Do you need a spiritual awakening? (I do.) I have an idea …

I don’t know about you, but I’ve been spiritually asleep for too long now. A friend recommended a book recently called In the End–The Beginning by the German theologian Jurgen Moltmann and one particular chapter re-energized me and gave me some ideas for Lent. He says:

“In prayer we wake up to the world as it is spread out before God in all its heights and depths … the person who prays, lives more attentively. Pray wakefully.” (p. 83)

And I asked myself: What if I started praying again–actually praying? For a set amount of time… And how would it transform my life to pray “wakefully”?

He continues:

“When we wake up in the morning we expect the new day; and in the same way, the waking which springs from prayer to God also leads to the expectation of God in the life we experience. I wake up, and open all my senses for life–for the fulfillments and for the disappointments, for what is painful as well as for what gives joy. I expect the presence of God in everything I meet and everything I do … People who know that there is someone who is waiting for them and expecting them never give themselves up. And we are expected.” (p. 85)

Do I wake up expecting the presence of God in everything I do? Expecting God? And finally, this quote:

“To go through life with open eyes, to discern Christ in unimportant people, and, alert, to do the right thing at the right time: that is what praying and watching is about. We believe so that we can see–and withstand what we see.” (p. 86)

I’ve found this to be true. It reminds me of the Chinese friend I talk about in my book who encouraged me to pray for the pang bien de ren–the “right next to you people,” then watch for how God answers your prayer.

Would you consider joining me in praying for a set amount of time every day during Lent?

I tried this once before when I was single and living in China and it transformed me. That year, I read a psalm aloud and then spent an hour praying aloud every morning during Lent. Now that I am married with three small children, I’m thinking thirty minutes might be all that I can carve out, but I’m desperate for a spiritual reawakening.

We’ll begin this Wednesday with Ash Wednesday and end on Easter Sunday, but I hope this sparks a new habit of being spiritually awake to the work of God all around me.

If you’re interested, drop a comment here, email via my contact form, or send me a dm via social media to tell me you’re in and I’ll email the small group of us a couple times over the next few weeks just to see how things are going. Let me know your goal in the form of time. Personally, I’ll attempt to pray every morning from 5:15-5:45 am (which will mean going to bed super early…), but you can pick the time frame that works for you and your season of life.

If you can’t commit to this, but would like another challenge, you could also consider doing a digital detox/fast during Lent. You can read my post here for ideas on how to do that. Highly recommend.

Feel free to share this with a friend and invite them to join you.

Blessings to you as you seek to live purposefully and wakefully right where you are.

xo
Leslie

I don't know about you, but I've been spiritually asleep for too long now. Would you consider joining me in praying for a set amount of time every day during Lent? #Lent #Lent2020 #prayandwatch #prayer #Lentidea #Lentgoal #mindfulness

November 6, 2019November 6, 2019

Book Review of God’s Many Voices: Learning to Listen, Expectant to Hear

Although it can be difficult to pinpoint my exact “moment of salvation” on a timeline, if I go by that day as a ten-year-old when I knelt by my bed, asked Jesus to forgive me of my sins, and offered my life to God, I’d say I’ve been a Christian for thirty years now.

But just as you often hear of martial problems popping up around the twenty, thirty, or forty-year marks, the past couple years of walking with Jesus have been the hardest—mainly because he’s been the most silent. (Or perhaps because I’ve been the most distracted.) But I’ve also felt distant from God as I’ve ogled the shenanigans of the Western Christian church in the news more often than I’ve sat at the feet of Jesus. I’ve been ashamed to be a Christian because the church often looks so different from the Jesus I thought I knew.

So when I picked up Liz Ditty’s book, I’m embarrassed to confess that I didn’t have any expectations of meeting God within the pages. I should have known that with a book called God’s Many Voices: Learning to Listen, Expectant to Hear, God just might have something to say.

I read almost the entire book in one sitting this past weekend during a getaway with my husband. Like the nerds we are, we sat reading for hours in the loft at my parents’ house in the Rocky Mountains, keeping an eye out for the herd of elk wintering at their home in Grand Lake, Colorado. I kept giving my husband the side-eye, wondering if he saw the occasional tear fall or if he was getting annoyed by my furious underlining or vocal responses of “yes” and “hm” as I read.

