Wednesday, January 27, 2010

"The people were filled with expectation..."

Recently, the question, “Well, what did you expect from God?” has settled in and taken up residence in my prayer. God is beginning to reveal to me that my life, as a Christian, is full of expectancy—waiting on the Lord to fulfill His promises, always wondering to a certain extent what He’s about, hoping that He will reveal to me more of Himself. BUT, when I let that expectancy turn into expectation—when I have my heart set on something and begin to demand that God fulfill it the way I want and when I want—then I set myself up to be rather disappointed, frustrated, and probably unfulfilled.

Here’s the difference:

Expectancy involves open hands and an open heart; it’s a posture of waiting, especially waiting for the development of something. There is anticipation and excitement in the unknown, and joy in waiting for what is coming.

To expect something involves an underlying demand that requires fulfillment; so there is always concern about the thing that is expected. There’s always an element of striving, of reaching for something, and never quite feeling fulfilled—so there is usually a lack of freedom and a lack of joy in a waiting that seems to be taking forever.

(Here’s another side-observation: “expectancy” is a noun, whereas “to expect” is a verb. Just one more example that God is all about BEING rather than DOING.)

I’m learning that it is OK—good, even—to have desires. But, oh, how quickly can desires (even holy ones!) turn into expectations if I don’t offer them to Jesus! And then, how quickly can I move from a posture of expectancy to striving and expecting things.

When I start to expect things, it’s easier to believe the lies surrounding my life (nasty little things, always in my periphery...); when some expectation goes unmet, I’m all too ready to believe it’s because I’m not good enough, or not loved, or that I will always be chasing joy that I can’t have (p.s. ALL of those things are false).

But when I stop expecting, give that particular thing to God, and wait, with the expectancy that God will fulfill as He chooses, then He just makes things happen so easily. I mean...ridiculously easily. God just always has a better way, and is continuing to prove to me that He wants to provide. More than that—He doesn’t just want good things for me; HE wants to GIVE them to me. So I’m really trying to not expect things—only receive.


Mary, help my posture be one of expectancy—that I would not expect anything, but receive all things in the joy of receiving them from your Son. Be with me as I wait with expectancy for the Lord to fulfill His promises (like you did!) without knowing when, or how.

Thursday, January 7, 2010

Ring of Fire

I always thought Hananiah, Azariah, and Mishael (also known as Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego) were a little un-relatable—if not downright crazy. Every time Sunday Week One comes up in Liturgy of the Hours (or any major feast day, or the season of Christmas) and we pray through the canticle that starts, “Bless the Lord, all you works of the Lord, praise and exalt him above all forever,” I shake my head in wonder and disbelief; not because “you dolphins and all water creatures” are specifically mentioned, but because

THEY ARE IN THE MIDDLE OF A FURNACE OF FIRE!!!!

What an incredibly bold prayer—and how much pure faith these three men needed to pray it! Sometimes I forget that fact; I read Scripture stories like this one and think something along the lines of, “oh, that’s nice. They wanted everything to bless the Lord.” But that’s not the point. The point is, they were blessing God when they had nothing left, when according to all appearances and assumptions they would soon be dead, when everyone thought that there was no hope left for them, no chance, no reason to bless God. That’s gutsy. That’s what saints are made of. The more I started realizing what an amazing act of faith this was, the more I thought it was far beyond my understanding; I would never be able to attain that level of faith and trust.

So I started praying for those things. A word of advice to anyone who is thinking about praying something along the lines of “God, help me to trust you more,” or, “God increase my faith”: MEAN IT. Here’s the danger of praying like that: God listens. And He is more than ready to answer. God doesn’t skimp out on answering those prayers, because it’s exactly what He wants for and from us—for us to trust Him completely, to unite ourselves to Him—but it’s not going to look like anything you expected or hoped for. The reason I say it’s dangerous is because of how God answers; He doesn’t just give you faith or trust or love or hope (well, I’m sure He might for some people. I should say, He doesn’t just give those things to me). Instead, God gives an opportunity to love more, or to have more faith, or to trust more in Him. And that is something infinitely more blessed, but incredibly harder.

