Practically Speaking: Light a Candle

Remember the times we strike a match to light a candle as we mark an event:

• Eucharist and liturgical,
• Paschal and baptismal,
• Wedding and ceremony,
• Emergency and storm,
• Romantic dinner,
• Birthday cake.

Can you think of other times?  Lighting a candle is soulful, a deliberate ritual that causes thoughtful pause.  Bring this simple act into your daily reminds that ordinary is extraordinary.  Breathe.  God is here, right now.  His light shines in the darkness. Out of the chaos of darkness, He created order.  Not only can you see a candle burn, if you are completely quiet, you can hear a candle burn. 

Try bringing this sweet practice into your family time.  Kids thrive on ritual, on setting aside special time.  Wait until all are ready to sit at the table for dinner, then have someone light a candle.  A moment of quiet brings attention to the now that is being shared.  Or, try lighting a candle for prayer time.  Especially for children (or ADD adults!), it helps to focus our hearts and minds on one object, to quiet wandering minds and worried thoughts, opening our eyes to see.  

Each time you light a candle, remember the romance and thrill of all the extra special times candles are lit: celebrating new life, celebrating communion, celebrating vows.

Ironically, as I write this, its Friday afternoon when our spiritual cousins are making preparations for Sabbath.  When the table candles are lit, the past week's worries, routine, and ordinariness are marked past.  For a single day, the all-sufficiency of God's grace is celebrated.  The mere idea is romantic and idyllic, even if it sometimes requires discipline and focus to not work.  Claim this sweet ritual as your own, strike a match and be in God's presence.

Practically Speaking: Wrestling Sunrise Doubts

This is a picture of a Smoky Mountain sunrise. Not long ago, I wouldn't have recognized such abnormality, because I most definitely am not a morning person. When my sweet husband began going to work at 5:30AM each day (the middle of the night, I'm thinking), I felt this guilty tug when I didn't hit the ground running with him. Then, I realized a few other fears:

• Will I die if I get up that early?
• What happens if I finish my to-do list? 
• How will it feel to wait three hours before little feet hit the floor?
• How early will I have to go to bed in the evening?
• What if I start inventing jobs just to be "busy"?

Bottom line: why NOT get up at 5:30AM?

Granted, I don't get up that early every day. Striving for faithfulness, not perfection. But now that I'm wrestling with these fears, I'm finding it to be very good. This weird season of having little heavy stress and wide spans of open time has revealed a lot of unsettled peace that I've needed to hash. Its good to wrestle. First thing in the morning. God is very now-here, in this very moment, even when it is so quiet I'm a little lost and wandering.

Living in the Now: Being Present

Living in the "now" is a good wrestle; tiring, molding, and satisfying. My "now" spans boundless time, days on end, carrying very little stress, and bringing constant quiet. My past, pounding to-do list has shaped me much more than I realized. At first, I thought that I had forgotten how to be fully present, how to breathe worship. On second thought, maybe I never found that heart.

For me, its tough not to live in the past; those experiences that have shaped. Its difficult to not live in the future; those possibilities that are unknown. I hide in piling on the projects, reorganizing that closet for the umpteenth time, and refining some sort of method. Right now, the "now-here" is where God has placed me. Saying this out loud is one thing, but claiming peace while speaking it has been a tough chew.

Journey with me. Let go of the habitual thinking of, "Wow, it must be nice to be YOU....". We cheapen each other's journey in this thought. Worse, we discount our own.

My prayer is to be here, now--which asks me to look full into the face of Christ, to see His passion for me, to see His heart, to trust completely. Lord, grant me the courage to be in the now-here, with fullness of heart. Teach me to abide.

Living in the Now: Waiting and Listening

As I'm in the midst of this Advent season, I'm creating space to be in God's presence fully--as in, rested, alert, and fully present. I'm a bit like the disciples who kept falling asleep in the garden, who physically weren't ready for the battle. I bet their hands were full with working several jobs, juggling a house full of sons and daughters, keeping up with festivals down at the synagogue, and planning for the future. I'm pretty sure they were a lot like me. After a heavy meal, they couldn't keep their eyes open in the peace and quiet of the garden. They were literally sleep walking. Me too. 

Practically, I'm going to bed earlier. Emotionally, I'm shutting off electronics and "people" earlier in the evening (one day, I promise to return your email). Spiritually, I'm simplifying what surrounds me, and what I allow to distract me from the Shepherd's voice. I'm waiting and listening. And staying awake a little bit longer.