In Stillness and simplicity...

“Perfection is achieved, not when there is nothing more to add, but when there is nothing left to take away.”

– Antoine de Saint-Exupery

Today I kept hearing the words of the Michael Card penned song “In Stillness and Simplicity”.  It’s from one of his early albums.  I read the quote above today and have thought of it all day long, not so much in terms of perfection, but in knowing where to stop.  I remember times I’ve created something, a song, a craft or piece of art, and I fool with it and mess with it, and then, the point comes when it feels I am taking away something to add anything else to it…any more work, effort, or “touching” of it at all.  There just comes a time when it is time to stop.  I equate it to hair stylists.  You can strive for perfection to the point that someone ends up bald.  There comes a point when you just have to stop.  It is what it is.

Editing applies to this quote.  One of my AP English teachers in high school taught me over and over again:  “It is harder to write a brief, clear and effective message than to write a 2000 page book.  Strive for brevity and concise writing.”  How true.

I don’t know that I hit “concise writing” well.  I enjoy the various facets of a thought and I enjoy turning over all the rocks to see what lies there.

Still, the message of simplicity, or “less being more” is central to my thoughts this season.  Oh yes, I won’t lie:  there is that desire to be delighted that is the child in each of us.  But, I want more than anything, below the surface, to just know the gift of contentment.  The gift of using well what I have.  The gift of sharing my time, myself, my life-energy…good, balanced priorities.  To appreciate and give more the gift of the smile.  To love, to know, to be, to do.  Those precious things can’t be bought or measured, only deliberately given from a very disciplined, honed, focused life driven by clear, sole purpose and priority.  You don’t “get” that.  You attain it.  You reflect it from the very life of Jesus.

In Stillness and Simplicity - Michael Card

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yNnbsEkpvZk

In stillness and simplicity

In the silence of the heart I see

The mystery of eternity

In stillness and simplicity

In stillness and simplicity

I hear the Spirit silently

That You, o Lord, are close to me

In stillness and simplicity

You're the Word who must be heard

By those who listen quietly

Is the reason we're not still to hear You speak 

Because we don't believe You will

In stillness and simplicity

I lose myself in finding Thee 

O Lord, You mean so much to me

In stillness and simplicity

So seek the One who dwells in you

The Kingdom that's within is true

That innermost reality

In stillness and simplicity

Reflections on Christmas...

I could go on and on about the many wonderful things that made up my Christmas this year.  But it all comes down to one thing for me, the sound of someone getting rescued.  Let me take you back a week or so ago....

I was driving my little cousin Casey home from my house the other night when we heard a police siren.  Naturally, my body stiffens.  My eyes go directly to my speedometer, checking to see if I am speeding.  I was not.  Into the dark night, much to my relief, the red and blue lights of the police car sped by us. In the backseat, I heard Casey sigh happily and say,

“Ohhhh, I love that sound!”

That’s a strange thing for a seven year old to say, so I asked her why. Without missing a beat she said, “Because that’s the sound of someone getting rescued.”  The weight of her words took my breath from me for a brief moment.

Have you ever thought that?

I haven’t. When I see a police car with the lights on coming up behind me, my first thought is “Am I speeding?" or "Oh no, he’s coming after me!"  If the cop passes me, I wonder who he’s going after. I imagine someone has broken the law and is about to be caught.

Kids?  They get rescue. They get grace.

That’s how kids think. If you’re loved, you’re fully loved. If you’re in need of rescue, it’s coming. If you’re bad, you can still come home.

Kids get grace.

I think Christ wants us to get it too.  I don't know about you, but I struggle to really comprehend grace.  That’s why I think he wants us to have faith like a child.  They do not get bogged down by questions, doubts, fears and uncertainty.  They blindly trust.  That's how they can get grace.

Over these last few weeks, we have heard the Christmas story spoken and sung hundreds of times.  But don’t let the repetition dull you to its impact. It’s not myth. It’s not empty ritual. It’s not the soundtrack to a month of mindless consumerism.

It’s the sound of someone getting rescued.

Merry Christmas to you all!  I pray that you not only had joyful celebrations with your family and friends, but that you were overwhelmed by the fact that the Savior of the world came to save us so that you and I could live abundant life.  May the wonder of Christmas never escape us...

Seeking Him where He is...

