Supernatural...

I don't have a lot on my mind today, so I'll keep it short (I think).

My sister sent me a bunch of hilarious bibs she made for our little one. Here is one of my favorites:

Since it appears we'll soon be hosting Super Baby, I thought I'd share some recent thoughts on what is actually supernatural.

We're fascinated as humans by supernatural abilities. From The Incredibles all the way to The Avengers, we can't get enough of average people who suddenly can save the world with their flying, future-seeing, shape-changing, brick-breaking-strength skills.

The same seems to be true for Christians. We are drawn to those who seem super-holy, super-courageous, super-self-sacrificing, super-wise, etc... We wish (at least I do sometimes) that we could have the flashier gifts, more steady discipline, less cracks in our super-faith armor.

It's not a new obsession either... Paul addressed the early church this way:

"But it’s obvious by now, isn’t it, that Christ’s church is a complete Body and not a gigantic, unidimensional Part? It’s not all Apostle, not all Prophet, not all Miracle Worker, not all Healer, not all Prayer in Tongues, not all Interpreter of Tongues. And yet some of you keep competing for so-called “important” parts.

But now I want to lay out a far better way for you." -End of 1 Corinthians 12 (Message)

So it seems like we're not called to compete to have more of the supernatural gifts in the Body of Christ. So what then?

God has been gently whispering to me lately that "supernatural" means exactly that, "Above, Beyond the Natural."

What's natural?

For me, it seems to be fear. Fear has been my autopilot mode since I was small. And to be honest, isn't fear natural in a world with nuclear bombs, hurricanes, serial killers, job loss, and dividing cells that eat away life? Fear is a huge money maker, decision driver. It's what causes us to shop for insurance, vote in certain ways, avoid deep relationships, stop opening our homes to strangers.

I realized today that choosing to lay down fear is a supernatural act. Fall seems an apt name for this season. It seems like a huge leap for me into an abyss of uncertainty. But if I choose trust over fear, I am doing something more profound than leaping buildings in a single bound. I am testifying that there is a God. A God who enables me to go beyond what I'm naturally programmed to be.

I don't know what "natural" tendency you struggle with: selfishness, ambition, materialism, protecting a strong or religious appearance, striving, rebellion, resentment... I do know that whenever we choose to go against, above the ways humans have been since we got broken and busted, we are standing in defiance against evil, quietly defeating it with a greater power than any light-saber. 

We can't do it on our own, but that doesn't mean we are not powerful. No, we have this promise:

^" I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me." -Galatians 2:20

We've got a secret. We're not who we appear today. When we call on Jesus, he lives through us. And because of that, ordinary acts of love, courage, and forgiveness are supernatural. Just make sure your cape is on correctly :)

He Knows My Name...

You would think with a name like "non-stress test," there shouldn't be any anxiety produced. You would think! Our normal, scheduled appointment yesterday turned into a bit of adventure for us, another chance for us to learn who God is and who we are.

 I had woken up yesterday morning after bad dreams. The night before I had been stressed again about the world/politics, preparations for the baby, juggling responsibilities, etc... I felt like God wanted me to turn to Isaiah 40, a chapter that had been brought up a couple of times at my baby shower because of the amazing promise that God "gently leads those who are with young."

Yesterday morning, I felt the peace of other promises: God doesn't grow tired or weary, to him the rulers of this world are like wind-blown chaff, he sits enthroned over the circle of the earth. Yes.

 The rest of the day was normal, until our non-stress test. The baby's heart-rate was fine. What was concerning was that I was having contractions about two to three minutes apart. No prenatal class for us!

We were sent to the hospital by the midwife to get further tests/monitoring. As we drove, I tried to keep down the panic. At 33 weeks, your body shouldn't be doing this. Our baby is breech, so she's in no position (pun intended) to be born. We were not expecting this.

As we pulled into the hospital, my phone beeped. I had received a text from my friend Melody. It read, "I've been praying for you. Do you guys need anything?" I was blown away. God knew! He knew exactly what was going on and more than that, had prompted a friend by the Holy Spirit to be praying. We went in with a sense of peace, despite the uncertainties.

 After some tests and observations, the contractions stopped, and we got the go-ahead to go home. What a whirlwind!

 Late last night and this morning, I felt like returning to Isaiah 40 again. This time, a new section stood out to me:

"Why would you ever complain, O Jacob, or, whine, Israel, saying, “God has lost track of me. He doesn’t care what happens to me”? Don’t you know anything? Haven’t you been listening? God doesn’t come and go. God lasts. He’s Creator of all you can see or imagine. He doesn’t get tired out, doesn’t pause to catch his breath. And he knows everything, inside and out." (Isaiah 40-27-30, Message)

I was also struck by the position of the promise about God leading those with young. It is right before "who has measured the waters in the hollow of his hand" (verse 12).

