Parenthetically Speaking

by Nancy Turley

15 “I am the Lord, your Holy One,
The Creator of Israel, your King.”
16 Thus says the Lord,
Who makes a way through the sea
And a path through the mighty waters,
17 Who brings forth the chariot and the horse,
The army and the mighty man
(They will lie down together and not rise again;
They have been quenched and extinguished like a wick):
18 “Do not call to mind the former things,
Or ponder things of the past.
19 Behold, I will do something new,
Now it will spring forth;
Will you not be aware of it?
I will even make a roadway in the wilderness,
Rivers in the desert."
                          Isaiah 43:15-19, (NASB)

I found it unexpectedly one morning...a parenthesis around a particular verse in the Bible...as if it were God giving us a specific "e.g." (an abbreviation for the Latin words exempli gratia, which means "for the sake of example) to further illustrate what he meant in the previous verse. I don't think I've ever seen a parenthesis in the Bible before and it therefore piqued my interest. I often use parentheses while writing, for added emphasis.

I think Isaiah did the same thing but more specifically the emphasis acted as a transition from past to future. He, in essence, reminded the Israelites that, despite their exile into Babylon, He still had a plan for them. When backed up against the Red Sea with no place to go, He led them through the impossible. Isaiah emphasizes here that the enemy was drowned, quenched, extinguished like a candle wick. 

He then admonishes them to look for the future and NOT to think of the past.

I continue to hope for those roadways God will make for us in the wilderness and how He will provide rivers in our deserts! I look forward to Spring, for those bulbs that have been hidden in the darkness but will rise from the earth to flower into glorious colors.

Start-Up Repair

 By Nancy Turley 

It is because of the Lord’s lovingkindnesses that we are not consumed,
Because His [tender] compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
Great and beyond measure is Your faithfulness.
                                                                                                              Lamentations 3:23

Our dogs jumped up on our bed, acting as our usual alarm clock to wake us.  It took me a moment to compute what day it was…a working day or a weekend.  I relished the time on weekends, not so much to sleep in but to have more time in my “reading room” to read in the morning, pray, and do some writing.  That morning I wanted to get busy on my laptop to write some ideas down before I forgot them.  I pressed the power button and could hear the power noise on my laptop gearing up. Then, in just a few seconds...BLIP!  The power light flashed off and the monitor went dark as if a fuse had blown.

I groaned as thoughts flashed back to the last time this happened when I had to take it into the computer shop to get it fixed. It took four days before I could pick it up.  I use my laptop almost every day, so I was frustrated and disappointed that it had once again lost power.  I wondered if I had not charged the laptop last time before I set it to hibernate and it had run out of juice.

I retrieved the electric cord from my laptop bag, plugged it into laptop and the power outlet and again pressed the power button. I tried a new approach this time and held it down until past the time the laptop started booting up. The monitor screen came on with the message alerting me that there had been an interruption in my last session and then a screen came up titled “Start-Up Repair.”

I sighed in relief but wondered if this repair would really work as I had no idea what caused it to blip out in the first place. The battery said it was still at 43%, so it was not what I had originally thought. I followed the Window application questions.  It felt like it was an analogy to hard booting my own morning. And the thought did not escape me that this was what we need at times for other situations in our own lives.

The question first from my laptop was: 

“Do you want to restore your computer using Start-up Repair to an earlier time when the computer worked correctly?”

I’m thinking, “Well, duh. Of course I want it to work correctly. Would someone actually say NO to that?”

Then further informative words came forth from my anthropomorphic laptop: “The repair will not change personal data, but it might remove some programs that were recently installed."

I’m pondering again: “Hmmm…I don’t think I have purposefully loaded a new program on here, so where did that come from?”

”You cannot undo this restoration,” says my laptop.

My unverbalized retort to my Dr. Spock-like laptop was, “Okay.  If my goal is to get you working again and it won’t change my personal data previously stored on my laptop, this is good. And yet, if it were me, not the laptop, I may want you to change some past personal data as well as correct that malware I installed.”

I went ahead and pressed the button to proceed with this repair. My laptop’s reply: “Your computer might restart several times during this process and might take several minutes.”

