Tag: Hope

What is Faith? -Embracing the Mystery

Okay, friends, let’s talk about faith. Not the Sunday School, paint-by-numbers kind, or the cool flannel-graphs (I loved those) but the real, gritty, gut-level stuff.

We’re diving into Hebrews 11, verses 1 through 3, and I gotta tell you, these verses? They’re fire (more cringe eye-rolling from my kids).

“Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.”
Boom. Right out of the gate. Confidence. Assurance.

These aren’t just warm fuzzies, they’re verbs. They’re active. Faith isn’t passive, it’s a muscle. It’s something you do. It’s leaning into the unknown, believing in the unseen.  

Think about it. How much of your life is based on things you haven’t seen? Love? Hope? Justice? You can’t hold them in your hand, weigh them on a scale, but they’re real, aren’t they? More real, sometimes, than the chair you’re sitting in.

That’s faith.

It’s the deep-down knowing that there’s more to this story than what we can see with our eyeballs.

The writer of Hebrews goes on: “This is what the ancients were commended for.” Whoa. Think about that for a second. Abraham, Sarah, Moses, all those folks we read about in the Old Testament – their faith wasn’t some abstract concept. It was how they lived. It was the engine of their lives. It propelled them forward, even when things looked absolutely insane. They were commended, not for having all the answers, but for daring to trust in the questions.

And then, the kicker: “By faith we understand that the universe was formed at God’s command, so that what was seen was not made out of what was visible.” Mind. Blown. This is huge.

The writer is saying that the very fabric of reality, the cosmos itself, came into being not from something we can see, but from something…else. Something beyond our comprehension. Something…divine.  

Think about that. Everything you see, everything you touch, everything you experience – it all originates from something invisible. Something beyond our grasp. That’s faith, right there. It’s acknowledging the mystery, the vastness, the sheer wonder of it all. It’s admitting that we don’t have all the answers, and maybe, just maybe, that’s okay. Maybe won’t don’t just stop at acknowledging this mystery, but we move closer and closer to embracing it as well.

So, what does this mean for us, today? Well, maybe it means we can stop trying to control everything. Maybe it means we can relax a little bit into the mystery – lean into it. Maybe it means we can start to trust that even when we can’t see the path ahead, there’s something there. Something good. Something beautiful. Something…more.

Maybe, just maybe, it’s time to embrace the unseen. To lean into the questions. To have faith. Not because we have all the answers (because we don’t), but because we trust that there’s a story being written, a story much bigger than ourselves.
And maybe, just maybe, we’re a part of it.

Grace and Peace,
-Pastor Scott.

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Disappointment: The Soil of Hope.

Hello friends,

It seems contradictory to group the concept of disappointment with hope, but give this pondering space to breathe and perhaps you’ll agree with me.

Disappointment. It’s a familiar ache, a sinking feeling that settles in our bones when things don’t go as planned. Dreams deferred, expectations shattered, the weight of unmet potential – it can feel suffocating.

But what if disappointment isn’t the enemy? What if it’s actually the fertile ground where something new and unexpected can grow?

Think about it. Have you ever experienced a crushing disappointment that ultimately led to a path you never could have imagined? A lost job that forced you to pursue your true passion. A heartbreak that opened your eyes to a deeper capacity for love.

Disappointment, in its raw, unfiltered form, can feel brutal. It can shake us to our core, strip us bare, and leave us questioning everything. But within that emptiness, there’s a space for something new to emerge. A space for creativity, for resilience, for a deeper understanding of ourselves and our place in the world. It’s like shucking off an outer shell only to reveal something so much better.

This isn’t about denying or minimizing the pain of disappointment. It’s about recognizing that within that pain lies a seed of possibility. It’s about trusting that even in the darkest of nights, there’s a sunrise waiting…if we’re patient.

So, the next time you find yourself grappling with disappointment, try to see it differently. See it not as an ending, but as a turning point. See it as an invitation to explore new paths, to cultivate new dreams, to discover a deeper, more authentic version of yourself.

