Category: Meditations & Meanderings

Posted in Meditations & Meanderings, Thoughts from Life

I Don’t Want To

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

One of my summer goals was to reinstate a habit of writing. Some weeks were good, others not so much. But, I’m seeing progress. I’m also seeing, though, that it’s not always about having time for a habit. Sometimes, it’s about pushing through a bad case of “I don’t want to.” We’ve probably all faced that, in one way or another, in this strange year we’re experiencing. Here are some thoughts that came from an “I don’t want to” day a couple of weeks ago…

Today I have a few minutes to write. Lunch is an easy prep since I’m just warming up soup that’s already in the fridge, celebrating an August day in the 80s (not at all a norm for an Arkansas summer). And I just completed another course to prepare for our official homeschool start in two weeks. Almost to that finish line! So, I have time to sit down and write a few hundred words.

The problem is, I don’t want to. It’s not the out-of-habit issue that leads to staring at a blank screen, although it has been a couple of weeks since I’ve written regularly. It’s just that, emotionally, I don’t want to hash through what’s in my head.

That’s the thing about healthy habits. (And yes, for me, writing is a healthy habit.) A healthy habit — and a healthy lifestyle — insists that we confront our thoughts, emotions, struggles, and successes head-on. We have to think about them. Deal with them. Not just every now and then, but day after day after day without fail.

Even the simplest healthy habit like brushing my teeth daily makes me aware of the health of my teeth. How are they doing? What do I need to do to keep them healthier? Improve their health? Maybe I don’t consciously run through these questions every time, but the evaluation is there.

But some of the healthy habits are more in-your-face than others. Like writing. With writing, I have to process my thoughts. I have no choice. And sometimes I just don’t want to.

A habit, by nature and definition, makes the decision for us. My habit every morning is to get up, put on exercise clothes, work through a weight routine, and then go walking. The decision is made. I don’t make the decision to do all of that every morning. The habit makes the decision for me. If I do not go through that routine, then I’m making the decision not to. And that takes more effort, because then I have to rethink the flow and routine of my morning. So, as much as I do not enjoy setting the alarm early enough to get up and exercise — nor do I like the exercise itself — it’s more of a hassle to have to decide what to do with my messed-up morning. So, I exercise.

As a result, I face the health realities connected to my need for exercise head-on. Day in and day out. My weight. My eating habits. My overall health. All tied to that habit.

The writing habit, in turn, decides for me that I will deal with the cacophony of thoughts in my head. And that’s a good thing. Because when I let them pile up, they wreak havoc. They cause stress and depression. They magnify uncertainty and strengthen confusion. It’s work enough to deal with them on a daily basis. But, when they pile up? It’s downright exhausting! So, I need a habit to decide that I’m going to write, whether I want to or not.

Of course, destructive habits are no different. We have good intentions, but if our habits are unhealthy, they make the decisions for us. And our “want to” struggles to stand against them. It’s not hopeless. We can break destructive habits and build healthy ones with will power. But, if we don’t apply that will power, our habits will win. They will make the decisions.

May we always be aware of our habits. Of our healthy ones and our destructive ones. Of the evaluations they force us to make. Of the power they hold over our lives. Because when it comes down to it, our habits — not our “want tos” — are what truly shape us. What shape do we want?

Posted in Meditations & Meanderings, Thoughts from Life

Questions Without Answers

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

“Question for you,” my husband or I will say to one another. Or it may even come from someone else. A child. A parent. A friend. A church member.

“Answer for you,” comes the inevitable response. At least, we hope there’s an answer.

There’s something incredibly satisfying about being confident in our ability to answer a question. It means we’re knowledgeable about something (always a confidence booster), able to make a decision (extremely edifying for those of us who struggle to make decisions), or able to be of help to someone (Who doesn’t enjoy that?).

