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…you have to change your world first. (part 2)

I just absolutely love Sunday afternoons. I didn’t used to–not before we discovered a cadence to the space that takes shape after church and lunch, right in the midst of quiet times and naps. The house gets still, and I feel little guilt about taking time to rest. That’s what this time of the week is for…to pause, absorb, process, draw inward, be.

I used to be a doer. All of the time.

This didn’t change much about the trajectory of my days, save the fact that there was always something in front of me as tangible evidence that I could produce. I had something to show for my time. I could keep up quite beautifully in a world of movers and shakers. I thought this was progress. And I thought my work determined my worth.

There has been a shift in me in this regard, and it’s taken it’s time to evolve. In part, becoming a parent has caused me to discover value in intangible progress: dirty dishes in the sink and toys everywhere, but kiddos whose hearts are forming daily and babies who are growing physically and spiritually at the same time. Sharing life with little ones kind of forces you into letting go of all of your to-dos on a regular basis. In a good way.

More than raising a family, though, the agent that’s caused the most change in me is the Holy Spirit–the presence of Christ in my life and the ability to ask for wisdom and discernment about all things, so long as I’m willing to invite the idea of a higher power and a mighty God into my life. If you’re reading from a different faith perspective, I hope I don’t lose you here, but that you’re open to me sharing my heart just as I would welcome dialogue about what’s going on in yours.

It’s taken a long time for me to realize that I’m not nearly as effective at anything as I am when I am inviting the Holy Spirit into my days. When I’m diligent about this, my production looks far less like checked off lists and far more like a willingness to bend to whims and changes, and an acknowledgment that my life is not my own, but borrowed time.

When I operate with the understanding that I have a responsibility to steward my time and thoughts and intentions well, not only do I feel the difference in my heart, but I see the fruit of this choice in my life. My relationships flow more naturally and carefully. My children snuggle closer and draw nearer in the soft spaces of the day that didn’t used to exist. When I sit down to write, or I head to the kitchen to make dinner…when I drive Henry to school or I talk with Jason about the meatier things going on in our lives and the world, I just have more peace. And I feel like God is willing to use me differently than when I’m overly concerned with the physical output of my day.

Enter Allume, and the ways that four days in South Carolina realigned my priorities and emphasized the work that God has been doing in my heart as of late. I love when this happens–it’s just so beautiful how things work together!

“If you want to change the world, you have to change your world first.” Remember this thought from last week’s conference? I shared a bit about this on Monday. While there’s so much more than a few blog posts worth of information and inspiration to unfold, it’s all coming in bits and pieces that I hope will trickle into my words here for some time to come.

Where do I begin to change my own world, so that I can change the world? For me, that place is in my commitment to intentional times of quiet, prayer and rest, which is why Sunday afternoons are a significant and worthy part of my life these days. Everything within me is richer when I rest, listen and pray.

For me, the listening part is the hardest, and also the most fruitful.

I started to draft a book proposal before heading to Allume. This was my first go, and a very challenging but rewarding process. I hadn’t planned to take this step even a few months ago, but sometimes things come at us and surprise us in a really beautiful way. In my case, a book proposal was the sweet and soul-refining exercise I needed to head into the conference with completely open hands and a wildly open mind. I didn’t know what God was doing in any part of the process.

Every time I sat down to the keys, I prayed first, but I spent more time just being quiet. And the more I did it–the more I surrendered my own thoughts and wants for the space to listen for God’s, my heart was refined. I stayed up, energized, so many nights in a row, not knowing where the road was taking me, but enthralled with the possibility of finding out.

Overlapping this time, I felt prompted to reach out and ask for prayer and support of a dear community of women around me, and goodness, did they show up! Day after day and prayer after prayer, these beautiful souls covered me and engaged with me, trusting that God could do something good…and he did.

He did. And he is, and I know he’ll continue to, so long as I keep giving my time and words and heart over to be refined and shaped. Under my own power, what I can produce in this lifetime pales greatly to what God can do when I invite him to show up. I am amazed at this process.

To be honest, I’ve been a little gun-shy about sharing it all here. Not because it doesn’t excite me, but because I know that talking about God and the Holy Spirit and both moving in my life and heart might seem a bit too etherial. This is true, in part because I can’t do any of it justice with my own thoughts or words.

