His furious longing displayed

In the last chapter of his book The Furious Longing of God, Brennan Manning writes:

These are moments of truth. You are alone with The Alone. God’s tender feelings for you are no longer dry knowledge. You experience a certainty of God’s longing for intimacy unlike anything you’ve felt in hand-clapping worship or anointed Scripture studies.

I have known such moments and I hold fast to them in memory.

I had been praying one night about ten years ago, asking the Lord to show me His love in a tangible way. The next morning, while still in bed, again during my quiet time of prayer, with one of my cats curled up beside me, I could feel God’s arm around me. I remember telling the cat “We’re not going to move, God is holding us.” Some years later I was talking with the Lord and reminded Him about how He put His arm around me. I could sense Him laughing as He replied “My arm? My child, that was just my little finger.” I thought, of course, He is so very big, I would fit in the palm of His hand.

His love is vast, unimaginable, an ocean I will gladly surrender to and drown in.

linking with the gang at Sarah's place

also walking with the broken, imperfect redeemed at Emily's


 

less of me

This week we're looking at the chapter Giving in Brennan Manning's Furious Longing of God

The gospel is absurd and the life of Jesus is meaningless unless we believe that He lived, died, and rose again with but one purpose in mind: to make brand-new creations. Not to make people with better morals, but to create a community of prophets and professional lovers, men and women who would surrender to the mystery of the fire of the Spirit that burns within, who would live in ever greater fidelity to the omnipresent Word of God, who would enter into the center of it all, the very heart and mystery of Christ, into the center of the flame that consumes, purifies, and sets everything aglow with peace, joy, boldness, and extravagant, furious love. This, my friends, is what it really means to be a Christian. Our religion never begins with what we do for God. It always starts with what God has done for us, the great and wondrous things that God dreamed of and achieved for us in Christ Jesus.

mold me
in your image
in the heat of the flames
I am drawn to that mystery
the place of absorbtion
where who I am
melts into All You Are
more of You
all I need is more of You
and less of me
less of me
less

That’s why my cup is running over. This is the assigned moment for him to move into the center, while I slip off to the sidelines. John 3:30 The Message

Joining Sarah and Jason today at Jason's place

 

Bold in love

In the chapter titled Bold Brennan Manning writes:

It is natural to feel fear and insecurity when confronted with the radical demands of the Christian commitment. But enveloped in the lived truth of God’s furious love, insecurity is swallowed up in the solidity of agape, and anguish and fear give way to hope and desire.

How much time have I wasted

worrying that I am not good enough

running from the truth

that indeed I can never be good enough

and He knows, has always known

and if I could but remember

it doesn't change an iota of His great love

I could run into surrender with full abandon

and greater joy

did His first disciples know this without knowing

when they dropped their nets and followed Him?

May my love grow wide and wild

reckless and complete.

continuing on with Sarah and Jason

 

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