Even though I think Liz and I are about the same age, as I read, I felt like the author was a trusted older sister sharing her life with me and giving me a peek behind the veil to learn from her relationship with God. Through wise, open, and honest personal stories, Liz neatly unzipped the truths of the Bible in ways I hadn’t considered before. She made me envious of her relationship with Jesus in the best sense of the word—she made me yearn for that kind of relationship myself.

After finishing the book, I feel inspired to spend time with God again on a daily basis. And I want to talk about God again in community with my husband, children, and friends. Liz discusses Bible reading, prayer, and listening in such a compelling way that it made me want to wake up early and begin seeking God like I have in the past. Her writing is clear, beautiful, and winsome, but she also manages to offer plenty of practical tips and ideas for pursuing and listening for the voice of God in our daily lives.

If you are in a wilderness season, a silent stretch, or have hit an apathetic patch in your relationship with God, this book may be just what you need to remind you of the joy, peace, and delight that comes from a thriving relationship with God. As a spiritual guide, mentor, and teacher, Liz will lead you straight to Jesus himself and remind you how to commune with him again.

***

I finally bought this book when I noticed it was super cheap on Amazon--$7.58 down from $16.99! I noticed she also has an audio book. If I were you, I’d pick up several copies of God’s Many Voices to give as Christmas gifts! (And if you do buy it, would you be willing to leave an honest review on Goodreads, Barnes & Noble, and Amazon? This helps authors more than you know!)

This post contains Amazon affiliate links

May 14, 2018

A Lament to God for Christ the Foster Child {guest post}

By Gena Thomas | Twitter: @genaLthomas

A few months ago, lament was heavy on my mind as I was hearing the news about DACA recipients. I didn’t know how to express my lament, so I opened up an amazing book by Soong-Chan Rah about lament and found the tool I didn’t know I needed: the acrostic. Then, stretching in a way I didn’t realize I needed to, I began to pen A Lament to God for Christ the Immigrant, with help and direction from the brilliant Juliet Liu.

Today marks a culmination of decisions that have me, once again, feeling the heaviness of lament. So once again, I have turned to the acrostic. And once again, I must thank Prof. Rah for this tool in the midst of weighted pain.

I lament:

for the Adulting you had to do at such a young age.
for the Bonds that must get prematurely cut.
for the Control you should have over your life but you don’t.
for the Decisions made without your input.
for the Environment you had to grow up in.
for the ‘Foster’ put before your name, and the prejudice that will come from it.
for the Grotesque scenes you’ve witnessed.
for the Heaviness you carry with you.
for the Isolation you constantly feel.
for the Juxtaposing you do daily between your life and everyone else’s.
for the Knowledge that has come to you out of its proper order.
for the Lying you’ve learned to mimic.
for the Mountains others will call mole hills.
for the Notes home from teachers that wouldn’t be there if …
for the Opportunities that never were.
for the Pains of growing up that will be deeper than most kids your age.
for the Questions that may never be answered.
for the Rights that may terminate or may not terminate.
for the Songs of childhood you never learned to sing.
for the Tension you may always hold between your past and your future.
for the Unwillingness for most people to understand you.
for the Visions of horror and the visions of home you hold in your minds eye.
for the Ways the people of God have not been intentional about loving you.
for the X-rays that show & don’t show the abuse.
for the Youth that was stolen and will never fully return.
for the Zeniths of times with blood family that may all be in the past.

For this I pray. For this I lament.

For the ways in which I have been selfish in my love for you, I lament, I repent.

Christ have mercy.

About Gena:

Gena Thomas served as a missionary in northern Mexico for over four years with her husband, Andrew. While there, the couple founded and managed El Buho, a coffee shop ministry that still serves the town of Hidalgo. Gena holds a masters in International Development. Purchase her book, A Smoldering Wick here and/or visit her at her blog or on Twitter.

This post originally appeared at www.genathomas.com and is used with permission by the author.

***

This month on Scraping Raisins, we’re talking about adoption, foster care and children. If you’re interested in guest posting about this theme, shoot me an email at scrapingraisins (dot) gmail (dot) com. The theme for June is “Create,” so you can also be thinking ahead for that. Be sure to check back or follow me on social media so you don’t miss the fabulous guest posters I have lined up this month!

