Posted on by Daisy Joan

Divine Collaboration

It’s hard to imagine isn’t it?  Divine collaboration.  Sounds like something out of a cerebral mythology thesis.  At least it does to me.  Yet, those are the words that keep coming to mind.  

“Daddy,” I asked. “What do you want from me? What do you want from Your Church?”

With a wink and a contagious grin the size of galaxies colliding, he replied, “I want Divine Collaboration.”  

This is an honorific to Him, I can tell.  It’s a title he likes to pin on all His kids.  We are all his Divine Collaborators. And I could tell He was thrilled that he’d gotten my attention.

Perplexed and definitely curious, I said, “Please explain.”

I am a philosopher and processing with God is something I like to savor.  I want to stew and chew and taste every scoop of insight the Lord ever gives me.  I feel delightfully compelled to savor and digest the nuanced flavor profile of God’s interactions, not just with me, but with his Body and with his Creation. I’ve learned a lot eating at the Lord’s table with Him.  We talk.  A lot.

The other day I was talking to a friend about this tattoo idea I had and all of a sudden I heard myself say, “It’s kind of like this ‘divine collaboration’ between God and me.”  It just made sense to me to say it that way.

I had to smile. There it was again. 

My husband and I took a road trip last month to celebrate our anniversary.  We drove along part of the iconic Route 66 through Oklahoma, New Mexico, and Arizona all the way to the Grand Canyon.  As we drove through high desert devoid of much life and saw rock formations that put modern architecture to shame, I heard it again: divine collaboration.

At the Petrified Forrest National Park.

The land spoke to me as I marveled at the spectacles and grandeur created where infinite pale sky meets striated rocks in various stages of petrification and erosion.  I felt the profundity of time’s endlessness: infinitely changing and staying the same all at once.  I had never felt closer to my Father God, the Creator of All Things than I did in those moments of experiencing his Creation.  His words were clear: this is divine collaboration.  

As I experienced the beauty of God’s world in all its intricacy I began to pray for the people who lived there, and I felt the land speak to my heart about them: these people that God loved so dearly and who had been so horribly abused by the “progress” of European settlers.  I wept and prayed and wept and prayed.  I fell in love with those impoverished and yet resilient indigenous people who continued to hold on through the worst types of adversity.  Serious divine collaboration.

 It’s so much more than just a “good conversation” with Jesus.

1So if there is any encouragement in Christ, any comfort from love, any participation in the Spirit, any affection and sympathy, 2complete my joy by being of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. 3Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. 4Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. 5Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus,a 6who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped,b 7but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant,c being born in the likeness of men. 8And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. 9Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, 10so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, 11and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. Philippians 2:1-11 ESV

Even Jesus didn’t consider equality with God something to be grasped, but he accepted it anyway and obediently emptied himself from fear and doubt and the entitlement of his status, and trusted that His Father in Heaven had his back and they were a team, even if it didn’t feel like it sometimes. 

Jesus humbled himself to the point of death on a cross because He trusted God.

1Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children. 2And walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God. Ephesians 5:1

How can we possibly be like Jesus? Jesus divinely collaborated with the God of the Universe, while considering equality with God something beyond his grasp, and obediently and humbly received and obeyed, even in angst, even in hunger, even in torment, even in fear.  He conquered because he humbled himself and obeyed in perfect unity with God.

Even though obedience made him look like a slave.

So maybe trusting God in obedience isn’t slavery, even if it might look like it is?  Maybe obedience is actually divine collaboration.  Maybe choosing to humble oneself, one can find exaltation in the Living God and be empowered in His Righteousness to be joint heirs with Christ.

14For all who are led by the Spirit of God are sonsf of God. 15For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, “Abba! Father!” 16The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, 17and if children, then heirs—heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him. Romans 8:14-17 ESV

Divine collaboration: to trust that even obedience unto death will gain eternal reward and glory for God AND you.

It can be unimaginably painful, I’m not going to sugar coat it.  Yet, I know that suffering pays beautiful dividends for those who are willing to learn and grow from it.  Empathy, courage, salvation. It all come from suffering.  Death and suffering are not the end for those who are in Christ Jesus.  We know, because of Christ’s example of trust and faith, that God will be faithful to us as well.  