What I can say is this: my Sunday afternoons and places of rest produce far more good and fruit in my life than any of my own human striving ever could. And whatever God has for my life and for me to do in this world matters way more to me than risking it all by not sharing it, by not prioritizing it, by not making it obvious to my kiddos or the people around me out of fear.

If I want to change the world, I have to change my world first.

So what matters to me? What do I spend my time on? My money on? My thoughts on? What fruit exists in my friendships, my home, my family, my daily life out in the world? Am I thinking in earthly terms, caring so much about the physical things that I forget to give time to what actually matters most?

I’m asking myself all of these questions and taking time for introspection because it matters. Because I really do want to change the world. Because I really do believe that God has something mighty to do, and that he is inviting me to share in a little part of it.

What more could I want or ask for in this life?

I want more of God, and I’m not afraid to say it. I want more of honoring him and pleasing him and serving him, and it starts with Sunday afternoons. I pray that they bleed into the fabric of my whole week…into the very marrow of my being. I pray that the more I’m able to change my own world, the more the world around me will change for good. And I pray that however God wants to use me, I’ll be open to it and hear it clearly.

He makes beautiful things out of the dust. He makes beautiful things out of us. What might he want to make out of me, or you, that could be far more beautiful that we would otherwise dare to imagine without him?!

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love from this quiet space on a sunday afternoon,

mm

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if you want to change the world… (part one )

You know the feeling: you’ve just finished a big race, or wrapped up a huge project, or celebrated a big event. All of the heart and energy and gusto you poured into said occasion was carrying you right through it. You gained momentum and rode the wave of adrenalin straight on to the end. It was exhilarating, exhausting, beautiful. And then it was over.

When we pour ourselves into something with everything we’ve got, it’s bound to impact our lives. But coasting on a spiritual or emotional high can only last so long. What happens when Monday morning rolls around and it’s back to a rhythm of normal, adrenalin-free days?

Today is a very Monday-ish Monday morning for me, as I adjust back to the cadence of routine after a beautiful time away at Allume this past weekend. Oh, to be able to translate all of the wisdom and spiritual encouragement from that space to this little space here!

In a nutshell, Allume is a women’s conference for writers/bloggers/artists “that offers a gathering place for kindred spirits to connect, learn, grow, and be refreshed so they can persevere in being a people who bring hope to the world through the social media medium.” Allume was all of these things, but this little summary doesn’t do it justice. Coming away from the conference, I’m doing my best to rest in a prayerful space, hopeful that the wisdom I gained through incredible speakers and God-fearing women will not fall on rocky soil.

I want to be good soil that God can use to reap a strong harvest.

After a race, we always need to recover. After giving birth, there is necessary time for processing and healing. When we come through any significant event in our lives, it’s important that we allow ourselves space to rest and reflect.

I feel like I’ve been training for a marathon, and that the gun has gone off and I’m out of the gate. Post-Allume, now I’m somewhere in the quieter stretch of miles…the necessary time alone on the path to pound pavement and let my mind wonder at my surroundings along the way.

This next season of days or weeks will hold much-needed processing time. As much as I want to just dive back into what I’ve been working on, or to see progress in leaps and bounds right. this. very. moment., it’s really not what God is calling me to do.

On Thursday night, Logan Wolfram ushered us into Allume with this important message: “If you want to change the world, you have to change your world first.”

How true it is! And how much I do want this! But I don’t want to change the world under my own power. I want to be a world-changer and story-teller the way that God ordains. In his timing, and with his guidance. The ultimate story of my life will be so much better that way.

Already God is moving where I invite him in. He is pressing me on all sides, and it is beautiful. As I process so much more from this past weekend and along this journey, I’ll keep sharing here. There’s so much more I want to tell you, but in the right timing.

This morning, I’m rocking my favorite new shirt and the reminder that I am FREE INDEED. I’m just going to live right here and soak that up for a little while. If you have found freedom in the presence of Christ in your life, will you celebrate this Monday declaration with me, too? You don’t have to wear the t-shirt to believe it (although I’ll admit it’s super comfy;)

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I pray that the sun is shining on your part of the world today, and that you are able to find time to rest in God as you ask him to change your world.

enjoying recovery mode,

mm

P.S. Stay tuned for more Allume recapping this week. It was just all too good to fit into one post!