Of course, when we are the ones with the questions, we also want the answers to be forthcoming. Typically when I ask a question of my husband or children or anyone else, I might not need an answer immediately. But I definitely want them to ponder, evaluate, consider, research, explore, or whatever and get back with me at some point. We ask questions because, ultimately, we want answers.

And this is where spiritual growth gets tricky. Because sometimes we ask questions that only God can answer. And many times it feels that He is a little vague or dodgy with the answer.

I can’t read Scripture without clearly seeing the number of times God’s clear answers were delayed or obscured in some way. And when He was clear and quick, it was often in discipline, not in response to the heart cries of a truly searching servant. From Job to Abraham to Joseph to the prophets to the disciples to Paul, there is incident after incident of God requiring His servants to wait. To trust. To learn slowly.

This truth is clear in my own life as well. I look at what I know now and see how much of it has come, not from beautiful moments of quick illumination, but from long and hard study. From waiting. From asking question after question after question, layering one on top of the other until I don’t really remember where I started—I just know that the search never seems to end.

Reading what I just wrote makes the process seem so very daunting. Completely overwhelming. And not at all reassuring. Can we really be motivated to ask if one request seems to pile into many? If the answers never seem clear and forthcoming?

Yes. Yes, we can. And here’s why. First, Jesus told us to ask. (See Matthew 7 or Luke 11. Or go back even further to see God’s instruction to Solomon in 1 Kings 3.) That’s reason enough.

But there’s more. If we really stop and look both through Scripture and our own lives, we see that there is so much more to God’s provision and work in us than just straightforward answers. He works truth. He works understanding. He works growth. He works His will. He works Himself into our lives. And through the process, though it may take so much longer than we care to endure, we do receive those answers. But when they come, they come with fullness of life and with meaning and with purpose instead of just as simple answers to questions. They answer much more than we could ever have imagined.

More often than not, my journal holds questions without answers. The beginning of yet another search, even as I am still in the middle of older searches. Even as I continue to journal through previous questions that have only received partial answers. Clues lead me to the next step, but the old questions seem unending. The new questions seem unanswerable.

But, I have learned to go ahead and ask them. To go ahead and write down the questions that I know will not be answered today. Or tomorrow. Probably even this year. Maybe even this decade. But they still must be asked. Because the journey to the answer means more than the answer itself. The journey points me to Christ. The ultimate Answer. And the more I ask, the more I get to know Him.

Seems like incredible motivation to me.

Posted in Faith Nuggets, Meditations & Meanderings

Ministry of the Spirit

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

Now if the ministry that brought death, chiseled in letters on stones, came with glory, so that the Israelites were not able to gaze steadily at Moses’s face because of its glory, which was set aside, how will the ministry of the Spirit not be more glorious? – 2 Corinthians 3:7-8

I often look at the Old Testament and say, “What if we could experience that.” They had waters parted and dead raised to life and old women bearing children. Or perhaps the Gospels. Jesus’ physical presence. After all, I’m a tangible, visual person. Would it not be more glorious, more wonderful, to be in His physical presence?

Paul says no.

According to Paul, nothing this side of heaven is more glorious than what we have now…the ministry of the Holy Spirit. Read what else Paul has to say about this glory…

For if the ministry that brought condemnation had glory, the ministry that brings righteousness overflows with even more glory. In fact, what had been glorious is not glorious now by comparison because of the glory that surpasses it. For if what was set aside was glorious, what endures will be even more glorious.
Since, then, we have such a hope, we act with great boldness. We are not like Moses, who used to put a veil over his face to prevent the Israelites from gazing steadily until the end of the glory of what was being set aside, but their minds were hardened. For to this day, at the reading of the old covenant, the same veil remains; it is not lifted, because it is set aside only in Christ. Yet still today, whenever Moses is read, a veil lies over their hearts, but whenever a person turns to the Lord, the veil is removed. Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. We all, with unveiled faces, are looking as in a mirror at the glory of the Lord and are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory; this is from the Lord who is the Spirit. 2 Corinthians 3:9-17

We live under “the ministry that brings righteousness,” the most profound ministry possible. Righteousness! You and I are righteous because of this ministry of the Spirit! Not because of temporary sacrifices laid out by a stone-chiseled law, but because a once-for-all blood sacrifice sealed our victory over death and paved the way for the presence of the Spirit. That ministry. Is that not glorious?