Hope isn’t about ignoring the pain. It’s about finding the courage to believe that something beautiful can emerge from the ashes. It’s about trusting that even in the midst of the storm, there’s a quiet strength within you, a resilience that will see you through.

So trust the process as God prepares the path, even in our current disappointments – He is there.
Grace and Peace,
-Scott.

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5 Truths for the Abandoned Leader: Finding Refuge in God’s Presence.

Hey Friends,

I’m going to go off-script today. I apologize in advance. This blog post is for all of my Pastor and Lay leader friends. I write these words to encourage you. So, as Jesus said, “he who has ears to hear…”

I know what it feels like to stand in the pulpit, to shepherd God’s people, and yet, at times, to feel utterly alone. The weight of ministry can press down on us like a heavy burden, leaving us feeling abandoned and isolated. You may feel like no one truly knows what you do. Some assume you just show up on Sundays and you kick back Monday through Saturday, but we both know that is far from the truth. No one knows about the phone calls and the texts and how sometimes you feel like you have to hold all of those tenuous relationship lines and if you don’t it will all come crashing down. People will get hurt and some will leave the church.

You may feel like no one else gets you.

But hear this: you are NOT alone.

In those moments of solitude, when it seems like no one understands the struggles you face, remember that Jesus himself experienced the depths of isolation. In his darkest hour, his closest friends slept while he prayed alone in Gethsemane. He understands the ache in your heart and the weariness of your soul.

I want to encourage you with these 5 truths today:

1. God Is Always Present Even when it feels like everyone else has left, God remains steadfast. He promises never to leave us nor forsake us (Deuteronomy 31:6). In your loneliness, draw near to him. Pour out your heart in prayer, knowing that he hears every word.

2. Find Strength in Community Reach out to fellow pastors and leaders who can empathize with your journey. Share your burdens with trusted friends who can pray for you and encourage you. Ecclesiastes 4:9-10 reminds us that “two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor: If either of them falls down, one can help the other up.” We need each other. Take the time to connect with peers in your community. Establish healthy relationships. I don’t care if you’re an introvert or an extrovert, we all need the strength of the right kind of community behind us. When we have like-minded friends, we have people who will say, “I’ve got your back, I’m here for you!” Additionally, when we take the time to seek out these like-minded folks, we begin to build a new community of support and soon we discover that others are also searching for the same space of commonality and comradery.

3. Embrace Vulnerability It’s okay to admit when you’re struggling. Vulnerability is not a sign of weakness but of authenticity. James 5:16 encourages us to “confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed.” As I write this section, I also acknowledge that there are some leaders out there who will misinterpret “struggling” as “not capable” and I want to strongly discourage any leader from rushing to that conclusion. Vulnerability is hard, but there is great strength in letting go of the notion that pastors and leaders have to have it all worked out and you have to have some sort of spiritual perfection to lead. Get over it. Pastors and leaders are just as susceptible to sin and temptation as anyone else. Guard your hearts (Prov. 4:23), and also embrace the need for accountability and vulnerability in your ministry. You should not live in a bubble or an island. When we pop the bubble and join reality, we begin to discard some of the feelings of abandonment and loneliness. In some ways, it’s arrogant to think that no one else gets us, or knows what we are going through. So get serious about popping the bubble and establishing a spirit of vulnerability and surround yourself with trustworthy people (refer back to step 2).

4. Rest in God’s Sovereignty Remember that God is in control, even when circumstances seem overwhelming. Romans 8:28 assures us that “in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” It sounds trite. It’s almost a catchphrase or something you see printed on a cup or an inspirational poster. But, I hope that the words Paul writes in Romans 8:28 strike your heart and are not just utterings for a momentary fix of encouragement. God isn’t sovereign some of the time. He’s not a God of inconsistency. He is constant, and his authority illuminates the darkest corners of our world.