P.S. If you have not yet subscribed to mollymadonna.com, an easy way to keep up on the latest here is to jump on over to the sidebar (or below) and add your email:) No spam from me, I promise. Just a little love from yours truly in your inbox when I post. I’d love to journey with you in this way!

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the squirrels are onto something.

So much is changing outside the window again and, as it happens every year, so much is changing inside, too. I love how our hearts keep time with the seasons. Everything flows from one mode to the next–no doubt a rhythm God planned long before he created the heavens and the earth. The sunset tonight was a fire lighting up the sky in every color…”Pink! Orange! Purple! White! Red! Blue!” the kiddos shouted out from the backseat. North and south the horizon stretched out especially long, as if God were adding an encore performance to an already knock out show. Nature gets to me like this almost daily. There is always something to amaze, always something to learn from going outside.

Retro Fall tree

As much as God is refining this part of the world right now, newly vibrant colors grabbing attention from treetops and cool breezes blowing away the very last traces of a casual summer, he is doing a major heart work in me, too. I can almost feel the colors warming up inside my spirit; the carefree summer girl in me grows more attentive and introspective while I turn my days inward and put my ear more fervently to the ground. There is always change taking shape from the inside out.

I used to think that fall meant winter was too close on our heels. I’ve never liked the cooped up feeling of cold, gray months, and I’m not much one for ice and snow. But this year I’m settling into autumn a bit more like I imagine God intended me to–taking inventory, preparing for future endeavors, plugging into his Word. I’m so grateful for his nudging in this direction, because I’m finding I crave and depend on it like air some days, and I trust that can’t be a bad thing. It’s been awhile since I’ve exercised the practice of listening for God by asking him to guide me in scripture. Lately, this prayer posture has met me in some of the most beautiful, open places.

I feel raw. Vulnerable. Real. And like I’m finally getting down to some of the heart work God has had for me all along. This changing gig is really amazing.

Maybe this autumn for me is meant to be less about the bright colors, the fall decorations, the focus on exterior things for the sake of holding onto something I love…and more about pulling back layers to discover the bare bones trunk of the sturdy, waiting tree underneath. I know which roots go deep, deep down, and which will help me to blossom again come spring. I am storing up nourishment in preparation for winter, but more than that, I am begging God to undergird me with his Truth–the armor he offers us in this lifetime if we will take it.

There is nothing like it, really, this Truth we have available to us in a book we can readily pull off the shelves. And I believe with my whole heart that the time for me (for all of us) to drench ourselves in Truth and to declare it our own…is right now. This scripture has come to my attention more than once this past week, and as I ask God continually to prepare my heart for the work he wants to do, I praise him for being clear and consistent to my spirit:

“Be careful that you do not refuse to listen to the One who is speaking. For if the people of Israel did not escape when they refused to listen to Moses, the earthly messenger, we will certainly not escape if we reject the One who speaks to us from heaven! When God spoke from Mount Sinai his voice shook the earth, but now he makes another promise: ‘Once again I will shake not only the earth but the heavens also.’ This means that all of creation will be shaken and removed, so that only unshakable things will remain.

Since we are receiving a Kingdom that is unshakable, let us be thankful and please God by worshipping him with holy fear and awe. For our God is a devouring fire.” Hebrews 12.25-29

God, help us to be like all of the living creatures on this earth in autumn, storing up nourishment from your Word as we prepare our hearts for seasons of long winter. Help us to remember where we have tucked away all of the wisdom you have poured out to us, that it would feed our souls while we wait for you. Thank you, Father, for the beauty of the changing seasons and for the tangible reminder of your faithfulness in bringing them around to us again and again.

set me aflame like your sunsets, God. like the fiery red and golden bringing my attention to you these days, everywhere i look.

mm

 

 

 

 

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lessons from the moon.

The moon ushered me home the other night. I was driving back late, alone in my car, and I had prayed for God to speak. I wanted so much to hear him. I was practically straining to hear him. And no audible words came, until I remembered this verse from the lengthy and beautiful psalm: “Your word is a lamp for my feet, a light on my path.” (Ps. 119.105) Was it really that simple? The message God had for me on the way home? Admittedly, I wanted it to be more than this…more than one verse. I was taking time out for God. I wanted a revelation.