When I was growing up, one of my favorite places to be was in our garage with my Dad.  He worked a lot and always the overnight shift, so it would give him the opportunity to come to all of my school things and extra-curricular activities.  When he was home and had some rare down time, he loved to go out in the garage and "tinker around," as he called it.

I remember being absolutely fascinated with his garage workspace.  He was one of those "tool guys."  He seemed to have every possible tool imaginable.  I would wander in there and look around in wonder as though I were looking at Christmas lights or a beautiful sky full of stars.  I had no clue what 99% of the things in there were, but I was just enamored with it all.

My Dad and I have always gotten along great, but we're polar opposites when it comes to the things we are interested in, creatively and passionately.  I was always more of a fine arts person - music, art, theatre, writing, literature, dance, etc.  All of which were virtually foreign to him.  He was artistic and creative in his own right, but it came in the form of woodworking, craftsman projects and "fixing things."

Our garage was the one place I knew I could really connect well with my Dad on his level where he was.  I would go out there, even as a little girl, and try to "help" him.  Of course, help from a little girl in a workshop like that was more of a hindrance, but he never displayed that.  He would sweetly and gently teach me about the things he was doing.  How to use tools, how to work with wood, how to paint well, how to do all of those household "fix it" type of things.  These were worlds he knew and he was more than willing to share them with me.  Naturally, when I was out in the garage "helping" Dad, his projects took him much longer than necessary, but he never complained.

He is one of those "hard nuts to crack."  It takes a lot to get him engaged sometimes and really connecting in his interactions with others.  I learned at a very young age that in order to connect with my Dad in the way I wanted to, I needed to put myself in his world and engage myself in things he was passionate about and interested in, not try and force him to engage in my interests that I knew he didn't care much for, other than supporting me in being interested in those things.  In the garage, he always seemed disarmed and less guarded.  I never felt closer to my Dad growing up than when I was out in the garage with him, in the world he loved most and knew so well.  Often it took the action on my part of going out there to get him engaged, but it always did the trick.

So much of connection is seeking.

In preparing my mind for Christmas through this season of Advent, I have found my mind being drawn to the words REACHING and SEEKING.

God seeking us out and reaching His love down to us in the humble form of a tiny baby.  Something He knew we could understand and connect with.

He could have chosen to break through the sky with anthem and angel wings.  But He knew we would understand a baby's cry and a love from a servant King.  So He came with starlight and love in His eyes.  No regal welcome for His infant cries.  There have been many babies to become a King, but only one King became a baby.

He came down to our level and drew us to Himself by revealing Himself in a way that we could understand and truly see His glory.  He knew that He had to connect with us in a way that we could grasp and understand in our human way of comprehension.

And to connect with Him, we have to meet Him at the throne where He is through prayer and by the power of the Holy Spirit within us.  We have to dive into His Word and seek Him just like He sought us.

This Christmas, my prayer is that my heart will always be a dwelling place for God that seeks Him out in everything I do, giving Him continual gratitude and glory for who He is and for choosing to seek us.

Silence and stillness...

Psalm 46:10 - "Be still and know that I am God."

This is one of those verses that is so grounded in my mind and spirit and soul.  It generally comes to mind when I'm being my usual stressed, OCD self.  But this week it lingered in my mind and wouldn't leave.  When this happens, I tend to feel like it's God's way of making me see something.  To slow down enough to realize it and understand it.  I begin to pray for discernment and leading.

The word silence was in the forefront of my mind.  The other night, when I of course should have been getting work done, I read through some quotations about silence on the Internet.

“In the attitude of silence the soul finds the path in a clearer light, and what is elusive and deceptive resolves itself into crystal clearness.  Our life is a long and arduous quest after Truth.”  -Mahatma Gandhi

“God's poet is silence! His song is unspoken,

And yet so profound, so loud, and so far,

It fills you, it thrills you with measures unbroken,

And as soft, and as fair, and as far as a star.”

-Joaquin Miller

“Silence is a fence around wisdom.”  -German Proverb

“Silence is as deep as eternity; speech, shallow as time.”  -Thomas Carlyle

This all made sense.  Be still.  Be silent enough to hear what God is saying to me. Right?  Was this what He was wanting me to get out of this?  This was nothing new.  This is what I gleaned from this Scripture verse before now.