5. Focus on Eternal Impact Ultimately, our labor in the Lord is not in vain (1 Corinthians 15:58). Keep your eyes fixed on the eternal impact of your ministry. Every soul touched, every life transformed, is a testament to God’s faithfulness through you. The problem is we want to see the impact of our ministry. We desire to see transformed lives and for them to line our pews on Sundays. But I think we get it backward sometimes. Jesus didn’t fill pews in a church, He went to people. He gave them value. It wasn’t about some statistical report. He loved people, showed compassion, and impressed upon them to live a better way.

Perhaps some of our feelings of abandonment stem from living in a world where we worship numbers and not God. Our world is so focused on numerical success and achieving bigger and better things, but Jesus gave us an example that is countercultural to all of that human need for notoriety, and chasing statistical perfection. The true impact of your consistent heart of servant leadership may never be seen by the world but it will be celebrated in God’s Kingdom. So, stop chasing numbers and perfection. Kill the super pastor that you envisioned in your mind. Live humbly. It will drastically reduce the stress that you feel when you seek performance instead of worship.

So friends, in the midst of your feelings of abandonment, please know that God sees you, He loves you, and He is with you. He’s not aloof. He’s not kicking back somewhere “wishing you the best”.

So take comfort in his presence. He is very near to you, right now in whatever situation you find yourself in today. He knows. Find strength in community, and trust in his perfect plan. You are not alone in this journey of ministry. Keep fighting. Keep serving. Don’t let up or quit. You got this, and, most importantly – He believes in you.

Grace and Peace,
-Pastorsponderings.

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The Weight of “Should”…

We all carry a backpack.

It’s not the one you carry to school or work, though that one can be heavy enough. This backpack is invisible, yet it weighs us down more than any physical burden. It’s the backpack of “shoulds.”

  • “I should be more disciplined.”
  • “I should be a better parent.”
  • “I should be more successful.”
  • “I should be more spiritual.”

These “shoulds” – whispered by society, by our own inner critic (and sometimes that critic is much worse than the voice of society)– they become our mantra. They create a constant, low-grade anxiety. We strive, we hustle, we compare, all in an attempt to meet these impossible expectations.

But what if we dared to take off the backpack? What if we questioned the very weight of these “shoulds”?

  • What if “should” was replaced with “could”?
  • What if “disciplined” became “curious”?
  • What if “successful” became “joyful”?

The Bible, when read with an open heart, is not a book of endless “shoulds.” It’s a story of grace, of liberation, of finding rest. It’s about encountering the Divine in the messy, beautiful, unpredictable reality of human life.

It’s about discovering that true freedom isn’t about achieving some idealized version of ourselves, but about embracing the unique, messy, and magnificent person we already are. And here’s the beauty, God meets us where we’re at but loves us enough not to leave us there. He journeys with us, far beyond the burden of the “shoulds”.

So, today, let’s try an experiment. Let’s notice the “shoulds” creeping into our thoughts. And then, let’s gently but firmly put them down. Let’s choose lightness over weight. Let’s choose curiosity over judgment. Let’s choose joy over pressure.

The world needs your unique brand of messy, beautiful, humanness. Don’t let the weight of “should” hold you back.

Grace and Peace
-Pastorsponderings.

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“Risk, Trust, Multiply: The Kingdom Math of the Talents”

I used the word Math…please don’t leave. Check this out:

The Parable of the Talents is one of those stories Jesus tells that cuts right to the heart of how we live, doesn’t it? You can find it in Matthew 25:14-30. It’s a tale about a man, his servants, and an outrageous amount of money—talents, as they called them back then. But this story isn’t just about economics; it’s about something far more profound.

Let’s dive in.

A wealthy man is going on a journey. Before he leaves, he entrusts his property to his servants. To one, he gives five talents. To another, two talents. And to the last, one talent. Now, a talent was no small thing. It was a unit of currency worth about 20 years of wages for a laborer. Imagine being handed 20, 40, or 100 years’ worth of earnings all at once. Can you feel the weight of that responsibility?

The man’s instructions? Not explicitly stated, but implied: Do something with it.

The first two servants get to work. They invest, trade, create, risk. And they double what they were given. But the third servant? He digs a hole. He buries the talent. He hides it.