In the end, instead of several minutes, it took thirty, but my laptop did restart and it only took one time.  It rebooted fine and was back to normal. Still, the analogy was blatant enough not to ignore possible implications. I still don’t know what caused it to blip out in the first place.  But I remembered that my first thought went to a bad case scenario. “I’m going to have to take my laptop away to get this fixed and it’s going to take four days.”

Then my thoughts moved to, “Hmm. Well, I just met a man who goes to my church who could fix it and probably quicker than the other guys. This may not be so bad and it would give me an opportunity to get to know him and his wife better.” I breathed up a quick prayer and let go of my negative energy about it.

Then it went to, “Let’s try one more thing before I give up.  Let’s plug it into the power with the electric cord and see if it might connect better that way.”

Once again, my short-lived real-life situation of my laptop start-up repair felt like it revealed several analogous lessons:

1)      The story we tell ourselves instead of getting the facts may skew the outcome.

2)      Reframing the circumstances and import of the “event” may yet bring hope and lead to resolution.

3)      Plugging into power (from God or empowerment from friends) can affect a repair or solution that will work. (Note to self:  it may take longer than originally thought, but it will work.)

4)     God still keeps the essence of who we are (He doesn't want to change that) but does wasn't to repair the thoughts and our character that cause us to "blip out!"

5)     The restoring salvation God gives is for keeps…it can’t be undone.

6)     And yet, if we need start-up repair again for whatever reason, He’ll take us back to the point it occurred and restore us anew then too. His mercies and compassion happen every day.

Gaining Understanding

By Nancy Turley
 

"You don't know what you don't know when you're young.” (and sometimes old - added by N. Turley)  (The original quote is from Lots Of Candles, Plenty Of Cake, Advice to My Younger Self by Anna Quindlen)

"A wise (wo)man will hear and increase with learning. And a (wo)man of understanding will acquire wise counsel.”

"For the Lord gives wisdom; from his mouth come knowledge and understanding; he stores up sound wisdom for the upright.”

 “Keep sound wisdom and discretion. So they will be life to your soul.”

                            
“All her paths are peace. She is tree of life to those who take hold of her and happy are all who hold her fast.”  

                            Proverbs.1:5, 2:6-7a, 3:21b-22a; and 3:17 , 18a (NASV)

”If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you.  But when you ask, you must believe and not doubt…”  

                             James 1:5. 6a (NIV)

Recently I attended a Lunch and Learn seminar sponsored by our safety department at work. The title was “Cause Mapping.” The hook for the seminar was, “Do you know the reason the Titanic sank?” Most of us immediately went to the main cause—that the ocean cruiser ran into an iceberg—as well as a few other explanations, but what surprised all of us was, in the end, 123 reasons were found to be causes or the “whys?” that so many lives were lost when this ship sank.

The discussion was fascinating as we further learned that had just one or two of these causes been fixed or paid heed to in the earlier time line of what led to the Titanic’s demise, the ship may not have sunk and so many lives been lost. Had the bulkhead been sealed correctly, had the SS Californian responded earlier, had the rudders been fashioned to turn more quickly, had there not been such arrogance of the designer and captain that this ship was “unsinkable”—many, or all, of those 1523 lives would not have perished.

Lately I’ve been pondering about other “sinking causes”—people or things that seem to be sinking or situations where the ship is heading towards an iceberg about to tear a big hole in lives or already has. 

To what degree does the universal and Biblical adage of “what you sow, you will reap” create a pathway that cannot be reversed? To what degree do earlier choices pave that more problematic life pathway that then makes it so hard to make a turn-about? Is there a statute of limitations on how soon we have to turn around before it’s too late to alter present life circumstances, to realize the potential God created us for? 
 

The law of cause and effect can’t be easily overruled just because we are sorry later on. I want to understand my own, and others, “cause mapping.”  I want to understand the root causes of behaviors, the whys of our journeys. But much more than that, I want to see hope despite the small and big ships that have sunk in our lives. In the midst of negative circumstances caused by wrong, ignorant or even innocent choices we made along the way. I want to see grace override that and see how God is weaving it for good.  I want wisdom for us to navigate in the midst of our present journeys. I want to see a redemptive ending despite difficult current pathways. 

