Friday, July 3, 2015
Glory of God’s Creation: Regaining a Sense of Wonder
Lake at St. John's University
O Lord, our Lord,
how majestic is your name in all the
earth!
You
have set your glory
above the heavens. . . .
When
I consider your heavens,
the work of your fingers,
the
moon and the stars,
which you have set in place,
what
is man that you are mindful him?
-Psalm 8:1-4a
Jesus
tells us that to enter the Kingdom of God, we must become like a child. Part of
being childlike is regaining a sense of wonder.
A
child enters each day with openness and a heart of adventure. Each new thing
that he or she sees—even a common ant scurrying across the sidewalk—is viewed
through the eyes of wonder. Trees and hills are approached with awe.
As
we grow up, we adopt the attitude of “been there and done that.” Nothing evokes
a sense of marvel in us. Even when we see new sights, we want to look “cool”
and not show our surprise or delight. In short, we do not want to look childish
or naïve.
Yet,
in order to mature spiritually, we must regain our childlike innocence,
especially our awe for God’s breathtaking work. Key to spiritual growth is a
sense of wonder.
Spending
time in creation is one of the best ways for me to rekindle my sense of awe and
wonder. Watching waves crash along the shoreline or soaking in the view from a
mountain peak refreshes me in ways I cannot explain. Know-it-all attitudes roll
away and fresh wonder sprouts in my heart. If I’m alone, I often find myself
spontaneously start to quietly sing: “O Lord my God, when I in awesome wonder,
consider all the worlds thy hands have made!”
©
2015 Glenn E. Myers
Friday, June 26, 2015
Life's Journey: Beautiful Even in the Rain!
Crashing
waves on Lake Superior
Wilderness
hiking includes weather of all kinds. Especially if you are backpacking for a
week or more, you should expect rain and shine, heat and cold.
When
I first began to backpack, I really disliked the rain. Then I began to relax
and realize that I was not going to melt when it rained. If the weather was
cold, I’d put on my raingear and do just fine. If the weather was hot, it
didn’t really make that much difference whether I got soaked from sweating or
rain!
Likewise,
when Sharon and I go to the cabin along the North Shore of Lake Superior, we
love each day, rainy or sunny. In fact, we kind of look forward to listening to
the rain patter on the roof of the log cabin. Sometimes the storm will whip up
the waves, as well—that is glorious to see the white caps crash against the
rocks or to fall asleep to the sound of the rhythmic waves. When we visited
there last week, we commented a number of times: It is beautiful even in the
rain!
When
it comes to daily life, however, I don’t do so well on rainy, stormy days. I
can get down on days that I cannot see the physical sunshine (I’d never make it
in the Pacific Northwest). In a figurative way, I struggle on days when there
is stormy interaction in relationships or when all my work seems to be like an
overcast sky.
Mentally
I know that life is not going to be endless sunshine. I understand that growth
often happens through conflict and resolution, if it is well handled. Yet, I
struggle to embrace those challenges. I have a hard time seeing that life is
“beautiful even in the rain.”
That
is what I’m working on in my heart this week—loving each day with all the sunny
times and rainy times. I know that lessons from the wilderness can be applied
to life, relationships, work, and my walk with God—although I’m not quite sure
how to make this application currently in my life! So throughout the day I’m
encouraging myself to embrace all that comes my way. Again and again, I’m
reminding myself that life is indeed beautiful even in the rain!
©
2015 Glenn E. Myers
Friday, June 19, 2015
Rocky Shores and Respites along the Way
North
Shore of Lake Superior
“He
makes me lie down in green pastures,
he leads me beside quiet waters,
he restores my soul.”
-Psalm 23:2-3
On
any journey, we need to take respites along the way. These are times to rest,
take some food and water, and enjoy the view wherever we are.
When
you travel with a group, some on the trip, of course, want to stop and take it
easy every fifteen minutes. The problem is that they don’t get very far! In
reality, they are not really interested in the journey, only in taking breaks.
Others—like
myself—make the opposite mistake. I get so focused on the goal for the day that
I forget to take breaks along the way! (Hiking in the Alps one time, my
companion—who was in pretty good shape—almost passed out because of the speed
we were going!) Driving too hard is just a bad as making no progress. When I
fail to pause from time to time, I miss the beautiful scenery, conversation
with companions, and so many things the Lord has given me to enjoy along the
way.
