Tag Archives: holy spirit

Atmosphere

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Atmosphere

Blessed are You,
Lord our God,
King of the Universe,
for atmosphere:
vigilant protector of earth,
gaseous, transparent blanket.
Through it I see lightyears away,
into eternity past.

Blessed are You
for this vastness,
and for the accompanying
sense of smallness,
releasing me from striving
to impress the world,
impress myself, impress You.

Blessed are You,
Lord our God,
King of the Universe,
for Your invisible, protective Spirit.
Your presence saves me.
Fear and shame combust on impact.
It is both profligate freedom,
and steadfast humility.
Your breath is my shield,
and my window to eternity.

Cohabiting With God

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I have spent much time at the frazzled edges of my life, floundering in feelings, confused, overwhelmed. Only recently have I become aware that I have a center: a place to come back to, where I always belong, and where my value is not hanging in the balance.

One day last November I settled in my prayer chair with a handful of stressful dreams still on my mind. I felt overwhelmed and tired, but I didn’t want to dwell on that and get bogged down. I sang quietly. Somehow I expressed a desire for companionship: I didn’t need to be happy, but to know I was not alone. And a very clear impression came to me of a simple bedroom in my heart, with Jesus in it. It was a small room, and Jesus sat on a single bed with a white bedspread. This verse came to mind: “Then Christ will make His home in your hearts as you trust in Him” (Ephesians 3:17a, NLT). And I just sat there and enjoyed His companionship for a while—I don’t know how long, maybe half an hour. We didn’t say much. Having typically felt the need to be talking —either in my head or out loud—when I sit with Jesus, this long stretch of quiet companionship was a new experience. It was lovely and life-giving, like sitting with your head on the shoulder of a loved one and just breathing in the quiet acceptance of that space.

This awareness of Jesus in me has captivated me with peaceful excitement. After that first impression I returned to the image of Jesus seated on His bed in my heart over and over. I realized there was a second bed on the wall facing Jesus’ bed, and that it was for me to rest in, or a place to sit and talk with Jesus. “Christ in me, the hope of glory” (Colossians 1:27).

Somehow in this brief moment—this mental image—Jesus went from being “out there” to being “in here.” This reminds me of an experience I had last fall when I was getting quiet in the mornings: I would take a moment to pay attention to what was in my very center, and find great peace there—as if God was in me and I simply needed to pay attention. This knowing that I am centered in the love and presence of Jesus is exhilarating. It has power (He has power) over the frantic and fearful state that has often been my identity.

It’s kind of like the eye of a storm, except that the calm center trumps the destruction around it. It is the Truth, and it has the final say. This is Jesus’ bedroom in my heart: a Presence that embodies tenderness; an open door; an extra bed for me to flop down on. Chaos and lies stop at the door, because Jesus emptied Himself (Philippians 2:7, ESV) to purchase this holy space for me. And even Chaos and Evil know that this Love is the greatest power in the universe. They respect Love’s jurisdiction. (James 2:19)

I am holy (Colossians 3:12, NIRV). This holy center, like the smooth innards of a chocolate truffle, is as pleasurable as it is satisfying. Every moment, I am gifted this opportunity to “taste and see that the Lord is good” (Psalm 34:8a); to know God as provider (Philippians 4:19), identity (1 Corinthians 2:16), and refuge (Psalm 46:1).

God who is Ever-Present, Emmanuel: this is miracle of miracles. From heaven, to earth, to the hearts of humans, this Love moves always toward us, desiring intimacy, inviting little us into the holy enormity of oneness (John 17:21). And so I come to know that I am not on the fringes, not on the outside waiting to be let in, but already inside. Holy. Whole. Free from the clutches of confusion and shame. Alive.