But, Paul doesn’t stop there. He goes on to say that we will “act with great boldness.” Aha. There’s the kicker.

We act.

Do I act? Do you act? Do we truly live as though we are in the age of the glorious ministry of the Spirit? Or do we wish for the old, imperfect ministry of the law? Do we walk as if we have received the perfection of fulfilled righteousness? Or do we stayed weighed down as though trapped in imperfection?

I won’t deny that we are still encumbered by this world. It’s a hard world. And we long for the purity of heaven. But, we don’t have to wait for the perfection of righteousness. We don’t have to wait for the fulfillment of the ministry of the Spirit. We get those right here. Right now.

Your kingdom come, Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven. The ministry of the Spirit.

Will we act on it?

Posted in Faith Nuggets, Meditations & Meanderings, Thoughts from Scripture

A Real Passion

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

Several months ago, I was looking for an image to add to a blog post when I came upon this precious image of a child reading an old, battered Bible. Although the image did not fit the post I was preparing to publish, I couldn’t help but save the picture anyway. It was beautiful, and I wanted to use it someday.

There are so many reasons this image struck me. The child with his scrunched up little forehead trying to read the words in front of him (probably still in Isaiah, based on the way the pages are slightly visible). The wear and tear on the paper cover. The way the pages are crisp despite their yellowing, indicating that this Bible is more old than worn. So many little details releasing so many thoughts in my heart and mind.

Above all of these thoughts, though, rose a passion. I never fail to feel deep excitement when I see someone connecting with the Word of God, whether it’s a small child trying to decipher the words of that big book lying around the house or an adult seeing an old truth with new eyes. Excitement abounds when my children share something new they have discovered in Scripture. Delight overflows when the girls in my Sunday school class ask questions about what they’ve read in the Bible. Joy fills my heart when I get to be a part of a Bible study where others truly want to engage and dig and explore and learn and grow.

That simple picture reminded me of that excitement and that joy.

But here’s the thing: our natural inclination is not to seek out those opportunities for engagement. We may say we have a passion for Scripture and that we want others to engage as well. But, it’s too easy to fall into phases of life when our passion looks a little too much like the Bible in the picture. Worn, yes, but not from loving use. Instead, simply worn from being around for a while. Familiar because of its presence, not because we’ve plumbed its depths. We engage when the opportunity presents itself, much like this Bible is read when a child just happens to pick it up, open it to the middle, and try to decipher the good old King James translation of what the prophets had to say.

That’s not how I want my passion to look.

If I say I love the Word of God, I have to act on it. I have to read it. And, I do. I started the habit as a child. I’ve been more diligent about it in some seasons than in others, and there are times I still struggle with the discipline of being truly attentive to what I’m reading each morning. But, I know it’s worth it to work on that discipline. To be diligent. To make an effort to wear my Bibles out.

My passion to see others connect with God’s Word has to be just as intentional. It has to be active. I can’t just plan to happen upon it now and then. Instead, I have to actively engage my children in discussion about what they read. I have to structure Sunday school in a way that will encourage my students to ask questions. I have to seek out opportunities to study Scripture with fellow believers.

A passion with worn edges but no real internal use is a false passion. It’s a sweet picture that is completely posed. But God knows the truth. He sees the little clues that reveal my lack of intentionality. And, because He is Truth, He will work to reveal those clues until I recognize that it’s time to get real.

Guess what. It’s time to get real.