God doesn’t want mindless robots.  He’s not going to force you to do anything.  He asks.  He always asks, because he loves you.  He offers this divine collaboration to anyone who would accept it.  If you can get over yourself long enough to believe that it might actually be better with God than without, to accept for even just a moment that God is in fact good and trustworthy, you too can have this beautiful title of “Divine Collaborator”.

Divine collaboration means trusting God, submitting to God, and then freely talking to God without fear of condemnation. 

Daddy didn’t get angry with Jesus when he questioned Him in Gethsemane.  He listened.  He comforted.  He strengthened.  And Jesus endured to the end.  He trusted the Father, and on the third day was resurrected from the dead.

Jesus obeyed God and was raised up in Glory.

We have seen the truth of who God is in the flesh of Jesus Christ, and we believe in our hearts through faith, that God raised him from the dead and he will one day do the same for us.  We are saved from death into life and from orphan to first born son. God wants us to be his friends.  He wants unity in love.  Unity in love means divine collaboration. It means trusting that the source of love and life is from God and endowed to his children with generosity.

Divine collaboration isn’t passive.  It isn’t selfish.  It isn’t arrogant.  To walk in Divine collaboration with God is to actively believe in the reality of your shameless and righteous status as a child of God and fearlessly “approach the throne of grace with confidence” (Heb 4:16) not just to receive forgiveness of sins, but to be lifted up into glory with God himself and receive wisdom and comfort from Him for eternity.  It’s a mutually beneficial relationship.  

Refuse to be silent receivers of God’s mercy and love.  Choose instead to be Divine Collaborators.  Let’s use the tools we have been given, infused with the Holy Spirit and the many gifts He has provided us, and share our thoughts and ideas with Jesus with confidence. Realize that He’s already decided to “use the foolish things to confound the wise” (1 Cor 1:27) so we can stop worrying about if God really wants to hear from us or not. Trust me, he does.  No, we’re not worthy of it on our own, but we’re not our own if we’ve given ourselves to Jesus.  

For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God. 2 Corinthians 5:21 ESV

Divine Collaboration with one another is equally valuable.  God’s obedient and loving children are a collective force.

We are stronger together as Christ’s body here on Earth. Know that we are all one with Our Father in Heaven by His Spirit.  We should be unified as His image bearers and as walking tabernacles of His Presence.

Let us each humble ourselves and be divine collaborators together with our Lord.

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Posted on by Daisy Joan · 2 Comments

Parts

Part of me broken,
Part of me strong.
Part of me Holy,
And part of me wrong.

Part of me trying
Part of me dying.
Part of me full and satisfied 
And masterful at lying.

I sing at the top 
Of my lungs, till I’m breathless
I scream at my mountains 
Unmoved and relentless.

A part of me astonished.
A part of me coy.
A part of me girl.
A part of me boy.

Growth spurts and progress
Grow quickly to death.
Grow countless the questions
Growth holding my breath.

Part of me captured.
Part of me lost.
Part of me feeling 
The freedom and cost.

Part of me searching
Part of me screeching.
Part of me soothing.
Part of me teaching.

Each part of me 
Part of me.
Each part of me,
Me.

Each part of me longing,
Each part of me yearning,
Each part of me hoping
And reaching and turning.

For food and for pleasure, 
For shelter and shame.
For crying out loud
My life’s not a game.

Hold tight these horses.
Hold tight these reins.
Hold tight to the promise 
Inscribed in my veins.

A part of me hides
In a cocoon of my fears
Alien abductions
Better than tears.

Tears that feel hollow
Tears that believe
That tears will wash clean
Tears never relieved. 

And it’s more than just tears
And curses in mire.
It’s trauma and cruelty
To reap the desire.


A part of me inanimate,
A plaything for others.
Used and abused
By sisters and brothers.

My family not safe.
My friends not safe.
My church not safe.
Nothing is safe.  I’m not safe.

A part of me furious,
Righteous, emboldened.
A part of me ruthless,
Undaunted, reloaded.

A part of me fishes
For compliments and wishes.
A part of me searches
For validation in mission.

A part of me humble.
A part of me dazed.
A part of me triumphant.
A part of me crazed,

Part of me subtle.
Part of me loud.
Part of me gentle.
Part of me proud.

Part bitch,
Part heretic,
Part symphony,
Part rhetoric.

My parts are calling, 
Consuming, undone.
My parts that are screaming
Eternal,“Be one!”

Be healed and broken.
Unsafe and undone.
Be wounded, be sinful.
Be righteous and won.

