welcome all thoughts, feelings, emotions, persons,
situations, and conditions.
I let go of my desire for power and control.
I let go of my desire for affection, esteem,
approval and pleasure.
I let go of my desire for survival and security.
I let go of my desire to change any situation,
condition, person or myself.
I open to the love and presence of God and
God's action within. Amen.

Friends, combat your worry with contemplative prayer- invite Jesus into the dark places, the hurting places, the doubt and the fear. Let Him abide with you in anxiety and begin His healing work in your soul.

The tiny egg of our desires will be abandoned because of fear if we do not actively fight for a place in the margin where we can sit and nurse our frightened inner child.

Who knew that hopes and dreams were such targets for emotional violence?

To run away from fear is to abandon your hopes and dreams to the clutches of a hard and broken world.

So when worry comes in to attack your territory, do not flee- welcome it in and open up a conversation with it. Find out what it needs.

Contemplate your fears without criticizing them- invite Jesus to abide in them with you, find out what you need, and trust Him to meet that need.

He may just build you a desk or cancel a week of school just to affirm His love for you.

And if not that, at the very least He will bring the peace that passes understanding, because He cares about what happens to you.

Trust your emotions to the One who made them and gave them to you.

Trust your desires to the One who put them in your heart.

Welcome your worry, invite your Savior, and abide in the margin of surrender and healing.

Sit there with your dreams, keep them warm, and do not abandon the nest which holds the desires of your heart.

Beneath those worries you will find a treasure. Don't be afraid to dig deep to find it. Don't be afraid to sit with yourself in the pit even when it's scary.

Extend empathy and compassion to yourself because this keeps your spirit warm.

Remain diligent, my friends. Sit in the margin even when worry comes, and never abandon the God-given needs of your soul.

With Love,

Rebecca

~*~

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Designed To Desire {A Margin Of Contentment}

Today I taught my Saddleback Kids about the temptation of Jesus, and I also had the opportunity to preach this lesson to myself:

I am designed to desire contentment, 

and it can be found in the margin of Grace.

But this is hard.

My favorite author Dallas Willard puts the struggle this way: “Almost all of us are acutely aware of how the incessant clamorings of our bodies defeat our intentions to ‘be spiritual’”.

But what does it mean to be truly content?

Today this human question makes sense to me in a new way, and I have a bit more hope about the answer than I did the day before.

And so I am here cooking dinner and contemplating this with a heart full of gratitude on a Sunday evening.

Contentment is as much a spiritual posture as it is a physical discipline. It means coming before God as an empty vessel and receiving His declaration that we are beautifully made and eternally loved even if we remain empty forever- and THEN allowing Him to fill us up with whatever He deems best.

Contentment requires deep trust, both in ourselves as we remain vulnerable and open, and in our God as He determines what to pour into our lives as He meets our needs.

We were all born brimming with desire- we are creatures of deep need and longing, filled with a gaping emptiness that we ourselves cannot fill. From birth we are screaming for fulfillment and are helpless to achieve it on our own- no, we must look to our Provider as he meets our needs through His created things.

We desire to desire.

And then we want our desires to be met quickly. And then we desire to desire again.

It is a vicious cycle.

BUT we WERE designed to desire- except in a whole and healthy Kingdom, not in this broken wounded one full of scarcity and fear.

So we must lean into the vulnerability of desire and abide in the full awareness of the deep hunger in our souls.

This week we gathered as a church family to hear about “Learning To Be Content”, part four of the Living on a Margin series.

Though this week’s topic might seems to be surface level, in actuality it plumbs down into the depths of our beings and can reveal some critical components about who we are and where we are going, both as individuals and as a human race.

To learn to be content is to begin the practice of soul care.

Because our souls are crying out for permission to abide with God in this, the present moment, without rushing on in haste for satisfaction of something more, which in actuality is something less.

To be discontent is to disparage the value of who you have already become.

As Pastor Dave Page said on Sunday, “Contentment is margin for your soul.” Indeed, it is the place where we sit with our needs without pushing them away or strangling them close- resting in the desire without squelching it.

Each week I have the joy of teaching elementary students about Jesus- this week we covered the topic of Jesus being tempted by Satan in the wilderness. I would like to correlate what Pastor Page said about contentment with what I taught my Saddleback Kids about the temptation of Jesus. I think it pieces together nicely, and I thank the Spirit for the correlating of these different ideas.

Pastor Dave gave three truths about contentment which line up quite nicely with the three tests that Christ experienced in my Sunday school lesson from Matthew 4:1-13.

