The Neglected Spiritual Practice

Why do we so often forget the importance and power of celebration?

I was a typical new mom, meticulously recording milestones, photographing every possible facial expression and pose, and religiously recording it all in a scrapbook for my bouncing baby boy. That, of course, was baby number one.

Now I glance with guilt at my poor, neglected baby number three. Okay, she’s not actually neglected, but in the scrapbook arena all that exists so far is a literal scrap of paper on which I’ve hurriedly scrawled her weight and length from her first four doctors appointments. Yup, that’s it. I’ve let life’s busyness and demands completely shove aside any time for baby-booking.

I share this example because I think it reflects what many of us do in our spiritual lives. We zoom through each day without taking any time to celebrate—to take notice, to give thanks, and to rejoice in what God has done. We know we should, but it just always seems so . . . well, so less-important than all the other to-dos. In the family of spiritual disciplines, celebration is the ignored and overlooked younger sister, often hidden behind the looming shadow of the truly “essential” disciplines like prayer and Bible study.

Laughing, smiling, enjoying time with friends—these can seem so trivial and even unspiritual. But in fact, living a celebratory life significantly reflects the joy and contentment we have in Christ. In terms of being a spiritual discipline, celebration is more than just having a party or feeling upbeat all the time. I see it as a companion discipline to worship. In my book The Busy Mom’s Guide to Spiritual Survival, I define celebration this way: “In worship, we focus on and declare eternal, unchanging truths about who God is. . . . Though closely tied to worship, the discipline of celebration is when we focus on and delight in what God does.”

Sometimes celebration comes naturally for us—we rejoice with hugs and high fives or even tearful prayers when a baby is born, a child graduates, or a friend finds healing from illness. But at other times celebration requires attention and effort: when we are disheartened or hurting or tired, we can still choose to take notice and give thanks to God for his blessings. In this sense, celebration is the undercurrent of abundant joy that flows through a believer’s life, even during terribly dark times. “Celebration,” sums up Richard Foster, “is at the heart of the way of Christ.”

Do you neglect the spiritual practice of celebration? If so, why? What impact can a lack of celebration have on a person’s spiritual life? What is God prompting you to celebrate today? Share your gratitude and joy with us.

The Challenge of Hope

Grasping the understanding that our anticipation really is in Christ.

Hope can be a scary thing. As a 20something, it’s never been anything but exciting—hope represents the best of what life might be. I have lots of hopes. Some of them are tiny and insignificant: hope for sunshine on my day off, hope that the movie I just sat down for will be good. Some of them are huge and life-defining: hope for a fulfilling job, hope for a family.

At a point where most of the big things still stretch out before me, this is a good thing. But I’m learning it’s also a scary thing. Because sometimes hopes are disappointed—in fact, devastated. Sometimes God doesn’t give us the things we want. What does this mean about God? Doesn’t he want good things for me? Is hope just about looking toward heaven? Do I have to accept that the good things I want might not happen in this life?

When something is new and exciting, it’s so difficult not to put my hope in it. As much as I may tell myself that I’m putting my hope in Christ, and isn’t it nice that he seems to be giving me this relationship or outcome or whatever it is that I want, at the moment it seems like he might be taking it away I get angry. I lash out. I ask him why he would do this to me, give me these hopes and then mercilessly yank them out from under me. Why would he be so cruel, I ask.

God and I were having this all-too-familiar conversation one Sunday not long ago when a lyric in a song caught my attention: “my hope is in you.” It’s a common lyric, actually, and it’s in at least three worship songs I can quickly think of. It was this phrase that lodged itself into my brain and for the next week I was obsessed with the idea of putting my hope in Christ. Sure, it’s something I’d say I do. Or at least I know I’m supposed to. But what does that really look like? What does it look like to put my tangible hopes into a spiritual being? Do the things I want even matter?
Over the course of that week, I wrestled with these questions. I gathered every song I could find with the word hope in it, looking to get to the bottom of what it meant. I started reading multiple books I thought might be helpful. I spent intense time with God, and even more time talking to other Christians about what he was showing me, and asking for their wisdom on this increasingly complex idea of hope.

“My hope is in you” turned over and over in my mind, and even though I still could not articulate exactly what it looked like in my life, I could sense that I was fumbling in the dark toward something beautiful, a light that my heart recognized as truth. It seemed enough to keep repeating the phrase, trusting that in time it would become true of me and I’d understand what, exactly, it meant.

And then the next week at church we sang a song (“Land of the Living” by Enter the Worship Circle) that perfectly put into words what my heart had known. After describing the joy of gazing at God’s beauty with our eyes and worshiping him with our lips, it says:

My heart will be dancing when it knows that you are with me And I will see your goodness in the land of the living.

God does want good things for my life here on earth! Certainly hope points me toward heaven, where all my pain and brokenness will be restored, but right here, in my present, God wants to point me to the goodness that is even better and more fulfilling than the things I think will satisfy me. He wants to point me to himself.

To have hope in Christ is never to be disappointed—his beauty, his presence, his goodness are unchanging and eternal. When I focus my energy on seeking and praising him, there is no chance of disappointment. This happens in the act of worship, when I turn my eyes and lips and heart to building a relationship with him. How freeing!

Not that I have it all figured out. I’m still learning what it means to be excited and hopeful about what will happen in my future while submitting that to a hope in Christ’s being and presence. It’s going to take a lifetime to figure it out.

