Valleys of My Own Making

As I mentioned in my last post, I am striving to take joy in life—to choose a path of joy where other mental paths would present themselves. I have been reflecting on my feelings. Why would I not want to choose a path of pure joy in life? Is life not better with joy at the forefront of my thinking? Part of me believes that considering the worst-case scenario in my days will allow me to be better in control of my days. If I can manage the potential worst, then I can maintain and preserve myself. However, does Jesus not manage the worst for me?

I have been reading an extended meditation on Psalm 23 by David Gibson, and I have read through the point in the book that considers the Lord being with us in the valley of the shadow of death. A main point is that God himself is with us. The valley, whatever it is, may be truly dreadful. But the Lord causes us not to fear. The first part of Psalm 23:4 reads: “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me.” Gibson writes, “It is a wonder that we have a shepherd; it is a great wonder that the shepherd is the LORD” (p. 86).

“Evil” in this verse can refer to moral evil or that which is just not right (p. 84). Let me be clear; I am not walking through the valley of the shadow of death. God has blessed my life. I am a recipient of many good gifts in my current days. But, that doesn’t always keep me from looking at the negative, and anticipating it. I have a penchant for looking at what I haven’t achieved in life, or for forecasting a bleak future of what my emotions will be if I continue in this state absent of any particular goals—which is both unusual and difficult for me.

No, I do not have a valley right now, but I fear one looming. I fear what could be. I seek to manage what could be. But Jesus—he keeps drawing me back into the light. I was indeed delighted to awaken this morning to a new day—delighted that I had Bible study in the morning, that podcast to finish, and a book to cheer my soul. I was delighted at the prospect of typing these words. This is all Jesus’ doing; I am sure of it. Indeed, I have no valley at all—save the one my mind is tempted to form from my fears.

I am not deep in suffering; but I still need to trust that the Lord would be with me through the valley—should that come. But indeed, he keeps bringing me back to consideration of the light. If he would be with me in the valley, he is with me in these kindest moments of life too. Perhaps in the future I will discuss forming rhythms of life—this is something I am learning: how to form my days so that they have interest and variety. But for now, I will say that I am working at forming rhythms of joy—much to my pleasant surprise (as the worst-case-scenario thinker that I am).

In truth, I cannot control all the content of my days; I cannot manage all of my emotions myself. Will I venture into bouts of unproductivity that dampen my spirits? Will I need to wrangle periods of boredom—so that they can be filled with enjoyment or exertion? Will I need to remind myself that I do not need to pursue goals; I can rest and relax in life too? Yes to all of the above. Yes indeed. But in those potential valleys, the Lord is present with me. And he can manage me. It is a wonder to have a shepherd—and a great marvel that my shepherd is the Lord who manages me.

Psalm 23:3a states, “He restores my soul.” As I commune with Jesus, indeed throughout the day, I have been giving him my fears, my listlessness, my doubts, and my concerns about how to use my ongoing time. I am sorry to say it, because I know that I have it good, but these prayers positively flow at times. I don’t know, after all, why after all of the work that I have done on multiple fronts, I am here with nothing—such is how it feels to me when no work is set before me and there are not achievements outstanding to stretch toward. (Perhaps we are both seeing why he led me here—to teach me.) How does my perfect Savior manage me in this pitiful self-made spot?

My spirit is instructed to look around, for this is my adventure: freedom in terms of how to use much of my time, my heart, and my mind. What a treasure, when I take the Lord’s view! My confessional line from this point of life: The Lord is my shepherd, and he restores my soul against potential valleys of my own making; so, I will not fear because he is with me.

For Such a Life

Jesus has been teaching me about relaxing and enjoying. My Bible study has been about delighting in Jesus and finding my joy and treasure in him. And the sin that I have been convicted of as of late is holding onto the negative—instead of striving for the joy. I imagine these lessons will be coming toward me in various ways over the next several weeks (months? years?). I am reminded that we do not grow instantly. I want results. But, it’s okay that it will take me some time to reorient my worst-case-scenario thinking.

Jesus wants it to be abundantly clear to my spirit that I have plenty that is full of joy in my life. One area that comes to mind especially is ample time to do as I please. This is a luxury. And I know that not all have it. That makes me want to enjoy it all the more. That podcast episode that I want to hear? I can make time for it. That book that I have started? I am going to be able to finish it, Lord willing. The reflection that I want to do over this blog and its direction? I will be able to sit and pray/ contemplate.

