ran·dom [ran-duhm]
– adjective
proceeding, made, or occurring without definite aim, reason, or pattern

cog·i·ta·tion [koj-i-tey-shuhn]
– noun
concerted thought or reflection; meditation; contemplation

me [mee]
- pronoun
someone jotting down thoughts, reflections, meditations and contemplations with no definite aim, reason or pattern.

I hope you find it useful...

Sunday 22 April 2007

tour guides?

Last week, I had a conversation with my friend Andrew Turner, during which we were discussing spiritual direction. I was saying how I've been more and more taken by the importance of leaders (youth and young adult's leaders in particular) being spiritual leaders - people who assist those they are walking with to listen to the rhythm of God in their life.

Andrew made a profound comment which I intend to think more about. He talked about the difference between a tour guide, who goes with you on your journey, and points out important landmarks/icons that you might miss, as opposed to someone at an information desk, who gives you a brochure, and leaves you to find your own way.

I like the analogy of spiritual direction being along the lines of a tour guide - I am there
as someone who has walked the route a bit more than the person I'm "guiding", to make sure nothing important is missed, but not to be one of those irritating tour guides, who never lets you explore anything on your own, or who talks so much that you never get to really experience it for yourself. Clearly, I'm going to have to go on some guided trips to some exotic locations so I can learn more about being a tour guide...

Wednesday 18 April 2007

finding rest

I was reading through Hebrews with my friends Luke and Simon a couple of weeks ago, and was taken by 4:9-11a...

So there is a special rest still waiting for the people of God. For all who enter into God's rest will find rest from their labours, just as God rested after creating the world. Let us do our best to enter that place of rest.

Part of the reason it stood out to me was because of the tiredness I feel at the moment, but since then, I've read or heard people talking about Sabbath or rest 4 or 5 times (obviously something I need to think about, right...?) As I've reflected on it, I've realised that most of the time I think about Sabbath or rest in terms of what I should not do - I shouldn't work, I shouldn't think about ministry, I shouldn't do certain things, etc. I've been trying to work out what re-creates me (don't have any real answers yet), so that I can do whatever that is as part of my rest, but I've also stumbled across something I've never heard anyone talk about before.

Andy Stanley spoke at the Willow Creek Leadership Summit last year, and he talked about the trust involved in making his decision to work 45 hours a week, so that he could make family the priority it deserved (feel uncomfortable about that idea? Maybe you need to think about it a bit more!) In doing that, he's had to throw himself back on God and say "God, I've given all I can, you need to do the rest" - something I think a lot of us don't do often enough.

But here's the bit that stands out to me. Sabbath is actually about trust. Sabbath is less about what we do (or don't do) and more about getting perspective. When I choose to have a Sabbath rest, I stop doing long enough to realise God can accomplish anything he wants without me, and that's very freeing. That's why it's a spiritual discipline, because it's (as I am starting to think most spiritual disciplines are) more about recognising who God is and what God's doing than it is about me.

To take a Sabbath is to hear God say remember who's the one who's actually at work here - you're a participant, sure, but it's my work. It is to hear God say this is about far more than just what you can do. It's to hear God say I'm at work in the hearts and lives of the people I love, so rest in the assurance that it's not all on your shoulders. It's to hear God say "I will give you rest", because "my yoke fits perfectly and the burden I give you is light" (Matt 11:29-30)

Friday 6 April 2007

woody the philosopher

I was reading a "Toy Story" book to Josh today, and in it was this very profound quote (taken from the movie):

"Look, over in that house is a kid who thinks you are the greatest, and it's not because you're a space ranger, pal. It's because you're a toy. You are his toy!" - Woody to Buzz

It's such a challenge to not let our identities be shaped by what we do (or who we think we should be). I find it so hard to understand that I am worthwhile, and it is not because of any of the titles I have or any of the things that I do, but because I am God's. Not God's toy in a negative way, but loved, adored, included, as a child loves a particular toy. I guess it's appropriate that I read that today, on Good Friday, as a reminder for why Jesus went through what he went through - so that we could truly, finally, completely be God's.

Monday 2 April 2007

what josh is teaching me about God #4

Today, we took the kids to a playground. I never ceased to be amazed at the way Josh's confidence changes at playgrounds. At first, he'll be all over it, climbing, sliding, jumping. Eventually, though, he gets to a point where he climbs something a little higher than he feels comfortable, and he starts to freak out a bit.

All it takes, though, is for me to walk over, let him know I'm there, that I've got him, that I won't let him fall, and he can keep going.

I know I react a lot like that on the playground that is life. I get all cocky, thinking I can handle whatever comes my way, until things get a bit out of control, then I look for God's hands to hold me, to remind me that actually He's got it all under control, and that he won't let me fall. While that's comforting, it grieves me to a degree, too. I shouldn't just reach out for God when things are tough, but need to realise He's actually enveloping me all the time, and that I need to involve him consciously in the pleasure of every part of daily life, not just when things get out of control.