When the master returns, there’s a reckoning. The first two servants present their doubled investments, and the master’s response is ecstatic: “Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master’s happiness!”

But the third servant? He’s afraid. He tells the master, “I knew you were a hard man, harvesting where you have not sown and gathering where you have not scattered seed. So I was afraid and went out and hid your talent in the ground. See, here is what belongs to you.”

And the master’s response? Not what we might expect from a story that starts with such generosity. The master calls the servant wicked and lazy. He takes the one talent and gives it to the one who has ten. And the servant is cast out, into the darkness.

Whew. Heavy, right? So, what’s going on here?

First, let’s talk about the fear. That third servant? He was so paralyzed by fear—fear of failure, fear of judgment, fear of the master—that he did nothing. And isn’t that what fear does? It locks us up. It convinces us to play small, to play safe, to not risk, to not create, to not step out, not to speak up. Fear whispers, “What if you fail? What if you’re not good enough? What if it all goes wrong?” And so we bury our talents. We hide what we’ve been given. We stop ourselves from speaking up with the grains of wisdom God has given us.

But the other two servants? They get it. They understand that the talents aren’t just resources; they’re opportunities. Opportunities to participate in the work of the master. Opportunities to create something, to build something, to grow something. And sure, there’s risk involved. But there’s also trust. Trust that what they’ve been given is enough. Trust that the master’s joy is found in their faithfulness, not their perfection. It’s never been about being perfect.

This parable invites us to ask some big, uncomfortable questions: What have I been given? What opportunities, resources, gifts, passions, abilities, relationships are in my hands right now? And what am I doing with them? Am I investing them, risking them, using them for something bigger than myself? Or am I burying them, hiding them, letting fear call the shots? This isn’t about inflating our egos, or making us look important, it’s about using what God has entrusted to us. All of it is Gods.

And here’s the twist that we can’t miss: The master’s joy isn’t about the amount returned. It’s about the fact that the servants were faithful with what they had. The first servant had five talents, and the second had two. Different amounts, but the exact same affirmation: “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

You see, the parable isn’t about how much you have. It’s about what you do with what you’ve been given. It’s about the courage to show up, to risk, to trust, to invest, to create. It’s about participating in the work of the Kingdom, right here and right now.

So, what if we lived like the first two servants? What if we stepped out of our fear and into faith? What if we trusted that the gifts we’ve been given—no matter how big or small—are enough? What if we stopped burying our talents and started using them to bring light, love, and hope into the world?

Maybe that’s what Jesus is inviting us to in this parable. Not just to see what we’ve been given, but to step into the joy of using it. To risk. To create. To trust. To live fully into the Kingdom work we’ve been called to. And that Kingdom is right here and right now. With us.

Because when we do, we’re not just holding onto what we’ve been given. We’re multiplying it. And that’s where the joy is.

Grace and Peace.
-PastorsPonderings.

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In The Glow of Autumn (when we fell)

“Love fiercely, and expect that few will do the same in return…“
This thought ran through my head…
tandem or inspiration?
Maybe both?
all the while, the sunlight hit your golden hair
all aglow and resplendent
at the peak of sunset on that cold October eve.
My heart leapt
as nature itself seemed to call out
that exception,
that ‘few’ kindred hearts…

I, transfixed, tried to close my mouth
like some dumb ox of a man
slipping and tripping head over-heels
helplessly, heart-sick with
wild devotion’s spell
which had cast its power

deftly upon me.

And having seen you there,
those words that had spilled from my mind
were now void of truth or solace.
New phrases welled up within me
feelings that defied words
far beyond their containment…
and I, awestruck by your visage there,
leaned in and shared that moment
with you…
all the while, determined to freeze time
capture it in a bottle
that is my heart
and pray they it continues to shine
into the very depths of my soul.

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Look What I Discovered Today…(Amazing Grace on the Wind)

For the past two weeks I make the morning and late afternoon drive between Prattville Alabama and Selma. It is a forty six minute drive each way. The scenery will beat any urban bumper to bumper drive hands down. There are rolling pastures of green all splendidly infused with waving deep purple wild violets. They bend and bow in the wind as if in a southern Alabama greeting long lost to the world.