Instead, that pesky moon followed me all the way to my front door–always at my left, just out my window. Isn’t it something that the world is even created this way, that the moon can even do that? On that last stretch of road home, my iTunes radio on random shuffle, a song came through the speakers. The words “Singing, you are holy, great and mighty. The moon and stars declare who you are. I’m so unworthy, but still you love me. Forever my heart will sing of how great you are,” poured right over me.

“The moon and the stars declare who you are.” Was God actually showing me more of his character and I hadn’t even noticed? Was he answering my prayer, just not in the way I’d expected?

moon and stars declare

Sometimes listening for God feels so hard. I want to be used and be moved, and often, I just really want an answer–not weeks or months later, but RIGHT NOW.

It’s so normal. And so many things in life feel instant these days. We have programmed ourselves to expect results immediately. At the risk of coining a new phrase, I think I’ll call it “Google Syndrome.” When we want the answer to something, it’s pretty much at our fingertips. Henry asks me a question and I find myself saying, “I’m not sure, buddy. Hang on. I’ll just google it.”

The concrete, factual things in life have instant answers in this plugged in, turned up age. But the hard things? The emotional and spiritual ones? So far, I can’t seem to google those. Can I just say, I think it would be devastating if I could.

Plugged in. Turned up. These seem to oppose the space I need to create for myself if I want to really connect with God. Remember last week when I talked about my journey of learning to listen intentionally, but not mastering it perfectly?

In order to make space for God to move in my life and in my heart, I must be intentional about carving out separated space and quieter time.

Not rushing around time, not falling asleep at the end of the day time (although I do this, too), but real, full, focused time. When I do make God a priority in my days, he moves. And over time, this dance we’ve done: God waiting for me and me slowly learning just how much I crave and need him, has moved me to love and trust him and crave him even more.

Like anything else we train for, listening for God is an exercise for me. It isn’t a random marathon dropped into the middle of my week, but instead, countless moments, hours, months, years of practice runs that have stretched my faith and built muscles that I depend on for strength when the race days do come.

I am very much in a season of listening and waiting on God these days. It is hard, certainly, but there is a sweetness about it that I don’t taste when I’m not so committed to perking my ears. I come to him desperately, openly, full of curiosity, hope, stress, challenge, joy. In my efforts to listen, I trust that God sees I am willing. And as I keep coming back for more, he entrusts relationships and stories and prayers and journeys to me that I know I would otherwise miss. He allows me to do life alongside people around me in a different way.

Please hear me when I say that I have so little figured out. But this fullness of God that is pressing into me is something I’ve missed before and that I really don’t want to miss again. Clearly, I’m human and stubborn, still placing my own ideas in the way of what God might have for me sometimes. Like so many other things, I have to talk to God about helping me through my stubbornness, too.

I had something to learn from the moon the other night, and I could have missed it. It’s completely ok for me to wait expectantly on God. And it’s completely ok that his response to me would be to rest in him and reflect on him in worship and nothing else. Maybe it’s better than ok.

bright moon

In a Google Syndromed world, it’s hard for me not to want answers in an instant. But God doesn’t operate on instant, worldly time. He operates on a time all his own. And if I truly trust him with my life…the one he so lovingly gave me…then I will learn to trust his timing, too.

“As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts,” [he declares.] “As the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return to it without watering the earth and making it bud and flourish, so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater, so is my word that goes out from my mouth: It will not return to me empty, but it will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it. You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace…” Is 55.9-12

As we journey together in life and faith, I pray that we will be able to carve out sacred time and space for God to speak to us. Sometimes in a whisper, sometimes in a way we never expected, but always for his glory and for us to be drawn closer and closer to him.

grace and peace,

mm

 

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just when you think you know love.

All day long I hear voices. I know them well, and because of this, they sift in and out of my day almost unnoticed, subconsciously planting seeds of life or death as I wander through tasks, experiences, interactions.

If I am not intentional, they can own me. I am my own goal keeper in a very important game.

There have been seasons–whole years even, when this running tape of voices has literally run me right into the ground. I didn’t used to have the capacity to un-hear the influence of outside input, messages coming at me like marketing impressions, changing how I’ve felt about myself, about others, about my place or status in this world.