I do think years of life can add wisdom, but even in our more “mature” age we still are figuring out that “we don’t know what we don’t know.” And some 20 and 30 year olds have much more wisdom at their age than I ever had at that age (or may ever have).  How did they get that? How do any of us obtain wisdom and where does that start? How, does one gain understanding that provides a reason to keep going and hopefully, have some kind of happier ending? 
  

In the case of the Titanic, for those that survived, it was because they had access to the lifeboats and were fortunate to be able to climb aboard, or others held onto a buoyant part of the blown apart boat, or perhaps had the stamina to tread water longer than others and they lived long enough to be pulled in when thrown a lifesaver. 

For those of us who are drowning or feel like we are sinking, there is another lifesaving tool, that story twist that can still give us a “happy ending.” It’s when we ask for wisdom from God who says He’ll generously give it to us. But before that can happen, it seems we first have to see our part in our demise (or our need for something beyond ourselves), and admit that God is the author of the wisdom we need. It’s a cross-roads place of faith that truly trusts God has our backs, where we truly expect an answer. And to be able to walk in that happier ending we need to accept and act on the wisdom given. 

Regardless of the causes, it’s when we swim towards the lifesaver God throws out to us or climb aboard the lifeboat, that we receive grace and start the journey towards gaining understanding. 

I love that wisdom brings life to our souls and that its paths are peace. I love that wisdom is like a tree of life and thus promises a fruitful future—that acting on what we know we need to do (or not do), will put us on a forward path again. That, despite the cause, or how deeply sunk we may feel, there is a lifeboat to bring us back to firm land.

And for those of us praying for others whose rudders are not turning fast enough to avoid looming icebergs: perhaps our prayer should be that they are led to a point to cry out for rescue and ask for wisdom. Because then...they (and we) have the opportunity by learning and acquiring wise counsel, to get to the place of practicing more of what we then know we know.

And, the further good news is that "God gives grace to those who are afflicted." (Proverbs 3:34 -NASB). He does not have a statute of limitations if we call on Him to help us.  He can turn around and redeem the difficult circumstances of our lives and work them all together for good. 

GRACE FLAKES

Your grace falls softly like snowflakes…gently…uniquely. 
Collectively the crystals gather, illuminating our
darkness even in the night when we crave your presence
or forget you are as near to us as you are.
                  
We watch flakes grow smaller then big again and sense the wooing to calm our spirits, to rest in this blanket of love, to accept the miracle of nourishment, both to earth and our inner soil and soul.


As more flakes grow into tall mounds of white help us remember we are safe,
That snow angels encamp about us outside. Continue to protect us as we trust you to be our refuge in times of trouble and stress.

 Let us feel the soft feathers of your winged love regardless of cold, flood and angst. Remind us that stilling ourselves in you brings peace that passes understanding

THE MYSTERY OF FAITH: PERIPHERAL VISION

And here you are, 

Teasing in the corner of my eye,
Offering peripheral visions,
Knowing
That what can’t be borne
in sunlight
May still be known
in shadow.
 “Sometimes we can come to know a thing only by averting our gaze, by not shocking it with the full force of our looking…”

“…God longs to be courted, to dwell in a mystery that keeps us aching to touch the skin beneath the shadow.”

Quotes and the partial poem above are from the book In Wisdom’s Path, by Jan L. Richardson, Wanton Gospeller Press, © 2000,                  Website link: http://www.janrichardson.com/about.html
 
“Immortal, invisible, God only wise, In light inaccessible hid from our eyes…”
       (Lyrics from the hymn, “Immortal, Invisible,” Welsh melody, Walter Chalmers Smith (1824-1908)

Thoughts and ponderings of paradox mill much in my mind these days.  One of the most intriguing to me is how those who celebrate the mystery of faith (The crux: “Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again”), embrace a truth that is an intangible tangible.  We can’t touch or physically hold this faith, but we see its rays of light radiating strongly in darkness from those who believe in the mystery of God. Faith in this mystery that is our Creator, Redeemer and Friend, sustains those in grief and loss, gives hope to those who can’t see beyond the next bend in life as they wait for guidance or healing, lends meaning and significance to unanswered questions, and cradles in love those who desire and know the depth of God’s love for them.

