Tag: The Message

Inspirational

Grace Train Sounding Louder – thoughts on writing the tough chapters

Jana Greene10 Comments

By: Jana Greene

“But how can people call for help if they don’t know who to trust? And how can they know who to trust if they haven’t heard of the One who can be trusted? And how can they hear if nobody tells them? And how is anyone going to tell them, unless someone is sent to do it? That’s why Scripture exclaims,  A sight to take your breath away!  Grand processions of people  telling all the good things of God!  But not everybody is ready for this, ready to see and hear and act. Isaiah asked what we all ask at one time or another: “Does anyone care, God? Is anyone listening and believing a word of it?” The point is: Before you trust, you have to listen. But unless Christ’s Word is preached, there’s nothing to listen to.” – Romans 10:14-17 (The Message)

When I first read this scripture,  I thought about a locomotive. The image came to my mind of a train making stops in all kinds of places and picking up wayward people of all walks of life before continuing down the track.  I don’t know why.  Writers are a peculiar bunch when it comes to thinking (and everything else).

Another  line of thought  kept me active in my alcoholism for many years:  Nobody knows how I feel.  As long as I fed that train on the black coals of Terminal Uniqueness, the faster it gained speed for the inevitable train wreck.  Since no one else has had the exact  same life experiences that I have, I felt justified in drinking – and so I drank more and felt sorrier for myself and entered a tunnel of dark denial, and well….enough of the locomotive metaphors.  The result was disaster that I might not have survived.

I might not have.  But I did, because God is real and because surrender is an option.

The book I’m working on writing is about the ways that I’m not unique, which is most ways.  It is about life happening to a person who lost control; about that loss of control being the best thing that ever happened to her because it set the trajectory for letting go and letting God do His work.  There are elements of comedy, because so much in life is absurd, and musings about getting older, raising kids, and the like. Also along the storyline, there are many dark tunnels,  experiences that may speak to others who have lost control, these are the the parts that are difficult to write. Painful to write.  I would rather not include some experiences in the book  because they are embarrassing and shameful.

But they are the very same things that made me feel as though nobody knew how I felt when I first tried to get sober. They are universal, really – just as much as getting older and raising kids. Everyone hurts.  I think it’s important that others know they are not alone, not “too bad” for God to love, not a train wreck waiting to happen. Unless there is a Grand Procession of Christ-followers willing to be honest, who will help? God has given me a beautiful, awful, honorable burden to write about my recovery so that maybe someone with similar uniqueness will know that God can be trusted.

Or as Isaiah said in scripture, “Does anyone care? Is anyone listening and believing a word of it?”

I care. I believe.

As I relinquish the engine to God and ride in the boxcar, barefoot and vulnerable with my legs dangling over the passing tracks – watching the world and enjoying the view, and grabbing ahold of other wayward sinners on the way, pulling them up to ride along side me. There are bumps in the track and the car rattles at times, and we are not certain where it is headed.  But it’s okay because we are confident that the Engineer knows what He’s doing.

It is a sight to take your breath away.  And breathe life into your soul.

Inspirational

Bumping into the Light (Prayer, Awkwardness and the Wildest Love)

Jana Greene8 Comments

By: Jana Greene

I’m not sure if God is moving me slightly out of my comfort zone, or if he just keeps changing where “comfortable” abides in me, but He has been manifesting His love in the wildest ways lately.  Like standing under a blackening sky, I find myself a bit afraid of the darkness in the world until….Look! A tiny star appears, and then another, and another.  He keeps bringing points of undeniable light all around me until I am so surrounded by his obvious love, and the darkness is overpowered.  I just keep bumping into light and love, utterly grateful.

One of the areas becoming new to me is praying aloud with others.  Strangers.  I am perfectly comfortable writing to God, writing about God, writing with the Holy Spirit guiding me.   But verbally, I am not eloquent in the least.  I stumble over my words and stutter in making my request. Complicating the matter is that I don’t do so well in large groups, or in public speaking, and the role I’m stepping into requires both.   But still, I’ve felt the tugging at my spirit to step out of what is comfortable in order to plead on behalf of others in front of the father.  So, I’m trying to be obedient in that.

