Michelle DeRusha

Every Day Faith. Faith Every Day.

looking for God

Hear It on Sunday, Use It on Monday: When the Holy Spirit Doesn’t Come in Tongues and Fire

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The Holy Spirit first spoke to me in the middle of a church sermon. The irony is that I didn’t believe in God at the time.

You might wonder why I was sitting in a church pew on Sunday morning if I didn’t believe in God. Two reasons. One: I wanted to believe in God, but I didn’t know how to get there. And two (the primary reason): Brad and I had agreed to enroll our son Noah, who was four at the time, in Sunday school. On most Sundays it was simply easier for me to sit in church while Noah was in class, instead of in my car or in the café of the nearby Barnes and Noble. Brad and I took turns each Sunday – one of us brought Noah to Sunday school while the other stayed home with Rowan, who, as a toddler, had a less-than-churchy disposition.

It would have been cool if the Holy Spirit had worked in me that Sunday like he worked in the disciples on Pentecost, when he arrived at the gathering “like the roaring of a mighty windstorm,” settling onto the disciples in “flames and tongues of fire.” (Acts 2:2-3). Frankly, that sort of dramatic display, though terrifying, would have convinced me of the presence of God in a New York minute.

But that’s not the way the Holy Spirit worked in me. In fact, I didn’t even realize it had been the Holy Spirit at work until more than two years later, when I looked back at that Sunday and thought, “Huh … would you look at that.”

What happened that morning in church was that Pastor Greg preached a sermon called “Just Walk across the Room.” It was a message about evangelizing – a call to the congregation to reach out and invite what he called “unchurched” friends, relatives, neighbors and acquaintances to experience God.

The irony, of course, is that while I was sitting in an actual pew in an actual church, I was as unchurched and faithless as any unbeliever on the street.

After I got home from church that morning, I walked immediately downstairs to our basement office, sat at the computer and typed a vague email to Pastor Greg. I simply told him that the morning’s sermon had grabbed my attention, and that perhaps I should stop by his office to talk sometime. The following week I met Pastor Greg in his office and we talked. I admitted to him that I didn’t think I believed in God, but that I wanted to and didn’t know how.

“I believe that God’s with you, that the Holy Spirit is in you, working in you, and has brought you here today,” Pastor Greg had answered that day, looking me straight in the eye as I squirmed in my chair. “And I believe that’s evidence that you’re not as far lost as you think you are.”

I’d like to tell you that when I heard those words, I broke into a rousing chorus of Alleluias and heard the voice of God thunder through the roof of the church.

But the truth is, nothing happened.

While I was relieved to have finally unburdened myself, I also frankly thought Pastor Greg was full of baloney. I simply didn’t believe him. I didn’t even know how to respond to his confident declaration, so I nodded a lot, muttered something along the lines of, “Wow, that’s great, good news, thank you.” And then I drove to the mall and bought a pair of sandals.

But as it turned out, Pastor Greg was right. The Holy Spirit was at work in me. Not in a roaring wind or in tongues of fire. Not in a way that was obvious to me at the time. But working indeed. It just took me another two years to recognize it.

Has the Holy Spirit ever worked in unexpected ways in you? Think back over your life for a minute. Can you think of an experience you’ve always brushed off that might, in fact, be the result of the Holy Spirit’s work?

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Welcome to the “Hear It on Sunday, Use It on Monday” community, a place where we share what we are hearing from God and his Word.

If you’re here for the first time, click here for more information. Please include the Hear It, Use It button (grab the code below) or a link in your post, so your readers know where to find the community if they want to join in — thank you!

Please also try to visit and leave some friendly encouragement in the comment box of at least one other Hear It, Use It participant. And if you want to tweet about the community, please use the #HearItUseIt hashtag.

Thank you — I am so grateful that you are here!

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Blogging Benedict: Listening with the Ear of Your Heart

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Fifteen centuries ago a young man abandoned his scholarly studies in Rome and ventured into the Italian countryside, where he founded a monastic community and wrote what he called “a little rule” to help his fellow monks live a spiritual life in community.

That man was Benedict, better known as the founder of the Benedictines, a Roman Catholic order that still thrives today.

“So how does this apply to me?” you might be thinking. “I’m not a monk, and I’m not Catholic. I don’t need The Rule.”

Not true. Although Benedict’s Rule was written for monks, his advice covers much of what encompasses our everyday, right here in the 21st century: worship, prayer, work, study, relationships, our use of time, community and hospitality. Benedict’s Rule is more useful to us now than ever.