Posted in Faith Nuggets, Thoughts from Life

Unharried

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

It was a lovely Saturday morning. The chilly breeze blowing in through open windows offered a delicious contrast to the humid, oppressive heat that is typical of the last days of an Arkansas summer. The sound of rain against leaves and the roof provided one of my favorite auditory backdrops, and I wanted nothing more than to just sit there and soak up the beauty. Although my ultimate preference would have been to find a covered porch and a good book to enjoy on that delightful day, I found myself enjoying even the prospect of tackling a work day with the coolness and sounds of rain flooding the “office.”

Although Saturdays aren’t normal, routine work days in the Hibbard household, they are still full. Some are filled with outside obligations. Those that aren’t still produce full lists. School prep for the new week. Finishing up any remaining work hours from the previous week. Fitting in any yard or housework that needs to be done. Working in any ministry and writing tasks that didn’t fit naturally into the week before. It’s the catch-all day, and that can sometimes make Saturday even more intense that a typical work day! Unfortunately, that can leave me somewhat harried as I head into Sunday and launch a brand new week.

It’s funny how God embraces me on all sides with lessons He wants me to learn, and one of the lessons He started teaching me last year (and is still working into my heart and mind) is connected to that harried feeling. This lesson is a natural follow-through to what He’s been teaching me about Sabbath rest for years now. It’s the realization that there is no true rest one day a week if I live the rest of the week in a state of maxed-out rush. I’ve long known this reality, but I haven’t truly known what to do about it. We live in such a rush-rush world. Full investment. Full engagement. Full planners. Full lives. That’s our culture. How do we keep our commitments, maintain productivity at work, and truly engage this lost world if we slow down at all? Is that not laziness? Sloth? Unproductivity? The opposite of all that is good and exemplary?

I still don’t really have an answer to that question, although I learned much through my studies of James and 1 & 2 Peter last year. And, books I’ve already mentioned like An Unhurried Life and Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World that Can’t Stop Talking have helped me consider practical aspects of the changes that need to be made in my life.

But, in all honesty, I recall even now how that cool, rainy morning enabled me to get a glimpse, for the first time, of what it looks and feels like to tackle a full day with an unhurried, unharried mentality. No less work. No fewer tasks. But a mind of calmness and peace.

The realization is rather convicting. I was incredibly relaxed and peaceful on that delightful fall morning because the weather and the physical conditions of the day met my preferences. It was easy that day to be thankful for my office with many windows (a room which now serves as my daughters’ bedroom). It was easy to let the cool air wrap around me and chill me and leave me feeling wonderfully energized for the tasks ahead. But what about when the heat returned? Or when the days turned cold and cloudy with no nourishment of sweet rain or even beautiful snow? When being unharried and unhurried would require more work? That’s where I am hit hard with the realization that I do not submit myself fully to the rest and peace of my Savior. In sinfulness, I attach rest to a specific set of circumstances. Hebrews 4 tells me Christ Himself is to be my rest. The guilt of my idolatry makes plain why I cannot seem to escape a harried life, even with all I’ve learned about Sabbath rest – I connect rest to environment, not Christ.

I wish I could say that I can flipped a switch and automatically took the revelation of that beautiful Saturday into each new week, immediately implementing an unhurried, unharried approach. But, that’s not the way growth works. I still have to actively learn how to live this out – yes, even months later, I’m still working on it! How to take the ease of a perfect day’s peace and rest and choose to engage in it when it’s not so easy. That day, though, was a lightbulb moment. A day when I recognized the conviction and training of the Holy Spirit. An Ebenezer I can look back on and remember as I move forward into a life of increasing rest and peace, as I am doing even now.

Oh, precious Lord, may I learn the lesson diligently, no matter how long it takes!

Posted in Thoughts from Scripture

Psalm 2

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

Last week, I mentioned how persistence opened up beauty and wisdom in Psalm 2 that I’d never seen before. I hinted at the light that switched on in my mind, but I didn’t go into details. This week, I want to share just a glimpse – just a taste of what I saw in those verses and what has spurred me on as I’ve continue to work methodically through Psalms.

