Tag: Christianity

Richer Prayer Life in 7 days? (not an ad for SHAMWOW)

Sounds like an info-mmmmercial….

There I said it. It’s out there.

No. It’s not. Nothing to buy here. Slowly unclench your “click away finger.” Breathe deeply.

You are among friends, and not the ones you will find at a used car lot. (Don’t they always seem to act like that?)

:)

I’ve asked some friends to join me in this, but now I pose the invitation to all of you… out “there”… on the interwebs…

Here’s what it’s all about:

I’d like to join with you, and as many of you (pl) as possible, over the next week, to do the prayer exercise from the previous post. The challenge is to encounter this prayer form/exercise/format (what-have-you) I created just 3, or more times, in one week’s time. I hope you really enjoy it. I also hope you can help me, by leaving us your feedback here, (with your comments, thoughts, and insights- both positive, and/or negative).

Just 7 bitty days. Pray 3 times in 7 days. As you give it a try, you can expect it to be about 7 min long. Perhaps, this will increase the more you experience it.

You could probably do that in your sleep, right? But, then, obviously, it would be harder to remember what happened that way, huh? I should have said, “You could do that standing on your head.” I thought about it, and then thought better, because that actually sounded too challenging and so-very ascetic. So, I didn’t want to go there. Whew. I think I really dodged a bullet. hmm.

The next 7 days could be the breakthrough you’ve been hoping for. Let’s find out.

So, won’t you please join me?Read it here.
Bring a friend along, too.

Thank you so much!

I look forward to reading your insights and comments.

Featured Guest Writer: Sarah Cunningham! Free Book/s too.

Sarah has a fresh new book out, and it’s great. Picking Dandelions: A Search for Eden Among Life’s Weeds.

Sarah's new book

I asked her to guest post here, and she also sent me a couple of books to give away! I’m going to be honest and tell you, I’m reading one of them, and I’ll give it away, when I’m ready. I really enjoy Sarah’s writing.

She is also the author of Dear Church: Letters From a Disillusioned Generation, a high school teacher, frequent speaker, wife to Mr. C, mom to Justus, the wonder baby, and keeper of a frenetic (aren’t they all) Jack Russell terrier, Wrigley. This is among many other accomplishments, but I only have so much space, and time, before you click away, with that short attention span of yours. Read here, to learn more, at her site.

If you would like to try for a copy of Picking Dandelions, here’s what to do.

1) Click the link to her website (above).

2) Learn 3 new things about Sarah.

3) Post them in the leave a comment section.

Rules/Tips: You can’t repeat anyone else’s item. (So, hurry, because the first people will get the good ones.) The person with the best eye for detail may be selected, but whimsy will give you bonus points. Go for it!

Sarah Cunningham

Guest Post from SARAH:

On Change

Dear readers of the lovely Lisa Colon Delay.

I’m going to let you in on a little secret.

Just because I wrote a book on change doesn’t mean I’m good at changing.

You might even say I’m bad at it.

Resistance to change is not necessarily a good quality when it comes to faith.

But sometimes I’m lazy.

Not changing just seems easier.

Its easier to view conversion as an event frozen in time, tucked away with Shrinky Dinks, glow worms, and other relics from the 1980s (or whatever decade you came to the faith).

Its more convenient to leave conversion there, during that one shining moment when we turned to God, than to continue to lug the light around where it might inadvertently illuminate things that still need changing.

This is what we tell ourselves anyways.

That its easier to let ourselves off the hook when our flaws rear their heads.

Its easier to protect our pride.

To keep being a little bit controlling.

To insist losing our temper is just the “way we are”.

Changing those sorts of things takes too much energy.

It costs too much.

Not changing is just cheaper.

Or is it?

It sorta depends on how you calculate the cost.

After all, our lack of change is probably costing someone.

Like the people who have to smack into the wall of our pride on a daily basis.

Like the family or friends or co-workers we manipulate.

Like the wounded left in the wake of our temper tantrums.

There is also, of course, the cost to ourselves.

The damage to the life God intended for us.

A life that is a little more scarred, a little more strained, a little more convoluted.

A cheapened version of the life-to-the-full Jesus said he came to bring.

So we sidestep the cost of personal reflection and hard work to confront our flaws.

But do all those times when we cheap-skate change end up being more expensive in the end?

What do you think? Can Christians afford the luxury of unchanged living?

Powerful dramatic performance by amazing youth

My church’s youth drama club did this performance on Sunday. What a special youth group we have.  . .Such a blessing. I watched it with a big lump in my throat. The journey may be hard, but Jesus and his love prevail.

Please post your reactions or responses.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zgi4s3Usjfo]

(Jesus Doll) Oh, no, you didn't… (updated)

 

This “toy” begs a few questions:

Batteries and Holy Spirit included?

Will he be found eating among the trampy Barbies?

If you hold the toy while praying, does it count as an idol?

Can he heal other toys?

If he breaks, will the toy fix itself after 3 days?

What’s your caption, or headline?

Coping with Pain (The ironic strategy)

 

Why are we so often alone in our pain?

 

There is a terrible irony in the typical human’s response to pain.

Emotional, physical, or mental suffering is most often considered personal, or about one’s self, and so it is dealt with on one’s own.

A suffering person, ready to divulge their pain, may say, “This is hard to say out loud,” or “This is difficult to share with people I don’t know that well.” The pain has been internalized, and taken in, stewed.

We all do it. But now I ask “why?” Habit maybe, yet we do terrible jobs of healing ourselves. Our wounds fester and putrefy.

Outside perspectives, and the gracious love of community offer healing we can never find alone.

I wonder if the broken-ness of this world makes us retract. Maybe a flight/flight instinct is at first to simply be self-preservative. In reality, we are not alone, our pain is not unique. But, the shock, and upset sends us into hiding, or a kind of “hunker in the bunker” mode. The bitter stab, the disappointment, or the awfulness of suffering makes us fear, and mistrust, so we give ourselves no option but to withdraw, and go inward, taking the pain with us. It rarely finds a good exit. Then we lick our festering wounds, in solitude, even as we may curl back unnoticed, behind the dumpsters of the very hospital (a situation) that could being healing, comfort, and hope. Don’t we?

Could pain really be something different altogether, and we might just be misapprehending it far too much?

                         Could it be a way to lead us home?

                                       Is it a way to lead us into each others arms, once again?

Those who have been calmed and gained healing, find that healthy community is the surest way to growth, start invigoration, locate meaningful purpose, and heal hurts. How is it that so many of us suffer quietly, and alone, in the margins?

How very strange that together, we suffer alone! The irony is horribly striking. How awful too, I think, that we’ve also missed something big about others who suffer. We too often shoot our wounded, by condemnation or inattention. Or push them out, somehow, into further isolation. How coarse. How morbid. The God who welcomes the outcast, the wounded, the sick, and the sinner, mingles with them, pulls them in, and is close enough to touch their afflictions, and pass them bread.

Let us think of ways to come out of our own sufferings into the light and healing nature of community with others, God has provided. Beyond that, let us reach out to those isolated, or away from us–those silently hurting. Let us understand that they will try to handle their pain themselves, but they cannot. We can kindly be there, to hear them, offer friendship, and love. But most of all, with or without words, reassure them that no one suffers alone, not any more.

Do you have comments about suffering or isolation?

Please contribute.

If you take this to heart, and do something about it, please share that with us. Thank you.