day 1 (or, hello october)

This morning was chilly - fifty something degrees, and I sat on the porch and sipped coffee in only a flimsy nightgown, just to feel the cold. I love the person I become each fall - the studious, disciplined Heather, suddenly aware of this big open road stretched wide before me. There is so much possibility, it seems.

Fall Heather does things that Summer Heather would totally roll her eyes over. I get weird about crafts and collecting buggy leaves and pinecones outside, hoping to turn them into chic decor. I read not just for fun, but to seriously study things like theology and even a little philosophy. I paint my nails deep purple and suddenly get excited about socks and mauve lipstick. Mauve, which always ends up being a mistake.

I know this version of me; she's a familiar friend by now. One of those weird friends you don't fully understand, but still really like.

And just like always, I have a fallish craving to learn, to really apply myself to something. Some years it's writing a novel, or painting, or (heaven help us) learning to cook.

This year, however, I have a sudden desire to grow and be stretched in my faith like I haven't in a long time. All this Jesus-y stuff that can sometimes feel so reduntant is suddenly new and alive and exciting.

I'm still reading straight through the Bible, still trying to figure out what it means to put myself in God's Story. But I'm also delving into deep waters that I haven't quite ventured into before - learning about the spiritual disciplines and what it means to truly die to myself, in one way or another, every day. Fasting, meditation, solitude...this has mostly just been head knowledge to me up until now. But I'm discovering the joy and surprises of taking my walk with God seriously and it's opening up my stubborn little heart.

Part of me is concerned. Is this just Fall Heather, getting excited about learning and trying new things? Is this just a phase or a fad, this spiritual discipline stuff?

Maybe it is. Maybe I'm not sincerely seeking God, and am instead just trying to "do better." I really don't know. But I'm also thinking maybe it doesn't hurt to try. I'd rather do something in the excitement of a new season, for maybe slightly skewed intentions, than not do it at all.

Journeying Through the Bible

I had a lot of thoughts at the beginning of the year, as one does. Thoughts about goals and habits to make and break. I wrote this long list, a manifesto, of all that I could and would do in 2014. But it was about a week into the year when I thought, "Wait, what do these things matter if I still feel as confused and distant from God as I did this time last year? What's the point of writing my first novel or reading this certain list of books when I haven't actually even read the entire Bible? What is going on here?"

I have a lot of things I still want to do and make with my hands and say, "Look what I learned how to do this year!" But, after an exhausting day early in the year of trying to figure out how to do all the things and make all my wildest dreams come true, I made a decision. I said to myself, "You know, if I accomplish nothing else besides reading through the Bible this year, that'll be enough."

There are words in my head begging to be written, songs I want to learn to play, people to invite to dinner and projects to complete for the apartment. Check, check, check off my list. But I'm trying to let God be the center of it all by immersing myself in his story, letting it challenge and move me and stretch my imagination. Stretch my image of who God is. 

I have no idea where, exactly, I should be in the Bible if I want to finish it by December 31. No clue. I'm not following a plan or doing anything special, I'm just reading it straight through. Cover to cover.  But right now I'm in 1 Kings, smack dab in the middle of all those favorite stories of the Old Testament. The Bible, though I've read most of it in bits and pieces since I could read, is surprising me everyday. Some of the stories made me cry - when Esau runs to his brother Jacob and embraces him? It tore me up as if I'd never heard the story before. Some of it has made me laugh out loud, the deep throaty kind when you're totally caught by surprise. Seriously, parts of Judges are downright comical. 

But what's really taken me by surprise is how much I get lost in these stories, the ones I so often skimmed past. How everything changes when I can see myself in the story, which helps me to see God at work in my own story. It's exhilarating. 

There are so many voices in Christian culture, so many good and true voices, thoughts, ideas, methods. But as I'm learning to truly study the Bible, I can't help but think This is all we need. Why haven't I really read the Bible for myself before? Why have I relied on pastors and cute devotional books instead of the Holy Spirit, who wants to breathe life into his Word and make it come alive in me. 

I'm embarrassed that, at almost twenty-five, this is all so exciting and new for me. But, if you're feeling stuck and uninspired, be encouraged that it can become exciting and new for you, too. Just ask him.

on life lately

This winter has been a struggle for me.

It seems like every winter is, really. The monotony of cold and grey skies always pushes me deep inside my already-introspective self. And the deeper I am into myself, it seems, the further I am from God.

Working retail in January, February is no joke either, and the lack of shifts certainly didn't help matters. It left me with plenty of time to sit on my couch and think about things like, oh I don't know, mortality. Purpose in this fleeting life. Why I have such a problem figuring out what to make for dinner every night (I've fallen into a chicken trap.)

