A Psalm of Jenny

We're doing a bit of artistic learning this week at G42, and last night our assignment was to write a psalm using three words we've never used before to describe ourselves. 

Here's mine: 

A Psalm of Jenny.

I praise you, God, who has taught me to be a delighter in the simple. 

You've moved my heart with many a sunrise. 

You're stirred my soul with soft breeze and whispered love. 

You've shown me how to rejoice in the raindrops. 

I worship you, Father, who has made me in your image, after the likeness of your inner being. 

You've made me a nurturer, a bringer of life to dead things, an encourager of life that already breathes. 

You've made your passion for life abundant my passion and my joy. 

I thank you, Papa, because you've shown me that I can be uncomplicated in your sight. 

I am understood by you, fully and completely. 

You are the Knower of me;

The beginning, the end, (and the middle) of my joy. 

Give All You Have

"...But just as you excel in everything--in faith, in speech, in knowledge, in complete earnestness and in your love for us--see that you also excel in this grace of giving. 

I am not commanding you, but I want to test the sincerity of your love by comparing it with the earnestness of others. For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, so that you through his poverty might become rich. 

And here is my advice about what is best for you in this matter: Last year you were the first not only to give but also to have the desire to do so. Now finish the work, so that your eager willingness to do it may be matched by your completion of it, according to your means.For if the willingness is there, the gift is acceptable according to what one has, not according to what one does not have. Our desire is not that others might be relieved while you are hard-pressed, but that there might be equality. At the present time your plenty will supply what they need, so that in turn their plenty will supply what you need. Then there will be equality, as it is written: 

'He who gathered much did not have too much, and he who gathered little did not have too little.'" 

-Paul, 2nd Corinthians 8:7-15

"When the dew was gone, thin flakes like frost on the ground appeared on the desert floor. When the Israelites saw it, they said to each other, 'What is it?' For they did not known what it was. 

Moses said to them, "It is the bread the LORD has given you to eat. This is what the LORD has commanded: 'Each one is to gather as much as he needs. Take an omer for each person you have in your tent.'

The Israelites did as they were told; some gathered much, some little. And when they measured it by the omer, he who gathered much did not have too much, and he who gathered little did not have too little. Each one gathered as much as he needed. 

Then Moses said to them, 'No one is to keep any of it until morning.' 

However, some of them paid no attention to Moses; they kept part of it until morning, but it was full of maggots and began to smell. So Moses was angry with them." 

-Exodus 16:14-23

I was reading through these scriptures about two weeks ago, and I had one of those moments where God just seems to drop truth into my mind and heart. Let me attempt to explain it all a bit: 

I've been in the middle of abundance. I've realized, even more, the reality of all the fullness that God's given me through Jesus. He's so good! He's given me His inheritance and made me His daughter! His Spirit lives in me! That's crazy! 

I've also begun to realize that abundance tests my heart. It challenges me to give all that I've been given. To speak the words of love that God's whispered to my heart and to speak the truth that He's used to set me free. I have to give it away. Not only do I have to give it all away, but I want to. I want to end each day seeking His provision for the next. And here's the good news: I know He'll be faithful. 

Just like Israel's manna, if I keep Him to myself, I get stale. My relationship with Him is supposed to be a source of life to me, but also to the people around me. If I cling tight to the spiritual bread He gave me yesterday, I not only miss today's fresh spiritual bread, but I also miss the goodness of gathering it. I miss out on Him if my soul's eating something stale instead of meeting with Him to get the fresh stuff.  

So, a couple of summation bullet points/mini-sermons to myself: 

• Don't be afraid to give yourself away, to trust Him to be your life. 
• Don't be a hoarder. Don't save some back for emergencies. 
• Live in His presence (and out of its fullness). 
• He gives fresh spiritual bread for my soul to eat---everyday! 
• He's trustworthy. He's not lying to us. 

Dear Reader, we've all been given an abundance in Christ Jesus. You have something precious. You're meant to give it away. I think, as you do this, you'll find what I've found, there's always more than enough. 

"Do not withhold good from those who deserve it, when it is in your power to act. Do not say to your neighbor, 'Come back later; I'll give it tomorrow'--when you have it with you." 

-Proverbs 3:27-28

"And my God will meet all your needs according to his glorious riches in Christ Jesus." 

-Philippians 4:19

An Excerpt: Veneer: Living Deeply in a Surface Society

I've recently finished a book by Timothy D. Willard and Jason Locy called, Veneer: Living Deeply in a Surface Society. It's all about real, real relationships, both with other people, and with God. It's been challenging; it's been fun. I'd recommend it. 

Here's a little (or slightly long) snippet for you to check out. I really enjoyed this bit because it's such an accurate depiction of the way my life feels right now---enjoy! 

"There's a great camping spot in George Washington National Forest called Panther Falls. It's tucked deep in the woods, but if you can borrow a friend's Land Rover, you can make it. The waterfalls, flowing beneath the tall deciduous canopy, tier down the side of the mountains. 

At the top of the falls, to the right of the massive boulders jutting from the ground, rests the perfect campsite. Below, the water collects in a deep pool, deep enough to jump into from atop the falls. If you make it to Panther Falls, build your bonfire at dusk and enjoy some hot dogs, cold beverages, and s'mores, then, wait until dark, take off your clothes, and jump from the top of the falls into the dark, freezing-cold pool below. It's not a huge drop, maybe twenty feet. But you will scream like a little girl. You will freeze your eyelids off. And you'll do it over and over. 

Becoming intimate with God feels a lot like jumping from Panther Falls at night, naked. We stand there contemplating the whole thing. Making sure we jump in the right place so we don't hit the rocks below. A sense of nervous excitement fills our bellies. But if we don't take the first step toward the edge, we miss the point of the trip. We have to jump. 

But it's not just the jump that is so invigorating. It's the falling from the cliff in the pitch of night, screaming with fright and glee until we hit the water, plummeting from the familiar to the unknown. The cold, the impact, the immediate change to the underwater world--there, time freezes as the exhilaration of the jump courses through our veins. For a moment, the darkness of the underwater world holds us. 

People often say that faith is like stepping into the unknown, stepping off a cliff. And for those of us who do jump, we experience significant change. We surface, gasping for air, and then tread silently in the dark water. We are reborn, again--children playing under the watchful eye of the God who whispers to us, "Do it again." And we do; we climb in the darkness, up the cliff, freezing, wet, and fully alive. We go through the same steps, and though we've done it before, a tinge of fear remains and we can't wait for it to overwhelm us. This time we don't step off the cliff; we leap. 

There is darkness. There is the fall. There is the hard impact with the water. But there is now, also, a knowing. Not a knowing in the sense that we fully understand the water or the darkness or the fall but rather a knowing that unfolds. We anticipate the healthy fear of the leap, the excitement of falling into what we can't fully see, and the joy of a new underwater world. 

With God, the deeper we plunge, the more he expands. Believing in him is merely the jumping off point, the first step. Intimacy with him feels more like screaming all the way down during the cliff jump and lingering extra long in the underwater world, afraid, yet quickened, revealing, yet mysterious. We would jump off a thousand cliffs just to feel that sense of aliveness in God! And when we realize that his heart burns for us, we can, for that briefest of moments, touch eternity--fully known, expectant to one day fully know."