common prayer

Father,

In the middle of the busiest day, I pause to remember that You are near to all who call on You, all who call on You in truth. In truth, I’m a little stressed and a little worried, a little weak and a little weary. In truth, I know You are in control, always strong and never faint of heart. The truth I find hardest to believe is that You want to be near to me. But here I am, with a hammer, a coffee and a baby and only two hands. I’m calling.

~lg

Letters to Arden - August 17, 2010

Dear Arden,

You’re three months old and already a thief and a stowaway! You boarded this ship and snuck down the stairs, down into the deepest curves of the hull. You found the treasure chest and stole my gold – my time, my energy, my attention, my love. You moved in and strung up a laundry line of diapers and darling smiles. I know your tricks. And now, you’re sleeping in that big wooden chest, snoring contentedly as the waves sing rock-a-bye baby. You’ve curled up with my heart and I don’t think I’ll be getting it back any time soon. You can have it all little thief. Just promise you’ll never leave.


~lg

Single-handed Theology - I've got a craving . . .

Single-handed theology: theology inspired by motherhood and often carried out with one hand on the baby.

“Like newborn babies, crave pure spiritual milk, so that by it you may grow up in your salvation, now that you have tasted that the Lord is good." 1 Peter 2:2-3

Ever had a craving? Maybe for chocolate, or Frosty Treat ice cream, or a Big Mac, or that morning cup of coffee . . . mmm, I’m getting hungry just thinking about it.

I have a new appreciation for the word now that I’ve seen a newborn in action. When a newborn is hungry, you’ll know. If not by the frantic rooting and finger sucking, then by the inconsolable screams that are soon to come if you don’t get the milk in her mouth fast enough. A newborn’s craving for milk is not something that can be ignored. It’s all consuming.

So when I read this verse now, I wonder if I have the same sort of craving for soul food. Do I start to get a little crazy when I miss out on spiritual nourishment? Does my mouth water when I think of the Lord’s goodness, and does it make me search desperately for more? Of course, the craving is based in the first taste. Yes, you may have been hungry before that first experience of Jesus, but once you tasted, the pure goodness should keep you coming back for more. Have you tasted, truly drank in His goodness? And if you have, do you have that all consuming desire for more?

Too often I’m guilty of pacifier Christianity. I get a little hungry, a little dissatisfied, but instead of reaching out for the good stuff, I get distracted by something easier, the quick fix. How easily I am soothed by sticky sweet pop-culture, by the endless menu of entertainment paraded before me, and my salty self-rationalization. But it’s only temporary. There’s no long term satisfaction. So why do I keep stuffing myself with empty calories, or even a Christian-flavoured soother, when what I really need is a good long feeding from the source?

It’s time to grow up. Time to get a little frantic and drink deep.


~lg

Plumb - "Me"

morning

A quiet morning spent with you
Rocking, reading, singing, feeding
Your smiles set my heart a-beating
Nothing else I'd rather do
Than share this quiet morn with you


~lg

Letters to Arden - July 27, 2010

Dear Arden,

Sometimes in the early morning, when I strip you down and hold you close, you seem to me the newborn again. Soft skin, bright eyes, fuzzy hair. You fit perfectly in my arms, and we snuggle in a shared warmth.
Sometimes I close my eyes and remember the day of your birth, May 17, 2010. You were born at 8:48 am. I don't remember that moment, but you were the last prayer of my heart in the operating room and the first thought on my mind when I woke up. You were so tiny, a gift from God wrapped in your daddy's shirt. Loving strength and warmth were his first gifts to you.
Now I look in your deep blue eyes and see ten weeks of living. They've gone by so fast! But time stands still when we gaze at each other, and I know somehow you have always been part of my heart. And no matter how big, you always will.

~lg

Kingdom Sentry

A raven sits atop the storm-ragged spruce, watching with one gleaming eye turned toward me. She watches through the kitchen window, peering into the mundane events of laundry and email and rinsing blueberries. She watches the seconds tick by as I make my way clockwise around the day. She must hear the baby crying, and laughing, and the songs I sing when no one else is home. She sits, a silent silhouette, a sentry over my thoughts. I leave to go to town, and when I return three hours later she is still there. Black omen or heavenly messenger? She watches, and I imagine I read her mind. The kingdom of God is found in small things. She flies away, blown by a secret wind.

~lg

Letters to Arden - July 11, 2010

Dear Arden,

Be brave, little girl. We will follow Christ. Up the higher ways, mountains too high for us, but He will give us hinds' feet to walk on the heights. We will follow His way. We will learn His steps.

Be brave, little girl. We will love like Christ. And you are already showing me how. He is teaching me through you, and as I learn, I will let the love lessons pass to you. We will wrap love and faithfulness around us, like I have swaddled you, so they will never leave us. He will never leave us.

Be brave, little girl. We may kneel in the thorns of suffering, but love will heal. We may fall on the slippery crags, but love will raise us. We may lose our way in the dark night of the soul, but love will find us. Christ will find us, bind us to Himself.

Be brave, little girl. You are loved. You are Christ's.

~lg

Letters to Arden - July 4, 2010

Dear Arden,

Tomorrow you will be seven weeks old! Seven is the number of perfection, and you are definitely perfect. Everything good about life and existence is bundled into eight or so pounds of you.
It makes me sad and angry to think of the ways we humans degrade and destroy the life, the goodness God gives. I don't want to think that anyone will ever hurt you or take away your innocence. Yet I also know that we are each capable of being masters of our own demise. You may be perfect, but life is also broken, and my heart breaks knowing one day you will wake to pain and suffering.
When God gives us children, I think He gives us a window into His heart. His heart rejoices, breaks, all because of love. And He is the way back to Goodness when life is less than perfect. I have discovered this, and I pray you will find it to be true when you need it to be.
In His goodness, He has also gifted us to bring love into our world. Together with the Spirit, we imagine new ways of living, and loving. There is hope for our world. There is a love that will not disappoint. There is a God who is Good.
His Goodness already shines in your deep blue eyes. I can't wait to see the ways God will love through you. You have already brought so much love into our hearts. He is rejoicing over you, and so am I.
And so, in your tiny seven weeks of perfection, I pray you will know Goodness, that will know our Perfect Father's heart. I pray His heart will become yours, and mine. And I pray I will bring His love into your world.

