April 2018 – A Walk in the Garden

Grounded & Rooted

The mantra for my yoga class this morning: Be grounded and rooted in love. Throughout the class, my instructor repeated, “Take a deep breath and say, I am grounded and rooted in love.” While yoga philosophy is not based on Christianity, it does have a spiritual and meditative core. I can easily adapt these yoga essentials to my Christian faith.

During my restorative and yoga flow classes, I am mindful of God and in constant communication with him. This is a time to release whatever is weighing me down. To focus on my breathing, quiet my mind, and strengthen my body. Time spent in my yoga practice is spiritual. While I practice my Pranayama (yoga breath), I fixate on God. So to me, this morning’s mantra was: Be grounded and rooted in LOVE. The 1 John 4:8 Bible version, God is Love. I am grounded and rooted in Christ.

This perfectly timed theme impacted me, as it’s been my most recent prayerful focus during my Bible time. So, I soaked it up this morning. I am grounded and rooted in Love…Christ…God. (D) All of the above!

While my body was engaged in the restorative yoga techniques, my mind was reflecting and absorbing the vastness of God’s love. I envisioned his Spirit flowing through me, fulfilling my most heartfelt desire: My Christian roots are strong, my faith firmly grounded in Christ, God’s love cascading through me and out to others, with the Holy Spirit as my guide. Love them like Jesus, as the Casting Crown song says. I honestly can’t think of a better way to show Jesus how much I truly love him. I imagine this would make God smile.

John 15:12 My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you.

2 Corinthians 5:20 We are therefore Christ’s ambassadors, as though God were making his appeal through us. We implore you on Christ’s behalf: Be reconciled to God.

Monster Hugs

I experienced a different kind of worship this past weekend! My friend, Cindy, called and said she’d pick me up for church in fifteen minutes. Cindy had invited me before, but I’ve gone to the same church for the past twenty years. I was comfortable. Nonetheless, I went.

What I encountered was a Friday night praise and worship service that would make most of my fellow Sunday morning churchgoers cringe with anxiety. We Methodists stay put within the space of our own seat. But these people were hands-raised, dancing in the aisles, spinning around with scarves, blowing whistles and kazoos, proclaiming the name of God at the top of their lungs. It was electric! The praise band dynamic! I felt like I was at a Christian rock concert. You could feel the magnificent presence of the Holy Spirit. Wow!

The Psalmist speaks about praising God with harp and lyre, tambourine and dance, strings and pipes, and loud crashing symbols. This pastor distributed kazoos, whistles, and bells that night, and the crowd went wild with excitement! He urged us to let the Spirit take over and make beautiful(?) noise to the Lord. Well, there was lots of noise. Big noise!

Pastor Nieto encouraged us to praise and worship with a child-like spirit. This made me think about my sister’s very young children. Those three would love to dance in the aisles to the music. They wouldn’t worry what someone thought. So, why was I hesitant? Having been raised Methodist, there is certain decorum to the church service. We stand to sing the songs, recite the prayers, and sit still the rest of the time to listen to the sermon. There will be no bells or scarf dancing on Sunday mornings.

The last time I left my sister’s home. My six-year-old niece came to the door to give me a good-bye hug. “That’s not good enough!” She exclaimed and requested I get down on her level to try again. This, she learned from her Aunt Janet, since we give each other the absolute best monster hugs! If you’re not ready for this type of embrace, it will knock you over. These are hug-with-all-of-your-might kind of hugs!

I want to let go and praise God with that same “monster hug” degree of intensity. To worship God with the faith of a child and not worry what anyone else thinks about my dancing. I want to master this knock-you-off-balance type of spiritual devotion and sing aloud with all my heart. Until now, my worship has not been good enough. I’m going back this Friday night and try it again. After all, isn’t God worthy of a great big monster hug in the form of praise?

I think we know that answer.

Psalm 150: 1-6 ¹Praise the Lord. Praise God in his sanctuary; praise him in his mighty heavens. ²Praise him for his acts of power; praise him for his surpassing greatness. ³Praise him with the sounding of the trumpet, praise him with the harp and lyre, ⁴praise him with timbrel and dancing, praise him with the strings and pipe, ⁵praise him with the clash of cymbals, praise him with resounding cymbals. ⁶Let everything that has breath praise the Lord. Praise the Lord.

Birthdays and Easter Blessings

Twenty-four years ago, my April 3rd birthday fell on Easter Sunday. Two days earlier, my son was born on a Good Friday. I felt amazed that God would give me such a beautiful baby boy on the same, sacred day his son had given his life for mine. Sure, there were plenty more babies born that Good Friday. As a matter of fact, I have a friend whose daughter arrived the same day, in the same hospital. However, on this Easter weekend, I couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by God’s love for me. This was the beginning of my awakening as a Christian.

Childbirth is a miracle-no doubt about it. It puzzles me that anyone could experience it and not be in awe of God’s deity and acknowledge him as the Creator of life. I have thanked God every day for the blessing of my son’s life since the day I brought my new baby home. It was 75 degrees and sunny that Easter Sunday. It was truly my best birthday. My son, now 24, rolls his eyes at the thought. (No pressure there.)

The beginning of each April is always busy, planning and celebrating the two birthdays. And when Easter falls on, around or in-between, it’s kind of crazy. It’s so easy to get distracted by events when, honestly, I only want to focus on the greatest gift God gave me his life for mine. I want to absorb what his sacrifice truly means for me. To comprehend the physical and mental cruelty he endured. The betrayal, the agony he felt. To understand how anyone could have cried out for the release of Barabbas over my Christ. Would have I? I would certainly like to think not.

This year my son’s April 1st birthday fell on Easter Sunday. Now, a Duke graduate, his wish was to return to Durham, North Carolina, and celebrate with friends. The campus was more lovely than I remembered. This Easter Sunday, I finally got to experience worship in the exquisite Duke Chapel. The majesty of the chapel with its ornate woodwork and gorgeous stained-glass windows added to the Easter experience. The sounds of the choir echoed beautifully off the limestone. This celebration of Christ’s life and resurrection was heavenly. It reminded me of the infamous Mercy Me song. And I wondered, what will worship be like in heaven? I Can Only Imagine. What will it by like to thank him face-to-face? My life is a gift; given simply because he loves me. Until the day we meet, I intend to live my life as if Jesus were the one and only reason I have mine. What more could I offer him in return?

Galatians 2:20 I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.