Category: Scripture

Faith, Scripture

The Art of Waiting

Carrie Sue Barnes

I don’t consider myself an artist. That’s simply not a label I have ever used to describe who I am or what I do. The last five months and especially the last week though, have given me every opportunity to become an artist in a very specific genre: the art of waiting. Waiting on efforts to bear fruit, hopes to be fulfilled, plans to be successful, and prayers to be answered. These acts of waiting characterized my and my family’s days. I call them “acts” for waiting is not necessarily a passive thing. There’s a lot of effort to be put into waiting, or at least into waiting rightly. Waiting with hope; waiting with peace; waiting with intentionality. It’s hard. It is SO hard.

And now as the efforts and hopes of those five months are finally bringing about fruitful change, as we’re packing our home to move and preparing for my husband to start a new job, I find myself still wrapped up in the art of waiting. My unborn daughter is teasing me with days of early labor contractions, hanging out in there for longer than I or my doctor expected. I’m scheduled to be induced in two days and that scares me for some reason way beyond any nervousness I might feel about going into labor and delivering this baby any time now.

Just the same as all the days in those five months that I’m glad are wrapping up now, I can’t depend on much other than trust, prayers, and feeble attempts at patience. The art of waiting is centered on acknowledging that there is so little in my own control – and then believing that is perfectly okay.

“Be still and know that I am God.” (Ps 46:11)

“But do not ignore this one fact, beloved, that with the Lord one day is like a thousand years and a thousand years like one day. The Lord does not delay His promise, as some regard ‘delay,’ but He is patient with you, not wishing that any should perish but that all should come to repentance.” (2 Peter 3:8-9)

“Peace I leave with you, My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give it to you. Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid.” (John 14:27)

Faith, Holiness, Scripture

The Look of Trust

Carrie Sue Barnes

Depending on the day, saying I trust in God can land anywhere on the spectrum of easy to difficult. In the best mindset though (note: not necessarily the best circumstances, but the best mindset), aware of God’s promises, of His nature, and of all the ways He’s cared for me in the past, I can readily say that I trust in God.

Trust in God for what? “I trust in God” is truly an unfinished statement. For what? With what?

Added to these questions is the wondering, “what does that look like?” When trust is real, when it accomplishes what it ought in my heart and mind, what does that look like? Surely a life lived with trust in God has some noticeable differences from a life lived without.

Today is as good a day as any for me to think through these questions as the trusting is landing somwhere near the more difficult-but-extremely-necessary end of the spectrum.

A couple nights ago, I started reading the Psalms to my son (via my belly). I thought about how all the books and folks say that baby in the womb can sense and react to the way Mom is feeling, especially when it comes to stress, anger, distress, fear, etc. It struck me that, because it doesn’t cause concern health-wise, it’s not talked about so much from the opposite angle. Does consistent peacefulness, a restful mind, a gentle spirit do as much good for the developing child as the opposite does harm? I like to think the answer to that is yes.

The words I read to my unborn son spoke frequently of trust, strength, peace, provision – all coming from the Lord. And that’s really what it comes down to, doesn’t it? That’s where the difference lies. A life lived in trust in God means I look to Him for what I need. I trust Him with the worries plaguing me. I trust Him with the potential joy or sorrow that could come of a relationship or experience. I trust Him with the ones I love and whom I wish I could save from every harm. I trust Him with my hopes. I trust Him with my self!

The peace of mind, the needs of each day, the strength and wisdom in each circumstance; I don’t look to anything or anyone before God. He may provide through other things and other people, but I look to Him first and above all. And when He provides by whatever means He chooses, I remember and am certain that the answers came from Him, not anywhere else. I don’t get chained down by worry and fear because a need placed in God’s hands means it is in His hands. In His care. A pretty notion? No, a powerful notion. If I can encourage my children not to worry or be afraid because they can rest assured that their mother and father are caring for them, how much more can a life changing example be set by the fact that I live in deliberate assurance that I am in God’s care!

A life lived in trust in God does look different. There is a steadiness to it, an unshakeable character that breeds confidence, peace, and endurance through the thickest and thinnest of life’s days. It shapes reactions, choices, words, and thoughts. The look of trust is the look that I pray will mark my features as a wife and mother.