Disingenuous apart
Transfigured in art.
My soul is a litany of parts
Torn apart.

My parts that rhyme, that paint, that speak, 
These parts that are petty, or selfish, or weak,
Or these parts that scream courage 
In the face of defeat.

Part of me broken and hiding, alone.
A part frightened and worried and scarred to the bone.
Part silent, part patient,
Part powerful, unknown.

Part cripple, part mime,
Part incidental divine,
Parts mute and unknown.
Parts walking the line.

Parts feel lonely 
Others feel brave.
Parts feel victimized,
And others forgave.

I call for a conclave
An assembly of minds
Each different but unified
In purpose enshrined.

Each part will be heard.
Each part will be seen.
Each part has a story
A place and a dream.

No parts will be lost
To time or depression.
No parts will be stolen
By cruel indiscretion.

No parts will be banished.
No parts we’ll appraise.
Each part will be honored
And asked to engage.

Hard conversations
Will have space to decide
How best to handle 
The healing inside.

Each part has a story, 
A place and a voice.
Even parts with no words 
Will still get a choice.

Every word will be addressed.
Every part will be heard.
Every wound will be recognized
Bandaged and cured.

I hear you, I see you, 
I know you are mine.
Every part on the inside 
That scrambled and whined.

I praise you, great warrior parts.
And parts so grotesque,
I would recoil and shudder
And hold in regret.

I know now that each part
The good parts and bad,
The ugly and beautiful,
The celebrated, the sad.

Each part is worthy
Of love and respect.
Each part is part of me,
My part to detect and connect.

My parts will find unity
Despite the denial, 
The fear and the shame,
And parts undelivered in trial.

Be you manager 
Or exile or fighter prepare
To feel the elation 
Of flight in the air.

I offer you now,
This transformative treatise
through poetry mused:
I lean on the hope of completeness.

Unity, my darlings
In the Lord and in life.
Unity, my loves
In hardship and strife.

Together we have
All the tools that are needed
The Lord has provided 
The enemy defeated.

And I am committed 
To continue this journey,
Whether we stand or we fall,
It will not deter me.

We will all fall together
And stand up again.
Together united.
Together a friend.

It doesn’t have to be weird
It doesn’t have to make sense.
It’s just acknowledging our needs
And letting go of defense.

United together 
When we face any trial
Or victory or insight 
Or blessed denial.

We won’t hold it against us.
We’ll notice without judgment.
Because self awareness is beautiful
Not repugnant.

That shame that you’re feeling
That worry, that guilt?
It’s a lie, you can trust me,
I’ve seen what it built.

I know we’re not perfect.
And that’s nothing to fear.
I’ll recognize and comfort
Those parts, they are dear.

You heard me.
I love every part that has spoken.
I love the liars, the outcasts, 
The bended, the broken.

I love you and love you 
And love you again
Because you are made in His image
And will be again.

You will be made new 
Transformed and revisited.
Every great scar
Like Christ be uninhibited.

You will dance naked, unashamed
In the Garden again.
Because Jesus has made us 
And calls us His friend.

A video of me reading this poem can be found here.

Posted on by Daisy Joan

My Wellness Matters to God

When I was growing up, my mother insisted that we do chores after we had watched our favorite Saturday morning cartoons.  We cleaned our bathroom and bedrooms from top to bottom, changed the sheets on our beds, folded and put away our laundry, dusted and vacuumed and did yard work. Only when we were finished were we allowed to play.

I carried this habit into adulthood.  And when I got married and had my first apartment, I kept an immaculate house.  Then I had kids.  Life’s priorities change when you have kids. The word “immaculate” fell out of favor and was exchanged with phrases like “lived in” and “it’s fine”.  Kids.  They’re great.  Really.  And I taught them how to clean just like my mother did.

For a time, my kids were a huge help.  They cleaned their own bathrooms and bedrooms.  They helped with the dishes and laundry.  Then one day they grew up and moved out and  I realized how many of the chores I used to do on a regular basis had fallen by the wayside or been absorbed into the “lived in” and the “it’s fine” category, with no kids left at home to even help out with the basics.

I also suffer from chronic health conditions and debilitating arthritis. Over the years I had learned to really depend on my kids and my husband to help me, and I’ve also settled for a lot less than I had when I was younger.

It made me sad.  I saw how my parent’s house deteriorated as they aged.  The kitchen sink was always clean, but dust and clutter multiplied quickly with no one able to keep it all in check. I don’t want that to happen to me.  