Throughout the week, I acknowledged the angst found in Ps 2:1-3. This is a hymn of frustration about the state of the world – one that rings with familiar tones as we compare it to those our hearts tend to sing today, over three thousand years later. Nations still rage and kings and rulers still plot in vain. The world is a mess, and we have to deal with it. Even so, we can chuckle when we get to verse four and see the Almighty King of kings laughing at them. He mocks their supposed wisdom and planning and scheming. He reminds them that they’re not really in charge like they think they are. And He promises to send His Son to rule over them.

These observations were nothing new to me – I’ve noticed them every time I’ve read this psalm over the years. But as I wrapped up this particular week of reading and rereading, it was as if blinders fell off, revealing a new layer of beauty. I suddenly saw God’s response in verses 4-6 as a comfort instead of simply a statement of His mockery. How can such things be comforting? Well, when looking at this passage in light of the whole of Scripture – in light of the fulfillment of the promise to grant the nations as an inheritance to the Son – I remember that I belong to this Lord who sits in the heavens. I may be under the temporary authority of worldly rulers, but the King of kings, Lord of lords, and Ruler of rulers truly knows me. I am not relevant to His power. I am not critical to the accomplishment of His will. He works through me simply because He chooses to, not because He needs to. I may not be relevant to His success, but I’m relevant to Him and included in His plan.

I’m in awe. Not at all because any of this is about me, but because I am so very often distracted by those insignificant, temporary rulers of this world. Those who will ultimately be “shatter[ed] like earthenware.”

The greatest beauty is revealed in the final verses.

Now therefore, O kings, show discernment;
Take warning, O judges of the earth.
Worship the Lord with reverence
And rejoice with trembling.
Do homage to the Son, that He not become angry, and you perish in the way,
For His wrath may soon be kindled.
How blessed are all who take refuge in Him! (Ps 2: 10-12)

Is that not a perfect prayer for those in authority? Is it not a powerful way to lift up our rulers, asking that the Ruler over them all open their hearts to help them show discernment, take warning, worship Him, rejoice, and do homage? Should it not be my heart’s cry that they be saved rather than perish? That they be blessed rather than falling to His wrath?

Yet in my distraction, I rarely have prayed in such a way for the temporary rulers of this world. I’ve been frustrated by them, filled with angst because of them, and discouraged by them. My prayers have been more imprecatory than a cry for their salvation.

After progressing from a point of limited understanding to a sense of great comfort, my final awareness was one of deep conviction regarding my own sin of neglect and need for change.

This is what God’s Word accomplishes in us. It shows us the truth about the world in which we live. It shows us the truth about ourselves – both in comfort and in conviction. But, above all, it continually teaches us more about who God is: the one who is never thwarted by the temporary rulers of this world. It draws us to respond, not because of what we learn about this world or ourselves, but because of what we learn about Him.

Posted in Faith Nuggets, Meditations & Meanderings

The Persistence of Listening

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

I’ve long claimed to love the Psalms. And I do. Well, some of them, at least.

When I say that I love to read Psalms, the truth is that I love to read the beautiful ones. The passages that overwhelm my passions and help me see the glory of God so much more clearly. The passages that restart my stilted prayer life. Those beautiful poems that reflect my angst and remind me to move on to praise. Yes, I love those portions of Psalms.

Toward the end of 2018, I started a new, daily exploration of Psalms. But this time, I don’t intend to read a passage every day until I’m done. This time, my intention is to spend a week on each psalm, simply reading it for the first couple of days, then spending the remainder of each week exploring the deeper nuances of the psalm.

Psalm 1 was lovely, as always. I never tire of the exploration of the “tree firmly planted by streams of water,” and I thoroughly enjoyed spending a week relishing the beauty of this psalm. But then it was time to move on to Psalm 2. And Psalm 2, on the surface, just doesn’t have quite the ring of Psalm 1. It’s good. It’s powerful. But, it’s not quite a personally nourishing as the first entry in the book. At least, on the surface.