And what, I wondered, is the purpose in all this? In living most of my life in this tiny apartment, thinking of all the grand things I could and should be doing with my life. Isn't there more?

We were quietly sipping tea one afternoon when Trevor looked at me and said, "You're not a very happy camper these days," which was his kind husband way of saying, Would you quit moping around, woman? Also, the bathroom hasn't been clean in weeks.

So I swung open the door and invited him in to my own personal pity party. He wasn't as entertained by my dramatic monologue as I, however; the overly dramatic one I had been rehearsing in my head all winter. After I was through explaining my small little tragedy, he said, "Heather, don't you know you have to create purpose?"

I didn't like that. Create purpose? Okay, well, yeah, if I was free to pack up and do whatever I wanted, that would be easy. I'd sell my stuff and do something meaningful like teach English in Guatemala or start an orphanage or something and drag Trevor along with me. But I can't do anything, I said, when we're stuck here.

"Do you think the people in this community are any less important?" he asked.

Ouch.

He was right. I didn't want to look around and see the needs around me because that would mean taking a small step outside myself. And isn't it the small steps that are often so much harder than the big ones? It would be so much easier for to to sign up for a mission trip to a remote village in Africa  than to initiate a conversation with the girl in the corner of the room who looks as lonely as I feel.

This life, I began to see over this long lonely winter, is not about me. It's not even about what I can do to make a difference in the world. It is only, only, only about Jesus. I had to grasp that before I could even think about how I could be used by Him to serve and bless others. Isn't it funny how we can make idols out of the things that are so good?

Spring is coming, in little bursts of sun between the wind and little snowflake icons on the weather reports. My heart is free for the first time in months because Jesus didn't just set me free, he is setting me free every day. There's a sense of newness and bravery and stepping out in nervous faith. I'm watching in awe as God is beginning to use me right here in the squeaky clean suburbs of North Carolina. Because He is too big to be confined to only one method of ministry, one way of living for Him.

So that's where I am. That's what I've been wrestling with and why I've been so silent here the past few months. But finally I'm recharged and energized and a little like a kid coming home from church camp because there is so much passion fired up in my belly right now. This season is good. This life is good.

Chicken casserole for dinner every night is not good, but I'm working on that, too.

thoughts on solitude

"I felt closer to my fellow men, too, even in my solitude. For it is not physical solitude that actually separates one from other men, not physical isolation, but spiritual isolation. It is not the desert island nor the stony wilderness that cutes you from the people you love. It is the wilderness of the mind, the desert wastes in the heart through which one wanders lost and a stranger. When one is a stranger to oneself then one is estranged from others too. If one is out of touch with oneself, then one cannot touch others."

Anne Morrow Lindbergh, Gift From the Sea

"Guard your steps when you go to the house of God. Go near to listen rather than to offer the sacrifice of fools, who do not know that they do wrong."

Ecclesiastes 5:1

I've been thinking a lot about solitude lately, mostly because the subject keeps popping up in nearly everything I read. Even the fiction book I'm reading, The Light Between Oceans, is about solitude, about a lighthouse keeper and his wife living alone on a tiny island.

And, you know, as an introvert I'm all about spending time alone. That's my happy place. But I think that true solitude is about more than that; it means stilling your heart and mind more than (or along with) your physical surroundings. I spend a lot of time alone, but I've only recently started making it more purposeful.

I'm trying to intentionally seek out quiet time in which I simply sit and listen. This is something that's always been hard for me, just sitting there, waiting. What was the point, I thought, when I can't hear Him speak?

But now I'm finding that, even though I don't necessarily hear Him speak in those minutes of silence, it somehow opens up my heart to hear Him at unexpected moments as I go about my day. Maybe that's what it's about, giving Him room to come on in.

I want to continue to explore this solitude thing more. Make it a way of life. Because being alone in and of itself is not life giving. I can be constantly check my phone, flitting aimlessly from one project to another, not really settled in my spirit. But true solitude is a stillness of the heart, a peace that gives the day meaning, intention, and a sense of awareness of what really matters. An openness to God and to people.

Join me?

an update of sorts

If you read this post you know that I am slowly teaching myself (or, rather letting God teach me) to not be afraid of the Bible. I'm trying to come to terms with it, you could say. Figuring out how I'm going to approach it as an adult, not just as a fuzzy-feeling grabbing consumer living off of quick bits from devotion books, only ever knowing the interpretations of others.

As I mentioned earlier, I'm reading through Eat This Book by Eugene Peterson, sort of as a guide to opening my eyes to new ways of reading Scripture. And though it's not a fun, quick read, it's giving me some foundational truths to take with me as I pull out my Bible every morning. It's teaching me to approach the Word in its entirety first as a story, to ask how and where I fit into God's great story instead of the other way around. Which, up until recently, was how I always read the Bible: as a self-help book rather than God's love story to us.

