I am coming up on a year of using a Spiritual Director. Having spent time with this special woman in my life, I want to reflect on the blessings she and her ministry has been to me these last 12 months. I want to mark this period of time because marking time has become a spiritual practice for me.

​That is a blog post for another time, but for now - I want to share a little bit about why the practice of using a spiritual director as been a blessing to my own personal walk with Christ, and perhaps encourage you to consider this practice for yourself. 

As a life-long evangelical Christian, this practice of speaking to a spiritual director regularly is rather a new idea. While it has been a regular experience for some of my high-church brethren for centuries,  those who share my own spiritual heritage are just now embracing the value of such a relationship. The director/directee relationship is a unique one, with the express purpose of helping only one of the member of the party to seek and find God's presence in their own life. The spiritual director is a "holy listener", a sort of second set of ears and eyes to see the movement of God in the directee's life. 

It is different that most other counseling or even coaching relationships, in that a directee does not come to a director for counsel, or even advise, per se. Instead, a directee comes to the director for help to see the work of God in their life . The director acts as a mirror, helping reflect the light of God in the life of the person they are sitting with. While they may gently suggest or raise questions that will bring further clarity for what their seeking companion is trying to discern, their role is be a listener and a witness to the work that God does as the seeker searches for Him through their sharing. 

Typically, a director/directee relationship begins with an understanding of specific time-based and emotional boundaries, and with a specific goal in mind. It is not a friendship, exactly - though that does naturally evolve. As it is hard to develop a deep friendship with someone when only one shares, it has its limits in that capacity. That said, I dearly love my director. And, I know I am loved.  Even within the limits of our relationship, there has been sharing and gracious acceptance that has been blessed with a godly connection that is invaluable to me and my walk with the Lord. 

Our time together (for me, a hour, once a month) is something I prepare for. This fact alone has changed my own walk with God. Taking time on a monthly basis to evaluate my own journey, to look back on victories and struggles in my faith, to ponder deep thoughts and anxieties over the past weeks with intentionality and purpose, has been clarifying and empowering. Knowing that at some point in the next 30 days I will share of my struggles and blessings, I am more aware and hold more closely those things I have learned and will share. Intentionally pausing to consider what I have learned of God and his way in my life in the recent past, has inspired and encouraged me on my spiritual journey. Being called to give an accounting of sorts for how I have allowed God to move in heart and mind ensures forward motion and growth in new, and exciting ways. 

Often, I come to her with nothing I feel is inspiring or anything I feel is worth sharing. Even on those days, I leave feeling that my spirit is a buzz with God's energy. I also am often surprised with conviction, hearing my own words and seeing my own weaknesses in my narratives. More than once, I have been offered a gentle question that has given me pause in the moment, and resonated for weeks or months. 

While spiritual direction has been around for centuries, how it has played out over time has changed. At one point in church history the director played the role of being the "voice of God" to a searching one. Often a director would give advice, or assignments to help guide a directee - they might would give instructions, as if an assignment from God, to further their growth. In most cases, it no longer means that for modern practice of this discipline. Modern experience in spiritual direction is more gentle. It is more of a coming along side another brother or sister in the Lord, to help them see God in their own life. 

In my own growth, I have learned to embrace and appreciate with passion how God has called us to lean on and into each other as part of his provision. We are called to depend on each other, to teach, to learn from, and to encourage each other. Blessedly, there are many ways of doing that. One way, is through listening or helping a fellow sojourner by allowing them the sacred space to talk things through, with no intent to be instructed by anyone besides the Spirit himself. 

In our world where speaking is more highly valued than listening, the ministry of being available could have profound influence on a person's spiritual journey. It has mine. It is teaching me to listen better, to not be so quick to speak my mind or to share my own thoughts. I often bring to mind my director, and how her quiet stillness has spoken so much grace to me as I have verbalized my own new awarenesses. I ponder how I am forced to accept those new truths, because they are my words- and not hers. I know that God has used her confidence, godly silence and slowness to speak to force me to listen more carefully for myself. 

I am learning to be a better holy listener, because the ministry of listening has influenced me so profoundly. 

If you are interested in seeking Spiritual Direction, you can find some possible references to directors in your area here.

If you are interested in exploring spiritual direction as a ministry, there are some wonderful books on the topic including, Holy Listening: the art of Spiritual Direction, by Margaret Guether, which is my favorite. 

God has made such wonderful ways of finding him. Maybe you could be blessed through spiritual direction, as I have. 

​Blessings and graces,

I skipped church on Sunday. I did. And, I do not feel bad about it.

