Posted in Thoughts from Life

Words

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

Have you ever found yourself boldly stating something as fact, only to discover shortly after that you weren’t quite right?

Or have you ever processed back on a concept you taught or shared or lived out with confidence that you have since learned to view in greater depth…and therefore differently?

Today I’m struggling, not because I don’t have any ideas to write about, but because I’m increasingly aware of the weight of sharing those words.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not under any illusions that I’m this huge influencer or anything. It’s not that. But, the truth is that words or ideas shared with even one other person can have an impact. Can cause a ripple. Can either nourish or infect.

I’m not an expert in much of anything. I have experience in many things, but I’m living proof of the idea that the more you learn, the more you discover there is to learn. Things I used to proclaim boldly are now a little less solid in my own mind. It’s not because I’ve changed my mind or become wishy-washy. It’s because I’ve learned more and discovered that nothing is as clear-cut and simple as I once thought it was.

I love writing about, talking about, and teaching from Scripture. But I know that there have been times I’ve taught poorly. I’ve spoken wrongly. I’ve written with an overly simplistic or overly superior approach. I want to instead share from a place of grace. A place of learning. A place of recognizing that I don’t know it all and still have much to learn.

I’ve either started or hashed out several ideas in my writing time in recent weeks. I have a stash of ideas, half-written posts, or rough drafts from other writing days. Sometimes I’m afraid to post them. Afraid that I’m wrong or that I’ll make someone mad or that I’ll push buttons that don’t need to be pushed.

Other times, I sense that the thoughts are incomplete. That I haven’t really brought them to fruition and haven’t made a solid point. Still other times, I have a distinct sense that my timing is bad and that I just need to wait before clicking publish.

The wisest people I know are those who are careful about what they say. This doesn’t mean they are always right or that they never make mistakes. But they are careful. And they own their mistakes.

That’s how I want to be. Wise.

So, I prayerfully continue to sit on some of my words. To wait before I share. Not just on the blog, but on social media and hopefully in person as well. (That one’s harder, because in a real conversation I speak so much more quickly than I speak! Ouch!)

Because above all, I want my words to point others to Christ. I want them to be full of truth, honorable, kind, and humble. That is my prayer.

Posted in Marriage

Just Because

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

Once upon a time, I wrote a post about marriage every Monday. I found this one today and thought I’d honor that old Marriage Monday tradition this week.

My husband is the king of “just because” moments – those little moments when there’s no real reason to celebrate, give a gift, or do something out of the ordinary. He just acts out of love.

I’m not so great at those moments. I tend to be more of a planner and need a reason or an occasion to motivate me to action. That’s an area I want to grow, though. I want to be more about the “just because” actions.

So, why are those moments so important? Because they show that we’re thinking of each other. They are tangible proof that our relationship goes beyond just the normal facts of married life. Our marriage is not just about going through the daily routine, parenting our kids, and putting up with each other. It’s about being a picture of Christ’s relationship with us.

And, let me tell you, my friends. There are many things the Lord does in our lives “just because.”

Just because they help us bring glory to Him.
Just because they fill us with joy.
Just because they teach us to know Him better.
Just because they bounce through our lives to impact others, drawing them into the kingdom.

Yes, marriage is a picture of all of that.

Suddenly, those little “just because” moments become far more important, don’t they? Those moments in which we are wide open in our love for our spouses. Those moments in which we display that love before the world. Those moments that are not about bragging but are about being true and real and honest.

I love seeing husbands and wives sitting close together, holding hands in public, or fully engaged in delightful conversation. I love seeing them drawn together like a magnet. There’s little more beautiful than the sight of a husband’s face lighting up when he sees his wife or a wife’s expression when she’s about to explode with pride for her husband.

Those are “just because” moments that shine.

Creating a marriage that reflects Christ, thus fulfilling marriage’s true purpose, is not an easy task. But, it can start with something as simple as being intentional about “just because” moments.

How can you be intentional this week?

Posted in Faith Nuggets, Thoughts from Scripture

Remembered

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

My morning devotional reading is quite varied. I do a personal Bible reading as well as reading for Sunday school and Bible studies. I usually read a devotional, and I keep two additional books going, one for spiritual growth and another for general personal growth.

