guest blogger: tim

Monica: I've been reflecting on this first rich month of sabbatical and plan to write about it soon, but first this post falls to my third guest blogger and our final family member... my reluctant but very capable blogger hubby!

WAKING UP TO GLORY

Are we listening?

What do you see now? Have we ears, have we eyes,

to hear, to see?

I have written volumes already in a new journal I began a month ago, from my heart's journey, our family's story. But what, if anything, would someone else want to read? You do apparently want to hear something from our story, 'cause here you are. So here goes, my first ever blog entry.

This first pic is a view from about 4000 ft., near where we are living, looking north - I suppose toward Canada, where most of you are. Hardly a view to be able to see you, but in the close-up, it's a view of two important things, for me at least.

One is the heavy frost - we call it 'hoar' frost in Ontario. They have another name for it here. It built up over several days here last week at a certain altitude, as mist-heavy clouds rolled through at sub-zero temperatures. 'Twas beautiful - stunning - under sunny or cloudy skies. Ellie and I drove up high to see it up close again one afternoon.

But it could be an image of other realities. Not the least important of which being what was in recent months, and even years, a slowly accumulating frost in the heart of our affections. I'll let you interpret the rest; We've needed this rest. More badly than we knew - or even yet know.

How's your heart's affections?

The other reality is seen in the background, the glimpse of a winding road, off in the distance further

down the mountain. There's much to gain from walking that road, if we'll just start walking again ... Believe it or not, especially when one is given such an opportunity to rest on purpose, with purpose, it's discipline to walk into the heart of the mountains and see what God has for you there. It's much easier to stay home.

Rest is good. I mean, not just naps in the sun, but rest in our Rest, who is Jesus. (Maybe you wondered how long I'd take to mention Him.) It struck me with clarity and zealous gratitude last night that indeed God chose the themes for this sabbatical and the companions in them long ago. (By that I mean mainly the writers He led me to read.)

One theme is awakening.

Seriously, joyfully (C.S. Lewis says, "There is a kind of happiness and wonder that makes you serious."), it's been an exceedingly good month for me. I can't tell you how good; I could try but words would fail in more ways than one. I am waking up from my years-long semi-nap.

Further, I would observe, it's been a good wake-up for the three girls I get to live with. Monica has rested from the over-fullness of her schedule at home in Ontario (her ministry of caring and creating), and it's doing her good. And she has wrestled with the implications of that rest, including the geographic and emotional distance from people she loves so well, and the sometimes alarming devotion that just two little people ask for - and/or require. (Living in a remote home will do that for your focus, whether you want it to or not!) And those requests they make, and needs they actually have, we see more clearly than ever I think, are two different things. I know you know this.

As shepherds to these two lambs, I'd observe we are growing in clarity of purpose, and perception of reality, as far as their dear hearts and minds are concerned, and in our capacity to lead them well. And - and this is no small thing - they are each just possibly awakening to the reality of God - each in her own wonderful way.

Yes, I'd guess you thought it - this sabbatical has already been plenty good for our family. It's truly been about re-orienting our whole lives around God. And He is good.

Got a Bible nearby? Read Jeremiah 2:12-13. That speaks to us. Boldly. And we have turned toward Him to drink deeply (see John 4 and 7:37ff).

My source texts this month have included John's gospel and the Psalms. And then also a few books that have surprised me with their power and scope. I won't turn you off with summaries or recommendations. You have enough you want to read but haven't got to yet.

But allow me to rave a moment: Brother Andrew's God's Smuggler astonished and moved me with the simplicity of his faith and the greatness of God who leads and answers prayer. I'm praying more. And fervently, restfully, quietly.

John Piper's Desiring God has been on the edges of my consciousness for more than a decade. Why didn't I read it sooner? O, how far off I've been, wandering in the country called Skeptical, believing God to be miserly at worst ("Why won't He change this situation?" "What do you want from me God!?") , or only occasionally or randomly good-toward-me at best. Sure, I know He's good. And He's been good - so good toward us, personally and in mission-ministry.

Yet the abiding spirit of the man has grown - well, frosty. I have nursed what Brother Andrew calls a "Sacrificial spirit"; making sacrifices (and well we should, and well we will, cross-bearers that we are), but pitying myself most secretly for the sacrifice made, or believing that God wants us to get by on scraps for the rest of our lives. (Don't mis-read that I've finally come 'round to the prosperity gospel! You'd be way off there.) How poorly I apprehended the grace of God who delights that we would delight in Him!

And how dimly my heart did hear that God is glorious! Glorious! Piper posits - and I believe him - to re-state a classic statement I barely care about in itself but whose message matters immensely: that the chief end of man is to glorify God by enjoying Him forever. You'll note Piper changes it as he re-states it. Chew on that a while ...!

Delightful. He IS.

Delighting. I have been.

There's been more: a bio of Abraham Lincoln, and the magisterial Surprised by Hope by NT Wright. Don't get me started.

So I'm listening.

Better I think. To God. To Monica. To my girls. But how would I know? Will this season bear fruit? I mean - good fruit? Will you be able to tell? Will He say so? These are just some of the fears that emerge, if one listens to one's life (Frederick Buechner's term).

Still, my best guess for now is that I am listening better. Meditation in the Scriptures is far more focussed, far more fruitful in discerning 'what are you saying - to me, Lord?'; Prayer is more direct, silence more natural, writing far more free, authentic. And, oh God, this family - there is fruit here. We are growing. We are growing as we listen, see.

We took a jaunt in the car today in the bright sunshine to tour a portion of the Blue Ridge Parkway. (See why they call it 'blue'?)

Glorious. And not just out there.

In here. Praise be to God.

-- Tim