Small Enough

I heard the Nicole Nordeman’s song “Small Enough” about nine years ago when the worship director at church asked me to sing it for a Sunday Service. Having recently rebounded from the aftermath of my husband’s heart attack, I fell in love with the lyrics immediately: “Oh, great God, be small enough to hear me…”

A couple of year later, he asked me to sing it again, this time on Christmas Eve. By this time I was in the depth of a deep emotional struggle and learning to call on God in a whole new way. As I let the words flow from my heart, I felt like I finally grasped their meaning.

Then life unraveled and I really began to live the words. I needed our Great God like never before.

A few weeks ago I found the CD that includes “Small Enough.” I hadn’t listened to it since that Christmas Eve performance. As I let the song play, three years of “be small enough” memories played in my mind—crying out for comfort, intervention, provision, wisdom, direction, patience. And every time my Great God came close.

I felt a tug to share this song with you, knowing that, like me, you might need God to be big enough to do the impossible and small enough to come near while you wait. I consider the song a Thank You to my Heaven Father for His goodness and note of encouragement to those who might need a touch from Him.

Thank you, Great God, for being small enough to hear us!

The heroine in all of us

Today I'm giving a talk at a local library on the Hero's Journey, which is a writing theory about story structure. So I was going over what Chris Vogler has to say in his book, The Writer's Journey, starting with the first two phases of the journey, the Ordinary World and the Call to Adventure.

You know what I noticed? This stuff isn't just for heroes. 

All of us have an ordinary world. Work, school, chores, fun, friends. But do we all have a call to adventure? Define adventure, exactly. And how does the call come? Would a person know a call if she heard it? 

The deal with the ordinary world is that there, the hero has some kind of a lack within herself. And the adventure's purpose is to fill that lack, so that by the time she gets through all the stages of the journey, she's a different person than when she began and can handle what she's called on to do. But the call, you say. What's the call?

When I'm cooking up a new story, the call is that shivery feeling on the back of my neck that says, "Oooooh. This one. This is the one you need to write about." My brain may not know it yet, but my heart does. In Be Strong and Curvaceous, book 3 of the All About Us series, Carly's call is the call to friendship . . . to a person she doesn't even like and has nothing in common with! But God has plans for her, and Carly's response to that call creates the story--and her adventure.

I firmly believe that when God's still, small voice whispers to us, it's a call to adventure. We may not be outfitted to set out on the journey (in our opinion), but He'll take care of us every step of the way. 

Bring on that shivery feeling!

Love ya,

Shelley

http://www.shelleyadina.com

Fire, Fear, and Fullness

A couple weeks ago I was traveling through a beautiful canyon toward the northern California coast. The colored sky was filled with dramatic clouds only God could paint. Then the sky darkened over the mountains to the south and lightning shot toward the treetops. We didn’t realize these initial electrical cracks were the beginning of storms that would push California into a fire season that may become the state’s worst ever. It’s not over. Typical fire season for California doesn’t end until the rains of late fall.

Many Californians are in survival mode, fleeing their homes. Others are doing what they can to prevent a fire from taking everything they have—a fire not yet threatening, dreaded just the same.

Living in the country, surrounded by dry brush, I at times find myself in the latter group, consumed in fear of what to me sometimes feels inevitable but may not be.

Not a good way to live.

I have a dear, older friend who somehow works into every conversation the challenge to live fully. It’s what God designed us to do, she’d say.

I think she’s right. This week I’m challenged to look at ways I might be consumed by a fear or anything else that keeps my time or thoughts trapped in survival mode. I don’t want to just make it through a day or just survive my life. Instead, I want to be as available and open as possible to God’s work of fullness in each moment, no matter what the circumstances.

Psalm 16:11 talks about eternity that will one day bring complete fullness, but I believe the verse also hints of what I can experience now:

You have made known to me the path of life, you will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand. (NIV)

Twenty-six words calling me to passionate fullness. Far beyond simply surviving. Definitely better than living in fear.

How about you? Have you ever found that you’re just getting through? Or that a task, fear, or difficulty has become so consuming that you’re in survival mode? What has helped you? What verses have you found stirring you to live more fully and passionately?

Please consider sharing. Someone might find encouragement in your experience.

Jan

http://www.choose2livefree.com/
http://www.jankern.com/

Stillness

I recently joined a girls group where we challenge each other to focus on a particular Bible verse or an idea like “patience” for a week. During that time, we each study on our own, read the Bible, read other sources, pray, and just watch how God applies the concept to our daily lives. We journal the insights we receive, then we get together and share what we’ve experienced and learned. This last week’s topic verse has been, “Be still and know that I am God,” from Psalm 46:10.

“Being still” is not something I do very well, so this was a great topic for me. My journal pages have filled with verses, quotes, thoughts, questions, prayers, and poems as I’ve begun to wrestle through what it means in my life right now to be still and know that God is God.

I’ll share one of my thoughts from my journal with you. This actually was prompted by an old journal entry that I wrote when I was researching fragrance for a devotional:

In Elizabethan times, the woman of the house might have a “still room.” It was a place where she prepared items for the cleanliness and health of the body and the home. Flowers and herbs would be hung from the rafters. A table top would include a mortar and pestle for preparing fragrant mixes.

I like the idea of a still room, but one of a different kind. What I think of is a place where I can find quiet and stillness, where I can get away from the fast pace and demands of the day and be still before God. I need that in my life—a time or place where I can find Him and allow Him to renew me, change me, teach me.

In my journal I also wrote about other analogies of the Elizabethan still room. You might see those in the above description too . . . but back to stillness.

I have a “still room” now—a place where I can go deeper with the One who calls me to stillness; where I can listen and wait and see if he has something to say to me; or where I can just be in his presence enjoying who he is and who he has created me to be. Yep, God and I have had some pretty amazing times together in my still room.

I’m wondering what your experiences and challenges with stillness have been. In this fast-paced world, do you sense a need to slow down and be quiet before God? What has worked for you in trying to intentionally make that a part of your week? What would your still room look like? Please share!

Jan
www.choose2livefree.com/
www.jankern.com/

Immanuel 2008

I have known some who barely notice the turning of one year into the next. Just another twenty-four hours sliding quietly into another.

It doesn't feel that way to me.

This year those seconds ticking down and then the welcome of the new year were quiet for me, but very noticed. I hadn't yet let go of Christmas. I mentioned in my blog post a month ago that I love Christmas. I wasn't kidding.

So as the New Year came, I wasn't quite ready to let the season go. For the most part, I didn't mind packing up the ornaments, even as much as I enjoy how those seem to make my house feel more warm and upbeat during December. But those items do tend to be reminders for me of God's gift in Jesus—Immanuel, God with us—my favorite Christmas theme. I realized it was that "theme" I wasn't ready to let go of.

But I don't have to.

As I spent time praying on New Years Day, I realized, God-Immanuel is a thought I can, with intentionality, take with me throughout the year.

God is with me. Not just at Christmas, and not just as a babe in the manger.

I thought about the year ahead and wondered what it would bring. Most of all I wondered, on December 31st of 2008, when I look back, where will I have so clearly seen God with me, God with us.

Will I have noticed him? Invited him?

Will I have lived more fully, breathing in and out his love, drawing from the deep well of his wisdom?

Even in the dark or painful moments, where without him I am crushed, will I have seen him as God-Immanuel and known he was with me?

Will I have sought a new depth of relationship with Jesus, God-Immanuel? I hope so.

That is my prayer. And it's my prayer for you.

Jan

http://www.choose2livefree.com/