Benedict begins the Prologue to The Rule with these opening words:

“Listen carefully, my son, to the master’s instructions, and attend to them with the ear of your heart.”

Concrete person that I am, listening with the “ear of my heart” doesn’t make much sense. At first. But the more I read about Benedict, and the more I practice quiet, focused listening, the more I understand that looking for God in all things, in the ordinary circumstances of my life is possible.

As Jane Tomaine, author of St. Benedict’s Toolbox: The Nuts and Bolts of Everyday Benedictine Living, writes, “God is before us and within us, waiting to be found. The challenge is that every day we have so many things to do, and the crush of work can leave us hurrying through one task to move onto the next. But is it possible instead to do our work on one level, yet reflect with our mind and heart on where God is in the task? Can we allow the task before us to reveal itself as an opportunity to find God?”

Tomaine gives her readers a number of ways to practice this discipline, this listening with the ear of your heart.

1. Keep a gratitude journal. Take a few moments to reflect on your day, the small instances in which you felt the presence of God in your life. You can even join an online community, like Ann Voskamp’s 1,000 Gifts community every Monday, when she lists a continuing stream of 1,000 gifts and encourages others to do the same.

2. Notice the metaphorical breadcrumbs God leaves us to follow. Look back over your life, suggests Tomaine, to uncover the threads that led you to where you are today. Sometimes our God vision is 20/20 in hindsight. Such is the case for me and my move from Massachusetts to Nebraska. In retrospect, I see now that God threw the entire loaf of honey whole grain in my path, not merely the breadcrumbs. But it took several years for me to realize that this period of upheaval was actually the direct work of God in my life.

3. Take a thankfulness walk. This is perhaps better accomplished when the weather warms up, but the point is to walk slowly through nature, focusing on your senses – the chickadee chirping in the white pine…the scarlet berries dangling on delicate branches – and giving thanks for the hand of God in all things.

Like any spiritual discipline, listening and watching for God in the everyday takes practice. I’ll be honest, some days spin by so rapidly that I don’t notice him at all. But I continue to practice, and little by little the extraordinary shines through the ordinary.

“Incline your ear and come to me; listen, so that you may live.” (Isaiah 55:3)

How do you listen for God in your life? How do you “incline your ear” or listen with the “ear of your heart?” Add your ideas in the comments to suggest practices others might try.

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I’ve recently revisited a series I wrote three years ago called Blogging Benedict, and I’ve decided to run some of these posts on Fridays through Lent. They are based on the book by Jane Tomaine called  St. Benedict’s Toolbox: The Nuts and Bolts of Everyday Living, which I am re-reading this Lent.

Next Friday: Blogging Benedict: Lectio Divina.

Missional Women

Hear It on Sunday, Use It on Monday: Glorious to See

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“So, sometimes I get a really strong but quick feeling of happiness,” he says. “Like the other day, when I watched the wind blowing the cedar boughs. I felt a burst of happy feeling. What is that? Why does that happen?”

We are snuggled on the couch, sharing a fleece blanket, our books open on our laps.

“Well, when that happens to me, I tend to think it’s God,” I say, nudging my glasses down on my nose so I can look at Noah over the frames. “You know, God is with us all the time, but I think sometimes he makes himself extra noticeable, sort of as a way to tell us to pay attention. I think those happy moments that come out of nowhere are God.”

Our conversation reminds me of an experience I had about a year ago, just after my father-in-law was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer. It was the Christmas season, but I was so angry, bitter and sad, my heart was hardened against joy. All I felt during those dark days was the weight of grief.

One night, as I stood at the kitchen sink with an apron around my waist and a stack of dirty dishes on the counter and my arms elbow-deep in soapy water, I felt an inexplicable flash of joy. And I knew instantly it was God, making his presence known to me, assuring me that despite the darkness, despite the fact that we were walking in the shadow of death, we would be okay. We would laugh and celebrate and find joy again.

Such was the case with Peter, John and James when they hiked with Jesus up the mountain to pray. I imagine the mood that day was somber. Just days before, Jesus had told his disciples that he would suffer, be killed and be raised from the dead — news that must have been terrifying and confusing for them. I suspect they were bewildered, unsure of themselves and afraid, perhaps even wavering in their faith or questioning their decision to follow Jesus. I imagine that hike up the mountain was a quiet one, as each man contemplated Jesus’ dire prediction, dread and fear creeping into the pits of their stomachs. Perhaps they, too, felt like they were journeying into the shadow of death.