All of those things vary and rotate depending on what’s in front of me at the moment. But, a number of years ago, I decided to add something consistent to my devotional reading: the Psalms. Every morning, I read from the Psalms. Some years it has been one a day, while other years I’ve slowed down and spent a week on each Psalm. Sometimes I’ve just focused on reading the Psalms themselves while other times I’ve included coordinating devotionals or commentary reading.

Through it all, it still amazes me that year after year I can see new things. These songs and prayers have become very familiar to me, and yet I still can be surprised by them.

Take Psalm 111, for example. It’s a beautiful “Hallelujah!” song of praise. But, for some reason, this year the contrast between Psalm 111 and the preceding Psalms hit me like it’s never hit me before.

In case you’ve never noticed, some of the Psalms can be quite brutal. Even in my darkest of times or heaviest of moods, I squirm at the extremity of some of the prayers I read in this emotion-filled ancient hymnal. But the greatest jolt comes when those deep, dark, and sometimes ugly prayers are followed immediately by ecstatic songs of praise.

Many of the Psalms preceding Psalm 111 are those dark, heavy prayers. In past readings, I’ve often felt a sense of relief in arriving at Psalm 111 after sitting through the heaviness of some pretty extreme lament. This year, though, the opening “Hallelujah!” hit me with a jolt and made me sit up and take notice. When I did, I was taken off guard, not by the disconnect, but by the continuity of this praise on the heels of grief. By the way it merges so well with the deep laments of some of the preceding Psalms.

The key for me was verse four: “He has caused his wondrous works to be remembered. The Lord is gracious and compassionate.” (CSB)

His wondrous works. Remembered.

We often think of words like wondrous, wonderful, and awesome in strictly positive terms. With that mindset, reference to God’s amazing and wondrous works bring to mind His miraculous hand rescuing His people. The parting of the Red Sea. The provision of nourishment. Healings. Resurrections. And those are all very, very valid remembrances and are some of the exact works that would have come to mind when the ancient Israelites recited or sang Psalm 111 together.

But, his wondrous works are also seen in His judgment. Why? Because the “works of his hands are truth and justice; all his instructions are trustworthy. They are established forever and ever, enacted in truth and in uprightness.” (verses 7-8)

Even when His works aren’t positive but instead bring the pain of judgment and leave us feeling forgotten and abandoned — themes many of the preceding Psalms explore — His wondrous works are still perfect and good and trustworthy.

We remember His wondrous works and we praise in ecstatic joy. But we also remember His wondrous works to give us something to cling to when it feels like everything is falling apart around us. We remember so that, even when we feel forgotten and abandoned, we can know somewhere in the depths of our beings that we aren’t.

He causes His wondrous works, whether miraculous works or works of judgment, to be remembered so that we can know we, too, are always remembered by Him. Whether we can lift up shouts of delight and joyful songs of praise or are simply grasping for whatever we can find to just help us survive in our depths, we remember. And our remembering assures us that we are remembered.

Wherever you are today, may this remembrance be yours. He is true. He is trustworthy. And He remembers you.

The Christian Standard Bible. Copyright © 2017 by Holman Bible Publishers. Used by permission. Christian Standard Bible®, and CSB® are federally registered trademarks of Holman Bible Publishers, all rights reserved.
Posted in Faith Nuggets, Thoughts, Thoughts from Scripture

What He Has Done

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

Revisiting another old post…this is a reminder that I needed today.

Every morning, I copy a few verses of Scripture. I love copying. It slows me down and makes me really think about what I am reading. Recently, Psalm 92:4 was the verse that made me pause.

Psalm 92 is a psalm of praise, which is nothing unusual. Psalms such as these abound, not only in the book of Psalms but throughout Scripture. I often seek out these songs when I am struggling to praise. They help me focus and redirect.

But, something about verse four of this particular psalm helped me realize why I do sometimes struggle with praise. Take a look at the verse with me.

For You, O Lord, have made me glad by what You have done, I will sing for joy at the works of Your hands.

The psalmist is focusing on what God has done, again a common theme in psalms of praise. But, truly pondering this truth made me realize something about myself.

I too often focus on what God has not done.

Sadly, focusing on what He hasn’t done comes quite easily. And the more we do it, the more easily it comes. Why? Because we love to focus on prayer requests. And not just prayer requests, but specific prayer requests. Physical healing. Marital healing. Provision. Open doors. Salvation.