No worries. It won’t be a regular thing. I am learning more and more how I desperately need my church family, and how our coming together in communal worship is so central to the rule of life in God’s Kingdom.

All the same, I took an opportunity I have been looking for for several months now. With the invitation of my boys and husband to an early church service, followed by a lunch out and an NFL football game, I found myself with a whole eight hours of kid and husband-free time. I have been giddy for a week anticipating the hours of quiet and solitude.

I would have used these hours differently a year ago. My to-do list constantly threatened to invade my thoughts, and it would have then. But, the last few months have been incredibly powerful ones for me. I have been learning so much, of how to draw nearer to God through spiritual practices, like solitude and silence. Sunday, I submitted these hours to God for these sacred things.

As part of my time alone, I felt led to take a walk. It is early December, and should be cold and grey. Instead, the day had the most perfect weather ever for a contemplative prayer walk. With temps in the mid 60’s (I’m guessing) and virtually no clouds, the blue sky was a perfect backdrop for prayer and wrestling while being surrounded by nature.

As I have mentioned before (here), I have a lovely walking route that I take. I have seen it in spring, summer and fall and it gets more beautiful as the year goes on. One of my favorite parts is after a rigorous uphill climb, which is rewarded every time by a scene of open fields lined with trees, hills and bluffs as far as you can see. It is bordered by red or faded old barns, farmhouses, and even a century old school house. I always pause and breathe deep, not only because I feel like I am going to die after the climb, but because the beauty is one to take in fully.

Sunday, with my abundance of time, I decided to cut across those fields. With the current season the risks of treading on snakes and being covered in Tennessee ticks felt slimmer and I was anxious to experience this space differently. And, that I did.

As I walked through the fields, I saw my favorite view in a whole new way. I saw different perspectives of the old barns, and of the tree-lined lane I could see through the leafless trees far away on the other side of my route. I saw the fields differently when I stood in the midst of them. They felt bigger, and I felt totally engulfed in them.

One of my rewards for walking this loop is to collect plant-life along the way. In the spring it was greenery of every shape and size. In the summer there were different wildflowers blooming every time I went. The early fall was all about the different colors of changing leaves. Sunday, with the colorful flora long gone to make way for winter, I saw before me golden colored beauty. Despite the monotone palette, I was struck with the amazing nature of it. The amazing nature, of death. These plants were dead, and dying. The grasses and stems that were laden with colorful reminders of God’s artistry just a bit ago were transformed through its new season into a new thing. Still beautiful, I decided.

Dying, but beautiful.

So, I collected. I collected different grasses, different seed-heavy stalks, different dried up flowers, and wispy wheat-like things.

Maybe I am drawn to these because I am learning to appreciate the beauty of these seasons; the ones of innately awe-inspiring colors and the ones of dull, seeming lifelessness. I am learning to appreciate death, as it is a necessary part of the cycle of each living thing. The plant’s death is not a disappointment, or a failing. It is just the season it is in, established by nature, set into motion by the very life that defined it. It was coming, sooner or later. Its death is completing its cycle of the life it was created for. There is beauty in that.

I have died a few deaths on my journey to being transformed by Christ. A few on that walk, actually. Small deaths, where I realize my passive, unfair judgments of others, or when I have had to confess overt sinful choices. I have had a few bigger, more difficult ones the past few months, when I have had to face beliefs that were based on lies, or coming face to face with hidden sins. But, each death makes way for new life. Each death, like the cycle shared by the fields, brings something to a place where it completes its purpose and lauds the coming of something new in its season.

So, as I pick these dead things, I am remembering how beautiful my soul may seem to God, a full of things willing to submit to the seasons of death, for life’s sake.

Being transformed is hard work. Death is not always beautiful, as compared to full, vibrant, colorful life. But, it is so essential for making way for the season of growth.

I am noticing that my vase full of dead things is actually a treasure chest of seeds of dozens of different things that will find new colors in its season. Oh, that we will submit ourselves to the small deaths that give us new seeds for the springs of our souls.

It was a good walk. I did not miss worship, after all.

Spirit come, transform me like the grasses in the fields in their seasons.

UPDATE...my baby has ARRIVED. To add her and her sister to your bookshelf (you know you want to... check her out here. 

My baby is due here very soon! My book baby, that is. 
 
This one is near and dear to my heart. In its pages are so many lessons I am still learning about how to make this simple life a real thing. There are so many things I have learned thus far as my family and I took some tentative steps towards living the simplicity I think so many of us crave. 