At the top of the mountain Peter, John and James inexplicably fell asleep while Jesus prayed and as “the appearance of his face was transformed, and his clothes became dazzling white.” (Luke 9:29) Moses and Elijah appeared and spoke with Jesus, and “they were glorious to see.” (9:31). When the disciples awoke, they were shocked to see “Jesus’ glory,” with Moses and Elijah standing next to him. Amazed, the three disciples scrambled to process the unbelievable sight.

Jesus understood that his disciples needed to be shaken awake. He understood that they needed to stop, stand still and take notice. And just as Jesus knew his beloved disciples needed a jolt of joy and reassurance, he knows when we, too, need to be awakened to his constant presence.

We don’t always experience God’s presence in such a dramatic way, in the magnitude of a transfiguration or in the midst of dark grief. Sometimes God shows himself on an ordinary day, in a seemingly ordinary way. Like in the hallowed hush of wind through cedar boughs.

Can you think of a time when God stopped you in your tracks and made his presence known? How can you make a practice of catching more of these moments?

Linking with Ann Voskamp and her Wednesday series on the Practice of Radical…because seeing God on an ordinary day, in a seemingly ordinary way, is radical indeed:





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Welcome to the “Hear It on Sunday, Use It on Monday” community, a place where we share what we are hearing from God and his Word.

If you’re here for the first time, click here for more information. Please include the Hear It, Use It button (grab the code below) or a link in your post, so your readers know where to find the community if they want to join in — thank you!

Please also try to visit and leave some friendly encouragement in the comment box of at least one other Hear It, Use It participant. And if you want to tweet about the community, please use the #HearItUseIt hashtag.

Thank you — I am so grateful that you are here!

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Hear It on Sunday, Use It on Monday: Where to Look for God

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When I was a little kid I thought the tabernacle was actually God’s house.

The tabernacle at our church was ornate and glittery-gold, and it sat on its own mini-altar off to the side of the main altar under a glowing red lamp. I assumed God lived in that fancy box as a small, but no less intimidating version of himself, and I thought the red lamp was his nightlight.

A thick curtain was draped just behind the tabernacle’s gold door, and the priest would gently push this aside, reach his robed arm into the mysterious space and pull out the chalice of Eucharist as we watched from the pews in hushed, reverent silence. I always strained from my place in the pew during this solemn ritual, craning to catch a glimpse of God, who I knew was seated on his miniature bejeweled throne behind the curtain. And I was always frustrated and disappointed that I could never quite see far enough into that secret, holy place.

I was always disappointed that I couldn’t see God.

Solomon, it seems to me, got it right, when he said this in the verses we read this week from 1 Kings 8:27-30:

“But will God really live on earth? Why, even the highest heavens cannot contain you. How much less this Temple I have built!” (1 Kings 8:27, NLT)

On one hand, Solomon is flabbergasted, amazed: how can God, the Alpha and Omega, omniscient, omnipotent, awesome God, actually live on earth, down here with us, amongst we flawed and sinful people? How can that possibly be?

On the other hand, Solomon knows that even the most elaborate, elegant temple, one built specifically to honor and worship him, cannot possibly contain a God whom even the heavens cannot contain.

Just like I mistakenly assumed that God lived inside the tabernacle of my childhood church, I still, as an adult, find myself trying to contain God in a particular place or define him in a particular way today. I try to squeeze him into a box, enclose him within boundaries that make sense in my own small mind. I try to limit a limitless God, in part because his power, his infinite love and grace and his all-encompassing, indefinable nature overwhelm me.

Solomon knew the truth, which is that God is in every place and in every person. Not just inside the tabernacle or within the walls of the church. Not just in the minister and the missionary. Not just in the faithful and the devout.

God can’t be contained in a particular place or a particular person. His temple is our church, yes. But it’s also our kitchens, our workplaces, our backyards and our very own bodies and hearts.

Every space is holy. And in his eyes, every person is holy, too.

Do you sometimes look for God in the expected places, like in church, and neglect to see him in your ordinary everyday surroundings? How do you train your eyes to look for God in your everyday?

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Welcome to the “Hear It on Sunday, Use It on Monday” community, a place where we share what we are hearing from God and his Word.

If you’re here for the first time, click here for more information. Please include the Hear It, Use It button (grab the code below) or a link in your post, so your readers know where to find the community if they want to join in — thank you!

Please also try to visit and leave some friendly encouragement in the comment box of at least one other Hear It, Use It participant. And if you want to tweet about the community, please use the #HearItUseIt hashtag.

Thank you — I am so grateful that you are here!

 


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