Driving down this two lane highway, where the speed limit is 55 miles an hour, but the raging trucks blow black billowing smoke from their diesel engines as they speed by at 75…I am unperturbed because I am attempting not to miss a single detail of this pastural marvel.

To the right there is a deep shadowy canopy of trees, all purposefully planted years and years ago as cows lazily graze beneath them. There is a bountiful buffet of grass and their bellies attest to this fact as they chew on their cud. I see all of this as I speed by at 60 miles an hour.

Further on down the next curve in the road are workers in blue coveralls and up with the sun as they attempt to raise the frames of a barn. Their labors will soon provide roof and shade to tractors and the large green harvester parked near by. There is a slow steady rhythm to their movements as they languish underneath the heavy beams, ensuring they fall into place only to hoist up another one…on and on down the line.

Lastly I reach the next hill top on the country road and find myself before a bronze historic placard. The placard prominently announces the entrance to an old country church. A United Methodist Church by the name of Ivy Creek. Its name matches the long, majestic driveway curtained on each side by trees and ivy. The old iconic white washed walls with steepled bell-tower top marks years of use and if you were to listen very carefully one can still hear the old church bell, long since removed, calling mournfully for its ancient parishioners and the ghosts of church services of yesteryear.

Perhaps many of the old oaks that line the dust gravel path contain within their own rings a time stamped record of the numerous times “amazing grace” has wafted on the wind and embedded each note and each refrain sung into the porous grains…,embedded so deeply in fact, that the sap running down on the outside of the bark could joyously proclaim the occasional “Hallelujah” to the wind as it passes by.


The sun, golden and new in the morning sky, kisses the side of the old chapel as if God himself has declared that “it is good.” And deep inside of me there is this longing to be caught up in one of those sun rays, golden and resplendent, fresh and new…I want to hear God whisper “it is good“…of me.
I breathe this simple moment in, as I stand all alone at this entrance to this church with its shadow lingering over me. This little glimpse of paradise has been grasped at for just a moment…I am filled with a deep sense of love and warmth in this new day.

And then I get back into my car all the while whispering “Amazing Grace” to the wind.

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The Problem With Submission…

“Submit yourselves, then, to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Come near to God and he will come near to you.” -James 4:7-8

I have a tough time with one word in this passage.
It has nothing to do with God, faith or salvation…it has everything to do with how this word is used in the world, sometimes maliciously, in order to put people in their place.

What is the word?

“Submit”.

I don’t do well with submission.
Honestly, it makes me feel like a prisoner having to obey the warden. (Images of Shawshank Redemption come to mind)…

Perhaps it is because I have personally witnessed that word being used and abused.
Perhaps it is because I struggle with my own need for freedom.
Regardless of the why, there is still the issue with the how…how do I submit…and the ‘who’ – who am I to submit to?

For some of us it is the trust involved in such an act.
Questions like, “what if my trust is betrayed”, and “can I really trust them”?
Many time it isn’t even about submitting to God, but rather authority figures in our own lives; Bosses, business advisors, managers, family members…etc. Then, when we have been burned by submitting to a faulty human-led system, we transplant this disappointment and disillusionment upon God…as if He too is imperfect and will let us down.

I too have struggled with this notion, meanwhile transplanting my own mortal experience upon an immortal God. But have I short changed God when I’ve done this? Do I still struggle with these trust issues? Can I fully submit to God in spite of my past hurts and the numerous failed dumpster fires of attempted human submission?

Maybe I’m overthinking this…have you ever done that?
I’ve counted all of the variables, outcomes, pros and cons way before ever taking a step. My 1st Grade Teacher’s voice keeps ringing in my ear as she said, “look before you leap.” But maybe in this case, it’s the other way round?! Perhaps I just have to go for it and place my all before God when I do.