Right before Thanksgiving my husband Steve and I attended the celebration of life service for Paul, the husband my dear friend Deb, who I've known for over 35 years. Their daughter, age 20, and son, age 16, and Deb knew that their father and husband walked in the mystery of this deep faith. He died way too soon of brain cancer at age 58. Trying to dissect this or look at it head on, the “why?” questions can’t be answered or given justice that makes any sense. But the “edge of faith” allows us to see from a different angle or point of view—perhaps seeing with “peripheral vision” into the truth that the Holy Spirit reveals. As Jan Richardson’s poem says, “That what can’t be borne in sunlight may still be known in shadow.”  I think this shadow is the vision of faith, akin perhaps to “seeing in the dark” or "looking outside the box." Though the mystery of who God is, remains "in light inaccessible hid from our eyes," vision through faith can illuminate more clearly.

Both Steve and I each have one eye that has lost clarity of central vision. Steve, due to a huge floater right in the center of his eye, and myself, as I wait the repair of a macular hole surgery. We both however, have better peripheral vision.  I resonate with Jan Richardson’s poem and prose above. She is the third person in just three months to proffer that we can see the stars better by looking through our peripheral vision (out of the corner of our eye) than straight at them.

The conundrums of life that bring questions which can’t be answered or fathomed by looking at them straight on or with scientific lenses, may be given light by looking at it from the "periphery" of faith vision. Of the hundreds of people who gathered for Paul’s service and celebrated the mystery of his faith, I doubt that any of us clearly yet understood why he was taken at this time from his family and friends. But we share in whom he believed and we “court our God” with thanksgiving as we know he will reveal enough light in the shadows to allow us to see enough. We ache and yearn to touch God, the skin of Him in person. We rest for now on promises of hope in the unseen, with the mystery we call faith.

And Yet, I Ponder This

 © Nancy Turley  

'Therefore we do not lose heart, but though our outer man is decaying, yet our inner man is being renewed day by day.”   II Corinthians 4:6

“I would have despaired unless I had believed I would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living." Psalm 27:13
       


My heart is rent for those who grieve for a lost spouse, for lost health, for a lost dream.
It aches for those who grasp for healing and find no present cure,
Who hunger for relief in spirit or body while the earth still spins,
Who mourn what cannot be recovered.

And yet, I ponder this:
       Those that have lost know more clearly what really matters.
       Those who cry deeply for their loved ones still celebrate their joy in heaven.
       Those in pain yet hold on to the hope of their calling by the heavenly Artist.

I question why some awaken to deep pain in the night,
How shadows steal rest or joy until they see morning light,
How life is taken unfairly by tongs of the unknown or evil.

And yet, I ponder this: 
     Those who know the Artist know He uses dark and light colors to accentuate truth,
     That melded colors of shadow and light blend together for good,
     That there is still hope for the future and meaning in the present.

I consider how the body ages despite the care one might take.
I ruminate on the “what ifs” of having had more time for a more balanced life.
I contemplate how life is bound to the clock marching forward. 

And yet, I ponder this:     
    That the heart and spirit can be renewed while bones lose density and skin wrinkles.
    That time is both chronos and kairos,
    That we can be lost in moments of joy when time does not beat nor the body decay.

I reflect on unanswered questions, unfilled potential and hearts longing to soar, I contemplate how some still hope while others despair.
I ponder the mystery of faith, those who glimpse that which can’t be seen,
Of those who still seek melody in the midst of a dissonant world.

  And I rejoice as I ponder this:     
      That we can rise as eagles when we rest in the brush strokes of the Artist,
      That there is truth in paradox: we grow in the dark and in dying we live.
      And that those who sing to the celestial Artist harmonize to an eternal beat.