So
in our lives, we need to take time for rest, reflection, recreation and
restoration. When we lived in Europe for four years, we found that people there
do this much better than most Americans. Times of respite are essential to our
well-being: physically, emotionally and spiritually. The Good Shepherd indeed
wants to lead us beside those still waters, so our whole being can be restored.
However, sometimes I don’t follow his lead.
This
past week Sharon and I spent five days at our favorite cabin on Lake Superior.
Each morning we simply sat on the rocks, read, wrote in a journal, prayed, and
rested in the Lord. What a wonderful time! We took time to enjoy all that the
Lord has given.
Without
periodic retreats like this throughout the year, it would be difficult for me
to grow spirituality. I always feel like I have too many things to do and I’m
too busy to enjoy such a respite. However, once I am there, I realize how
necessary it is to rest along the way!
©
2015 Glenn E. Myers
Friday, June 12, 2015
Palisades on Lake Superior
From
the first time I went backpacking in high school, I discovered that mountains
are deceptive. From a distance they do not look nearly as tall—and
challenging—as they are. What looks like an hour’s hike to the uninitiated is
usually more like a four or five hour ascent. I’ve heard many young guys in
particular brag about how easy the mountain will be and how quickly they will
reach the top. Half way up, as they pause, huffing and puffing, they are
singing a different tune!
Mountains
are also deceptive in the way that you can see the whole elevation from a
distance, peak and all. However, once you are on it, it is hard to tell where
you are in elevation. Many times I have thought I must be approaching the peak,
only to arrive at a lookout point where I could get a view of things and found
that I had not yet attained the halfway point!
The
parallels between climbing a physical mountain and maturing spiritually are
numerous. From a distance, the ascent to become more Christ-like seems so
simple. We overcome some big sin in our lives and establishing a regular time
in Scripture, and we presume that we are almost at the top. Indeed, when I was
in 7th grade, I figured I was pretty spiritually mature!
Growing
up—physically and spiritually—sobered me tremendously. Now, some 45 years
later, I realize how high the peak is and how long and hard the trail is
leading up to it. When I look at my progress these days, I think I have hardly even
begun the ascent up the mountain. Of course that is not true: I have been
making some steady progress all of these years. What is different is my perspective.
I now have a realistic view of what spiritual formation is all about—the mountain
is so much higher than I ever imagined!
That
realistic view, however, does not need to discourage us. The fact that I’ll
spend the rest of my life climbing and still have a long way to go does not in
any way make me want to quit. Rather, it brings perspective and some humility
into my life. Moreover, it challenges me. No, I’ll never get close to the top,
achieving any sort of perfection in this life. However, I want to see how far I
can grow! From time to time when I get to a scenic overview, I want to savor
the view—recognizing how far the Lord has brought me. I want to enjoy all the
wildflowers along the path. Above all, I want to enjoy the company of the
Lord—my guide—along the way, because he indeed in my companion, as well as the
mountain upon which I am growing!
©
2015 Glenn E. Myers
Friday, June 5, 2015
Pilgrimage: Enjoying the Journey
North Shore of Lake Superior
This summer I hope to go
backpacking along the north shore of Lake Superior. It has been four years
since I’ve done a trip like this—I have really missed it!
Key to any hiking trip—whether
for an afternoon or several weeks camping in the wilderness—is enjoying the
whole event. You have to enjoy the process. That includes preparing and
packing, traveling to your entry point, hiking through sun and rain, setting up
camp, as well as just taking it easy at the campsite.
In the past, I’ve been on
trips with whiners—that is no fun! They only want to hang out and go swimming;
then they whine when meals need to be cooked and dishes wait to be washed, let
alone make a difficult day’s hike.
The reality is that
hanging out at camp is only a small fraction of the whole trip. Most of the
time is spent hiking, setting up and tearing down. You have to enjoy all of it,
else it is not worth heading into the wilderness. Of course there are parts of
the process I enjoy more than others. Yet, from the time I began camping in
high school, I determined to savor the whole trip—including the painful parts.