​This book is more less a journal of my learning as took those steps. It is a real time, chronological documenting of the thoughts and feelings that went into the experience of moving from our "Big House" to our current lovingly named,  "Little House."  

I kept all the goodies - even the stuff I wish I could un-admit I thought or felt as I transitioned our life to another level of simple. My hope is that it will encourage and inspire some of you who are desperate for simplicity. I want you to trust that if I, my three boys, my home-loving husband and all our crazy can do it, so can you.

​I want you to believe that you have what you need to make the big decisions and say the big "no's" and the bigger "yeses". 

I want for it to be a practical guide, with lots of tips and already learned stuff you can take my word for as you make your own big changes. 

My prayer is that you will read it, and feel you have a friend and sister who wanted the same thing you crave. I want that to motivate you to giving up stuff you need to, embracing the right things, letting go of the hindering things and finding confidence in the focus we so much need. 

Right now, Lord willing, I will get to share all the things starting on or near November 13th. It is available for pre-order now, right here. All orders from this little corner of the web will come with an autograph and a prayer that you will find encouragement and inspiration in its pages. 

I am realizing more now than ever, so many of these heart-deep lessons are rooted in the promises I learned to embrace during the Everything You Need Bible study. If you are really ready to give over to a life that is fully supplied, you might want to grab that one too. It's even on sale! 

I can't wait to see what you add to and feel empowered to do with this book ...do, let me know! 

Being Fully-Supplied,

I have lived in our Little House for 3 years now, and I hardly have a day that I don't love and appreciate the space around us and am grateful for the beautiful of this Tennessee country world. The beauty of this place, in every season, has not be lost on me.

Yet, I see today after a walk in a new area of my space that there was beauty I had missed for not slowing down and seeing it from a different perspective. Just a bit from my house there is a sweet country lane I drive by nearly every day, and often think, I really need to go walk there some time. I took time to do that this morning, and wow.

The lane is a curvy 1.5 mile loop that varies in elevation, giving some tired muscles a chance to work a bit. It passes a century old cemetery, old farmhouses and runs beside a couple of creeks. Its edges are currently lined with masses of green foliage, beautiful wildflowers and blackberry bushes. My walk was cool, and just breathtaking.

The beauty drove me to confession.

I confessed that I hadn't taken the time to slow down and see this sweet place before, though its gifts have been just so near me. I haven't slowed down enough to appreciate the beauty of the place, or appreciated the wildness of it all. In my fast pace of driving through a few times, I have just seen a blur of green and pretty houses.

Slowing down let me see not a mass of green foliage, but hundreds of variations of greenery, and mixed in, tiny black and red treasures of maturing and ready-to-eat blackberries. In the slow, I found three different kinds of white flowers, which from the rushed view of the mini-van just looked like generic white blurs. I found that the black-eyed susans I have appreciated from the car actually have varieties, both unique en masse on the side of the road. Because I was moving slower, I got to taste the blackberries and pick a bunch of flowers and greenery to bring home. I was able to appreciate the sounds of the creek on either side of me as I walked. ​ I got to stop and take the smells of the green and the honeysuckle. It was so strong.
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I got to ponder the fresh grave sites at the cemetery, and pray for the families they represented. I thought about the empty house that I know just lost its owner after a tragic fall and sudden death, and I prayed for his family. I saw details of these old farmhouses I have lusted after, and saw lives lived there, passions for gardening and signs of life happening.

I stopped several times to ponder the scenes from the side of the road. I had passed all this before, but had not slowed to see it all.

It brought me to a new place of understanding in regards to the connection between slowness and appreciation of things.

How like our culture is that walk - the beauty just overflowing the edges, but so often missed for the pace at which people pass it by. So many things to appreciate, but they just become a blur with the speed with which we rush by them every day. The varieties of life, relationships, and opportunities become a blur, and the details are lost for lack of the time to take them in.

Simplicity for me is about slowing down enough to see the details - to appreciate the gems hidden in the brush, that we would not see if we passed quickly. It is walking, instead of speeding by in the mini-van. It is varying our pace, depending on the hills and valleys - allowing for our body to set the pace, and work how it needs to in order to manage things well. When my legs are doing the work, I take the time to slow down on the uphills, and so much more appreciate the downhills.

When we walk, instead of being driven, we can see the inclines coming and know to breath deeper and forge onward - and, we look back to see where we have come from. We can appreciate both where we have been, and where we are going so much better.

