February, 2009
I’ve been doing a lot of reading now that I’m back in school. No more shall my intellectual subsistence be three headlines and a magazine “novelette”. Seminary has already forced Mike into full-time reading glasses. (At least, that is what he’s blaming them on!) What has been interesting is which books and classes really appeal to me.
This past year it became clear to me that God wanted me to learn how to sit at His feet, to grow in being rather than doing, relationship rather than tasks. I came into this major where the emphasis is just that. But we still have a host of core courses. And I love them! I love studying; I love learning; I love analyzing and approaching Scripture with my mind. And I’m learning in the other area as well – approaching Scripture with my heart. But I have to work a lot harder to get there in those. In truth there are times when I think, “What in the world am I doing?”
I look around at the people in my major and I see all of these sweet, caring individuals. They all speak softly. They all speak encouraging words with smiles that never belie what they are truly thinking. (Not that they necessarily are thinking differently from what their face is telling, but I know what I would be thinking….) I see quiet calm individuals who have been relational all of their lives. I see people for whom being a harsh task master means they forgot to say “Please”.
At a recent class, one gal was leading the devotional. She had us close our eyes and picture Jesus walking into the room, beckoning to us to go outside with Him, and walking arm in arm with Him around campus. Then she asked us to listen and hear what He was telling us. This kind of exercise is still a little tough for me – a bit too “squishy”. I tend to prefer something a little more concrete. But I tried. And as I did, I heard a voice (not literally – for those of you other concrete types out there). It started telling me how I wasn’t fitting in and how I needed to change to a kinder, softer Amy. My feeling as I ended the exercise was one of feeling unloved, of feeling as though He didn’t like me and that I wasn’t good enough. And frankly, I was upset.
I understand if we are living in sin or something that we need to change. But if this is how we are made, if God is the one who wired us this way, why do I need to change? Is it that God doesn’t like me? Does a need for change always mean that? An old saying comes to mind: “God loves you just the way you are – and too much to leave you that way”. Is that just Christianese for “God loves you just the way you are – well, maybe not”? Do I need to undergo a personality overhaul to be a spiritual director? (Or whatever job this leads to?) And why is God calling me to learn in an arena that is so foreign to me? Was it God calling? Couldn’t I pursue a nice concrete Biblical Studies major and just take a few of these other classes as electives? Or would that allow me to distance myself too much from what God wants me to learn? And, God, do I really have to change? Do You not like me the way I am? I’ve been beat up my whole life for being too loud, too boisterous, too generous, too strong. Just too much. Do You think I’m too much too, God?
I was finally starting to feel comfortable again with this path when I went to a meeting where a group was looking to hire a director of spiritual formation. Unfortunately, they don’t feel a woman would fit the bill. Though the women of the group would enjoy it, the leader didn’t think the men in the group would be comfortable following a woman. I don’t quite get that. The group is looking for a godly person. Why does gender matter? I’m not out to change anyone’s theology and I understand the basis for many not wanting a female leader in the church. (I was raised under that teaching.) But this was not a church. Imagine if the leadership of that group modeled to the younger members that one can learn from anyone, that one should always be willing to look up to and pattern their lives after someone of a godly character, regardless of gender.
I began to question myself. Is this what I’m going to be up against if I pursue this field? Frankly, if it is, I don’t want it. I’m too tired and too old to fight this battle. And frankly, I don’t care that much. I have enough things in my life to keep me busy and happy. Besides, even if it is right, we are never called to push for our rights, but to be willing to surrender them for the sake of others. Yet I wonder. Am I wasting my time studying to be a spiritual director if the groups I hang with won’t let me be one? There are plenty of other things I could see myself doing. And if that route is going to be a daily battle of defending myself, forget it. I’d rather pursue something innocuous like being a teacher or professor. It seems most are OK with a woman teaching the Bible if it is teaching other women or if it is as an intellectual pursuit in an institution of higher learning. It’s when you go from the arena of intellectual leadership positions to that of relational/spiritual leadership that the gender questions are raised. Yet that is the direction I’m being drawn. Go figure. God – are You sure You are in this?