When the answers we expect don’t come quickly, we pray harder. And we focus more and more on the reality that the healing is not coming. The marriage still fell apart. We were forced to make alternate decisions because the provision or open doors we expected were not there. And that loved one is still hardened to Christ Jesus.

Yes, it is very easy to notice all of the things He has not done.

It is much harder to stop, step back, and acknowledge what He has done, especially in the midst of disappointment over seemingly unanswered prayer. But that, my friends, is exactly what we must do.

What has God done around you this week? How has He shown His might? His power? His love? His creativity? His sense of humor? His majesty? His grace? His mercy? His protectiveness? His jealousy? His desire for a relationship with you?

How has He sought your attention? How has He reminded you of His Word? How has He used others around you to reveal Himself?

Once you start looking, you will be amazed by the infinite ways He has shown Himself this week. The incredible evidences of His handiwork will be overwhelming.

And, amazingly, the more you notice what He has done, the easier it will become – until one day you wake up and realize there is little, if anything, He hasn’t done.

Posted in Uncategorized

When Something Has to Give

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

I have a good daily rhythm in place. It’s full, but not excessive. There is wiggle room and space to breath. There’s space for rest. Even so, I have to recognize the reality that there’s always plenty to do. And, while there’s wiggle and breathing room in the daily schedule, there’s never empty space that is just waiting to be filled.

Consequently, there are weeks when something has to give. There are times when I have to look at the routine and pick out something that can be compacted, delayed, or even completely set aside for that day or week.

I’m in the middle of a few months that will include more irregular weeks than routine ones. It’s normal for this time of year. While a few of my commitments are new, most of them are expected events, activities, or appointments that tend to all cluster together this time of year. I expect them and know to prepare for them. But their impact is still very real and very present.

And in times like these, something has to give.

Over the last couple of weeks, the “something” has been writing. On several of my normal writing days, I was on the road or participating in a commitment. Other days, I really needed to devote that time elsewhere. I did compact chores a little bit, knowing that I could shift and juggle them over the course of a few weeks without getting too far behind on anything. But, the biggest bulk of flex time could be most easily found by setting aside the writing in favor of necessities.

Here’s where the challenge comes in, though. It’s easy to assume that because writing is the easiest thing to set aside, that means it’s the least important. After all, my writing has very little definable purpose. It does not produce income. I am not working toward any particular publication. I have no deadlines. It’s just time that I’ve set aside by choice.

I may not enjoy chores, but I can only set them aside or compact them for a short time before I fall behind. They must be done. The hours each week that I devote to contract work may be very flexible, but by the end of each month, I have to have hit a certain number of work hours for the month if I am going to get paid the agreed-upon amount. How I manage those hours can flex from week to week, but ultimately (specifically by the last day of the month), I’ll have to get them all in. And, of course, there are always other responsibilities related to church and life and health that must get done.

Writing is the one thing that has no obligation. No commitment. No necessity attached to it.

In the last few months, I’ve been reminded why I started writing years ago. It’s my most reliable creative outlet. And, whether we acknowledge it or not, we are all designed to create in some way. It may not look like what our society defines as creativity. We may have to work a bit to understand it. But, it’s there. And when we stifle our creativity because it doesn’t feel practical or purposeful to a culture focused on productivity, we suffer.

For many, many years, I only wrote for work. There were a variety of reasons I stopped writing personally, but at least part of it was related to that sense of productivity and the recognition that my writing didn’t really produce anything. And through those years, my personal growth suffered because I wasn’t writing.

Now I’m trying to get back into the habit, but those old lies don’t die easily. Those lies that tell me that because my writing is not productive, it’s not important. Those lies that use the example of the truly busy weeks, those weeks when writing does have to be set aside, to try to convince me that every week is too busy. That every hour set aside for writing is taking me away from something more important. I have home projects that are glaring me in the face. I could be working more contract hours. I could be spending more time on this or that ministry investment.

There’s always something. And in the light of the “something,” I could go back to where I was for many years. I could make it the rule that writing can be set aside. I could make writing the exception, the thing that only fit when I really have time.

And then I would never have time.