Flowing in Grace

By Nancy Turley

"The clearest evidence that God's grace is at work in our hearts is when we do not get into a panic."  Oswald Chambers

“Learn the unforced rhythms of grace.” Matthew 11:28-30 (The Message)

The word I felt God gave me for 2015 was “Grace.” I love that word. I love the concept. My name, Nancy, means gracious. It’s a trait I am growing into. I wondered if one of the reasons God gave me this word for this year was not only that I needed to grow into it–to be able to give it more–but also, that I might need to receive it. For my birthday my sister Carol gave me a necklace with a swan on it because it was indicative of grace. Part of the description of the swan said that they were graceful. Though that applies to the swan much more than me, I do want to be "grace-full."

Recently a friend replied to a special request for prayer from me that she would listen to the Spirit as she prayed to “simply move to the unforced rhythm of grace.” It came as a hopeful admonition to me as well, as I loved this translation of “Come until me all ye that are heavy laden and I will give you rest…” in Matthew 11. 

This was a new take for me to think of moving in the “rhythm” of grace, and more so, unforced rhythm. One never knows what is around the corner, both good and bad. I wonder how the rhythm of life connects with the unforced rhythm of grace. 

There will be many times where we need to flex, where we need to flow like a river that navigates slow curve bends—those longer stretches of life. We long for answers and movement but do not get immediate replies.

There are other situations where we feel like we are pushed into a narrowing canyon while in a fast current and are suddenly just dropped down a waterfall chute. Where then is that unforced rhythm of grace when we feel we are out of control? How can we flow with the rhythm of life, and yet be in an unforced rhythm of grace?

Perhaps it is like being thrown overboard while canoeing or rafting. We point our feet downward, life jacket snug around our chests, and are navigated around the rocks by hands of grace. Instead of being forced out of control, while we are in the current, grace gently guides us around obstacles. We are buoyed by grace as we flow with the current.

I was actually in that situation once where a friend and I capsized from our canoe as we went through Class III rapids on the Colorado River. I remember being guided by others still in their canoes to go with the current’s flow and put our feet downward. About a half mile later, we moved from the fast moving water to slower water. As we flowed with the current, knowing others watched and guided us, we felt we would be safely rescued.

Perhaps that is how we accept God's grace and allow it to work in our hearts...instead of panicking, we choose to rest during those times we feel so heavy laden. We flow in that unforced rhythm of grace.

Struggling For Perspective

By Nancy Turley

“The surrendered accept that pain is always but growing pains. And growth is always a gift—even when trials are the tutor.”   Ann Voskamp’s blog (A Holy Experience)

“What used to be a hindrance now helps you the most.” Eckhart

Outside my “Reading Room” window is a hummingbird feeder which hangs down next to a six foot high bush. I love to watch the hummers feed and rest on the steps of the feeder. That is until a Rufous appears out of its hiding place and chases them off. I see it perched in the branches of the bush or even from higher branches in our spruce tree out front, ready to pounce, selfishly declaring the feeder its own. It definitely does not play well with others. I ponder why God even created the Rufous. It is just a big bully, exercising its power, intimidating others from what is also fairly theirs.

I’ve had Rufouses in my life in the form of humans, even as an adult. But more and more, it feels like the real bully is the enemy who would steal my peace by the thoughts and lies he instills in my mind. At times I do feel like I have gone two steps forward and one back in my struggles to gain victory over this. Lately, the teasing thoughts that again assail me are of fear as I wonder about the future. My body is “talking” to me more ways than one, as is my husband Steve’s. It’s easy to project into the future with fearful outlook.

I’m near the end of the book, Into the Silent Land by Martin Laird. One chapter specifically focused on how to bring our minds to a place of silence instead of allowing the harassing thoughts to take over while praying. The author talked about the struggle to keep focused as we are taunted with the current circumstantial struggles in our lives. Interestingly as I read, my visual focus was drawn to the actual printed words with the root word of “struggle” on just one page. Without reading word by word and counting, I could make out eleven times it was mentioned! (I realized later it was because the two lower case letter “g’s” hung below the line and caused my eyes to be drawn to it as they are more darkened places on the page.)