Like a rock,
The Submissive Despot
Amy Louise
Amy Shane
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
January, 2009
January, 2009
I remember when I first heard about the discipline of fasting. I was in college and read Richard Foster’s Celebration of Discipline. I was intrigued because he was advocating stuff that belonged to “the other team”, things I had never learned about growing up. That book was the catalyst to help me pray with more than a laundry list of requests. It was then that I also began to journal. And I began to incorporate fasting with my prayer time when I felt the need.
At first, my fasting was mostly for a specific request – something I wanted or needed intensely. (Usually I needed direction in something I was considering. And dates. Getting a date was almost always on my prayer list in those desperate years.) I wasn’t perfect in my motivations, but I was learning. I also fasted when I just wanted to feel closer to God. I would be feeling distant, and after searching my heart for known sins and coming up empty, I still would feel a lack in my relationship with God. So I would fast and pray to ask God to renew my feelings of desire and love for Him.
Why fast? Often I found fasting seemed to increase my spiritual sensitivity. God would remind me of sins that needed dealing with. I would have my clarity in my prayers. And I seemed to just be more “in tune” when reading the Bible. Most of the time I find I need to have more time for reflection during seasons of fasting (whether it be for one meal, one week, or 40 days). I need to clear some space and have more time to journal. My journal time is consistently where I learn the most as I process what I hear the Spirit saying through the Word or through others. I’ve known others who process best when running or when hiking out in the woods. I love talking to God when I run, but if I want to remember what He impresses on my heart during that run, I’ve got to write it down.
This fall I had a strange thing happen. There is a couple here undergoing huge trials. I barely know them, but got wind of it and felt compelled to pray for them, so I emailed the guy to tell him I’d be praying for them. What was weird is that, instead of praying a few times, God would not let this one go. I was waking up multiple times at night with them on my mind. (To put that in perspective, know that for the last ten years Mike has done most all night duty with our kiddos. I sleep through cries, vomitings, fevers, whatever.) They were on my mind when I’d go for a walk, at meal times, every time I turned around it seemed I was thinking of them. So I prayed. And prayed some more. And more.
And then the effects of the bad economy started to affect many of the ministries we love and support. People – friends – were being let go. Budgets were being cut. Normally tightening the belt can be a healthy thing, but many of these groups were already running lean and mean. The next thing to be cut was ministry itself. These are tough times for everyone, but for groups such as these whose livelihoods often depend on others’ surplus or, at least, on others feeling generous, it is especially difficult. So, added to the couple on my prayer list, were these ministries, often weighing my heart in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time.
The weight got so pressing I finally, around Christmas, decided to start the New Year with 40 days of prayer and fasting for this couple and these groups. I thought maybe I’d write this newsletter near the end of those forty days and be able to tell how well it went. Instead, it was probably the most difficult time of fasting I have ever done. Yes, the couple’s health issues improved some, but not without much pain. And the ministries are still barely surviving.
For myself, I had trouble carving out time to journal. In fact, instead of journaling more, I probably did less than I had in a year! I had trouble concentrating in prayer. My sister came into town right before I finished the forty days and she asked me what had changed during the fast. I had to tell her pretty much nothing had changed. Sure, I prayed more than usual, but I kept feeling like it wasn’t “connecting”. One ministry is asking for prayer (with or without fasting) every Tuesday for the year (which I had wanted them to do) and the day after my fast ended I even missed the Tuesday prayer time. It was frustrating. It was bizarre. I wanted to write my newsletter, but wasn’t sure how to even write about it. In Scripture, fasting and prayer go hand-in-hand. Or you can pray without fasting. But it doesn’t direct us to fast without prayer.
So I write this time as an appeal on behalf of those who are serving God by serving others. Please join me in prayer for them. Have your computer remind you every Tuesday this year. Pray that God’s word will continue to go out. Pray that they are able to continue helping others in the name of Christ. For some of these ministries, even their survival is in question. Pray for those that they are trying to reach, that their hearts will be turned to God. Just pray. Give. Serve. Volunteer. And then pray some more.
And be thankful that, no matter how this year goes, we know Who wins in the end.