God’s life has literally taken up residence inside me (1 John 4:15, 16). Big God living in little me (Romans 8:11). I am His home address. And He is my riches (Ephesians 3:8), my fullness (Ephesians 3:19), my friend (John 15:15), sibling (Romans 8:29, NIV), and parent (2 Corinthians 6:18)—relating to me in every way possible because I am His prize (James 1:18, NLT), His pride and joy (Hebrews 12:2).

God’s life has literally taken up residence inside you. Big God living in little you. You are His home address. And He is your riches, your fullness, your friend, sibling, and parent—relating to you in every way possible because you are His prize, His pride and joy.

Photo by cottonbro from Pexels

Lies, #2

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Lie: Your productivity is more important than almost anything else, including your emotions, your desires, how tired or hungry you are, and whether you find value in what you’re producing or not. Ah yes, this lie is so familiar to me, so insistent, so much a part of the fabric of how I have lived my life.

Have you noticed that lies and idols can be one and the same? I have always been confused when people try to talk about “modern” idols – money, possessions, relationships, whatever. Until a few years back when I did a Bible study on the book of Jeremiah that helped me identify my idols: productivity and comfort. Those were the first two idols I identified. When I told a friend, she said “those seem like good things!” Yes indeed. And that is how Satan so skillfully weaves them into my being and snares me with them and even convinces me to worship them.

Here is how the Holy Spirit answered this lie: “You are the most important thing to Me. I died for you even though you might not choose me, and I love you the same whether you choose me or not. I made you and I love you: your emotions, your desires, your values. How you feel matters to me, and I want to give you rest. You don’t need to do anything for me. (You don’t need to love me. You don’t need to serve me. You don’t need to be a good Christian so you’re not misrepresenting my name. You don’t need to have daily devotions. I love you. And if you love me back that’s like a cherry on top.)”

He took all the “works” right out of it and made it about grace. This is the God I am coming to know. The emotionally safe God, the God who turns things upside down, the God who saves me from myself. He takes these wounds in my spirit and shows them to me, layer by layer, revealing what healing He has for me.

So layered with this lie is another one, again from childhood (this is how I internalized things, not necessarily the message my parents were trying to send): Working hard is extremely important, and learning to work hard is the purpose of childhood. Those who don’t work hard reap the consequences. It is never ok not to be a hard worker. What needs to be accomplished (which is anything productive that is available in any area that is not currently in a state of perfection) is more important than you. Whether you have the time, energy, motivation, or interest to do it doesn’t matter. It must be done. If something is important to me more than to you, I will make sure to make it a burden to you by mentioning it, its urgency, and the dire consequences of not doing it, until you comply. The idea that it may just be less important to you is totally invalid, or if it is less important to you, it’s because you’re thoughtless and/or lazy.

As I look at this I have to chuckle. My poor husband has been through a lot of torment because of this lie. I have treated him according to the lie, and as he is not a “do-er” in the way that I am, it has been torture for him. I am grateful that he has stuck with me, patiently setting boundaries and loving me in spite of my intense desire to Get! Things! Done! Already!!!

Amazingly, the Spirit answered this lie with the same initial statement: “You are the most important thing to Me. The purpose of childhood is learning and growing, which children do automatically. Parents participate in that by modeling, and providing opportunities. Never measure your success as a parent by how hard your children work. Leave the measuring up to me. Sometimes it is ok not to be working. Elijah spent years by the brook Cherith. Rest is a blessed thing (literally). It is a gift, and an opportunity to remember other gifts. To be always busy is to be lonely, tired, frustrated (the work is never done, and the not-always-busy people aren’t helping). Connection requires rest, unplanned time. It is good to slow, to stop. It does not mean you are lazy, ignorant of the work available, or thoughtless/foolish. No one but you is measuring your productivity. You can stop now. And you don’t need to measure your rest either. Just because there are things to do doesn’t mean you ought to be doing them.”

Every time I read this, my spirit takes a deep breath. I am important to God. Apart from my productivity, my behavior. I am loved no matter how I perform. God wants me more than anything I can do for him. Oh Jesus, let Your voice speak with authority above all the others.