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IDEA ONE:

One of the points on our Sunday morning outline was the idea that “Contentment isn’t found in what happens to me”.

Perhaps I can rephrase this to fit my own flawed thinking, the seed of so many of my mistakes-

LIE #1: I AM WHAT I DO.

This misconception will lead to a great deal of discontent in the lives of all of us, and it is a lie that most people, including myself, believe on a regular basis. To wage war against this tragedy we must wield our contentment with mindfulness and gratitude for each present moment.

We must fight against the lie that we are what we do, whether that action is good or bad.

As the adults were learning this in the auditorium, here is what I was learning with my Saddleback Kids-

4 Then Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan River. He was led by the Spirit in the wilderness,^[a] 2 where he was tempted by the devil for forty days. Jesus ate nothing all that time and became very hungry.

³ Then the devil said to him, “If you are the Son of God, tell this stone to become a loaf of bread.”

⁴ But Jesus told him, “No! The Scriptures say, ‘People do not live by bread alone.’^[b]”

Can’t you hear the voice of the enemy here?

Make bread, Jesus, you need to do something or you will die! God cannot provide!

That voice tells us to be discontented with our circumstances, DO SOMETHING, take action to fix the problem, the contentment will be found within our abilities as an individual apart from God. You must react NOW.

This voice gets me in trouble.

I have reacted in foolish ways to what I thought I needed to do. I believed that I needed to perform for love.

This is why Jesus said NO, I am not “what I do”, because the human body needs to rely on God in order to nourish the soul.

No, I am not what I do, because my identity and worth as a child of God is not founded on my actions (thank God!) but upon His.

No, I am not what I do, and if I believe that, I will always be discontented, because I will always fall short.

If I am what I do, then I am a sinner, a failure, a reject, a prodigal, homeless, churchless, an orphan.

But this is not true of me, because-

Contentment is found

in what He lovingly does

to nourish my faith

in the margins of each day.

Thank you Jesus.

~*~

IDEA TWO:

 We also heard this statement from the pulpit on Sunday- “Contentment isn’t found in what I have.”

Put another way-

Lie #2: I AM WHAT I HAVE.

And my Saddleback kids and I learned the next part of the story from Luke-

⁵ Then the devil took him up and revealed to him all the kingdoms of the world in a moment of time. ⁶ “I will give you the glory of these kingdoms and authority over them,” the devil said, “because they are mine to give to anyone I please. ⁷ I will give it all to you if you will worship me.”

⁸ Jesus replied, “The Scriptures say,

‘You must worship the Lord your God
    and serve only him.’^[c]”

Do you recognize the voice of the enemy on this one?

You are what you have. Collect as much as you can, keep a list, make a chart, compare yourself. 

Keep track, hold on to your hurts because they define you, possess and own every offense done to you because it empowers you. If you identify yourself with what you have then you will be abundant with wealth, riches, power, safety.

This is a scarcity mindset- keep everything for yourself, because there is not enough to go around.

No, friends, this is not the Kingdom economy. I have learned the hard way (and continue to learn) that the Kingdom currency has turned the competition of the world upside down.

There is no scarcity in Jesus, only abundance.

If I am what I have, then I am in great trouble because I have regret, grief, shame, fear, anxiety, hurts, grievances, grudges, and offense, just to name a few. I could never be content with this lot. When I identity myself with the feelings and thoughts that I have, I identify myself with internal chaos and rampant discontentment.

Alternately, when I judge the value of my person based on my material possessions, then the value of my life is time-stamped and perishable at best, old and useless at its worst, and is always based on an endless desire for more, more, more.

Scarcity is the death of contentment.

I am surely glad to know that I am not what I have. Rather-

Contentment is found

in what He provides

to grow my trust in Him

in the margins of every hour.

Thank you Jesus.

~*~

Finally, the greatest temptation of all is presented to us. Church, we must hear this one for all it’s worth, because to miss this is to fail to heed a major warning.

IDEA THREE:

This is the hardest lesson of all, the one we have all believed again and again. It’s the area of desire which is the most tempting, which is why Satan saved the best for last with Jesus.

It is the lie that we need the approval of others to be called a child of God.

It’s the lie that says we are only worthy of love and belonging if we are liked by everyone around us.

It’s the lie that says we might not be safe to belong in this world as we truly are.

LIE #3: I AM WHAT PEOPLE SAY ABOUT ME.

Oh this one is powerful, dreadfully so. Which is why we were reminded by our teaching Pastor on Sunday- “Contentment isn’t found in comparing myself with others.”

We are all bent towards a desire for validation from other humans- it is perhaps one of our greatest weaknesses. We want to be well liked, well respected, spoken highly of. When we are not, what are we?