Slowing down our lives allows us to see the details of it. It helps us to take in all the things - the sights, smells, sounds and hidden gems. Our kids aren't like every other kid in a blur of the younger generation, they are unique and growing like weeds on the side of the road. The houses may look like structures in a landscape, but when we slow we see people and lives being lived and lost. We don't just see the highlights of color in our life, we get to ponder them, mull over them, appreciate their variety and pick them to wonder at them for a bit longer.

Let's slow down, friends - lest this beautiful life is missed, and just becomes a blur on the side of our crazy roads.
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I had the honor of speaking at the Women Walking with God conference in Wichita, Kansas in April. It was a very unique and blessed time of fellowship with more than a thousand other women of God, all who were learning of this promise together and reminding each other of its truth. 

I got to share the stage with some incredible women, all who had different perspectives on how this promise has been lived out in their lives and different challenges for those present on how to tap into God's refuge themselves. 

In studying for this opportunity, I had a chance to make this promise more real in my own life and when it was time to share I wanted to encourage my fellow sisters in Christ to simply trust that this promise is real. It can be experienced in a very real way, not in a purely spiritual sense, but in the same sense that God calls us to love him with our whole selves. 

Like the everything you need promise of 2 Peter 1:3, we can come to appreciate this promise is true in every part of us. We can learn to experience it in our spirit, our heart, our minds and our bodies. For some of us, we may need to think of things differently to make that happen. For some of us, we may have been taught or learned erroneously that God's promises are simply spirit promises. That God doesn't move beyond a bolstered spirit and calmed emotional state. 

I think a big part of why we sometimes fail to experience God's promise in real ways, is that that we fail to call every part of us into believing that promise is true. We don't ask our whole selves to get involved in mediating and submitting to these promises. We somehow think that just repeating the promise or simply believing it is true will make it happen. 

I believe we need to include our whole selves in the the practice of engaging in these promises. That our spiritual practices are meant to help us draw into God's promises and require that we use every part of ourselves to experience God's truths. If we do not engage our mind in a promise, how can our heart follow? If our heart is wrought with anxiety, unchecked, how can we hope to experience spirit level peace? If we do not adjust our thoughts or bodily behaviors, why would we expect some of these promises to be fully experienced by us in our real lives? 

To experience this promise of refuge in our real lives, we need to engage our whole selves by:

Engaging our hearts - to engage our hearts we need to acknowledge why we are seeking refuge. What is going on in our hearts that we need that peace? What are we seeking refuge from, exactly? What are you hiding under those wings for? 

Is it fear of judgement, unmet expectations, or of unmet desires? 

Are you afraid he will leave? Or they will not come home? That the children will never come, or that that that man of God will never be found? Are you worried the diagnosis won't be what you want? Or, that this struggle is too much? Are you afraid of what they think? Or, are your own thoughts the cruelest ones?

Are you fearful of failure? Or weary of the wrong kind of success? Are you worried? Anxious? Weary? Lost?

Acknowledge it. Say it. Give it a name. Write it down. Tell him. 

Engaging our mind - we so often forget how powerful our thoughts are. We want to not be so fearful, and yet we fill our minds with thoughts of "what if" and "but, I know someone". We do not always guard our minds against the chaos of the world, and really realize what all the words and input are doing to our spirit. 

We have to note to ourselves what our own minds are doing to our hearts. We need to evaluate what thoughts are feeding the fear, worry and anxiety; what thoughts are chasing us into the need for refuge, and which ones are we trying to beat back while we try to rest in that place of safety. 

We have to know we are having those thoughts, so we can shut them off. We need to take those thoughts captive, and change them. 

We need to listen to our own inner voices, and shut ourselves up when we are repeating lies, or causing more chaos by allowing repetition of things that only harm, and do not help our spirits rest. 
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Engaging our bodies - Finally, we need to get our bodies in the game. We have lots of clues in scripture on how to do this. First, be still. Stop moving. 

In your effort to experience refuge under God's wing, let your body and mind just be still. Take the time to pause, to note your surroundings, to note your thoughts, to acknowledge your heart. Stop moving and just rest for a moment. 

And, breathe. Take a deep breath. When you breathe in, let your mind focus on "refuge". When you breathe out, let your heart let go of that reason you were seeking refuge. 

In refuge, and out fear.

In refuge, and out anxiety. 

In refuge, and out thoughts of your being less.  

It is ok to get our whole selves involved in God's promises. Just like he wants us to love him with every part of us, he really wants us to experience him in every part of us. And, we can - we can learn to embrace peace in our spirit, heart, mind and body by centering each of those on Godly truths as we purposefully engage each. 

I hope you take the time to do that - under his wings is a really blessed place to be. 

Do you have other ways that you engage your whole self into God's promises? Do share!