What we must never be encouraged to do, although all of us are guilty of it over and over, is to force Scripture to fit our experience. Our exprience is too small; it's like trying to put the ocean into a thimble. What we want is to fit into the world revealed by Scripture, to swim in this vast ocean.

Eugene Peterson

(Hope that was a relevant quote and not an awkward break in the post. Gosh it's a good thing I'll never have to write a term paper again. I remember nothing.)

I'm sure most of you have heard of the She Reads Truth Bible reading plan. I had read a few series before (or a few days of a series, if you want to know the truth), but it never stuck. But when I saw that this summer's plan was on women of the Bible, I decided to give it another shot. And it is so, so good. What I love about She Reads Truth is that they are not about giving you a cute, quick verse coupled with a flowery devotional intended to make you better, sweeter, more Southern, etc. It is totally Gospel-centered, totally revolving around the story of the Bible.

For the first time in years, I am excited to read the Bible. I look up to the ceiling and shrug, like here I am God. See, I'm trying here. And sometimes He responds in these sweet, subtle ways that help me make it through the week. I beg to fall in love with His word every time I open it, and by george, I do. There's good stuff in there. I am scribbling in my Bible like a mad woman, and it feels good.

Of course, it's not always like this. Some mornings before work I can barely keep my eyes open and eventually give up to go scramble some eggs instead (and then get irritated to the point of almost cussing out loud when I can't get that last darn eggshell out of the bowl. And usually by then it's all over.)

But, overall, I am continuing to read with my love-tinted glasses and that is truly making the difference.

Also? Thank you all so much for your kind comments, prayers, links to sermons, etc. It means so much to me. As I'm still getting used to a new church and finding ways to get connected, I'm so thankful for my online community. You're the best.

in which i admit to being afraid of the Bible

I, little miss pastor's wife, have a confession to make. I do not particularly enjoy reading the Bible. In fact, I would say I'm sometimes downright afraid of it. Suspicious, even; the way you are suspicious around a favorite male cousin you haven't seen in a year whose voice is now several octaves deeper.

There are many times when I'm splashing around the Old Testament when my heart suddenly begins beating in a wild flurry and I beg, "God, surely you didn't mean that. Where is the Greek translation for this paragraph, anyway?" I wish I had a wise, sympathetic old theologian beside me at all times (preferably a universalist because they seem so darn cheery), explaining away all the scary, paradoxical, mind-blowing passages.

Now, I know. There is an unfathomable, poetic beauty in serving a God we can't explain or fully understand. Of course. I love to ponder the mystery of God in relation to time and space, I love that he is so infinitely beyond our imagination.

What bothers me is the nitty gritty (did you say that in Nacho Libre's voice? Because I did.) You know, little things like genocide. God sending an evil spirit upon Saul (what?) Just to name a few. Is it any surprise that most devotionals only cover a portion of the Bible, only touch on the parts that, even if they don't make us feel good, at least make sense? I am constantly brought back to the same questions: Is any of this real? Is this supposed be taken literally? Is this really good news? So I sigh, flip open my pink devotional, and pretend that everything is rosy and can fit snugly into my allotted ten minutes.

And yet. And yet I know I cannot follow Jesus closely with this attitude of fear and distrust. I can't live the rest of my Christian life off of fuzzy devotions. It's time for this girl to take a deep, shaky breath and dive in. I cringe to imagine God, at the end of my life, asking me why I never used this great love of books he's given me to read the one that mattered most.

So as I pore through even the most disturbing passages, I want to read them through love-tinted glasses. Because, deep down, I believe that everything God says and does is love inspired. And while I want to be influenced by God's voice alone, I know I'm going to need some help learning how to actually read the Bible. Because unlike what I was taught in Sunday school, it is not actually all meant to be read the same way.

I'm starting with Eat This Book by Eugene Peterson (who wrote/translated The Message.) And we'll see where I go from there. I don't have a definitive start date because, frankly, I'm burnt out from goals and the like. And I don't want this to be another source of guilt and "how far have I gotten today?" It's not about that right now. I may be starting tomorrow or next week or Thanksgiving--I have no idea and I really don't care. What I care about is being brave and learning to really, really trust God, that he is who he says he is. I've just gotta know.

The music was playing softly behind me as I typed this post, so soft I could barely hear it over the rumbling thunder outside. And as soon as I finished typing, for whatever reason, I reached out and turned up the volume. It was not set to Christian station but, of all things, a reggae singer was crooning, "Don't worry, child, God is so good." Over and over and over.

Don't worry, child, God is so good.