Ample time for leisure and desired activities is not a luxury I have always had, and not one that all share. It is born partly from having one child to raise who is in school all day, partly from having left the workforce when we moved from Texas to Illinois a few years ago, and partly from the fact that I have graduated now from my master’s program in theological studies that took me many years to complete. I am not used to not having pressing needs or deadlines—but here I am. Most of all, this time comes from the sovereign hand of God in my life—the God who puts the journal in front of me and nudges my spirit to write my thoughts before him, the God who fills my mind with curiosities about what I will read or discover next, and the God who is with me even as I write these words.

My temptation is to feel like I am not productive if I am not working toward a goal. I have been achievement-oriented to a fault. Not having goals, I have been bracing for falling off some arbitrary mental ledge. But instead, Jesus is working this achievement orientation out of me with this great grace: with thoughts of relaxation and enjoyment. Have you noticed too how gracious Jesus works sins out of our lives—with kindness and mercies?

What if being productive is not the call of God on my life at this time? Author Chelsea Sobolik recently wrote about the difference between calling and assignment. My calling is love: toward God and others. But, in short, my assignment at this time is to this simple, quiet life. Sobolik referenced a verse that I often call to mind: “make it your ambition to lead a quiet life: You should mind your own business and work with your hands, just as we told you” (1 Thess. 4:11). This is my quiet little life. God has brought it to me. And, it ought to be my ambition to live it—not only that, but to live it with great joy.

When I delight in the life God has given me, I am honoring and blessing him. I am proclaiming my contentment. I am blessing the hand that set me here. And, I am honoring the wisdom that is giving me these lessons, and not others—these days, and not busy days. Let me make the most of this time, of these quiet days, of the work that I do with my hands here and now.

How could I not want to linger with God over the pages of Scripture and deepen my faith through reading the works of others? How could I not want to sit right here in this desk chair, looking out at my wooded, peaceful backyard that will soon be full of spring, and not want to glorify my Maker for such a life?

Paths of Freedom

Freedom. It’s a word that I am growing accustomed to considering. Freedom from what and to what? I adore the verse of Scripture that says that ways of the Lord are wide freedom: “and I shall walk in a wide place, for I have sought your precepts” (Psalm 119:45). We are saved from what we want to do—saved to do what we were meant to do. There is freedom for our days held up in this mighty verse.

What are the pressures of the world, but of accomplishment, achievement, status, and position? The Lord is setting me free from those. These idols that I place in my heart like they are displayed on the shelves of my person. But what if achievement is stripped away? What if abilities change, or giftings shift? What if we’re meant to start back at the beginning of the course and find a new way forward?

I think that God wants us to be free unto his ways—and invariably I find that his ways are all about the heart, the mind, and the will. Specifically, they are about the character that we produce. Who am I? And, how will I react when my desires for achievement are not God’s will for me? 

Do you know what I have found? Surely you will not be surprised by my word: freedom. My mind has been conditioned to see only certain paths available to me: work and schooling have been paths to success. But when I look outside of those bounds, new paths become available to my thinking. I have the freedom to enjoy. I don’t know how many times the Lord has said to my spirit in recent days: enjoy your life.

And so, I am reorienting my thinking according to what brings me joy and enjoyment. What brings satisfaction and rest? What brings health and healing? What brings hope and peace? I have slowed my days, reoriented my purposes, and shifted my thinking. For me, writing here brings me peace and joy. Reading and studying bring me enjoyment. Having a deep life of prayer—something I have sorely neglected in past years—brings me healing and satisfaction.

If I were to prioritize accomplishment, I would not invest my time in a little blog, set my heart to studying that is not aimed at any kind of career, or pursue a life of prayer. But God’s ways are different and higher. They are helping me relax and rest. I reach and stretch for what I can link myself to that will bring peace and accomplishment. But as I do, I am brought back here: the simple written word where honesty of spirit meets the page. And, I am brought back to the joy of studies. And, I am pulled into a life of contemplation and prayer.

Freedom has come with the slowness of my days. Freedom has come when I pursue what I love to do, despite the outcome. Freedom has come as I set my spirit toward the presence of God to flow with him, as he moves, and become closer in my heart to his ways.

I am not where I once thought or imagined I would be. I have no position, rank, or career—I don’t possess achievements of note. There is no reason to particularly regard me. But, I am encouraged by the words of Jesus, the beautiful words of Jesus:

At that time Jesus declared, “I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that you have hidden these things from the wise and understanding and revealed them to little children; yes, Father, for such was your gracious will. (Matthew 11:25-26)

Jesus paused and took these holy, designated moments of prayer to the Father—ensuring they were recorded in Scripture—to offer thanks that those who are like children have been taught of God. Children were of no earthly regard, not yet being able to work in the fields or help with the dynamics of home life; they did not have rights. But to such as these—not to the highly regarded, accomplished and well-stationed—God first revealed his ways.