I am blessed that one of my closest friends, Melissa, is a gifted pray-er. The first time I prayed for others with her, I was humbled immensely.  She and I were huddled together with a couple of people who were hurting and needed prayer, all of us crying, and my friend’s words were cascading into the small, intimate space between our faces.  She first invited God to our circle, and then her words just knew what to ask Him for.  And as she made petition to the Lord to heal the hurts, she praised him for meeting us in that place and for all that He was already at work doing.

Request and praise.

Make vulnerable and give glory.

Ask and trust.

Afterward, I thought about her glorious prayer, which was not stumbled over, but straight from her heart to God’s in the most raw and holy way.

“You are such a good pray-er,” I told her, and hugged her tight.  But later on, I wondered if “pray-er” is even a word found in the dictionary.  As it turns out, it is not.

Prayer is defined as an address (as a petition) to God in word or thought, or a set order of words used in praying.  But in doing a little research, I found out that “one who prays” is called: a “Supplicant” -one who makes humble petition. My friend, Melissa, is an excellent Supplicant.

We, in relationship to God our Father, are all Supplicants – whether our set of words flows easily or with struggle.  Perhaps when we link hands with a stranger and petition God to hear us, our willingness to act with supplication is part of our prayer.  I’m trying to learn this when I pray with others, not to worry about presentation, but presence.

Last Sunday after church, I went up front to pray for others with my Supplicant friend.  We held hands as we waited for others to come forward for prayer, and I peered out into the congregation.  The lighting in our sanctuary is kept very low during this time, so that worshipers might concentrate more fully on God instead of worrying what others might think.  I’ve always appreciated this twilight-prayer time personally because I get so easily distracted, but today, it looked dark out there in the crowd.

Until a young lady and her friend came up for prayer- two tiny stars of light until they were in our arms and under Melissa’s fervent prayer. I allowed myself to stop nervously formulating prayers for my time aloud, and melted into the pleads and tears and worship that was spreading throughout the entire sanctuary like wildfire.  I was the “amen” section for this prayer-time, which was just fine with me.  All of us – we prayed in agreement – and  Jesus, huddled up with us, delighting in  Melissa’s beautiful words of supplication, through her gifting – music to His ears.

On the walk back to our seats, we could not move without bouncing into light and love, and I wondered….

Is it possible  my stumbling on words is of no consequence to God, who considers the heart even in silent prayers?  If He can read my thoughts, he knows my gifting and lack thereof, He can translate my awkward out-loud requests. Perhaps the word ‘prayer’ is both a noun to describe words that petition and a noun that describes the humbled person doing the petitioning.   Maybe we are walking, breathing prayers – going about the daily business of living in constant pleading and praising.  Continual requests and praise as we make ourselves vulnerable, asking and trusting and giving Him glory throughout.

And He answers, overpowering darkness….manifesting His love in the wildest ways.

Recovery

Lead me not into temptation – or a sketchy alleyway ATM

Jana Greene4 Comments

By:  Jana Greene

At the end of a long alleyway in my city’s otherwise very lovely downtown district there is a dumpster, a metal landing that leads to nowhere and an incongruous automated teller machine.  Or at least it advertises itself as such, what with the bold-font red printed “ATM” lettering.  When my husband and I passed it while strolling around,  I burst out laughing.

“Looks legit,” I said. He laughed too.  I took a picture of it, which really doesn’t represent the shady-factor, since I had to zoom in a good bit in order to see the “ATM: letters.  The machine is far, far down the alley.

Who would go down that path?  I suppose you might be tempted to use it if you  really needed cash and had no other way to get it.  But there are teller machines at nationally-known banks fifty feet away in either direction.