The Christian Pilgrimage
is very much like a backpacking trip. There are wonderful mountain top “highs”
and there are difficult and painful challenges. I’m still learning to embrace
all of life like I embrace camping trips. Inside I tend to be too much of a
whiner, even though I know that I grow through the difficult times.
My hope is that as I go
backpacking this summer, it will be a “refresher course” on enjoying the
journey so that I can apply it to my life-long pilgrimage with the Lord.
©
2015 Glenn E. Myers
Monday, May 11, 2015
Maturing through the Mundane
“In
all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called
according to his purpose.”
-Romans
8:28
Seldom
do we feel like we are maturing in the Lord through the day-to-day of life.
Rather than experiencing exhilaration from growing spiritually, we are
completely unaware of making much progress. Instead we feel overwhelmed with
our never-ending responsibilities and exhausted as we try to be faithful in our
walk with God. At times we are irritated by the demands on our time and by the
irksome people we are called to love.
Some
days we seem to experience one trial after another: we do not get a moment’s
rest. Although we cannot see what God is building in our lives, he is indeed at
work. In his classic, The Sacrament of
the Present Moment, Jean-Pierre de Caussade asserts: “It is in these
afflictions, which succeed one another each moment, that God, veiled and
obscured, reveals himself, mysteriously bestowing his grace in a manner quite
unrecognized by the souls who feel only weakness in bearing their cross,
distaste for performing their duty, and capable only of the most mediocre
spiritual practices” (17).
In
the midst of fulfilling our duty—which includes much that is mundane—we cannot
see God’s providence nor feel his presence. Instead we walk by faith, not by
sight (2 Corinthians 5:7). The hand of the Lord remains hidden in the
circumstances that press in on us.
Nevertheless,
we choose to hope in his promise that “in all things God works for the good of
those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose” (Romans
8:28). Although we currently see nothing happening, we cling to God’s assurance
that “suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character” (Roman 5:3-4).
Our
obedience to God through fulfilling our obligations and our faithfulness in the
mundane is sacred. Indeed, the present moment—no matter how challenging or
dull—is sacramental. Our response to the duty before us is central to God’s
plan to transform us.
“God’s
order and his divine will, humbly obeyed by the faithful, accomplishes his
divine purpose in [us] without [our] knowledge,” continues de Caussade, “in the
same way as medicine obediently swallowed cures invalids who neither know nor
care how” (42).
I
want to be transformed! The deepest desire of my heart it to be made into the
image of Christ. Toward that end, I am learning to embrace all that God brings
into my life, counting the trials as “pure joy” (James 1:2). Although I can
neither see nor feel God’s hand at work in the moment, I know he will
accomplish his will in my life!
Quotes
are from Jean-Pierre de Caussade, The
Sacrament of the Present Moment, trans. Kitty Muggeridge (San Francisco,
CA: HarperSanFrancisco, 1989).
©
2015 Glenn E. Myers
Saturday, April 11, 2015
Easter: Fresh Spiritual Awakening
“Awake, O
sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you.”
-Ephesians 5:14 (ESV)
Spiritual awakening
is not a one-time event in our lives. Rather, we have seasons of awakening when
everything is fresh and new. We follow with seasons of green, filled with
steady growth. In turn, we also walk through seasons of loss, like autumn, when
all the color seems to fall from life. Sometimes we experience winters when
inside we turn cold and numb.
Yet, just as the
ever-strengthening sun thaws the frozen earth each spring, so God’s light calls
us to new springtime and fresh awakenings. It may be a new area of our life
that God wants to rouse from sleep. It might be an aspect of our walk with him
that was once vibrant--but has hardened during difficult times—that the Lord
wants to rejuvenate.
It may be a new
challenge that the Almighty places before us or a new relationship into which
he is inviting us. It may be a new ministry or service to others that God is
calling us into—perhaps something we never dreamed of doing or even wanted to
do! But the bright light of God’s presence is clear as day: the Lord is calling
us to awaken!
This Easter
season is an invitation to you and me to wake up in one area of our life or
another. Take some time this coming week to wait on the Lord and ask him where
you might be asleep without even know it. Ask God what he wants to waken in
your life!
2015
© Glenn E. Myers
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