Solitude and Silence

I suck at being alone.

I mean, I am terrified of it. That can be seen by the title of this blog-- transforming in community. I do not enjoy transforming all by myself.

However, I do have this inner longing to be closer with God. Everyone does.

The thought of practicing this discipline was the most terrifying for me. But now, as I have practiced it and given it some thought, I have left it with a sense of inner peace I have not felt in-- well, maybe my whole life. In some ways, I wish I was still alone, instead of being in a house full of people as I type this on my laptop. So, let me give you a run-down on what I did week's spiritual practice.

Mode of practice: walk around Reeds Lake; a path that is a little over 4 miles long. Alone.

Equipment: Underarmour shirt-1. Warm sweatshirt-1. Outer shell-1. Wool socks-2. Ski hat-1. Scarf, wrapped numerous times around ears, neck and chin-1. Cozy gloves-2. iPod- none. Cellphone- silent. Car keys- 1 set.

As I walked, all I did was think. Well, sometimes I thought. Sometimes I just rested and focused on putting one foot in front of the other.

I had no life-altering revelations, but that was not what I was going for here (I've learned throughout the course of this semester that these disciplines require repeated practice if we truly want to have deep growth happen inside of us).  Instead, I have a few observations for you.

Observation 1: I can't be silent.
I really can't. When I am alone, I usually sing to myself. Or talk to myself. I tried really, really hard to stay quiet so I wouldn't distract myself. A few times, the words of a song would spit themselves out of my mouth, but after I realized what I was doing, I stopped again. Not that I think there is anything wrong with talking. However, I found the silence to be invigorating. I didn't want to disrupt it. The only words I spoke the whole time I was alone were while I was in the car, after my walk. A driver committed a certain driving violation, and, in my snarky way, I had to tell her off in the safety of my own car. I was a little disappointed in myself that all I had to say was something negative, but there you go. I am depraved.

Observation 2: There is always a rhythm.
As I walked, my shoes pounded out a slow, steady beat. And, since I always have at least one song running through my head, the beat kept the song going. As soon as I began walking the trail, the words to "I Surrender All" came into my head. For a full hour and a half I repeated over and over, "All to Jesus, I surrender. All to him I freely give. I will ever love and trust Him; in his presence daily live. I surrender all. All to thee, my blessed Savior. I surrender all." So, as I walked, I surrendered it all. Something I noticed about this process was that as I surrendered, I was comforted. By this point in my walk, I was completely zoned in on me and Jesus. I was not allowing myself to stress about anything else. So as I surrendered, I did not worry about what God would do. I didn't even manufacture the feeling of contentment that I sometimes do. I genuinely gave it to him. And instead of feeling out of control and anxious, I felt free.

Observation 3: Snow.
It snowed. So very much. And no matter which direction I was walking, somehow the snow managed to always be flying directly in my face. But that is not the point. I noticed as I walked that the snowflakes were falling perfectly-- I could see each six-pointed shape as it cascaded down from the sky. Each one would rest on the path for a moment, and then disappear. I put my hands out in front of me and caught a snowflake. A perfect one. I let it rest on my glove for a solid three minutes. I must have looked like a complete lunatic to the few cars that drove by-- walking slowly, staring intently at my glove. But I didn't care. I was amazed at the tiny crystal in my hand. I felt like it was my duty to protect this little guy from danger. After I turned the snowflake over and over in my hand, I decided it was time to say goodbye. I breathed on it, once, twice, three times, ever so gently. And it slowly, peacefully, melted away. A few minutes later, as I stared up in the sky, a sense of the wonder at creation overwhelmed me and I felt myself begin to cry. I let the emotion roll over me and through me and around me until all I could feel was awe. Our God is amazing and beautiful.