I took it to the Lord, and I laid my pride at His feet.  (Funny how I can lay everything down at His feet, but can’t seem to lay even the smallest burden down to ask a friend to help!)  His answer was simple: Your desire for a clean house matters to Me because you matter to Me. 

My wellness has value to God.  

Cleanliness for me became a symbol of wellness, and my pride had kept me from that wellness.  I blamed my fading cleanliness on kids growing up and my disability. Only when I took it to the Lord in humility and acknowledged my pride did I see the Lord’s heart for me.  I didn’t want to ask for help?  I didn’t want to pay for house cleaning?  Because of pride?  

Do I boast in myself or do I boast in Christ?  My wellness matters to God.  He has seen the desire of my heart.  He has heard my plea for help.  He showed me grace for my pride and my stubbornness.  And he’s blessed me with the finances to hire some help.

Since January of this year a crew from Totally Clean ICT has come regularly to clean my house.  They are a locally owned company, run by two Latina women.  I get to bless them with my business and they get to give me back my clean house.  That’s a win win in my book.  

Because wellness has value to God.  Thank you, Lord, for always providing for my needs.

And my God will meet all your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:19

Posted on by Daisy Joan · 2 Comments

Compressed Consolation Prize

In the shade, horse lips, slobbery tongue
Wet, insistent partnership
Hidden in pockets filled with treats
Crunchy kibble, bite size chunks–apple flavored.

Broken knees walk tilted steps for
Soft velvet muzzle kisses
Require persistent apple flavored treat
Refined little nuggets so nutrient rich.

Consolation prize, the real prize,
The prize fight where bloodied broken lips nuzzle
For treats but won’t let you close
Without nutritious apple snacks

Compressed into consolation prizes
Not worth fighting for
Broken compressed nothing until one taste
Sweet consolation prize.

No perfect knees
Gone adolescent exuberance compressed into
Bite size tasty treats
Full of insight, treasure trove of consolation prizes.

Compressed caesura, transcendent requiem
Clarity unaltered by self-righteous indignation,
Or sharp and critical loathing disguised as wit.
Sharp as cataclysmic disregard and invalidation.

Presumptive triumph compressed
Into juicy little broken bits
Of delicious apply flavored kibble
Not fit for human consumption.

Ever onward unstable legs!
Forward Ho! Broken bones and curious scars.
Preemptive strike in
Bright white light that shines in the darkness and cannot be overcome.

Courageous strength submits to Truth;
Submits to life and powerlessness.
Acceptance amidst fear and pain and more of the same.
Love breathed Life, presumed consolation prize.

Persistent partnership, with death defeated
And the darkness exposed for all to see.
No need to rehash every crunchy delicious apple flavored tidbit.
More than growth has been given to me

For I have seen the invisible,
Delicious apocalyptic revelation
Choreographed by the Creator of the Universe
So that the Darkness that battled to define me no longer has a say.

Immovable Rock, Source of abundant life.
His life for mine will never count as wasted consolation prize.

 

 

 

Posted on by Daisy Joan

Hold Me

On that day, when evening had come, he said to them, “Let us go across to the other side.” 36 And leaving the crowd, they took him with them in the boat, just as he was. And other boats were with him. 37 And a great windstorm arose, and the waves were breaking into the boat, so that the boat was already filling. 38 But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion. And they woke him and said to him, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” 39 And he awoke and rebuked the wind and said to the sea, “Peace! Be still!” And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm. 40 He said to them, “Why are you so afraid? Have you still no faith?” 41 And they were filled with great fear and said to one another, “Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?”

Mark 4:35-41

Jesus likes a good nap as much as I do.  But nobody wants Jesus taking a nap in the middle of a storm.  Like, Dude, we know you’re God and all, but hello, there’s a storm and we’re probably all gonna die, don’t you think you ought to take a nap later?!  

I get it.  The disciples were scared.  Of course they were.  Because it looked like Jesus didn’t care about their needs, or their lives, or their troubles as much as he cared about his nap.  

You’ve been there, haven’t you?  In those times where you feel like God doesn’t care.  Like He’s too busy taking care of other more important things, or that he’s so far removed from you that He can’t even see the storms you’re facing, what with all the angels and clouds and harps and stuff being all distracting up in Heaven.

But that’s just not God.  