It’s hard. I’m fighting it today, especially since we only have two or three routine weeks over the course of about three months. This is one of them, and there are so many other things that I could be doing to maximize my productivity this week.

Instead, here I sit. Writing. Choosing. Even if it’s just a few minutes here and there. Even if I don’t get everything published on schedule. I’m choosing to write.

Yes, there are always times when something has to give. In all honesty, even with the best and most flexible of schedules, we’re rarely going to face weeks where we can get it all done because random things always pop up. But, even when something has to give, the practice of creating is still important. It still has to be a choice.

And today, I choose to do whatever I can to keep it going.

Posted in What Works for Me

What Works for Me

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

I got caught up in a variety of tasks this morning and ran out of writing time. But, in an effort to keep up the habit (more on that to come), I took enough time to review and update another old post to republish and share. So, here you go!

The more I have delved into the worlds of ministry and homeschooling, the more I have seen a certain truth reveal itself: What works for you just might not work for me.

We love to give advice. When someone has a problem, we are quick to share the perfect solution. After all, it worked perfectly for me. Doesn’t that mean it will work perfectly for everyone?

What we forget is that we are not a one-size-fits-all people. We are unique by design. As a result, one solution will not fit every single one of us. In fact, very often one solution will fit, well, one of us.

That produces quite the conundrum. If what works for me may not work for you (and vice versa), then I suppose we can never help one another!

Fortunately, that supposition is far from true. We can help one another. We just have to know how. As we dole out “helpful” advice, the most important thing to remember is that all situations are different. That realization needs to form the foundation for all advice that we give.

So, what do we do with this realization? How can it truly shape the advice we give? Here are some tips I have learned:

Explain why it works for me.

Over the years, I’ve written a lot of reviews, blog posts, and articles that offer information about a product or method. Each time I dive into this style of writing, I try to start with a little “insider” information. I don’t share my life story, but I do give enough information about my circumstances to allow readers to discern how their situation or personality might relate to or differ from mine. They can then make mental adjustments as they read. This can just as easily be accomplished with spoken and informal advice.

Learn to pay attention to how the recipient of the advice is different.

I have learned just how important it is to be personal and relational, truly listening to people and where they are before I dish out advice. (Okay, so I’ve learned how important it is to do this; I’m not always great at following through with it. I’m learning.) Only then can I clearly see the ways in which what works for me needs to be adjusted before the advice can be useful to the recipient.

Don’t take it personally when advice is not taken or does not work.

I am still learning to repeat to myself, “What works for me might not work for them.” It’s not only okay, it’s good.

Receiving Help

But, there is another side to all of this. There is the receiving end. Though many of us prefer to give advice than to receive it, we are often are in need of what others have to share. So, how can we receive help with both wisdom and grace?

Do not take advice at face value.

No successes are accomplished simply by formula – there are always other, often unnoticed, factors involved. What other factors were involved in your friend’s success story? How do those factors relate to your situation? What changes might you need to make to act on the advice you are given?

Determine to prayerfully consider the advice given.

Often we listen with a smile on our faces, respond that it sounds like a good idea, and walk away with no intention of actually following through with the advice. Why? Because we all have that tinge of pride, be it ever so small, that makes us shy away from acting on the advice of others.

We may or may not actually use the advice, but let’s not allow pride to be the reason. Let it be because it really won’t work for us. Prayerfully consider. Hold it up to Scripture. Be willing to consider.

We are a community, whether we like it or not. A community helps. May we be willing to both give and receive with more grace, wisdom, and discernment!

Posted in Faith Nuggets, Thoughts, Thoughts from Life

One of Those Weeks

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

This is another post from about ten years ago. Odd enough, it fits with where I am this week. I did just write something fresh with a similar topic, actually, and I’ll share it soon. But it needs editing and I’m out of time. So, for now, I’ll share this from way back then and be reminded myself of the importance of being faithful and obedient…even in “those” weeks.

Do you ever have those weeks? You know, the ones where there is already more on the to-do list than hours to complete the list, but more comes along all through the week. Or the ones where very tool you need to attack the list in an efficient manner fails you. Or every task takes longer than it should. Or a crisis hits. Or all of the above.

No, I’ve never experienced weeks like that. Definitely not this week. No. Not at all.