~lg

Letters to Arden - May 31, 2010

Arden,

You are here! Not the way I expected, but safely, soundly here. Becoming a mother has been baptism by tears. I cried when they told me I wouldn't be awake when you were born. I cried when I first saw your face cradled in daddy's arms. I cried through countless feedings, knowing my pain would keep you growing. I cried rocking you to sleep, because you were too beautiful for words.
And now you are starting to smile! It's a dopey smile of content mostly, right after a feeding, and in those warm moments when you are beginning to wake and haven't realized how hungry you are yet. In your smile I see glimpses of your personality, little peeks of what is to come.
And so I smile for you every day. I try to smile even when I'm in pain, when I'm tired, when I'm overwhelmed by all that is new, all that is you. I want you to see love in my face. I want you to know how happy I am that you are here.


~ lg

Cry No More

Cry no more – spring is here
Autumn’s decay has been put to death
Neath the gentle cold of snow
And the miracle of winter is that
The wasteland of fallen dreams
Now rises strong and sweet in the veins of the trees
Your tears are water for their leaves
Leaves which burst out with a green laugh
The evidence of things unseen


~lg

Easter prayer

Roll away my heart of stone
Bring to life a heart of flesh
Emerging from the grave of pride
The place of my dark selfishness

Surrendered in humility
Spirit, raise me from the dead
Easter life, create in me
A heart reborn, a heart set free


~lg

holy time

Lent.

A time of emptying. A time to wrestle with weakness. A time to uproot, a time to kill.

A time to deny. A time to surrender.

A time to let go.


Good Friday.

A time to abandon all earthly hope, all fleshly striving, and pride's last defenses.

A time to descend into a small dark space and await the quickening light of morning.

The only thing left is the miracle.


~lg

called living

And yet, within our ordinary lives, we hold an extraordinary treasure. We have become part of God’s life, God’s story, God’s work in the world. This weight of glory cannot be taken lightly. We each have a role to play, as individuals and as a community. We are part of a new kingdom, under the lordship of Christ, and we are to pray and work for God’s will to be done on earth as in heaven.

We have each been given gifts with which to fulfill our roles. The trick is knowing what they are and how God wants us to use them. There is no self-help book or personality test that can fully reveal your role in the kingdom. This understanding comes through prayer, contemplation, practice and community. This understanding comes through the supernatural wisdom of the Spirit, wisdom which works itself out day to day as we listen to His voice.

Sometimes we can get caught up in “calling anxiety.” (Guilty as charged.) We wonder what our purpose is, whether we’re fulfilling it, whether we’re doing enough. We compare ourselves to our role models, our peers, constantly measuring ourselves by an artificial standard. We define ourselves by all kinds of standards of “success,” often garnered uncritically from pop-culture, or even pop-Christian culture. We may be losing the discipline of spiritual discernment, especially in the context of a Christian community. And so we worry and wonder, burning spiritual and emotional energy, feeling lost and ineffective.

The answer is less an answer than a process. We must be willing to enter an ongoing conversation with ourselves and the Spirit. We must be willing to take an honest look at the gifts, abilities and inclinations God has given us – including our limitations. When we submit ourselves to the Spirit, we open ourselves up to His limitless creativity. He is the one that fits our roles to our circumstances, that opens doors to new possibilities, that inspires us with new ideas. And we do not work alone. God places us in particular communities where He fits us to accomplish more together, where He gives a common vision. We must learn to listen to His voice together. What is the Spirit saying to you? What is the Spirit saying to the church?

There is no need to worry. Listen, trust, obey. It’s going to look different for everybody.

The fun thing about this is that there are no set rules. Our passions are as varied as our personalities, and God loves to ignite them with his purposes. God is a limitless being, and the possibilities are endless.

So we set out to work in the Father’s kingdom, with the Spirit alongside, living out our Lord’s prayer. It is only in this Trinitarian dynamic that we live fully.


~lg

believe in life

I have a feeling motherhood will produce an ontological change in me.

There are certain things I must believe going into this.


I have to believe in the project of life, in its goodness, its purpose, before I can be entrusted to shape one.
I have to believe that the little acts of love and care matter as much as the grandiose academic and ministerial achievements of my peers.
I have to believe that somehow being part of God's creative and nurturing process is a worthy calling in and of itself, because God loves to create life, loves to love the ones He creates, longs to embrace them and thereby transform them into loving, creative, joyful, thankful marvelous individuals.
I have to believe that I can either invite or reject God's kingdom, Christ's lordship, in my own home and relationships, in the way we raise our children.
I have to believe God loves me as much when I'm changing diapers as when I'm preparing Bible studies, and that diapers are as much his agent of transformation as theological debates.
I have to believe the way we live matters, even when that way seems tedious, or monotonous, or tiring.
I have to believe God is active in the sphere of housework, cooking, playing, talking.
I have to believe he is a present at our table, as at the altar, upon my hearth and in my garden, in observing the days and seasons.
I have to believe life is a gift worth celebrating in small ways through small joys, worth living simply because it is from God, worth living well because it is being renewed in a glorious image.
I have to believe the Spirit speaks and directs me as a mother as much as any minister, that His breath blows in my own backyard.
I have to believe in life.

~lg