Jesus and I have been talking a lot about this lately.  Storms are such a common part of my life.  If it’s not one thing then it’s another.  Health.  Finances.  Kids.  Jobs.  War.  Famine.  Strife.  Why isn’t God doing something?!  It’s like He’s asleep on the job.

So, the other night, my husband and I were faced with one of those big scary storms. See, we always get a little stressed out when it’s forecasted to rain a lot.  Back in 2016 our basement flooded and it traumatized us a little bit.  We’ve taken steps to keep the basement from flooding, but we still get antsy when the forecast calls for a lot of rain.  

So I went to the Lord and I said, “Jesus.  Please don’t let our basement flood.”  

His response was beautiful.  He said, “Come and cuddle here with me in the boat.  Let’s have a nap together.”

I admit it wasn’t the answer I was looking for.  Not at all, honestly.  But this crazy nonsense peace fell over me.  I told my husband what He said and we literally decided to just go to bed and stop worrying about it.  I slept like a baby.  And in the morning everything was fine.  No flooded basement.

That’s who Jesus is. Getting us through our storms is what He does.

Jesus asked His disciples why they didn’t trust Him.  He’s God.  He doesn’t need to be awake to calm the storm.  He knows it’s raging.  He’s God.  And we are safe in His arms.  So safe.  But the disciples still marveled over Him.

“Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?”

So, that’s my question for you today.  Who is this Jesus? The one the winds and waves obey? Will you trust Him to lead you and protect you from the storms in your life? When he offers, will you go and cuddle into a good nap with Him the next time the storm clouds rumble and the waves rock you? 

Who is this Jesus? He is God. He is savior. He is yours to trust. Will you trust Him?

Posted on by Daisy Joan

Desperately Seeking Jesus

I think we can all agree that 2020 has been one of the craziest years in our lifetime!  Political polarization.  Racial injustice.  Riots.  Murders.  Masks.  Earthquakes.  Fires.  Flooding.  Volcanic eruptions. Zoom meetings.  

In times like this, we are all looking to God for answers.  But how do we hear Him?  What do we even ask him?  And what is His response?

O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you;
    my soul thirsts for you;
my flesh faints for you,
    as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.
Psalm 63:1

Sounds about right.

We desperately seek Him.  We want Him.  We know we need Him.  We cry out to him and yet the air is dry and thick around us.  It doesn’t feel like it’s even possible to hear from God in this mess.

But here’s what David did in Psalm 63:

So I have looked upon you in the sanctuary,
    beholding your power and glory.
3 Because your steadfast love is better than life,
    my lips will praise you.
4 So I will bless you as long as I live;
    in your name I will lift up my hands.
Psalm 63:2-4

If I can’t feel God now, I will look for Him where I have seen Him.  I will remind myself of who He is.  I will remember that His Love supersedes all fear, all trials, all division.  I will remember and I will give myself to Him again.  Fresh with praise, I will seek the Lord and the promise of His unfailing love.

My soul will be satisfied as with fat and rich food,
    and my mouth will praise you with joyful lips,
6 when I remember you upon my bed,
    and meditate on you in the watches of the night;
7 for you have been my help,
    and in the shadow of your wings I will sing for joy.
8 My soul clings to you;
    your right hand upholds me.
Psalm 63:5-8

And my praise turns to meditation.  It turns to the recollections of faithfulness that have been the hallmark of my relationship with Christ.  At night my mind stops wondering about the world and rests instead in the peace of God’s unending faithfulness.  

It’s so hard to feel God when we are in the midst of worldly trials.  Pain and conflict or hard to surrender to God because our flesh isn’t going to stop hurting just because we trust God’s faithfulness.  

Yet, in the agony, in the tumult of the storm, God is still with us.  

As David began to reflect on who God was instead of what God could give him, he began to feel a praise-worthy peace in his soul.  God had proven himself faithful to David.  Always faithful.  David could trust that even though his situation was dire and his weary, desperate heart was parched with raw emotion and fear, God would remain ever faithful.

We can trust that, too.  Even with the world falling down around us.

The trials will not stop in this lifetime.  Not until Jesus returns.  So we cling to Him.  We hold onto His promises.  We remember His faithfulness in our own lives.  We look back on our journey and see His provision and salvation.  We see Him.  And we know that in our current struggles he will remain faithful, just as he always has. 