On the first day of that week, I read Psalm 2 with enthusiasm, riding the excitement of the previous week. Day 2 was much less enthusiastic. By day 3, I was tempted to go ahead and move on. Was a full week really necessary? I hadn’t made a commitment to anyone – just created a plan for myself. Why must I stick to a week? After all, it would take a long time to process through the entirety of Psalms at that pace.

But I stuck with it. I kept pouring through Psalm 2 with diligence. And finally, at the end of the week, the diligence paid off.

Somehow, a light switched on in my head and heart, and I began to see nourishment and relevance and power in Psalm 2 – things I’d never noticed before.

Now I cannot read Psalm 2 without being deeply moved. Now each word seems obvious in its passion and relevance. It seems hard to believe that it took days of reading and rereading to see this depth. But, that is the nature of our hearts. Our minds. Our spirits. Often they are closed to even the most obvious until we take the time to intentionally listen.

But we don’t listen. We rush. We move quickly. We speed through. We pick up and meditate on what we automatically love, because it takes little effort. But, we neglect to ponder what doesn’t resonate immediately, because it takes too much energy. I’m so guilty of this!

Oh, to take the time. Oh to ponder. Oh to be willing to stop rushing through the glories of Scripture. Oh to cease blocking out the work of the Spirit simply because we don’t see immediately. Oh to stop refusing to sit in the quiet. Oh to truly learn persistence, even when silence precedes it.

Because that, my friend, is what makes passages like Psalm 2 come to life. Will you join me in the persistence of listening?

Posted in Meditations & Meanderings, Thoughts from Life

Happy New Year!

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

Okay, so maybe I’m about a week late on that new year greeting. But, there is a point, even to that.

I love fresh starts. And I love succeeding in my fresh starts. But, all too often I miss them. For instance, I had intentions for welcoming 2019. I had productivity plans and writing plans and decluttering plans. But, as often happens, so much ended up getting crammed into the days off school that I didn’t get around to the “extra” plans. It was all I could do to make sure I got enough work hours in (and I didn’t always succeed even at that) and tackled the necessities. I wanted to start the new year ahead of the game. Blog posts ready to publish. Projects ready to go. Stuff done. Instead, I accomplished what had to be done, leaving the whole hopeful list still waiting for me.

So now, here I am, a week into the new year, launching into a Monday after a night of very little sleep, carrying a few basic tasks over from last week and seeing none of my “get ahead” hopes accomplished.

With my personality, that’s not a very encouraging fresh start.

Over the past few years, though, I’ve been trying to change my mentality about fresh starts. Several years ago, my boss wrote an article entitled “Tomorrow is Always Fresh,” combating the lie that we have to wait until a traditional “fresh start” day to reorient ourselves after our plan or routine falls apart. Why do we have to wait until Monday? Or the first of the month? Or the beginning of a new year? Why not tomorrow?

This is my tomorrow.

So, I didn’t start the new year as I’d hoped. So, I don’t have a writing plan or a new schedule or a head start. So, I have to just dive in and work on it all as I’m processing through a normal week. If I let all of that stop me, I’ll never truly enjoy fresh starts. I’ll always be waiting for that next Monday. That next first of the month. That next first of the year. That day upon which I hang hopes that will not materialize. Something will always stand in the way. Something will keep me behind. Something will always need to be caught up.

This morning, I choose to start fresh right here, right now. Yes, it’s a Monday, but the fresh start is not because it’s Monday. The fresh start is because it’s today. Because I have an opportunity. So, I’m going to take it.

And guess what? Tomorrow will be fresh as well. So if things fall apart as today moves on, I’ll get to start again tomorrow.

So, Happy New Year! No matter what your past week has produced, may today be a fresh start for you as well.