The real fire, the real furnace, that Hananiah, Azariah, and Mishael were in the middle of was the fire of God’s love; of Him presenting them with an opportunity to prove their trust in Him, to make a ridiculously bold act of faith, to love God no matter what happened externally, to hope in His promises even when everyone else and all their circumstances were telling them not to. That calls to mind the chorus of a song by Shane and Shane:

“Burn us up, burn us up, burn us up; oh King, oh won’t you burn us in the furnace of your desire? We give up, we give up, we give up; oh King, oh won’t you burn us in the furnace of your desire? Won’t you throw us in the fire?”

In the song, that chorus is sung by the 3 young men in address to King Nebuchadnezzar; and while that’s really powerful, even more amazing is that those words are really a prayer crying out to God—the King. And I have (strangely, amazingly) found myself praying that same prayer lately. I think I’m beginning to understand Hananiah, Azariah, and Mishael a little bit more (never thought I would say that, but there it is…). I’m by no means faced with the choice to jump in an actual furnace as a test of my faith in God; but every day God does ask me to make another act of faith, a conscious choice to trust in His plans for me, even as I don’t understand them. I can’t say I like it (fire burns!) but I know that with each minute I stay within that purifying flame of God’s love, He is melting away all in me that is not of Him:

“For he is like the refiner’s fire, or like the fuller’s lye. He will sit refining and purifying silver, and he will purify the sons of Levi, refining them like gold or like silver that they may offer due sacrifice to the Lord. Then the sacrifice of Judah and Jerusalem will please the Lord…” (Malachi 3:2-4).

That’s where the joy of being in the furnace of fire comes from—the reason those 3 holy young men are able to call upon everything in Heaven, on Earth, and under the earth to bless the Lord. There is joy in being tested in the fire of God’s love, in knowing that He is working at getting rid of all the obstacles that stand in the way of me having a deeper relationship with Him, that He is strengthening me and calling me to something infinitely greater than I can imagine or do by myself. It is painfully beautiful. It is bittersweet. It is a sacrificial blessing. And I wouldn’t change a minute of it. Through the struggle, through the questions, through the doubt, through the immense effort it takes to be able to keep on praying, “Lord, I trust you and your will for my life,” I am being made more pure and beautiful—a sacrifice worthy of the Lord—more strong and sure and confident every day of my need for Him and His provision for me.

So burn me up, oh King; won’t you throw me in the fire?

More coffee?

Today, Amanda and Danielle ended up sitting around the breakfast table for hours sharing different things God’s been revealing to them—turns out, God had a lot to say to each one of them through the other. Here’s a peek into their conversation:

Danielle: So I’ve been praying lately about the idea of being pursued…and I think I came to kind of a revelation today.
Amanda: Do tell.
D: OK. So this is going to be “Danielle pouring her heart out time.” Get. Ready.
A: Hold on a second (pause. Amanda sits back in her chair, closes her eyes, and opens her hands). OK. I’m ready.
D: (laughs) OK, so I’m beginning to realize that I have the whole definition of “pursuit” all wrong. We talk a lot about being pursued, especially as women—and I think that’s good, and from God. We were made to be pursued in a lot of ways—humanity, as a whole, is being pursued by God, like Hosea says: “So I will allure her; I will lead her into the desert and speak to her heart” (2:16. Editor’s note: “her” being Israel…and then, by extension, all of God’s people.) The problem is, we talk about being “pursued” in a holy way, but we’re really just living with the expectation of being pursued in the world’s terms.
A: Yeah, when we think of being pursued we’re expecting flowers, candy, grand gestures…like we’re all waiting to be “swept off our feet.”
D: Exactly. Sometimes I get caught up in focusing too much on those externals, and being dissatisfied when they’re not a part of my life. I think that those things are what I want—but in reality, that’s a lie. The world tells us that we should be made to “feel” like we’re worthy, we’re loved, we’re worth fighting for by what someone does—that our senses and our emotions should be pursued. But the TRUTH is that it’s our hearts—our souls—that are worth fighting for, and being pursued means we are loved the way we need to be loved, instead of being loved the way we want to be loved.
A: Gosh. That’s so true! If I really want to let go of my old way of thinking, to really live with Christ, and trust Him to fulfill my desires, I can’t just cling to the same old things I’ve always desired—the things of the world—and put Christian terms on them. Christ is not going to give me the things of the world, the things I don’t really need, the things that don’t satisfy my heart. If I define my wanting to be pursued in terms of what it looks like in the movies, it will just turn into something unhealthy. It will become really confusing: all of a sudden, saying “I’m pursuing you” is like saying the magic words, and I could think “oh, this is holy, this is right, this is how it’s supposed to be;” when, in reality, I’m still being pursued in the world’s terms and not in Christ’s terms.
D: Oh yeah! I prayed about that this morning! The reading for Mass was from 1 John, and this line just struck a chord for me: “Children, let us love not in word or speech, but in deed and truth” (3:18). I’m beginning to realize that really being pursued in a way that’s from God is going to look DIFFERENT—in the fullness of what being pursued actually means—and that difference is good, it’s real, and it’s what authentic love looks like. All the externals are insignificant. There have been times in my life, and in the lives of people I know, where all the right words were there, all the right “grand gestures,” as you called them, but underneath, there was nothing. We think we want someone flying across the world to stand on our doorstep to surprise us, but what we really want is someone who is not going through the motions, someone who loves you for who you are, someone who leads you to God and not himself.
A: Mmmm. Yeah. I think sometimes we’re scared that love won’t come along, and so we settle for less.
D: Yeah, and we sell out for what the world has to offer instead of waiting for what God has to give us.
A: And God wants to give us so much! It’s like what Father Roland was talking about the other day—God doesn’t call us to just survive; he wants us to live abundantly!
D: “I came so that they might have life and have it more abundantly” (John 10:10).
A: Yes! And not just in Heaven! Not just in the life to come, but in this life too! That’s been in my prayer lately and it just blows me away. I always thought about God rewarding us in Heaven, but that’s only the half of it. We have to believe—I mean, because He tells us!—that He has good things for us and He wants to give them to us NOW. He wants us to live a blessed life. We’re afraid to give up the things we think we want…but when we give everything to God and let Him purify our desires, then He can really give us the things He wants to give us, the things He has prepared for us, the things that satisfy. (Editor’s note: this is a paraphrase of Mark 10:17-31. Check it out).
D: Oh my gosh! You need to hear this part of Malachi—this Scripture just keeps coming up and it talks exactly about that: “Bring the whole tithe into the storehouse, that there may be food in my house, and try me in this, says the Lord of hosts: Shall I not open for you the floodgates of heaven, to pour down blessing upon you without measure?” (3:10, emphasis added). Blessing without measure! Floodgates of Heaven! That’s crazy. God is sitting there, waiting to fulfill us, but He wants us to bring the “whole tithe,” all of ourselves—not just part of ourselves, but ALL OF US—to Him first. And He says, “try me in this,” like, “go ahead, try and prove me wrong; just see if when you give me everything I don’t bless you.”
A: Yeah, we have to believe that when God says things like that, He means them. It doesn’t mean that we won’t have struggles in our lives; it doesn’t mean that life is a walk in the park…but when He says He wants us to have life and have it abundantly, He means it! He doesn’t want us to settle for just having enough, for just scraping by; He wants us to be blessed.
D: Amen. And that ties back into the idea of being pursued. God is constantly calling us to more—to give more, but also to receive more. The beauty is not just that God wants so much from us, but that He chases after us to give us more than we ever imagined in return.
A: It’s like when we finally stop running and He catches up to us, He says “OK, are you finally ready to see what I have for you?”
D: And we have to trust that whatever He’s going to give us is going to be what we need, even if it’s not exactly what we think we want.
A: (pause) Well. That clears that up.
D: Thanks, God!

God, thank you for revealing yourself to humanity, for being a God who is truly with us. Help us to stop grasping at what we think we want and give everything to you. God, we trust you with all of our desires; we offer them to you, along with all our fears, our worries, our hopes, our plans, our expectations. Purify our hearts, Lord, so that we may more fully and freely receive what you have in store for us. Amen.

Oh, look! It’s lunchtime…