Sign up for the Mid-month Digest and Secret Newsletter Here:

*This post includes Amazon affiliate links.

June 23, 2016

A Writer’s Prayer

My dear Jesus,

As I pull my chair up to the computer to write, I beg that you would not only sit next to me, patting me gently on the back, but actually dip down and draw up words from the well of your Spirit. I pray for your anointing. I want my words to make you smile.

Lord, I’m sorry for competing, comparing myself, and seeking affirmation from others. Forgive me for the pride of exalting myself instead of pointing to you. I confess my blatant ignorance of the suffering of others and the ways I shield myself from their pain so that I can continue in my comfort. Wash me, Lord, and purify my motives for writing.

Thank you for raising up writers to speak truth during days when truth seems like a shimmering mirage. As your daughters and sons, we see through a darkened glass, but it doesn’t mean that Truth is not solid or that it does not exist.

I pray for the boldness to speak up against injustice when I have the opportunity–even when I don’t have a solution.

I pray that fear would never keep me from doing what you have called me to do. Please give me faith to keep moving forward.

I pray that you would pour my boiling anger at rash injustice into the funnel of faith, hope and love. Mold it into a useful tool for building and planting instead of a weapon of violence that only kills, destroys and feeds the fury of hate.

I pray for the strength to do what I can, when I can, and to have grace for myself and others for the things that I am not capable of doing right now.

I pray that I would do my part–tend my small square in the larger tapestry–and write for my community and my people without being overwhelmed by how much more there is to do in the name of justice, hope and love.

I pray for the courage to be vulnerable, authentic and transparent if my openness will free others to feel they are not alone, aid in their healing or empower them to do the next thing. I pray my writing would cost me something.

I pray for the gift of words–dazzling, true, clear, precise words–that will best speak the message you want me to share.

I pray for discipline to write even when I feel tired, uninspired or empty.

I pray for energy to learn, change, grow, admit my weaknesses, beg forgiveness and ask hard questions that may have no obvious answers.

I pray for wide eyes, hearing ears, open hands and a burning heart that come from spending time in the presence of Jesus himself.

I pray for wisdom in choosing the path you have marked for me without getting distracted by the daisy-lined trails that may intrigue, but are not the ones you want me to explore.

I pray for miracles. May your Spirit transform my words–my simple offering of a few loaves and fish–and multiply them to feed the ones (even the one) you intend for them to feed.

I pray for encouragement on the days I want to quit. Please minister to me when I feel depleted and nourish me with even one small crumb of a reminder that I am still on Your Way.

Jesus, thank you for raising up other writers to add their voices to the collective chorus that is singing out boldly for you in the midst of so much pain, hatred and bitterness in the world. Keep our voices sweet, but strong.

Finally, I pray for love.

For “if I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give away all I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing (1 Corinthians 13: 1-3 NLT).”

Loveless words are empty words. Infuse my words with the purifying fire of your love.

Thank you for calling me to write for such a time as this. Thank you for the few magical moments when I’ve felt that you are pouring words into and drawing them back out of me. I pray that you would keep my voice in tune with yours and fill the earth with even more voices to sing out to you.

I pray that you would give us holy anger, inexplicable wisdom, unshackled hope, compassionate love, endless grace, spirit-fueled power and unpolluted vision as we cannot help speaking about what we have seen and heard (Acts 4:20)

Thank you that we are never alone, but that we write with you.

In Jesus’ powerful name.