I don’t know if it is a legitimate machine or not,  because  it didn’t feel safe to venture down the alley, much less withdraw cash and have to venture back out.  It seemed very sketchy.

Going into dangerous places often feels “sketchy”.

When I first became sober, I acutely felt temptation everywhere.  The first time I made a run to the grocery store as a person in active recovery, I barely made it through one aisle before having a panic attack, because I knew that a mere six aisles away was the wine section.  By the time I passed the wine en route to the frozen foods, I finished my shopping while quietly sobbing, grieving.  It has been eleven years since that day and I have grocery shopped without incident for years – passing  the wine section like someone with a fatal addiction passes the peanut products – they are perfectly safe for most people, but not for me.

But I still don’t go into a liquor store.  It’s just a dangerous place for me.  Why risk temptation?

Another dangerous place can be my own mindset.  Sometimes in my anxiety,  I allow my mind to wander around, consulting my experience instead of my chaperone (and sponsor) Jesus.    Who would go down that path?  Me.  But in truth, my past mistakes have never held the key to coping with life on life’s terms.  So when those dark-alley thoughts appear, Jesus reins me back by reminding me that temptation never comes from Him.

Don’t let anyone under pressure to give in to evil say, “God is trying to trip me up”.  God is impervious to evil, and puts evil in no one’s way.  The temptation to give in to evil comes from us and only us.” – James 1:13-14

My mind is not always the best judge of what is dangerous, sometimes temptation doesn’t feel dangerous – just tempting.  What I need is never in the sketchy place; God never tries to trip me up.  It is in Him, and His good and perfect will.

The most legit place there is.

Spiritual

Chocolate Salad for the Soul

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By:  Jana Greene

“I always thought the Bible was more of a salad thing, you know, but it isn’t. It’s a chocolate thing.”  – Donald Miller, Blue like Jazz:  Nonreligious Thoughts on Christian Spirituality

The first time I read the quote above, I laughed out loud.  Mr. Miller put to words my feelings about the Bible.

In the past, I have believed:

The Bible was bland like ice-berg lettuce…I’d  had it a hundred times; I knew what it has to offer.

Or filler,  like fiber.  I knew  I should have it to keep things in working order, but I resented needing it.

Or as justification to imbibe in something decadent ….. because I was  planning on doing things my way later.

If I’d  bought a pretty case to carry it in from a Christian bookstore (bonus points?) , it was nearly as good as consuming it.  For some strange reason, that made me feel better about never opening it.

All dressing.

In the past, I have considered The Bible a “salad” thing:  devoid of surprises, ancient, boring.

Read it.  It’s good for you.

It will help you grow big and strong.

But when I stopped thinking I knew everything about it….I found it to be Chocolate for the Soul.

A few years ago, my family presented me with the gift of a new Bible.  The scriptures were written so  that I could  easily consume and digest them.  The Message is the translation for which my craving for holiness and my short attention span decided to cooperate with one-another.

Thank you, Jesus.

It turns out that The Good Book is indulgent, but I  have to open the wrapper in order  to indulge.

The Bible is a chocolate thing:

Rich and personal, as if someone knew exactly what I would go through at different times in my life, and wrote me a letter about it.

Available to savor.  I have the privilege of picking it up anytime I like.

Satisfying.  I know of nothing else that fills the soul-space, the empty mold I’ve tried filling up with  all of the things that the world believes will satisfy.

It’s a treat to know what God thinks about me.  It’s the sweetest thing to know He loves me  with decadence.  He loves  me in a very non-ancient, un-dusty, and unpredictable way.  Not boring in the least.

I rarely crave salad, but chocolate?  All the live-long day.

Go ahead, unwrap it.  It will help you grow big and strong….in ways you never imagined.

 

Spiritual

“Can You Hear Me Now?” – God

Jana Greene9 Comments

By:  Jana Greene

Do you ever wish God used a megaphone?  I do.

I have a couple of friends who are blessed with the ability to hear from God:  that small, still voice, presenting audibly.   I believe it is a gifting, the way speaking in tongues is a gifting, but not one of mine.  At least not yet.