During this counting process though, I had a mini Aha! moment when I realized I was literally doing the very thing the author was pointing out. I was focusing on the “struggle” and thus only saw the words with struggle on the page. All of the other print and wisdom on that page were diminished.

When we focus on the struggle and not the bigger picture, we narrow our perspective and can’t see what God is doing.

I know that despite our real-life struggles, God can and will use them for good, despite the “Rufous bully” thoughts of the enemy. In fact, I think because of these bully attacks, we can be strengthened in our “inner woman” to combat the new onslaughts. The fear that once overwhelmed me four years ago led me to a place of courage into a “new land” which has given me much joy.  Those hindrances are like the two sided coin that can morph our weakness into strength.

Much of our individual journeys are indeed from growing pains, but that pain is a gift—it can allow us to see from a different perspective, a bigger perspective, that of the One who can see all. 

What hinders your perspective? How have you dealt with "Rufouses" in your life? How can we see our struggles and pain as gifts?

Thought Trails

By Nancy Turley

“Attentiveness is the heart’s stillness, unbroken by any thought.” Hescychios of Sinai
 
“The 'light of the mind' is a metaphor for the ground of awareness showing something of itself to our perception." ( Into The Silent Land by Martin Laird, p. 68)
 
“My soul, wait in silence for God only, for my hope is from Him.” Psalms 62:5 (NASB)

Along with our friends, Joanna and Bill, my husband Steve and I watched in fascination as the fireworks cascaded up, out and down like an evening candelabra in the sky over Vallecito Lake. We fortuitously parked almost right in back of the launching pad of the fireworks. We agreed afterwards that none of us had been that close to a fireworks display before.

I also experienced a different sensation than ever before, consciously attaching an anthropomorphic personality to individual displays as if they were unique beings. The crowd also reacted similarly, laughing after an elongated firework spun out with an audible sound of a child-like scream. One extended fireworks display cannoning maybe thirty or more red rockets, one after another, left smoke trails which formed a tree with branches and roots.  

My focus was drawn to those trails more than the actual fireworks itself. 

The present inner theme at work within me the past few months is one of awareness as I observe how the commentary of 
my thoughts leaves its own trail of "smoke" in my mind. I've performed my own tail spins several times while screaming like a child (though perhaps not as loudly)! And I have realized that my child within is reacting, not so much due to the reality of the present circumstance, but because she is spinning her own tail (and tale!) on a made up "commentary" about that circumstance...the "what ifs" or the misconstrued analysis of a situation that is not true at all. They are thoughts of the thoughts that have not even happened yet, or smoke trails from the past that have followed me into the present.
   
The song “Windmills of Your Mind” had lyrics distinctly describe that idea of cycling thoughts that tease us at times to a point of hopelessness and confusion. The final three lines are below:
“…Never ending or beginning on an ever spinning reel
 As the images unwind, like the circles that you find in the windmills of your mind!”

Most of us have at times found our thoughts spinning like windmills in our minds (we know “the wheels are churning”).

Using a scriptural lens as an antidote to this churning, we might think that “bringing every thought captive” would curb our angst, and yet, if we are not aware that our thoughts are really commentaries, and not truth or fact, I wonder if we have to go a little deeper.

I'm slowly reading through the book Into the Silent Land by Martin Laird, whose purpose is to give more in depth understanding of contemplative or centering prayer. Part of the beneficial "side effects" of this type of prayer help us navigate our way into this land of silence and gain awareness of our thoughts. We can choose when the distracting thoughts appear, not so much to dismiss or let go of them, but to be with them, without analyzing them, to meet the disrupting assaults with a "gaze of silence."

It's a fine line...to let go or to just be with our thoughts and still not perseverate on them. Perhaps to be with them is similar to the concept of "letting go of the letting go." It’s a skill to counter our thoughts with the kind of prayer that silence can give, and I’ve learned that it is not easy. But this kind of awareness in silence in prayer overlooks its distracting reaction to the screaming child within, and gives her a hug instead. It does not judge her; it gives her grace.

Do you struggle with your thoughts? How can we walk the fine line between being with our thoughts and obsessing about them?