We desire prestige, respect, admiration. We are not content if we don’t have it.

We want to know that when we jump, we will be caught and raised up, lifted high by the praises of our peers, friends, church and family.

We want to know that we are safe to belong, and that if we fall our community will be there to catch us.

But I know this is not always the case, and from Jesus’ example we can all see how it is dangerous to make a blind leap onto the opinions of others-

⁹ Then the devil took him to Jerusalem, to the highest point of the Temple, and said, “If you are the Son of God, jump off! ¹⁰ For the Scriptures say,

‘He will order his angels to protect and guard you.
¹¹ And they will hold you up with their hands
    so you won’t even hurt your foot on a stone.’^[d]”

¹² Jesus responded, “The Scriptures also say, ‘You must not test the Lord your God.’^[e]”

Instead of looking to people for validation, we are called by God to look to Him and Him alone. All else is secondary.

But we desire human praises, which is why we become co-dependent, anxious and fearful of rejection.

It hurts to be let down, and it hurts to let down others. I have experienced both, very deeply. Which is why I can appreciate this final temptation of Jesus on a personal level.

Jump and test if they will catch you.

What happens when they don’t?

You are wounded deeply and you will never be the same.

So we must get up, regroup, attend therapy and hear what God is teaching us-

Contentment is found

in what He says about me

in the margins of each moment.

Thank you Jesus.

~*~

Yes, teaching my Saddleback Kids about the temptation of Jesus was really about preaching a lesson to myself, a lesson which was reinforced by the Sunday sermon later that morning.

And it is a good lesson to be reminded of, because discontent is a human problem and a human being who lives a contented life is a rare thing indeed.

The enemy wants for nothing more than to keep us restless, unhappy, unsatisfied and looking in the wrong places for answers. This has been the war tactic for ages.

¹³ When the devil had finished tempting Jesus, he left him until the next opportunity came.

Because rest assured, my friends, the feelings of discontent will come. We will desire things we think we need, things which we mistakenly assume shape our identity: to HAVE, to DO, to BE in ways that do not involve the Kingdom economy of our God.

But God is in the business of refining our desires to make them look like His- holy and good and blessed, nourishing and full of freedom to claim our true identity as a child of the King.

Remember, His Kingdom is upside-down community, and the only thing you have for sure is Him, the only thing you do is receive His love, and the only thing spoken over you is beloved.

If you recognize any of my ideas here from the vastly underrated, late, great Henri Nouwen, that’s because he has been my inspiration for much of my thought process these past few months. In his beautiful sermon called “The Life Of The Beloved”, Nouwen teaches lessons about contentment through the same scripture I shared with you here.

Can we be content with the love of our Creator? If all we have is Jesus, is that enough? Even if we are alone in our contentment sometimes?

If He said you are worth dying and rising for, what does that mean for your identity?

We don’t need to HAVE, to DO, or to BE anything before the throne of God in order to belong and to be loved. We simply need to be content with His forgiveness and His grace.

Contentment is a process and a journey, and so I have a very long road ahead of me. But if we keep our eyes set firmly on Him and submerge ourselves in His Word, then we will come out victorious because God is in the business of redeeming our desires so that He can fulfill them with His love.

May you go into your day with an awareness that God is working in the margins to take action for you, to provide for you, and to speak words of adoration over you.

Meet Him in the margin and surrender your desires to Him while they still feel unmet, because He welcomes us just as we are, here and now.

Contentment is a spiritual posture- it means coming before God as an empty vessel and receiving His declaration that we are beautifully made and eternally loved even if we remain empty forever- and THEN allowing Him to fill us up with whatever He deems best.

Contentment requires deep trust, both in ourselves as we remain vulnerable and open, and in our God as He determines what is best to pour into our lives as He meets our needs.

What do you desire? Though your desires might seem to be surface level, in actuality they plumb down into the depths of your being and can reveal some critical components about who you are and where you are going, both as an individual and within your greater community.

To learn to be content is to begin the practice of soul care. So it is here in the margin of your daily activity that you will find true contentment and lasting fulfillment, even in the midst of momentary or even prolonged dissatisfaction.

Be blessed, Saddleback family. May the incessant clamorings of our minds and bodies propel us to rest more deeply in His arms.

I love you, church, and I thank God for you.

I am so thankful that Jesus is using you to teach me these important lessons.

May we grow together in the margin of His Grace, because we are designed to desire contentment in Him, and the sooner we acknowledge this the closer we move towards victory.

With Gratitude~

Rebecca

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