In James 4:7-8, perhaps it’s more about coming near to God than it is about submitting to Him…because wouldn’t we naturally do that anyway when we really, really know someone? After all, didn’t God come close to us first when He sent Jesus into this messed up world? He met us more than halfway as He hung on a cross for our sins.

You see, I know all of the theological implications of such an act. I know Jesus intellectually, but are there still times when my heart does not know Him…when I’m not near to God, in fact, I couldn’t be further from Him? Have you ever felt like that? We have all of the head knowledge, but when it really comes down to it, there’s a heart issue that still needs working out.

If you’re anything like me, perhaps you’re still trying to reconcile what submission looks like with God. I’ve been on this journey for quite some time, and I feel that the Holy Spirit has led me this far, I’m going to have trust Him in the things I have yet to figure out. He hasn’t given up on me, and I’m positive He certainly hasn’t given up on you either. Perhaps it’s not so much submission that He’s after, but rather a closer relationship with us. After all, doesn’t submission come from a place of trust? I cannot submit to something I don’t trust, and I cannot trust if I don’t come close enough to God.

The trouble with submission is we aren’t close enough to a God who desires a relationship with us…and I’m still working through this. I don’t have a Mary Poppins answer for you, just a notion and a nudge to deepen your relationship with the Almighty…we just might discover that is what was needed all along.

-Something more to ponder today.

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Fear the Walking Faith…It’s a journey!

He replied, “Because you have so little faith. Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.” Matthew 17:20

Oh how our faith can waver sometimes.
It seems that the gusting of a slight breeze of discord or worry can shake our quivering feet of faith.

Have you ever come to a moment of realization that your faith is not as deep as you once thought it was? We all encounter times, while on this journey, where the feel as though we have entered into the desert and we are found lacking in our resolve and fortitude. This journey will take us into places that require us to dig a little deeper and to endure the dry and thirsty places – where we find ourselves questioning everything and reaching further for God…who seems to have gone silent.

Have you been to this place?

I remember when I first learned to swim.
My parents would take me into the deeper part of the waters where my feet couldn’t touch and then let go of me, and as they let go of me they step back out of my reach. I remember there was a momentary panic. The saving hands were no longer on me and I found myself struggling to keep my head above the waters. I remember having to reach out my arms while kicking my feet so that I could reach the safety again. As I did this, without realizing, I began to swim by myself for the first time.

My intentions were not to swim. My intention was to reach the safe arms of my parents who were just out of reach.

There is growth within the tension and fear.
Growth that can only take place when we are left to our own devices.
Growth that can only transpire within the turmoil and desert places of our faith journey.

It is as if God steps back from us, and we are faced with the seemingly terrifying notion that we must step into the deep alone. The truth is that we are most certainly not alone, but rather there is growth that is only found in desert. And so we step out, unsure of ourselves…unsure if we can reach those safe arms of Christ again.

Remember Peter on the waters before Jesus?
He is asked to step out into a turbulent, uncertain space.
Peter takes a couple of steps, loses sight of the arms of Christ and begins to sink.
He takes his eyes off of Jesus.
He considers the impossibilities of such a journey.
He must have recalled his inability to do this feat, and as the doubt sinks in so does Peter.

We often chastise Peter for his lack of faith.
We often sermonize this passage to implicate the lack of resolve that ‘the Rock’ had…
But where were the other disciples?
Do we read about their steps of faith on the waters? No.
They were still in the boat watching it all go down.

We have to get out of our boats.
We will encounter dry and thirsty times in our faith journey.
It will feel as if we are all alone out in the wilderness, but we are not alone.
God steps back and watches us within the tension of deeper waters.
And it is within those deeper spaces that we grow.
It is through perseverance that our character and the very image of Christ becomes clearer in us.

Some have turned back and returned to the safe places.
Some have given up because they have felt abandoned.
Others have persevered and they have grown.
The Lord desires all of us to deepen our faith, and so these times of dryness should be seen as opportunities to grow up into this amazing faith.