Observation 4: Sounds
I heard my footsteps, my breathing, the rustle of my coat. I heard the wind whip through the trees. I heard the heavy snowflakes fall on the pavement. I heard cars drive by. I heard people talking. I heard police sirens. I heard a squirrel romping through crunchy leaves. I heard the leaves crinkle on the pathway.I heard it all, and closed my eyes, so I could hear more. It amazing how many sounds you can find when you are being silent.

Observation 5: It wasn't as bad as I thought.
I didn't want it to end. That is, until I reached the three mile mark and the snow really started pelting my face. I couldn't see, I was freezing cold and my foot kind of hurt. But I wanted to remain in the silence. I wanted to keep being alone with God. We talked; although I mostly talked. And sometimes we were quiet together, but God was there the whole time. I was afraid to go into the world and be distracted from the connection I had with God while I was alone with Him. I'm managing, but I look forward to practicing this discipline again.

And those are my observations. Maybe not profound or life-altering, but they are real. Ultimately, I learned the value of solitude and silence. Hopefully I can begin to translate this practice into my everyday life; finding ways to be alone with God even when I'm not all alone on a sidewalk being attacked by a snowstorm.

Peace to you,
Sara Joy

Simply seeking God

When I think of simplicity, the words of Henry David Thoreau echo in my mind: Simplify, simplify, simplify!

All right, already. I think I got the message, Henry.

In this day and age of Pinterest and smartphones and credit cards the call to simplify can seem like a call from the past. Even Christians get sucked into our materialistic culture and ask, "Didn't God bless me with money so I can have all these nice things?"

Umm.... hate to break it to you, but probably not.

Living simply is a way for Christians to truly utilize the gifts they have been given to do better for others. Christians can be generous with the things they have and avoid getting things they do not need. In a society where we encounter millions of advertisements a day, it is hard to make the distinction between what we want and what we need, but a distinction there is nonetheless. What helps us to make the distinction is laid out for us in Matthew 6:33:

But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.

When we put God first, everything falls into place. No matter how many times I hear this, it still rings true. When we put God first, the things we own and invest our money in do not seem to matter as much. When we put God first, living simply becomes the natural thing to do.

The idea of living simply is not a new one to me. Growing up, my parents did not buy things we did not need.  I had a strict dress code/ uniform in high school which meant my clothes back then were simple. It was never the "things" that mattered. Sometimes I was a little bit embarrassed that we didn't have cable television or a cottage to go to in the summertime, but they were not things I missed when I was growing up (instead I learned to enjoy my friends' cottages and cable TV).

Interestingly enough, it was not until I started college that I started to grow away from the simple lifestyle I was used to. I was free to do what I wanted; to have the the things I wanted (and needed). I formed vanity about all my unique things-- my polka-dotted frying pan, my pink antique lamp, my exotic futon. The few extra dollars it cost to have something unique over the standard item was well worth it in my eyes.

This thinking overwhelmingly applied to clothes. In part because of the dress code I grew up with, I had a limited selection of "normal" clothes. When I got to college, I bought clothes left and right. Even so, I do not have an excessive amount of clothes. What I do have is an assortment of pieces that I take great pride in. I love this yellow cardigan, and those pink pants, and that blue scarf. When I get dressed in the morning, I look forward to the compliments I am sure to get that day on my outfit. And if anyone dares to have the same item of clothing as I do, it immediately goes to the bottom of the drawer. Uniqueness is my thing. Don't mess with it.

So now I sound like a psychotic protector of clothing. I'm not crazy, I promise. I just want to give some background in order to explain what I chose to do for my practice of simplicity this week. After much thought and wrestling, I decided to wear only plain t-shirts and jeans for a week. As in the free, box-shaped t-shirts that you get from visiting colleges and doing service projects. I have plenty of those, and I only wear them when I work out (which has become a rare occurrence recently).

I forgot on the first day of my practice, grabbing an outfit that I looked forward to wearing that day. Then I remembered: t-shirt! So I sadly put away my sophisticated clothes and put on my purple Kuyper College tee. At least I was showing some school spirit.