I didn’t have a defense, or an understanding of why I needed one. My filter was one of judgement–towards myself, and towards anyone or anything in my path. How did I measure up? How did others think I measured up? How did I come across? Where did I fit? Couldn’t everyone see right through me to my insecurities, my hardest places, my scars?

I spent a lot of time and a whole lot more energy trying to keep up with the voices…even to get one step ahead of them. It was exhaustive and exhausting. For a long time, I didn’t know anything different.

And then I fell in love.

I fell in love, not in the way I’d fallen in love (or thought I’d fallen in love) before. Not with a false sense of love, or a false security in a person who couldn’t ever give me what I really needed, but with what my soul actually craved. You know how you feel when you first meet that “someone” you just know is going to find their way into your heart? That feeling of newness and excitement, as if nothing else in the world could touch you because you’re finally meeting the one who will most certainly complete you?

You never want it to stop.

Somehow in this new relationship the newness wouldn’t wear off. There was always something to discover around the next corner. He was the ultimate pursuer–a persistent romantic I couldn’t ignore. He literally chased me to the END of the earth (I would LOVE to tell you that story sometime), ran me up a mountain, challenged everything I’d known before I met him, insisted he wasn’t going to give up on me.

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When I was most in need of a rescuer, God came in and stole my heart. I’m completely serious. Not only did he rescue me from a deep, dark place, but he rescued me from a soundtrack that had previously run non-stop in the background of my everyday life. He got louder and louder–so loud at times that I couldn’t hear much of anything else. It was crazy and hard and beautiful. And I couldn’t help but let him do it. I craved it, actually.

I’ve asked God a lot of questions over the years, and far more since the day I decided I really wanted to let him in. Sometimes my petitions have come one after another after another, and sometimes with big long spaces in between. I’ve asked, begged, prayed, cried, and shouted for joy to him…and so many times he has answered me. I’ve been ugly and raw, radiant and celebrating. Broken to the point of desperation, hopeful to the brim. God has seen every bit of me and every side of who I am. He is the most patient listener I could ever imagine.

Because of this, I have learned to value listening back. Not perfectly (more on this to come), but intentionally, and more so as I’ve realized how much different I feel when I make space and time to do it. And the more I make an effort to listen, the better I become at defending the floodgate of my mind. I have a back up goalie who is far bigger, far stronger, far more agile than I could ever be, and more than I know what my heart needs, He actually created it.

It’s true. The God who created us and knows us deeply is keenly aware of our hearts. To. This. Day.

It doesn’t matter how old or young you are, how far you’ve wandered or how long (if ever) it’s been since you talked to God…I mean, really sat down and got quiet and talked right to him.

It doesn’t matter if it was last week or yesterday or when you prayed a prayer kneeling by your bed as a child.

It doesn’t matter if you’ve never been to church, or if you hate church, or if you’ve stopped going to church.

It doesn’t matter if the list of things you’re ashamed of, afraid of, convinced of, broken by, or hurt from is a mile and a half long.

He isn’t mean and he doesn’t condemn. But he will welcome you…Oh, how he will welcome you! And if you let him, he will tear down walls in your heart that you might not even know exist. He will repair things you didn’t know needed mending. He will put on gear and go to battle for you against the voices in your head that tell you you are disappointing, unimportant, failing, not enough. He will become for you the greatest lover of your soul.

More than a decade after realizing that the first true love of my life had waited patiently for me, he is still wooing me and challenging me, fighting for me and defending me. He is the ONE VOICE that can speak over top of all of the other voices in my head–the one I long to listen to, the one I crave more time with every day. There is no one like him. He cannot be chased away like the others. He persists and wins my heart over again and again.

I didn’t sit down to the keyboard today to write this post about anything specific. I just asked God beforehand to help me write whatever He needed me to say. And these words started coming. Maybe they are for you today, or for a friend. Maybe they are the first words you’ve heard from God in a while…ones he cared enough to pass through me so that they could get to you. If he’ll traverse continents and mountains to get to my little, aching heart, I believe he’ll do absolutely anything to meet us where we are.

If I shared this for you, I pray that God will also make a space for you to meet with him. Today. In the middle of the night. As the sun comes up tomorrow. I can always stand to have more space to meet with him…perhaps you could pray for that space for me, too?

peace to your heart today,

mm

molly table mountain