Posted in Around the Web, Faith Nuggets, Meditations & Meanderings, Repost

Source of Delight

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

Sometimes I have to go back and revisit what God has taught me in the past, either through journals or old articles. Today, I’d like to share one I wrote for work – probably for Family Magazine – four or five years ago. I needed this reminder today. 

What delights you? Obviously, our families and good friends bring delight. But, we can’t forget that good bite of chocolate, either. Okay, so maybe we need more than just a bite, but you get the picture.

I can think of several activities that bring me delight. I find great relaxation in sewing and writing. Other times there’s nothing like curling up on the couch with a warm drink and a good book when I catch the chance. I feel energized when I have something to organize, whether it be a kitchen cabinet or a well-laid plan. Even though I typically would prefer to leave cooking to just about anyone else, I do thoroughly enjoy whipping up a delicious baked treat. And then there is teaching my children. Oh how I truly love being the one to watch that precious trio learn!

I have noticed something about myself, though. There are times when none of these activities appeal to me. Somewhere deep inside of me I might want the relaxation of a good book or the accomplishment of completing a sewing project. But, that little something seems to be so greatly buried that it offers no motivation. Instead, I find that I just don’t care about anything. I’m so restless that inactivity drives me crazy, but none of the things that normally delight me tempt or motivate me at all.

Maybe I’m the only one who ever ends up in a place like that, but somehow I doubt that to be true. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised to find at least one reader battling similar feelings right now. I hate that part of myself and never want to be in that place. But, it has taken me a very, very long time to learn how to battle against those times of lethargy.

Rediscovering Delight

Once I did finally discover the key weapon in my battle, I found it to be something so incredibly simple. It comes from a verse many of us have known for as long as we can remember.

Delight yourself in the Lord; and He will give you the desires of your heart. Psalm 37:4

This is such a familiar verse, and it is one that frequently gets taken out of context. So, just to make sure there is no misunderstanding, let’s look for just a moment at what is going on in Psalm 37. Essentially, David observes that the wicked seem to be living in the lap of luxury while the righteous struggle day after day. But, he also notes that the success of the wicked is temporary, and he reminds us that only trust in the Lord will endure eternally and bring us success, fulfillment, and even provision. He’s calling us to delight in the Lord in the middle of frustration, agitation, and injustice. We are reminded to put aside the earthly temptations that draw in the wicked and intentionally find delight in God alone.

I can guarantee you beyond any doubt that those deep, dark moments of life in which I lose all interest in everything can be traced back to a choice regarding where I place my delight. When I delight in the Lord, I find myself fully delighting in the things He created me to be and do. I cannot help but write. I itch to sew. I look at my bookshelf and hunger to find a book that teaches me more about His Word or tells the story of a character, real or fictional, who delighted in Him. I want to keep my life organized, and I want to bake just so I can delight someone with the treat. And oh how I want to teach my children. The hunger and passion to instill that delight in the Lord in them almost overwhelms me. But when I stop delighting in Him, I begin trying to find joy in all of those other things. And suddenly, they’re not good enough at all.

The only treatment for times like these is a restoration of our delight in the Lord. But we fight against it so strongly. We don’t want to pray. We don’t want to read His Word. We don’t want to fellowship with other believers. We know we’re rotten, and we are convinced that diving into anything of spiritual significance will do nothing more than reinforce our own blackness. All we want to do is avoid that spiritual depth. And the more we avoid delighting in the Lord, the more we lose our delight in everything else.

So, what do we do? We try to rev up our delight in all those other things. It will never work. The opposite happens instead, and we find ourselves even more repulsed by the very things that typically fuel us. Amazingly, though, the moment we push through and make ourselves delight in the Lord, we see a change. We see the passion begin to spark again. We feel the energy begin to flow. There is an instant, cleansing power found through delighting in the Lord.