The riots.  The politics.  The fear.  The desolations of this world.  They don’t matter anymore to the one who finds his peace in the shelter of the Almighty.  God’s wings are broad enough to cover all who would seek refuge there.  

But those who seek to destroy my life
    shall go down into the depths of the earth;
10 they shall be given over to the power of the sword;
    they shall be a portion for jackals.
11 But the king shall rejoice in God;
    all who swear by him shall exult,
    for the mouths of liars will be stopped.
Psalm 63:9-11

And so we can rejoice.  God will have his way.  He is speaking.  He is acting.  He is doing all that He has always done.  He is faithful and His steadfast love is better than life.  So reach out your hands to the ones who are drowning, to the ones who are desperately crying out for salvation, and bring them to the Savior.  

Because at the end of the day, most of our questions to God can be paired down to this simple request: “Will you save me?”

And God’s answer is always, “Yes.”

28 “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30 For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”
Matthew 11:28-30

Posted on by Daisy Joan

A Friend of God

People call me a deeply spiritual person.  A prayer girl.  A friend of God.  Someone who is praying continuously.  I’ve been proud of that.  I like that about myself.  And I suck at it. 

I get angry.  I get irritated.  I get frustrated.  People are stupid and most of the time I throw my hands up in the air with aggravation rather than deal with them.  A problem comes up and I try to handle it with love and kindness.  I try to be a peacemaker.  I really, really do.  Yet, I fail at it miserably all the time.  Because people are stupid.  And so am I.

I’m not nearly as spiritual as I think I am.  I’m not near as good of a friend to God as people think I am.  I’m not continually praying, even when I think I am.  I get distracted by emotion.  I get distracted by myself and my circumstances.  I turn into a victim or a tyrant or even a peacemaker and forget to bring God into the conversation at all.  

No wonder I fail miserably so often!

12We ask you, brothers, to respect those who labor among you and are over you in the Lord and admonish you, 13and to esteem them very highly in love because of their work. Be at peace among yourselves. 14And we urge you, brothers, admonish the idle,c encourage the fainthearted, help the weak, be patient with them all. 15See that no one repays anyone evil for evil, but always seek to do good to one another and to everyone. 16Rejoice always, 17pray without ceasing, 18give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. 19Do not quench the Spirit. 20Do not despise prophecies, 21but test everything; hold fast what is good. 22Abstain from every form of evil.

23Now may the God of peace himself sanctify you completely, and may your whole spirit and soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. 24He who calls you is faithful; he will surely do it.
1 Thessalonians 5:12-22

The other night the Lord said something to me that I can’t stop thinking about.  With all the kindness and tenderness of the sweetest southern gentleman, the Lord asked if I would invite him into the conversation.  The Lord asked me!  Wow.  The King of the Universe lovingly asked me if He could be a part of my conversations.  All of them.  

He didn’t ask me to be quiet.  He didn’t ask me to stop getting frustrated or angry or self righteous. He just asked me if He could be part of my conversations.  No judgement.  No criticism.  Just a gentle request.

I know I don’t invite Him in because deep down inside I think I’ve got it all figured out.  Either that, or I think He won’t like what I have to say, or He’ll stop me from having a voice at all.  He’s the Creator of All Things.  He doesn’t need me or want my opinion.  

What a filthy lie. 

The truth is, the God of the Universe made me in His image to be His friend.  And He loves me!  He doesn’t want a silent slave.  He wants a full fledged son with all the rights of inheritance He has given His Son.  All of it.

And He had to ask me to invite Him into the conversation.

No longer do I call you servants, for the servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, for all that I have heard from my Father I have made known to you.
John 15:15

Jesus, I confess that I’ve not been very good at inviting you into my conversations.  I’ve tried to figure things out on my own.  I’ve lived huge parts of my life only letting You in occasionally.  And I didn’t even realize I was doing it.  So, I’m sorry, Lord.  I’m sorry for not inviting You in.  I took Your forgiveness and neglected Your wisdom.  Please forgive me.  Help me to do better.  Destroy my fear and insecurity.  Destroy my arrogance and any power I think I can manage without Your input.  It’s all Yours, God.  Every bit of who I am You designed.  It’s Your DNA that made me.  Will You show me how to invite You in and still be me?  Will You show me what freedom in sonship looks like?  Will You teach me how to be in You more fully and trust You more deeply so that You are always a part of my conversations.  Always.  I love you, Jesus.  Help me act like it.  Amen.