Submitting my enigmas

As a way of observing this Lenten period I am daily reading through Jesus sermon on the mount.  It is fitting then that this weeks chapter of The Furious Love of God steps right into the middle of the Beatitudes.

In the words of Hans Urs Von Balthasar:

Blessed are not the enlightened whose every question has been answered and who are delighted with their own sublime insight, the mature and ripe ones whose one remaining action is to fall from the tree. Blessed, rather, are the chased, the harassed who must daily stand before my enigmas and cannot solve them.

I am not blessed by the quantity of quality of my knowledge.  My blessing comes not from what I know, but Who I know.

I don't want to lean on my own understanding.  I want to give up, give in, surrender to His work, His will, His way.  Jason Gray sings my heart in the song For The First Time Again

I'm tired of the sound of my own voice
And I'm weary of adding to the noise
And I'm fearful of missing the point of it all

 In my limited wisdom it would be easy to miss where God is leading me, I pray that each day I would submit all of my unsolved enigmas to Him.

joining the discussion today at Jason's

 

What is it to believe?

Do I really believe Jesus Is Who He says He Is?
Do I believe the Word that He embodied?
In this week's chapter I read:

Believing is living as though John 15:4 is true. 

ABIDE IN ME, AND I IN YOU. AS THE BRANCH CANNOT BEAR FRUIT OF ITSELF UNLESS IT ABIDES IN THE VINE, SO NEITHER CAN YOU UNLESS YOU ABIDE IN ME.

His voice, quiet, calm, ever calls me
to exchange my life, wretched as it may be
for new life, found in abiding
where He has all, Is all
in that secret place
resting in the shadow of His wings
shelter of His love
where I no longer live
but He lives in me

joining the link up at Sarah's today


 

He first loved us

The Gospel can be summed up by saying that it is the tremendous, tender, 

compassionate, gentle, extraordinary, explosive, revolutionary revelation of Christ’s love. 

Catherine de Hueck Doherty - The Gospel Without Compromise

We, though, are going to love—love and be loved. 

First we were loved, now we love. 

He loved us first.

  1 John 4:19 The Message

His love

crazy, passionate, unceasing love

flows in these veins

we were made for this

to walk as His heart on solid ground

leaving His imprint

where we touch, He touches

light shining to glorify His name

for this we were formed

to this we are called

witnesses, testaments 

to a love greater than all love

talking about His love at Jason's

walking with Emily in all my imperfection

jamming with Bonnie

 

Learning to breathe

This week we're looking at the chapter titled Our Father.  Brennan writes about praying with a nun who was living with profound shame issues:

In the next few minutes, I prayed with her for healing. Then I asked her if she would find a quiet place every morning for the next thirty days, sit down in a chair, close her eyes, upturn her palms, and pray this one phrase over and over: 

ABBA, I BELONG TO YOU.  

It’s a prayer of exactly seven syllables, the number that corresponds perfectly to the rhythm of our breathing. As you inhale—Abba. As you exhale—I belong to You. 

Through her tears she agreed: “Yes, Brennan, I will.” 

One of the most moving and poetic follow-up letters I’ve ever received came from this sister. In it she described the inner healing of her heart, a complete forgiveness of her father, and an inner peace she’d never known in her seventy-eight years. She concluded her letter with these words: A year ago, I would’ve signed this letter with my real name in religious life—Sister Mary Genevieve. But from now on, I’m Daddy’s little girl. 

Be aware, this is not sloppy sentimentality or indulgent wishful thinking. But rather a woman who dared to pray in the childlike trust and deep reverence that Jesus said would mark a disciple, and in doing so discovered the furious love of her Abba. 

At the end of the chapter, Manning issues the following challenge:

Prayerfully consider taking a few moments every day for the next month, closing your eyes, upturning your palms, and praying, “Abba, I belong to You.” Don’t make it anything more than that; trust me, it’s enough. 

The world roars, demanding its full share of attention

and here am I bending beneath the weight of it

sifting and sorting, till exhausted I shrug shoulders, 

lift hands, drop it all

the noise too loud, 

black and white shifting in shades of grey

and He smiles, for with great patience 

He has been waiting for this release

bringing me again and again to this point of surrender

face to face with my need for Him

Inhale, slow

taking in more of Him than I can hope to hold

Exhale, slower

declaring the only truth I know

I belong to Him

Joining the discussion at Sarah's

 

all of me

At the end of Chapter 2 of The Furious Longing of God Brennan Manning posed the following challenge:

There is the “you” that people see and then there is the “rest of you.” Take some time and craft a picture of the “rest of you.” This could be a drawing, in words, even a song. Just remember that the chances are good it will be full of paradox and contradictions.

Here is my response:

I am layer upon layer

stripping to reveal 

only to find more that remains hidden

urban born and raised 

I found refuge and my heart 

on the Canadian prairies

yet city scepticism lingers

I see the way staircases lead down 

more often than as a way to climb up

even though my mind knows I can find rest in my Lord

I often find my thoughts churning, thrashing, 

whirlpools of waves that refuse to be stilled

I choose to focus on the road before me 

and the promises of morning

not dwelling long on all that lies behind

burning with the passion seeded in me

chosen, broken, no longer my own

a new creation learning to abide

to reflect His glory and bear good fruit

and in all my imperfection His love burns bright, unending, as Manning writes:

For His love is never, never, never based on our performance, never conditioned by our moods—of elation or depression. The furious love of God knows no shadow of alteration or change. It is reliable. And always tender.

It may yet take all of my remaining days to truly understand such a love.

Joining Sarah, Jason and others reading Brennan Manning's Furious Longing of God.  Come on over to Jason's to read more posts