I learn the practice of dwelling each day this year. My one word, chosen because it is the resounding song God sings when I am still enough to listen.
I learn it when I read the message about the ticket and the space made for me at IF Gathering in Austin. I learn it when I imagine gathering with so many women I love and respect. I learn it when I remember that I have air miles and a voucher and it would cost me next to nothing.
I learn it when God reminds me that everything costs a bit. Each moment stepping out of obedience costs me something.
I learn it when I remember that every door that opens is not meant to be walked through and I learn it when I remember that this is the year I promised to dwell.
I learn it when I reply that I am so very thankful to be thought of and I politely decline attending.
I learn it in the weeks in between when the list of friends attending grows and everyone asks if I’ll be there. I learn it when I say I am not traveling this year because I decided from the beginning that it was to be no to everything or I’d talk myself into it all. I can speak such convincing words on God’s behalf.
And I’ve already said no to so many things, good things. And it feels like a burden and obedience and sacrifice and I wonder where the blessing is in it all.
I learn it when I remember that I am not in this for the blessings. I am in it for His presence and I learn it when I push into that, trying to find Him again because I wander so easily.
I learn it when I decide to host locally and gather my friends. I learn it when all the ideas and thoughts are pushed aside and sickness invades my house, rounds of colds and asthma attacks and steroids and breathing treatments and I am so weak and tired. I learn it when the snow falls knee-deep and the roads close and people stay home and I am alone. I learn it when nothing ever turns out the way I imagine it and I find I’m ok anyhow.
I learn it when my body is curled in bed and the laptop rests on my lap and I open the livestream to tune in.
I learn it when my daughter tucks her body up next to mine, hair still damp from her shower and she listens as Christine Caine talks about being delivered but not free. She listens as the worship starts and as woman after woman speaks.
And I tell her this is the sound of God’s women cheering the loudest for their God and for each other. I tell her this is the sound of women unleashed.
I tell her we are made for God and each other. We are made to fit together in a body. And this my dear girl, this is a beautiful body, but it’s not complete. She sees it too. And Kaia rests her head against my chest and my heartbeat thrums through and into her and I realize I’ve missed nothing at all.
I am always in the presence of God. He is here speaking to me. Speaking to us.
I learn it when God reminds me of the promises spoken to me in the weeks after Africa. When I came home and waited on Him. When I shut this blog down and went quiet and begged God to speak to me. When I anticipated advent like I never had before.
I needed a savior.
And when He did speak, He told me to dwell. He told me to trust what He’s already done. I am free. He told me to practice faithfulness and it looks a whole lot like ordinary.
It looks like braiding my little girl’s hair and watching movies with my husband while we hold hands. It looks like cooking dinner every night and going out to coffee with friends. It looks like mentoring the women He’s put in my life and praying for my friend serving in Africa every day. It looks like showing up every day and being present and asking, “What now, Lord? “.
It looks like nothing I could post on Instagram or tweet about. There is no glamorous way to document the ordinary faithfulness, only a thousand things done in obedience strung together to make a life worth living.
It looks like ordinary. It looks like trusting Him. It looks like doing good. It looks like walking with God right here in my ordinary.
What’s more ordinary than reading God’s word? It’s not packaged or glamorous or inventive and yet it is the one thing that brings us to God in worship. It’s the thing He uses to speak to us, to transform and redeem and clarify. It is the thing by which we are healed and fed and found whole. If had this crazy idea that we could dig in together. Wanna join in? Go to IF Equip and learn how you can be a part of this crazy ordinary walking with God. We just might change the world.
Ah, I love this. You are inspiring.
Thank you Alysa, I’ve loved hearing how God met you at IF as well. He really is with us always.
I love this. Obedience is beautiful.
What God helped me land on when the devil kept poking arrows at my heart, when I kept feeling like I wasn’t enough or others were more … (and I have to go back to this more often than I want) Joseph. When he stands before Jesus on THAT DAY wont hear, “High-five dude for being #2 to Pharaoh!” It will be, “Well done in keeping your focus on me and being faithful wherever I sent you-even in that prison where you might otherwise have been bitter and depressed. There you served me. Well done good and faithful servant.”
And I remember this: IF you want to be great in God’s kingdom, be a servant.
A cup. Just a cup of cold water. A smile. Scrubbing a toilet. …sweetly braiding hair… holding a baby for a new mama. Washing dishes. Gathering gifts for a single mom. Sending a card. Calling a lonely person.
& pray
I think of Joseph so often. Often when I would see my husband’s faithfulness. He’s always been more stable no matter what circumstances he’s in but I’m fickle. Highs and lows and obedience depending on how I feel have been so much a part of my life. I want the adventure and the big crazy dreams and I’m constantly reminded that small and faithful is what costs me most. Just saying yes to where God leads me day after day. I’m not great at it. But this year I’m making it the only thing. Just listening and saying yes to Him.
I’m with you {How we are called to the small, and God raises us up in His big.} Susie Larson interviewed Jennie Allen this week and I felt the conversation spoke very beautifully to this conundrum we live in. And the solid ground is ‘just keep moving with Jesus’ and he does the rest. <3
Here is the link if you are interested. http://myfaithradio.com/2014/the-restless-life/
My man used to call me his "feely-feely" girl. I've matured I guess, he hasn't called me that in awhile. 🙂
Thanks for the link. I’m still pretty feely feely but at least now I’m learning I don’t have to act on all of them. 😉
Just yes! The patience and self-restraint to stay is so hard. Maybe we should start out by being trained like a puppy on this command. Just keep dwelling and when led, keep sharing these pearls, friend!
I could use some training. I am housebroken, so there’s that. 😉
Hey Girl… (in the most non-Ryan Gosling way…) March. This is all I have to say. March is getting closer! I am so proud of you for dwelling – when it would be oh so easy to convince yourself and everyone else that it is His will for you to go! And oh what fruit comes from obedience… from dwelling! How I adore that your little one was curled up with you… gathering and gleaming… growing together! Be still my heart – how I love this!
MARCH!!!!
Oh my bloggy friend that I have met once, I hear your heart. Dwell is a word for me this year as well. Deep in the midst of transitions and uncertainties God speaks this word to me–Dwell. Dwell in this today, make the most of today by dwelling in the blessings and the uncertainties. Dwell with Me where ever you are. I hear this word in my spirit and my heart calms and I find joy by delighting in God every day, this day. This word is sustaining my outlook, when my emotions are tempted to spiral downward. So grateful for this dwelling and cultivating. I am blogging on Psalm 37 and the passage just keeps speaking to me. I am not trying to advertise or plug my blog, but simply to share my heart with yours as God is working this passage into the nitty-gritty of our lives.http://gingerharrington.com/how-to-make-the-most-of-each-day-this-year-part-1/
Well hello there, again. I love that you are learning it too this year. Thanks for sharing your journey with me.
“It looks like nothing I could post on Instagram or tweet about. There is no glamorous way to document the ordinary faithfulness, only a thousand things done in obedience strung together to make a life worth living.”
YES. Mine too. And it’s hard, because it’s so counter-cultural. It’s easier to choose to ‘risk’ and ‘dream’ and ‘dare’ and lots of other things which are all good in their place, but essentially supported by our culture. I’m not sure that our culture screams to us, ‘say no to great opportunities!’, ‘stop being busy and important and take time out to be inefficient and hang out with God’. (Can you hear me sounding defensive?? It’s so hard to stop, without it feeling like failure or deprivation.)
Thank you. You have encouraged me to walk more boldly in the quiet ways.