Amen.

~~~

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Previous Post: A Book for the Budding Minimalist {The More of Less}

Next Post: Overcoming Smartphone Addiction

Related Post: To the Writer Mamas

Check out all the posts in this series here.

On (most) Thursdays this year, I’ll share thoughts, tips and inspiration for writers. I’m not an expert, but hope to seek personal encouragement in this art and want to share with anyone who’s also trying to find their way as a writer. These short posts will come from books, articles, the Bible, my own thoughts, and other people. If you’re new to the series, check out the posts you missed here. Please introduce yourself in the comments–I’d love to meet you and hear your thoughts on writing.

Happy writing!

Leslie

November 15, 2015January 13, 2017

Our Defense Against Evil

Lately, my son has been wanting to play “bad guys.” Meaning, he is the bad guy. I find myself hoping other people don’t hear him talking about wanting to be the “bad guy,” because, as Christ followers, we are supposed to be the “good guys.” I want him to be the “good guy.”

This morning, after news of the attacks in Paris, I watched my children eat their breakfast, sing their songs and make their goofy faces. My three-year-old son has no idea that people were slaughtered last night. My one-year-old daughter does not worry about her security or the state of the world. They eat, they sleep, they play. What kind of people slaughter the innocent? I think.

The bad guys do.

But my hunch is that the mothers of the killers in last night’s massacre did not want their children to be the “bad guys” any more than I want my son to be.

I’m guessing many of the militants had children of their own back home eating their breakfasts, singing their songs and making their goofy faces while their fathers were away. What do their mothers tell them when they hear the news that their husbands and fathers are not returning? That they were away being the “bad guys”?

Or do they truly believe that they are the “good guys”?

Truthfully, I have tried to hide from news about the evil in the world because it makes me feel fearful, powerless and guilty because I–at the moment–am happy and secure. I feel like there is nothing I can to do to stop the imminent tsunami of evil, so I try to ignore it and pretend it doesn’t exist.

And the news is something that I can effectually avoid, thanks to modern technology. It is easy to shield myself from anything that may make me feel uncomfortable. There are plenty of phone apps which allow you to select a tame version of the news that will not cause you to ponder the problems of the world. I don’t listen to the radio anymore, because I can listen to Pandora, and I don’t have interruptions of news during T.V. shows because we only watch Netflix. So any additional news that comes to me is now via Facebook, which is more likely the latest mommy blog article or food recipe than an article about the atrocities of the world.

We Americans like being isolated. We don’t actually want to know what is happening across the ocean because it makes us feel powerless. So we turn off the news and make it go away.

But then the bad guys strike again and we can’t escape into our holes.

So what do we do?

Though changing our Facebook profile picture to the colors of the French flag, tweeting, instagramming and posting pictures of the Eiffel tower with quotes and Scripture verses on social media are all ways we can show solidarity with the “good guys,” we all know the passion will dissolve within days and weeks. We will crawl back into our safe holes, squeeze our children close and forget.

But the bad guys are out there, believing that what they are doing is good.

Personally, I want to try to stop hiding and force myself to see.  War, famine, refugees, human trafficking, drug addiction, domestic violence, abuse, earthquakes, hurricanes and senseless violence are all too much for me to bear, so I will listen, I will learn and I will look until the pain and suffering begins to exceed what I can handle.

And then, in prayer, I will pour the evil back out to Someone who can hold it all without being overcome by the tsunami. Someone who, according to the Sunday school song, in fact, holds the whole world in His hands. My Jesus-following friends in Uganda called this type of pouring out of burdens and needs to God shundering. They would pace the floor all night, waving their hands and speaking to God about all that was on their hearts.

In my own quieter western ways, I will intentionally read the news, write down some world needs in my journal and then speak aloud to God for 15 minutes in the morning and, like Abraham, beg God to have mercy for the sake of a few righteous in the land.

And I will pray for the bad guys.

And I will pray for the children of the bad guys.

And I will pray for the mothers of the bad guys.

Because right now, from this side of the ocean, that is all that I know to do.

Dear God,

We pray for Paris and beg for your intervention in the world.
We pray against the plague of fear, which can spread like an infectious disease and instead pray for courage and peace.
We praise you for being a God who is not surprised by evil schemes and trust that you will bring all evil to justice in the end.
We pray that our world leaders would have wisdom as they make decisions that will affect many in the world in the days to come.

In Jesus’ name.
Amen.

Photo: “GeorgesGaren embrasement tour Eiffel” by Georges Garen. Licensed under PublicDomain via Wikimedia Commons –

Category: prayer

Do you need a spiritual awakening? (I do.) I have an idea …

Book Review of God’s Many Voices: Learning to Listen, Expectant to Hear

A Writer’s Prayer

Our Defense Against Evil

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