The heart

“Let us lift up our heart with our hands unto God in the heavens.”

As I was reading and reflecting on Lamentations 3 yesterday, I was struck by this thought: What does it mean to lift up my heart? It is interesting that the verse doesn’t say to lift up my brain; the brain after all, is the organ that controls all actions, contains all thoughts, and orchestrates behavior. But no, we’re told to give the heart. The organ that gives lifeblood to the body, the organ that controls emotion, attitude, and out of which come the issues of life. Lifting up my heart with my hands means a complete removal of all of my emotions, all my dreams, all my aspirations over to the One who can control them all so much better than I can. In a phrase, it is handing over my will to the One who created it. And it is a determined, premeditated action, one I must choose to make. It involves lifting up my hands.

In another sense, though, it is also taking a more heavenly approach to the world. David Livingstone insisted that his heart be buried in Africa, because that’s where God called it. By lifting my heart out of my physical body and handing it over to God, I’m relinquishing my desire to pursue earthly or worldly goals, and instead submitting to a heavenly mission and purpose. My heart is not my own. My will, my focus, my energy, my compassion, emotions, and strength all belong to a heavenly purpose now. No longer can I claim any of those functions for my own fleshly, selfish desires. All must be submitted to His control, all must be turned over to Him as a vessel to be used, broken, and restored by Him.

Finally, in lifting my heart out of my body and handing it over to God, I desire His complete control in my life. Without a heart, I am emotionless, dead. It means that my desires become God’s desires. It means I no longer am in control of my emotions. It means seeing people as God sees people, desiring for them what God desires for them. It means my love is given away to be used and spent as God sees fit; my heart belongs to Another. And I can’t take it back; I’ve relinquished control.

Some may see this action of lifting up the heart as foolish, naïve, even a waste. But I can think of no one else I’d rather have control my heart, my life, my being and existence. There is joy in serving Jesus, in knowing that my life has a purpose, because really it isn’t my life. It’s merely a vessel, an instrument that God chooses to use to bring Himself glory, the method of showing Himself and His love to others.

The life of faith

“Faith never knows where it is being led, but it loves and knows the One who is leading. It is a life of faith, not of intellect and reason, but a life of knowing Who makes us “go.” The root of faith is the knowledge of a Person, and one of the biggest snares is the idea that God is sure to lead us to success. The final stage in the life of faith is attainment of character. There are many passing transfigurations of character; when we pray we feel the blessing of God enwrapping us and for the time being we are changed, then we get back to the ordinary days and ways and the glory vanishes. The life of faith is not a life of mounting up with wings, but a life of walking and not fainting.“
- Oswald Chambers, My Utmost For His Highest

The Quest for the Ordinary

It was a quiet Wednesday morning when my friend and I left at 6:30 to go pick up a third friend from the airport. After picking her up, we’d have a couple of hours to kill before picking up two more people and taking them to the house where they’d stay for the week. Being the coffee lovers that we are, we decided it would be fun to find a coffee shop and try to finish waking ourselves up during that time. So as we neared the airport, I pulled out the trusty GPS and started searching for something close by. Of course there were the usual Starbucks entries … but we wanted something different, something interesting, something not quite so normal.

It was this desire for the extraordinary that led us into the downtown area, with the flow of a somewhat heavy stream of morning rush-hour traffic. We exited when the GPS told us to, and faithfully followed the directions through a maze of Firsts and Deens and all manner of other downtown-ish street names. We spotted our coffee shop … tucked back into a back street in a warehouse with some other not-so-pleasant looking shops. We didn’t even stop the car. At this point the ever faithful GPS was giving us a few helpful options: Make a legal u-turn at the first opportunity, or go six tenths of a mile to the nearest Starbucks. We opted for familiarity this time and headed for Starbucks. However, this too turned out to be less than desirable as we found ourselves on a main street in the downtown area, with nowhere to park, and now really no desire to. And it was at this point, that we decided to go back towards the airport, and hopefully find our coffee elsewhere.

We did. At McDonald’s. Where I’m pretty sure (at least in my iced coffee) that they forgot the coffee and just gave me cream and sugar over ice.

On our way back to the airport, we laughed and chalked it up to “It’s not about the place, but about the people.” The time we spent together during that little excursion was fun, we laughed, we got caught up on each other’s lives, and just had an enjoyable time. And eventually (after dropping our airport passengers off at their house for the week), we did get our coffee … from Starbucks.

As I reflected back on this little incident, a thought struck me: So often in our daily lives, we’re on a quest for the extraordinary, the exciting, the adventurous. And so often, that’s not what God calls us to. It is often the ordinary, the mundane, the tedious, or the familiar that we are called upon to partake of and from which to learn. It is the ordinary things that often teach us the extraordinary lessons. Yes, it’s great to experience the extraordinary, the exciting, the thrilling. But it’s also exciting to realize that God is using the ordinary to teach us, to lead us, to grow us, and to change us into the likeness of His Son. I think far too often in our search for the extraordinary, we reject the quest for the ordinary things in life. And what a shame, because it’s in the ordinary things that we are afforded some of the greatest lessons. If we can live in the ordinary and have joy, if we can find peace in being still instead of moving on, if we can serve others in an ordinary way, then I think we have learned what it means to be content … to love others unconditionally … to truly live.

And thus, my philosophizing over coffee comes to a close. I love it when God uses little things like that remind me of great truths. Even if it does mean “settling” for coffee from Starbucks.

Coming Soon: Biography of God

This past weekend I attended a Prayer Advance (because who wants to retreat, anyway?) where we, the students, were encouraged to start a biography of God. That is, whenever we come across a name for God in our Bible reading (with the exclusion of names like “Lord,” God,” etc, which are very common) we should write it down and any references that go with it. I really liked that idea, and have started a document on my computer with names of God as I find them. Already I’ve been blessed with what I’ve discovered, and will soon start posting some of my findings. Right now I’m planning on a once-a-week post with a name that has really encouraged me. Look for these in the near future.

Also, I’ve been thinking about a couple of different series that I’ll be starting soon; this summer has been rather slow in terms of blogging, but not in terms of activities which have prompted good food for thought. I’m planning on writing down some skeleton posts and ideas this week, and working on fleshing those out in the weeks and months to come. Hopefully that will pick up the pace in posting around here. : )

The simple life

“Life reduced to fellowship with Christ makes the complicated simple.”

-Mrs. Paula Lewis