Are you in a place right now where you have lost delight in everything? Take that first step toward delighting in the Lord. It might be as simple as getting on your knees and crying, “Help me!” It could involve forcing yourself to read a passage over and over until you sense the voice of the Holy Spirit speaking life back into your heart. Joining with other believers in a place of good, Christ-focused fellowship might be the step you need to take. Whatever it is, take it! It will be hard. It will take all of your energy. But as soon as you take that step, you’ll sense the delight returning to your heart.

My friend, may you delight yourself in the Lord, and may He overwhelm you with joy in the desires of your heart.

Posted in Faith Nuggets, Family

Learning from One Another

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

Friday is my family’s day of rest.

There are certain things lacking in our Friday Sabbath, like the corporate worship portion of Sabbath that is such a critical part of our rest. But, the honest truth is that we are in a season where Sunday and rest simply cannot coincide. That does not, however, give us an excuse to disobey the command to rest. The command is still there. Not just moments caught here and there, but intentional, weekly, full-day rest.

And, for this season in the life of the Hibbards, that day is typically Friday.

The thing about our Fridays is that we have had to learn how to make the rest happen. And, we’ve had to learn how to do it as a family. Or, maybe I should say that we are having to learn to do it as a family. It doesn’t come naturally, partly because we live in a culture that works against true rest. In our culture, nothing is truly restful. Days off work are filled with catching up on chores that cannot be done during the week, engaging in an overly exhausting pile-up of ball games and tournaments, or filling the time with non-stop “vacation” activity. Days off do not equal rest. True rest has to be learned.

Many books and resources are available these days to help us learn what true rest is – and just how counter-cultural it is! In fact, if you’re interested, I could recommend some of the best of those resources to you. (Be warned – your toes WILL be stepped on.) Ultimately, though, it all comes back to the reality that we each have to learn what rest looks like for our individual circumstances. The specific details of rest will look different for you than for me because our needs, personalities, and circumstances are different. Unique. Specific.

Here’s the catch. When we share advice or experience with one another, we make one of two mistakes. Either we share what has worked perfectly for us and expect it to also meet others’ needs perfectly (or we’re on the receiving end of that sort of advice!) or we refrain from sharing because we know that we’re unique and weird and different and that what works for us will not work for someone else. What we should be doing is sharing with one another because we know we need motivation, encouragement, ideas, and foundations upon which to build.

I’ll be honest. Our family has struggled to figure out what our day of rest should look like. Why? Because in past seasons, rest flowed more naturally. It presented itself in the rhythms of our life. We didn’t have to actively protect it and be as intentional about it as we do now. It just happened. Which, in a way, was nice because it wasn’t a struggle. In another way, though, obedience was easy and we didn’t have to think about it. So, we didn’t grow in that aspect of obedience.

Now we do have to be intentional. We do have to work at it. And, we have had to rethink every aspect of what it means to rest as a family. We’ve researched and read and explored (thus finding all of those awesome resources that we can recommend!), learning much through books and commentaries and blog posts and such. Sadly, in all of our exploration, there has been very little exchange of thoughts and ideas with our immediate community.

Friends, that ought not be.

First, we should be obeying the command to observe regular rest. Second, we should be sharing as a community in the process. Sabbath is counter-cultural in our society – it should be the norm within our Christian communities.

Last year I “met” a new “friend” named Shelly Miller. No, I don’t really know her. I enjoyed her book Rhythms of Rest, I read her Sabbath Society e-mails each week, and we exchanged a few e-mails at one point. None of it is enough to allow me to truly claim her as part of my community. Yet, what she has to offer is what I long for in a community. She shares as she learns, engages in conversation with those who are learning alongside her, and craves growth as a community.

That’s what WE should be. A community that encourages one another to learn, whether it be about rest or any other area of obedience.

So, what are you learning? How are you sharing what you’re learning? Who is sharing their lessons with you? And if you cannot answer any of those questions, what are you going to actively do to change? Let’s actively learn from one another!