We serve a powerful God. He is magnificent, mighty, all-knowing, never-ceasing. And yet, he leads us like a shepherd, knows when we're headed into the hospital, knows our names. He hasn't lost track of us. Not a one.

All day, I've been thinking of the song, "He knows my name." This afternoon, I thought, "He knows my baby's name, too...that means he must know everyone's name...yikes." We have the comfort of God knowing us intimately. This we like. We also have the knowledge that God cares just as intimately for those whom we find hard to love. This. is. hard.

The political candidate we don't like? He knows his name. 
The co-worker we struggle to respect? He knows her name. 
Those who have injured us, behind our backs or to our face. He knows their names. 

He hasn't lost track of them either. Not a one. 

One of the most powerful exercises I was ever asked to do was to read Psalm 139 aloud, changing every "me" to a name of a person or group I struggled to accept.

I don't know what you need today. Maybe you need to remember that God is real and really present. The text I received proves that. Maybe you need to look at someone else with eyes of an all-powerful God who still choses to love. Scripture is pretty clear on this, too. He knows us. He knows. 

Another song to listen to this week...may it speak to you the way it speaks to me. Until next time!


 

Faithfulness

“Maturity, one discovers, has everything to do with the acceptance of ‘not knowing.” 
― Mark Z. Danielewski, House of Leaves

I kind of hate these words. Really. I mean, they sound wise, wise enough for me to pick them out of a page full of quotations about uncertainty. He uses the word "one," so it rolls off the tongue. The book they come from even sounds poetic. However, I'm learning that maturity, acceptance, not knowing are some of the least poetic, most difficult things for someone who has lived her entire life desiring the illusion of control. 

Election years always leave me feeling uncertain. I avoid newspaper stands because the fragility of the world in black headlines shouts, "uncertain." This last leg of the pregnancy has been unexpectedly uncertain. 

We're still dealing with low amniotic fluid levels here. I've a few more restrictions, a few more ultrasounds, and a whole lot of water. I know God is completely able to heal me. He healed my autoimmune issues, he healed my blood pressure that had been high for several weeks in a row. My fluid levels might rise and our journey will continue "normally" (what in the world does that actually mean when you're pregnant?!) Or, they might not. What are we to do with these increasing layers of uncertainty? 

I love that we have a Bible with laments. We even have an entire book of them. Lamentations 3 is one of my favorite passages, especially when things seem tight-rope tipsy. I see in it some ways to move forward each day: 

"I remember my affliction and my wandering, 

the bitterness and the gall.

I well remember them,

and my soul is downcast within me.

Yet this I call to mind    

and therefore I have hope.

Because of the Lord’s great love 

we are not consumed,

for his compassions never fail.

They are new every morning;

great is your faithfulness. 

I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion;

therefore I will wait for him.” -Lamentations 3: 19-24, emphasis mine)

We are, I am, not called to forget about the uncertainty, to spring up to thanksgiving while ignoring the fact that things are not as we would wish them to be. We are able to remember, to give voice to our mourning, our wandering, our dissappointment and pain. BUT, we are not called to stay there. 

I can wallow in the discomfort of an uncertain future, or I can call to mind God's love, the fact that we are not consumed, his unfailing compassion, his great faithfulness. I can say to myself, "God is enough. I will wait for him." 

This week I've listened to this song over and over. I think Brian Doerksen puts it into more beautiful words that I could have. I hope, no matter what uncertainties you might be facing, that it brings you as much peace as it has me: 

Privilege...

I saw this quote yesterday, and it has stuck with me since:

It is a privilege denied to many. That is the part that has been spinning around on repeat in my mind.

How many times do I complain about what is a privilege, taking for granted that I deserve only hell but receive only grace?

Seeing things as privileges changes everything:

I'm stressed about how much there is to read and learn about being a new mom? The fact that I can read is a privilege denied to many. 

I'm feeling overwhelmed by the number of doctor's appointments that have been added to our schedule? Accessible medical care close to home is a privilege denied to many. 

The internet is slow and a browser keeps crashing? Having access to internet puts me among the richest people of the world; it is a privilege denied to many. 

I don't feel like tackling the dishes in the sink? Those dishes are evidence that I had a good meal last night and went to bed with my stomach full -- a privilege denied to many. 

I can't go on walks (my favorite thing) this week until my fluid levels prove they're safely high enough? I have a life spinning inside me. This (let me never forget), and my ability to be home instead of losing a day's wage, is a privilege denied to so, so many. 

Even our access to Jesus is a privilege that, before he came, was a privilege denied to all but Jews. If we gain nothing else or lose everything but, Jesus' presence is a privilege denied to many. 

We are a privileged people.

May "thank you" be on our lips every moment this week.

I think she's a pretty beautiful reason, don't you think?

Baby Weaver at 30 Weeks (we think she has Patrick's nose :) )