And, just like that, I got through this week. Acting out the practice did not bring me any spiritual epiphanies, although I did realize that dressing simply is SO much quicker and easier than stressing about choosing clothes for the day. I also learned that people liked me when I wore plain clothes just as much as when I dressed up (my boyfriend was sure to remind me I am still beautiful even when my hair is in a ponytail and I'm wearing a t-shirt. Love that guy). So maybe the overall thing I will take away from this week is that simplicity breeds contentment. I knew that I was not trying to impress others, so why would I waste time wishing I was gaining other people's approval? I was content in my own skin and enjoyed the peace that brought to my surprisingly hectic week.

However, as hinted at before, I did not do a good job of truly seeking God this week. My real spiritual challenge came at the beginning of the week when I was deciding how to practice this discipline. God did work on my heart then, and I have been convicted about the worth I put into my necessary but *unique* possessions. I seek to continue working on that. I have been especially convicted about seeking God's kingdom first. I have been distracted the past few days, but I want to get back on track.

So I'm seeking first his kingdom. I look forward to the simplicity that will hopefully follow.

Thanks for reading,
Sara Joy

Studying Love

This week's post is about the spiritual practice of study.

Here's the problem: I study all the time. I go to a Bible college, where I have to take at least one Bible or Theology class every semester! I think I have a handle on what the Bible is all about.

However, if you read my Spiritual Autobiography, you may remember that reading the Word of God was the thing that drew me closer to God. I understand (and am still growing to understand) the fact that scripture is living and active. Thus, even though I am surrounded by constant study of the Bible, taking time to understand what God is trying to say to me through repetitive and concentrated study is never wasted time.

Even though I recognize the usefulness of studying the Bible, it was hard for me to come up with a way to practice this discipline, because I wanted to do something that was different from what I do in school. Thankfully, our professor recommended reading a passage of the Bible twice a day over a period of time. She specifically recommended 1 Corinthians 13, the all-too-famous love passage. I decided to take her up on that suggestion.

The first day, I was a little skeptical. As I read, I thought, "Yeah, I do a pretty good job of loving people. I am kind, I do not delight in evil, I protect the people I love. I am doing well in this area." I could also name a few people who I knew did not love very well.

And then I thought "Whoa, now, Sara. You are not approaching this text with a loving attitude." The next time I read, I tried to look at it in a different light. I examined myself. The first few verses of the chapter hit home Paul's point that anything I do is futile if it does not stem out of love. I was convicted. I fail at loving people; both the people I do like and the people I do not like. I fail at doing things out of love; I do things out of obligation or of stubbornness or selfishness. Certainly not out of love.

The next few times, I had similar convicting experiences. Then, yesterday morning and the night before, I had something of an epiphany.

First, some background: Over the past month or so, I have begun to consider changing my career path a little bit. I have started to feel a pull in a direction I never thought I would go, but is on my heart constantly. The thought of this change is so exciting to me that I have had trouble discerning whether it is change in itself that excites me, if it seems like it would be "easier" than my current path and that is what excites me, or if it is really a call from God and that is what excites me.

As I read this passage with the attitude of love, and also of contemplation, the first few verses again stuck out to me:

"If I speak in human or angelic tongues, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing." 

Okay, so this text was not the lightning bolt from the sky that I've been hoping would shed some extremely direct light on the situation. It did not say, "Choose path B." But it did help me realize how I need to approach this decision. It helped me understand how to "choose" my path.

With love.

As I make this life decision, I have to consider which path will lead me to love more. One path has all the appearance of love, but I feel like I may not be able to genuinely love in the way I am called to do so. On the other path it may be harder to discern how I will show love, but it is also the path that I will be able to love more freely in.

And maybe my attitude about that will change. I have only been meditating on this scripture for five and a half days. I still need to pray, continue to seek the wisdom of those who have been in my place before, and see the doors that God opens up for me. But this scripture is the first step on the road to making a final decision.

I'll let you know how that goes.

May your love abound,
Sara Joy