Can you hear the sarcasm dripping across the written page? Yep, this is one of those weeks for me.

Typically in those weeks I don’t have much time to write, but this morning I just felt like I needed to. I didn’t really sit down with a thought of what to write – just a desire to take five minutes and do it. (Warning: my raw thoughts can be scary!)

I don’t have anything deep and meaningful to lift you up out of a week like this. I don’t have a magic wand to make it all better. I don’t even have Scripture that tells us that Jesus has a way to help us eliminate weeks like this. In fact, the Bible tells us just the opposite. We’ll have these weeks. Period.

All I have is a promise: If we are obedient, He will work through us. Yes, even in weeks like this.

If my attitude is any indication, I have not been very obedient this week. But I want to be. I want to finish well. I want today to show full reliance on Christ. I want to be His hands and feet today, setting aside anything that gets in the way.

That means I have to surrender the todo list to Him, too.

So, here I go. I’m choosing to be used by Him right now. I’m choosing to not have a bad attitude about having one of those weeks. I choose to be a Christ-honoring wife and mother instead of a gripey, irritable one. I choose to not get agitated when things don’t go as I planned. I choose to not be annoyed by interruptions. I choose to not be overwhelmed by the todo list, but to prayerfully tackle it in full submission to the Holy Spirit’s leadership.

Are you having one of those weeks? Know that I’m also choosing to focus my mental energy on praying for you. Because I know how it feels. And I know how Jesus can turn it around.

Posted in Thoughts from Life

If I Could Only…

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

I’ve waited months for a morning like this. Crisp. Cool. The sun shining from a clear blue sky, washed clean by recent rains. Long before that sun had even risen, we were settled on the front porch with our little tabletop fire pit, enjoying our morning reading in the fresh air. I even had a jacket on! What a glorious feeling!

I’m not a summer fan. The heat and I just don’t get along well, and summer is something I tolerate only because I do like living in Arkansas. And I know that so many of the people around me love the warmth of summer. So, I rejoice for them. But I keep waiting. Anticipating. Telling myself that I’ll feel more alive when the cool comes.

And this morning, I have the hint of it. Not the permanence. Tomorrow morning will be a good ten degrees warmer. We’ll probably still be on the porch, but I doubt I’ll need that jacket. And we still have 90s in the forecast.

But, the cold is coming, and this morning reminds me that it’s not interminably far away.

And yet, even with the taste of it, I’m struggling. The motivation I hoped for is elusive, and the energy to tackle my Monday is running low. It’s as if the wonderful, glorious, cool weather isn’t really a magic switch that turns on my motivation or my ability to be diligent with what’s in front of me. Who knew?

Yes, go ahead and chuckle. Laugh at me outright, if you like. It’s a legitimate response. Because we all know that, while certain things we love can fuel us, they are not the source of who we are and what we are capable of. Yes, I may be more comfortable when the temperatures are cooler, but hot weather doesn’t stop me from being who I am.

So often, however, we put all of our eggs in the basket of “if I could only…” If I could only live somewhere with cooler temperatures year-round, I’d be more motivated. If I could only get that day away once a month. If I could only be with the right kind of people. If I could only have this specific job. If I could only…

We get so caught up in the fact that we aren’t where we’d love to be in this moment that we fail to be all-in right where we are. We get through the work week more focused on looking forward to days off than putting our all into the tasks at hand. We anticipate time with the people we think we really want to be with instead of pouring our attention into ministering to the people before us right now. We reminisce about the times when things were “just right.” We spend so much of our energy either remembering or anticipating the “if I could only…” moments.

What we don’t realize is that we end up hamstringing ourselves. When we finally do get what we love, even that is tainted because we have neglected diligence while waiting to get there.

The beauty of our existence is not found in the “if I could only…” moments. It’s found in how we live each and every day. It’s found in our ability to find beauty and motivation in the moment at hand. It’s not always easy. There are bad days. There are uncomfortable days. There are miserable circumstances. There are challenging people.

But, all of these people and circumstances are just as much held in the hands of our loving Father as our favorite moments and relationships. They are all opportunities for His Spirit to shine through us. They are all opportunities to grow into who He created us to be.

Living in that fullness does not depend on our circumstances. Don’t get me wrong, circumstances do have an impact. There are times that are easier than others. But, our obedience and diligence in the moments we don’t like so much is just as important as our enjoyment of the “if I could only…” moments.