So what does it mean to you to put your hope in Christ? How do you balance pursuing a life on earth that is inevitably shaped by relationships and outcomes with seeking God’s goodness?

Are We Getting Worship Wrong?

And how can we get it at least a little bit right?

One church I attended for a few years was really, really into the song, “The Heart of Worship” by Matt Redman. Don’t get me wrong—I think it’s a fantastic song. But it began to bother me when we seemed to sing it nearly every Sunday. The song’s lyrics candidly and confessionally speak about how we humans can so easily get worship wrong: it can inadvertently become something about us rather than being focused on God.

Week after week all the congregants in my little church passionately sang about worship, saying, “I’m sorry, Lord, for the thing I’ve made it.” There were definitely times when singing these lyrics was an honest confession for me; I do struggle sometimes with turning times of corporate worship into self-focused experiences. But singing “I’m sorry” week in and week out rubbed me the wrong way. Are we really getting worship “wrong” all the time? I wondered. Do we really need to keep apologizing over and over? Aren’t we getting it at least a little bit right?

Worship, after all, is much more than just the time of singing or praying during a church service. It’s got much more to do with the attitude of our hearts, the God-honoring practices in our daily lives, and our responses to the circumstances that surround us than it does with how passionately or how properly we sing on Sunday mornings. Worshiping God through music can certainly be one of the most powerful ways to express our awe and love for God, but at its core, worship is meant to be expressed in all aspects of our lives. And I don’t think this worshipful way of living comes easily—it’s a lifelong process in which we each must put regular effort into choosing to worship, into cultivating worshipful practices and attitudes, and into communing with God throughout each day, rather than focusing all our thoughts and energies into other things.

So in some ways, worship is something that we can easily get wrong—when we boil it down just to music or just to times of “feeling good” about God, for example. But in other ways, worship is something we can definitely get right—when we love our neighbor, when we strive for God-honoring excellence at work, when we choose to affirm our faith in God’s promises even when we’re in pain or afraid.

What does worship mean in your life? How do you cultivate a worshipful heart? In what ways—other than singing—do you enjoy expressing worship for God? How has worship transformed you?

Praying Grandparents

Stand in the gap for the next generation.

This past summer, I had the privilege of watching two of my grandchildren for a week. Anticipating that time, I felt much fear and trembling. Did I have enough energy to keep up with two preschool kids? Would they obey me or be wildly out of control? Would they miss their parents so much that they’d be miserable? All of these were valid concerns, but I garnered much prayer support for the week and my fears disintegrated. Other than my energy being taxed, it was a fabulous week.

But that week also put me in touch with all the temptations and pulls my grandkids already feel at their tender ages. It reminded me of the first time we took our young daughter into ocean waves. She was happily enjoying the way she bobbed in the water in her father’s arms—until a huge wave made my husband lose his balance, toppling them both into the suction as it pulled them under. I was shocked at how quickly the wave sucked them down and out. My husband struggled against the tide as it pulled them out to sea, finally regaining his footing and swimming with our daughter back to shore. Our poor little girl came up sputtering and spitting salt water. Her terror that even her strong father couldn’t get her above the waves rattled her faith for a while and she avoided everything but the shallowest water the rest of the time at the seashore.

Watching our grandkids grow up is a lot like watching a tide pull them out to sea and hoping they’re strong enough to swim their way back to shore. When fear for them overtakes us, we lay them at Jesus’ feet, trusting him to do what we cannot and keep them close to his heart and his ways.

The Christian Grandparenting Network is issuing a call to grandparents to do just that. They’re hoping grandparents will gather in churches and communities on September 11, 2011, to pray for the children of our world, our families, and our country’s leaders.

“These are desperate and uncertain times for all, but especially for our grandchildren,” says Cavin Harper, Executive Director of CGN. “With Grandparent’s Day falling on Sunday, September 11 this year, the tenth anniversary of 9/11, we felt prompted to turn this day of tragedy into a compelling opportunity for grandparents to stand in the gap on behalf of the next generations. It is our grandchildren who must navigate a world that is increasingly hostile toward Christianity and God’s truth. It is time for our generation—today’s grandparents—to step to the plate and determine that we will do all we can not to let a whole generation perish on our watch!”

Lillian Penner, National Prayer Coordinator for CGN and author of Grandparenting with a Purpose, is the catalyst behind this movement to call grandparents to prayer. Penner has been encouraging grandparents across the country to form G@P groups (Grandparents @ Prayer) since 2009. “Our grandchildren return to school this fall,” she says, “so let’s make this a time of intentional prayer for them. September 11, Grandparent’s Day of Prayer will be powerful as grandparents stand in the gap for their grandchildren like Esther stood in the gap for her people when their lives were threatened. Let’s be their prayer warriors.”

Guidelines and resources are available online at www.christiangrandparenting.net. Information can also be obtained by calling 719-522-1404 or sending an e-mail to info@christiangrandparenting.net.

Isaiah 41:10 says, “Don’t be afraid, for I am with you. Don’t be discouraged, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you. I will hold you up with my victorious right hand.”

What better hand to cling to when we feel the waves sloshing over our grandchildren’s heads.

The Neglected Spiritual Practice

The Challenge of Hope

Are We Getting Worship Wrong?

Praying Grandparents