I was having my prayer/devotion quiet time very early this morning when He revealed it to me all of a sudden.

I am a words person.  I am a writer, I am a conversationalist, I am detail oriented...all of these things should give you the idea that I am not rendered speechless very often.

I was feeling overwhelmed for various reasons this morning and spilling it all out to God in prayer.  I found myself talking in circles, trying to get out what was on my heart and mind, but unable find adequate words.  Then something came to me...

God doesn't need my words.  He hears the heart that is unspoken.  In the silence, I hear His voice, which is the only voice that matters.

That's what He wanted me to get out of that Scripture verse.  I needed to remember that part of being still is sometimes being silent.  He doesn't need my words to know what is in my heart.  Too often I get so caught up in finding the words to say when it is so unnecessary.  God hears our hearts.

This reminded me of a powerful song written and sung by a woman I'm blessed to know and proud to call a friend.  During a very, very difficult time in her life, she found it difficult to find words to speak and was spending a lot of time being silent.  As a result of that time, she penned this amazing song.  (Lyrics are posted below the video.)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YFwVzRwz-m8

Hear My Heart (Sheri Easter)

Sometimes I feel no one’s ever been in this place before.

This is hard, and I’m not sure that I can do this anymore.

I know someday I’ll look back and all this won’t seem real

But Lord right now I need you to know just how I feel.

When there are no words to say and no prayer that I can pray, hear my heart.

When I don’t have strength to try and I’ve cried all I can cry, hear my heart.

Cause you know every fear and every doubt I cannot speak.

You know all the ways I need you and all the ways I’m weak

So I’ll be quiet so You can hear my heart.

Every now and then, I recall a simple phrase or melody.

It comforts, it quiets, it lifts me up and then it carries me.

Far above the pain and hurt I think will never end.

The song speaks words I cannot and calms the fears within.

When there are no words to say and no prayer that I can pray, hear my heart.

When I don’t have strength to try and I’ve cried all I can cry, hear my heart.

Cause you know every fear and every doubt I cannot speak.

You know all the ways I need you and all the ways I’m weak

So I’ll be quiet so You can hear my heart.

Lord I’ll be quiet

So You can hear my heart

Christmas lights...

I have an intense love for Christmas lights.

When I was a child growing up, my Dad would put those old school big multi-colored bulbs on our house at Christmastime that twinkled very slowly.  I remember laying in my bed at night (when I was supposed to be sleeping, of course) staring endlessly at those twinkle lights trying to figure out which one would blink next and enjoying the soft glow they gave my bedroom.

One of my favorite Christmas traditions growing up occurred on Christmas Eve.  After we attended or hosted whatever family get-together that was happening that night, we would pile into the car and drive all around our picturesque little town looking at all the Christmas lights people put up on their homes and businesses.  Sometimes, if the weather permitted, we would get out and walk the downtown area and enjoy all of the beautifully decorated store fronts.

Nowadays, my house (indoors mostly) is bursting at the seams with Christmas lights.  So much that we rarely use our lamps and overhead lights.  We enjoy the cozy, warm atmosphere the Christmas lights create for us.

One of my favorite things to do is find moments of stillness amidst what is always an incredibly busy Christmas season.  A little time late at night sitting by one of our Christmas trees playing/singing Christmas carols and having a little worship time.  Things like that.

Something I love most is to look at the trees or the lights without my contacts in or my glasses on.  That sounds silly, I know.  Especially if you're aware how very blind I am without my contacts in or glasses on.  Ha.  Lights look pretty much like this to me without any vision assistance:

I cannot make out the tree they're on or the garland.  All I can see is the glow of the lights in the darkness.  It is these moments that serve to remind me of the purpose of our lives on this earth.  To be a light in darkness.

While Christmastime is predominantly a joyful season of the year for me, it is a time of sadness, loneliness, depression, grief and despair for so many others.  I've been there myself.  There have been years where my life circumstances overshadowed the joy of the Christmas season and it was instead a very sad time.  When you're in the midst of a difficult time, it is sometimes very hard to see light in your period of darkness.  And when you can see glimpses of light, sometimes it's difficult to see where the light is coming from or what kind of light it is.

We just have to trust the hope that glimpses of light in darkness bring, even when they're not fully clear.  We must have the faith to be confident in the fact that God will bring beauty and light into the darkness in His time and makes all things new.