A few months ago, I felt like the Lord was telling me to quit my stressful job.  (Convenient, right?  That’s why I didn’t listen at first).  I was experiencing health issues and as my doctor said, “something had to ‘give’. “  (As I live in a house with three daughters of the teenage persuasion, it was unlikely to ‘give’ at home.)  And my creativity?  Withering on the vine.  By the end of the day, I was too tired to create anything, even dinner for my family.

“It’s ok,” I felt like my Father in heaven was telling my spirit.  “Its ok to quit your job.”

But it was a good job; a full-time job, with benefits.  Employment is hard to come by these days.  So, I figured I must have misunderstood God.  But the health issues got worse.

I wanted to be obedient, but I also wanted my 401-k and paid time off.  In essense, I wanted assurance of a favorable outcome.  Nevermind that, in thirty years of salvation, God has never given me a guarantee that “Plan B” will pan out.  Even when I am absolutely sure that I am being obedient. But things have always worked out to the good.   I suppose that’s why it is called a Leap of Faith, and not a Baby step of Certainty.

My prayers continued.  Please, God….show me the direction to go.

“Write,” my interpretation of his voice said.  “Quit your job, and write.”

Why would God, who knows all, advise me to do that?  And what if I was hearing Him wrong?  What if, because writing has always been my dream, I am hearing what I want to hear?  The stakes are high here, there is much to lose.

But so, so much to gain.

For weeks, there was confirmation that it was time to quit.  It was time to move on and take a risk.  Still, I kept hoping that the clouds would break open, the sun shine upon me, and the booming voice God – who sounds a lot like Morgan Freeman in this scenario – would tell me what to do.  (He also called me a “good and faithful servant” here, but I digress).

If that actually happened, it would not be a Leap of Faith on my part, I guess.  It would be more a Baby -Step of Certainty.

If I want to hear what God is saying, I have to approach it with openness.   I have to ask that He reveal His will.  It seems so simple, but I forget to ask specifically sometimes, but still wait for an answer.  Just asking is the first step.

I have to read what He has to say in His Word.  I use The Message translation because it is plain to me, and although I enjoyed Geoffrey Chaucer’s “The Canterbury Tales” as much as the next 10th grader in high school, I like to read The Word to read plainly, not in King James English.  My soul digests the message easier when my brain doesn’t have to digest it first.

I’ve learned that other Believers are a resource that God expects us to tap into.  I must ask for prayer, and listen to the advice of those who walk closest with Christ.   (Different from taking a “poll” – which  is what I mistakenly did at first.   The reactions amongst my friends were split about 50/50, with “Wow!  Good for you!” and “Are you CRAZY?” being the predominant reactions.)

My believing friends?   Overwhelmingly supportive.  When I ask them for prayer, there is always the chance that they might even hear audibly the confirmation that I received only from a gentle brush to my spirit.

I am so afraid to misunderstand, which of course, I will at times. It’s part of learning to discern God’s voice.  My struggle is that even when I hear from God – quite unmistakably – I still question it.

JESUS (using megaphone):  Quit your job and write.

ME: Get  a mob at night? Fit the fob just right?  Lob it out of sight?  What, Lord, WHAT?

Jesus:  **FACEPLAM**

Maybe that’s why I don’t hear him audibly.  If He did use a megaphone, I would no doubt complicate his command by over-analyzing.  He really isn’t a drill sergeant anyway.  He is love itself, patient and kind.  SO patient and kind.  And if I mis-heard?  He will still use the experience to bless me and others, and to glorify Him.   He is so awesome that way.

I quit my job, and I’m writing.  I don’t know how long it will be before I need to find a paying job, I trust God will let me know.  As for today, I have peace that passes understanding.  As for today, I am healthier, if not wealthier, and my soul is “listening” for the next move.

That small, still voice that presents by brushing my spirit?  It’s the sweetest sound.