Like a rock,
The Submissive Despot
Amy Louise
Amy Shane
I remember when I first heard about the discipline of fasting. I was in college and read Richard Foster’s Celebration of Discipline. I was intrigued because he was advocating stuff that belonged to “the other team”, things I had never learned about growing up. That book was the catalyst to help me pray with more than a laundry list of requests. It was then that I also began to journal. And I began to incorporate fasting with my prayer time when I felt the need.
At first, my fasting was mostly for a specific request – something I wanted or needed intensely. (Usually I needed direction in something I was considering. And dates. Getting a date was almost always on my prayer list in those desperate years.) I wasn’t perfect in my motivations, but I was learning. I also fasted when I just wanted to feel closer to God. I would be feeling distant, and after searching my heart for known sins and coming up empty, I still would feel a lack in my relationship with God. So I would fast and pray to ask God to renew my feelings of desire and love for Him.
Why fast? Often I found fasting seemed to increase my spiritual sensitivity. God would remind me of sins that needed dealing with. I would have my clarity in my prayers. And I seemed to just be more “in tune” when reading the Bible. Most of the time I find I need to have more time for reflection during seasons of fasting (whether it be for one meal, one week, or 40 days). I need to clear some space and have more time to journal. My journal time is consistently where I learn the most as I process what I hear the Spirit saying through the Word or through others. I’ve known others who process best when running or when hiking out in the woods. I love talking to God when I run, but if I want to remember what He impresses on my heart during that run, I’ve got to write it down.
This fall I had a strange thing happen. There is a couple here undergoing huge trials. I barely know them, but got wind of it and felt compelled to pray for them, so I emailed the guy to tell him I’d be praying for them. What was weird is that, instead of praying a few times, God would not let this one go. I was waking up multiple times at night with them on my mind. (To put that in perspective, know that for the last ten years Mike has done most all night duty with our kiddos. I sleep through cries, vomitings, fevers, whatever.) They were on my mind when I’d go for a walk, at meal times, every time I turned around it seemed I was thinking of them. So I prayed. And prayed some more. And more.
And then the effects of the bad economy started to affect many of the ministries we love and support. People – friends – were being let go. Budgets were being cut. Normally tightening the belt can be a healthy thing, but many of these groups were already running lean and mean. The next thing to be cut was ministry itself. These are tough times for everyone, but for groups such as these whose livelihoods often depend on others’ surplus or, at least, on others feeling generous, it is especially difficult. So, added to the couple on my prayer list, were these ministries, often weighing my heart in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time.
The weight got so pressing I finally, around Christmas, decided to start the New Year with 40 days of prayer and fasting for this couple and these groups. I thought maybe I’d write this newsletter near the end of those forty days and be able to tell how well it went. Instead, it was probably the most difficult time of fasting I have ever done. Yes, the couple’s health issues improved some, but not without much pain. And the ministries are still barely surviving.
For myself, I had trouble carving out time to journal. In fact, instead of journaling more, I probably did less than I had in a year! I had trouble concentrating in prayer. My sister came into town right before I finished the forty days and she asked me what had changed during the fast. I had to tell her pretty much nothing had changed. Sure, I prayed more than usual, but I kept feeling like it wasn’t “connecting”. One ministry is asking for prayer (with or without fasting) every Tuesday for the year (which I had wanted them to do) and the day after my fast ended I even missed the Tuesday prayer time. It was frustrating. It was bizarre. I wanted to write my newsletter, but wasn’t sure how to even write about it. In Scripture, fasting and prayer go hand-in-hand. Or you can pray without fasting. But it doesn’t direct us to fast without prayer.
So I write this time as an appeal on behalf of those who are serving God by serving others. Please join me in prayer for them. Have your computer remind you every Tuesday this year. Pray that God’s word will continue to go out. Pray that they are able to continue helping others in the name of Christ. For some of these ministries, even their survival is in question. Pray for those that they are trying to reach, that their hearts will be turned to God. Just pray. Give. Serve. Volunteer. And then pray some more.
And be thankful that, no matter how this year goes, we know Who wins in the end.
Like a rock,
The Submissive Despot
Amy Louise
Amy Shane
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)