This morning, despite the delicious coolness that is making me so happy, I’m struggling. I realize how much energy I’ve wasted in recent months thinking about all the things that would be better “if only.” All the ways I have not been all-in with what God has put right in front of me.

I want to change that. But, it’s going to take effort. Discipline. Work. I won’t always want to put in the work, just like I don’t want to this morning. But I must. If I desire to enjoy the glorious moments, I have to seek the beauty of the not-so-glorious. If I want to be energized when all is going like I want it to go, I have to be diligent even when I feel like I’m trudging through the sludge of life.

“If I could only…” must become “in this moment, I can.” Because I was put in this moment by a Creator who knew how He wanted to work through His child. Right here. Right now. In the hard and in the easy. In the delightful and in the drudgery.

In this moment, I can. So I will. And when the glorious moments come, I will then, too, relishing them fully.

Posted in Faith Nuggets, Thoughts, Thoughts from Kids, Thoughts from Life

Not Overwhelmed…Focused

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

I was skimming through old posts this morning and noticed this one. It was a good reminder for me, and I hope it’s encouraging for you, too.

Years ago, our family ended up with a pile of yard work that consumed at least half of every Saturday for several weeks.

It started when Doug was able to borrow a pole saw and deal with some of the limbs that had been hanging over our house and yard. We wanted to get it done before winter, knowing that an ice storm could wreak havoc on the trees and our roof.

I really didn’t think it would be that big of a job. I mean, I knew there were quite a few branches hanging over the house, but I didn’t think there were that many.

For the record, it’s amazing how much bigger and more numerous they seemed when piled on the ground!

The first Saturday, we dove into the pile of what Doug had cut earlier in the week. But when we were only about halfway through the front yard pile (there was another pile on the side of the house and yet another in the back yard), Doug climbed up on the roof and cut out a few more branches.

Have I mentioned there were a LOT of branches?

The next week, we left the front yard and worked on the back yard, chopping, burning, and salvaging logs for the fireplace. We even roasted hot dogs and made s’mores, just to make it a bit more fun.

But it was still overwhelming. And we still had the side yard. And Doug cut down a few more branches in the backyard.

Yes, there were a lot of branches.

On that second Saturday, my oldest was manning the fire. We had a huge pile of branches beside the fire, waiting to be burned. But for two solid hours, that pile didn’t seem to shrink any. We kept cutting and piling, adding branches to the pile and to the fire itself. Finally, we had the back yard cleared – well, except for the huge ever-growing pile still waiting beside the fire.

My daughter, tired and hot from standing near the fire, looked at the huge pile with dread. “That will take forever to burn through, Mom!” she sighed.

Wrapping my arm around her, I turned her toward the rest of the back yard. Her eyes grew wide as she saw bare ground where branches had been piled not long before.

Life has a way of doing this to us. We see only what is right in front of us. Sometimes it is because what is right in front of us requires all of our energy and attention, leaving us no choice. Other times, we choose to keep our attention close, ignoring the broader picture.

Still other times, God closes our eyes to what is beyond the immediate. He knows that seeing it all would be like seeing all of those branches lying in the yard at the same time: overwhelming. The task before us would be too great. All we can handle is what is right in front of us.

But God knows that we can, in truth, handle it all. He knows He can walk us through each step until the job is done. We just need to keep our focus on Him and the little bit right in front of us.

God does choose on occasion to open our eyes to the bigger picture, letting us see how He is working beyond our tight, little world. Often, though, He simply wants us to obey in what He has placed before us right here, right now, simply walking in obedience and trusting Him to handle the rest.

Posted in Thoughts from Life

Growth is Big

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

Over the past few years, I’ve been nurturing a new love for liturgy. I used to avoid anything related to liturgy simple because I assumed it would be stale. Pray someone else’s prayers? That would be impersonal. Do things by rote? That wouldn’t feel alive.

Then I started making a habit of reading the Psalms every day, kind of as a devotional reading alongside whatever other Bible reading plan I was following. I honestly don’t know how many years I’ve been doing this. It started with the idea of reading a psalm a day. Then, I realized I wanted to go deeper. So, I would take one psalm and read it every day for a week. Then I worked through a book that highlighted certain Psalms and I would stay in a psalm for as long as it took me to read the specific chapter related to that particular psalm.