Being like Jesus isn’t easy.
It takes determination and desire on our part.
Are you prepared to allow God to deepen your faith?
Is it your desire to get off of spiritual baby formula and begin to feast on more sustainable spiritual nourishment?

Take that next step…don’t be afraid, He’s got you, and He isn’t far from you right now!

Something more to ponder today.

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Confessions of Solitude…

I am not too good with silence.
When I sit too long within its somber embrace, I get nervous…
I wait for the other shoe to drop (so to speak)…
I drum my fingers like a world famous rock star just to break its heavy blanket around me…
I am not too good with silence…
We aren’t friends.
But sometimes, we learn to cohabitant, her languishing about, while I attempt to ignore her call.

I find it interesting, given my avoidance of such an activity, that it is in fact a spiritual discipline.   This comes continually as a surprise to me and my extroverted nature.  I desire to be around people, around the noise of life, and around the fellowship of constant chatter…but silence?  That’s a discipline you say?  Hmm…

Thomas Merton once wrote:  “Not all men are called to be hermits, but all men need enough silence and solitude in their lives to enable the deep inner voice of their own true self to be heard at least occasionally. When that inner voice is not heard, when man cannot attain to the spiritual peace that comes from being perfectly at one with his true self, his life is always miserable and exhausting. For he cannot go on happily for long unless he is in contact with the springs of spiritual life which are hidden in the depths of his own soul. If man is constantly exiled from his own home, locked out of his own spiritual solitude, he ceases to be a true person. He no longer lives as a man.”

Far be it for me to tell you how to acquire this spiritual discipline that I myself still struggle with maintaining , but here’s what I have learned along the way thus far:

Silence (or some semblance of silence) can be achieved by being still. 

What do I mean by that? Life is so busy, and we move at such a fast pace in our world.  We often times to not have the time or the patience to remain still.  We live in a world full of constant distractions, instant messages, cell phones, streaming services and the addition of modern technology.  There is certainly nothing wrong with these tools, but too much of a good thing can be detrimental to us…to the point of distraction…to the point of the absence of stillness in our lives.

When we have distraction, the presence of stillness cannot descend upon us…that doesn’t mean that the Holy Spirit cannot still speak to us.  He can do anything within this world since He has authority over all, but can we hear His voice within the distractions?

Silence brings freedom from the powers of life and replaces it with compassion…

Richard Foster says;   “Silence frees us from the need to control others. One reason we can hardly bear to remain silent is that it makes us feel so helpless. We are accustomed to relying upon words to manage and control others. A frantic stream of words flows from us in an attempt to straighten others out. We want so desperately for them to agree with us, to see things our way. We evaluate people, judge people, condemn people. We devour people with our words. Silence is one of the deepest Disciplines of the Spirit simply because it puts the stopper on that.   When we become quiet enough to let go of people, we learn compassion for them.” (Richard Foster, Freedom of Simplicity: Finding Harmony in a Complex World)

Without aligning ourselves with the presence of God (which can be accomplished through silence and solitude), the needs of others through the lens Christ cannot be seen (or at the very least, this vision is greatly diminished).

Commissioner Harry Read –

STILLNESS AND STRENGTH

Be still, my soul, be still,
If you the Father seek
Be still, be reverently still,
If you would hear him speak.

Be still, my soul, be still,
God is not far away,
Be still, with humbleness be still,
Be willing to obey.

Be still, my soul, be still,
Of God be now aware,
Be still, with openness be still,
Your heart for him prepare.

Be still, my soul, be still,
Receive God’s energy,
Receive his grace, his love, his will,
Receive your destiny.

Psalm 46: 10
“Be still and know that I am God.”

With every blessing,
(Harry Read, 23.09.18)

What if it is the stillness of God that I am afraid of?
What if in that stillness I am found wanting, and like the prophet Isaiah, I realize that I am severely undone?
Perhaps it is in this unspoken fear that I must embrace His still small voice, which beckons me to put down my distractions, my hindrances and kneel at His feet.

Am I able to be still?
Am I capable of such a step?
Are you?

Something more to ponder today.
(I will write more on this topic again soon)

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