And to this little child, to me, coming to him for milk, Jesus is revealing the ways of his freedom. He doesn’t see as the world sees. It doesn’t matter to him if the world regards me, or if I have accomplished laudable acts or career advances. I am convinced that Jesus has deliberately set these aside for me in favor of a simple life—a simple life of freedom.

Were God to bring achievements into my life, may I never be like the wise and understanding, but remain a little child. And, may I never lose the simplicity of life that I have gained here with the freedom to breathe in each moment and exhale the days.

I am learning not to grip particular paths of life anymore—the ones that I once imagined. I have loosened myself from them—for what I gripped had gained its own hold on me. But God has wrested me from the hold of these and set me into a new reality. I am still growing accustomed to it, but I am telling Jesus in prayer that I will learn the ways, the paths, the patterns, and the sense of this new life as he leads me on.

Receiving Encouragement from Jesus

When I go to Jesus in prayer, I want to tell you what I received from him—what encouragement of spirit he gives to me. And then, I want to tell you all of the ways I experience difficulty in receiving this encouragement of spirit—all of the ways I fail to receive what he wants to offer.

What Jesus offers me is blessing and encouragement to my spirit, especially in the face of disappointments. He narrates his love for me. First, he tells me that I am loved. I am held in his heart. He has engraved me on his hands. I am known by him and cherished. Second, he tells me that I am wanted. I am not cast aside; I am wanted and desired by him. He tells me that I am cared for and that I stand as a full person before him. Third, he tells me that I am his own—I belong to him; even when I don’t fit other places, I fit with him. What more could the heart want that to be enveloped by these truths?

But, sadly, my spirit does not always receive what Jesus offers. I tell myself a counter-narrative. And it runs opposite of what Jesus tells me. I don’t always receive from Jesus what he wants to give to me. And, though I know he never tires of offering me his encouragement and aid, I often wish that I could better assimilate his news for my soul.

Instead of believing him about who I am, I resort to thinking myself an unworthy sinner. And, apart from God, that is what I am. I lived a life unworthy of God—full of filthy rags. I lived a life that was contrary to who he has now redeemed me to be. And, I am so used to that life, so used to those thoughts of myself, that I struggle to live in the new reality of my being the daughter of the Most High God. The truth is, God wants me to be changed and made new. He wants me to full embrace the beautiful transformation that he bought me with his blood. He wants me to enjoy the gift of the rebirth that I have been given. Do I think it holier to live in a state of despair over past (and present) sin? Do I think it wiser to consider myself only unworthy and sinner?

I do.

But Jesus wants me to know that he doesn’t keep telling me these blessed truths over and over and over and over for me to dismiss them and think that I have holier and wiser thoughts than the ones that he is delivered so sweetly to my soul.

He speaks the truth over me, and that is fact. He speaks the truth of who I am now. I can now live a much worthier life—a life unto him—because I have been saved into the newness of grace. To know grace is to live. To know grace is to finally be able to breathe in this life and have assurance of goodness for the life to come. God wants me to fully receive his grace, as much as I possibly can.

And, when I do, my spirit lifts. My disposition changes from a sense of diminishment of self to a place of glory in utter thankfulness. I admit, I know there must be more to the “other side”—that is, to living in God’s grace and his love and his wanting of me. There must be even more, but right now, what pours from me is thanksgiving—and a sense of wonder. “Really? Really, Jesus?” I ask him over and over. “You mean I don’t have to account for what I did anymore? You mean I don’t have to dwell in a place past of darkness any longer?” Wow. What else can I say? But wow. God’s grace is truly that amazing reality we sing about.

And so, when it comes to receiving God’s encouragements for my spirit, when the darkness of the past tries to pull me in once again, I preach to myself: receive. Let it be so. If God has said it, then it must be. If God has given it, then it must be true. If God has forgiven it, then it must be gone. Okay, my soul?

Every day, multiple times per day: “You are loved. You are wanted. You are my own.” Please keep telling me, Jesus. Please keep telling me, if it pleases you to do so, because I want to keep receiving it—drip by drip, piece by piece, and step by step. Apparently, this part of the gospel, the very good news of Jesus, is not instantaneous for my spirit. Apparently, this is a lesson learned over time. But, he keeps telling me, so he must be willing to walk this path with me. God is good.