Over time, I began to realize that this was a liturgical practice. I was meditating on and praying the prayers of ancient kings and psalmists.

In the middle of this, I discovered the book Every Moment Holy* and fell in love with the way some of those prayers spoke what I couldn’t come up with on my own, especially in some of the struggles I was facing.

Over time, liturgy became more personal than some of my own efforts to pull my thoughts into the words of a prayer or song. Repeating a psalm or prayer day after day after day made worship feel more alive instead of less.

Today’s real thought, though, isn’t actually about liturgy. It’s instead about my gradual acceptance of liturgy being the groundwork for a new way of processing. In recent years I’ve also been reading more about the seasons of the church and the celebrations of the church year. Baptists don’t really follow any of historical and traditional church calendars all that much, and since I’ve been in a Baptist tradition pretty much my whole life, I don’t have a lot of inherent understanding of the church seasons. But it’s a fascinating concept to me, and it’s been fun to learn about.

Pentecost Sunday is one of those points on the church calendar that we Baptists really don’t talk much about. We don’t mind exploring the original Pentecost Sunday when the Holy Spirit first descended on the disciples, causing them to explode onto Jerusalem with a message spoken in languages that simple Galileans had no business knowing! That’s a cool story. But, we don’t want to take it too much further because the implications are a bit…unnerving. We don’t want to be too Pentecostal, after all.

What I’ve been reading lately, though, includes liturgies that go back centuries, woven throughout the history of Roman Catholics, Anglicans, and various Orthodox traditions. The instructions for worship for the entire fifty days between Easter and Pentecost are filled with opportunities for celebration and invitation. The liturgical prayers burst with longing for the presence of the Holy Spirit and His life-giving work in our hearts. They are grounded in Scripture yet exploding with joy. Solidity and emotion all woven into a beautiful exclamation of praise.

This learning has both thrilled and devastated me. Thrilled me because I’ve been reminded of the amazing access to the Father that we have through the Holy Spirit. Devastated me because it has exposed the many places in my heart that I have closed off to the Spirit. Places that I have built walls and have even defended with black and white declarations of Scripture and theology. Areas where I have decided that the Word of God is static, not living and breathing and sharper than any two-edged sword. Because that’s easier. It’s neater. It’s cleaner than surrendering to the Spirit of the Living God who can challenge my perceptions and expand my horizons and show me where my understanding is not just limited but also show me where I’m just plain wrong. About Him. About His Word. About my own way of living as His subject, servant, and child.

So, what’s my point in all of this? It’s not really about being a Baptist who is learning more about non-Baptisty things like liturgies or the church calendar. I think it’s more about realizing just how big growth is. And how long it takes. And how hard it is. And how much it shakes my world.

I like black and white. I like concrete and understandable things. I don’t like to be on the verge of understanding. I like to understand. Completely. I am an emotional person by nature, but I like to be able to manage those emotions and keep them organized. I like excitement, but I want it to be excitement that I can figure out and share in a structured way.

Growth doesn’t fit any of that. We often think that life is either black and white or has grayed, blurred lines. But that’s not true. Life is colorful, and growth is the explosion of those colors in a way that breaks through our black and white lines and makes us realize that the edges we’ve defined aren’t really the true edges after all.

Growth makes us realize that what we once thought to be concrete and solid and complete is actually one small block in a massive structure we can’t even begin to process yet. Growth shows us that we’re nowhere near full understanding. Growth throws our organization and structure under the bus and keeps stretching and expanding.

Growth is realizing that the very things we once thought hindered us are actually tools to expand us. That things we thought old and stale are actually the very things that breathe life into our hearts. Like liturgies and centuries-old traditions.

Growth is surprising. I like surprises, but only those that I can manage or understand well. Growth is not easily managed. It requires constant adjustment and expansion. Constant change. Constant confession and reassessment. Those are hard surprises for me. Things that are too big for me to grasp often cause me to want to shut down. But that’s what growth is…something that is too hard for me to grasp.

Will I grasp it all anyway?

*That was Every Moment Holy, vol 1. There are now three volumes, and I highly recommend all of them!