The house we are renting went into foreclosure proceedings, so we’re trying to find out if we could buy it. I know that a few months from now we’ll be on the other side of this, either owning the house or having had to move once again. I know that I’ll look back on the next few months and be able to see how God will have worked everything together for our good. Knowing how he has worked things out in some amazing ways in the past helps my faith be stronger and helps me have more peace. I can see growth in consciously setting my mind to trust God and not panic, though the feelings are still there initially and tempt me to give in to my natural human perspective rather than the spiritual outlook the Bible promises we can have. I know that God has provided just the right place for us to live at each stage of our lives, and so I know in my head that if it would be better for us to live somewhere else, that will become clear. But in my heart I honestly hope that this time will prove to be God providing this house to be our home, a place to feel planted in the community we’ve lived in for the past 13 years with hopes that God could use us and this house to find others who are seeking him and build a close-knit “ekklesia/assembly of the called out” (otherwise known as “church”), and a place we can use as a homeplace for our family as our children form their own families. It would be wonderful if they could have the same feeling we had when we used to go to “the Farm” where my husband’s parents lived as our children were growing up–ah, memories!
I’m approaching this time with a new insight into and experience of prayer. A woman who spoke at a seminar recently described how God loves to listen to us. He tells us to talk to him all the time: “Pray continually” (1 Thessalonians 5:17) in my own words that make it real means, “Talk to me all the time, tell me everything! I always want to know what you think and feel!” We all yearn to find a friend who truly could say that to us and mean it. I had a childhood friend in whom I felt that confidence, and when we were pulled apart by circumstances in 6th grade I felt the longing to find that kind of friendship again, but never did. My husband’s friendship comes closest but is not quite the same due to natural male/female differences of perspective, and marriage is a whole different dimension from the kind of platonic friendship I need. All these years later, after reconnecting with that girlfriend through cyberspace, her friendship is so special because I know I can be completely real and honest and rambling with her and she can not only sympathize but also empathize. Having her friendship long-distance made me get past good intentions and take initiative to try to cultivate that with a couple of women from my congregation. I’ve loved feeling the connections and sense of realness and honesty deepen over time. Now one of those friends may move away, which makes me sad, but I’m determined not to let it discourage me from continuing to seek close friendships.
I’ve become more conscious of how deep the longing for that is in me and surely everyone else and how our Heavenly Father–“Abba” as Jesus called on him–“Daddy”/”Papa” in our culture–longs to have that intimate, open, real, moment-by-moment connection and communion and communication. I also realize more how amazing it is that Jesus wanted to be able to not only sympathize but empathize, so he came to earth to experience all the human angst we do. He was the example to us in his relationship with his Abba, in being totally honest, real, dependent, and submissive to him, and especially in longing to spend alone time with him and talking over everything he was going through and decisions he was making.
My conscious effort now is to overcome the barrier that the word “prayer” has put up in me through the years. It’s religious jargon and lingo that gets in the way of experiencing what God is trying to offer. I don’t mind talking about praying, because that’s the easiest way to refer to the idea of talking to God. But in my experience of “praying,”–actually doing it–I no longer want to default to using any phrases such as, “I pray this,” or “Dear God,” or “Dear Father,” etc., which are wordings I’d never use in talking to anyone else. (It goes without saying I never use King James English, and it’s always struck me as ironic that “thee” and “thou” were actually familiar and more personal pronouns back then, like “tu” is in Spanish vs. the more formal “usted,” while those who pray in King James English now use them as more formal language that makes prayer seem artificial and stilted.) I want to cultivate a new default to talk to my–what–“Father”/”Abba”/”Daddy”/”Papa”?–I haven’t settled on that yet. My own Dad was not, sadly, able to offer me the kind of Daddy/daughter experience that would have made it easy to understand the relationship God wants with us. So though I’ve known in my head that I have to overcome that and not let it cripple me in relating to God, it’s been much harder to overcome in practice and I’m realizing that I desperately need to consciously face it and experience what God is trying to offer me as his precious daughter. It’s much harder to move things from my head to my heart than I thought it would be.
Here’s what I want to grasp: God loves me so much that he went to the extreme of planning in advance that his Son would take my place in death so I could experience life as he meant it to be lived, and then Jesus went through carrying out that plan perfectly for 33 years without one time giving in to temptation, even though it was painful both physically and especially spiritually and especially as he was crucified, then ultimately he had victory in coming back to life and going back to heaven to wait for me to arrive home there with him and his Father. Meanwhile he gave me his Spirit to experience eternal spiritual life even here on earth while I wait and get ready for heaven. That is so amazing when I really focus on it, and that’s what I want to consciously remember every day, all day.
Going through this challenging circumstance in my life will help me grow. I’m thankful to realize that my default sense of dread has lessened and I feel more peace and contentment and hope for whatever comes to be good for me in ways that God will make clear down the road. It will be interesting to me to look back on this time to see what that good has proven to be.
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Precious Promises 