To thee, O Lord, I lift up my soul. O my God, in thee I trust, let me not be put to shame. (Psalm 25:1-2a)
 
Vindicate me, O Lord, for I have walked in my integrity, and I have trusted in the Lord without wavering. (Psalm 26:1)
 
The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid? (Psalm 27:1)
Gratitude, Scripture

In Everything, Give Thanks

Carrie Sue Barnes

Early evening sunbeams pouring through the clouds, landing on the lush green tree tops and full corn fields. It’s a scene I’ve seen a thousand times through the car window, a photo I’ve taken at least a dozen times. Why does it still take my breath away? Why does it not yet seem “generic,” as one person called it? I can only call it grace. I can only attribute it to the Lord forming my eyes and heart over time to see the uniqueness of that particular view. He knew before I was formed that I would be a person benefitted by appreciating such scenes. He knew I would need to be built up by glimpses of beauty on ordinary days.

Last week I began reading One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp, and this week I became a copycat. Immediately moved by the author’s dawning realization of the value of giving thanks, day in and day out, I chose to take the dare she laid out on the pages. I am writing down in a small notebook the moments that produce thanksgiving. What I quickly understood is that I tend to reserve my offerings of thanks to the times when I come to pray – on the occasional mornings when I take a few minutes to pray and read Scripture, in the evenings as I lay in bed at the close of another day, and especially at Mass, my knees on the kneeler, my forehead resting on my folded fingers. The challenge I am taking up is to give thanks all day long… to maintain a riveted awareness of all there is to be thankful for in my life.

For the first time ever I feel like maybe what St. Paul describes could actually be possible: “Rejoice always; pray without ceasing; in everything <sup class="crossreference" value="(AL)”> give thanks; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18),” I’ve been able to explain all I want what those verses mean but I can’t claim to have had success at living them. Setting my standard at “pray daily,” I measure myself in a lesser manner. But as St. Francis de Sales pointed out, “You learn to speak by speaking, to study by studying, to run by running, to work by working; and just so, you learn to love by loving. All those who think to learn in any other way deceive themselves.” And so, we learn to pray without ceasing by praying without ceasing. We learn to give thanks in everything by giving thanks in everything.

If God allows me to see/hear/touch/encounter something beautiful, something meaningful, something joy-giving, something that makes me smile or laugh or sigh happily, then He has given me reason to give thanks. If in an experience of difficulty or negativity, He keeps my perspective in check, or causes me to exercise compassion, understanding, or patience, then He has given me reason to give thanks. Perhaps eventually I’ll be able to see that God never isn’t allowing those things to happen, only I didn’t always recognize or accept them.

Ribbons on gifts
Dark red raspberries bobbing in a carafe of cotton candy pink lemonade
The softness of warm kisses
Cold orange juice
Waves from the neighbors as I leave for work
The scratch of pen on paper
Baby pictures on coworkers’ desks
Morning thunder
Patience in traffic

Thankfulness gives rise to joy. Do we not all crave a greater well of joy in our lives?

Scripture

Unexamined Life

Carrie Sue Barnes

Most have heard that age old Socrates quote, “An unexamined life is not worth living.” For many months now I have lived that unexamined life. Caught up in the whirlwind of discovering love and now planning a wedding, I inadvertently slipped into a new mode of operation. The reflection and contemplation that characterized my previous days was discarded in a subconcious assurance that I’d reached what I’d been aiming for with all that internal effort. It felt as though now I was in the era of action, rather than thought. That I’d built up toward all this and now I could simply do it. Reflection seemed the proper accompaniment to waiting. I was done waiting. Sadly, I now realize I was also done reflecting. It has produced havoc, this forsaking of examination. Damage. Each struggle I’m facing right now – in my heart with God, in my relationship with my fiance, in so much more – no matter which path of excuses I take it inevitably rounds a bend to reach this truth.

So what now? The contemplative version of myself seems but a distant acquaintance, one that cannot be brought back to intimacy in a mere moment. Yet I can take a step toward her. Right now. And in the next hour. And in the next morning. And in the next night. That first step to regain her presence took me to the Scriptures, thankfully.

I found myself in 1 Corinthians 13. Talk about age old statements, right? Love is patient and kind… not jealous or rude or arrogant or insisting on its own way. Hits me in the gut as I recall it again. St. Paul was naming off what I’d become in certain aspects of my love relationships! A point by point list of how I’d chosen to be in my words, actions and thoughts.

Then, by the Holy Spirit’s help, I stumbled upon this devotional blog post: http://www.proverbs31.org/devotions/choice-points-2012-08/. That Holy Spirit, He knows what He’s doing. The author presents a perspective on “choice points,” those moment by moment choices we make that seem insignificant but in reality affect our lives and those in our lives to a great degree. I have a serious tendency to focus everywhere but the moment I’m currently dwelling inside and so lack awareness of the immediate effects wrought by my words and actions. This choice points lens has the potential to change my daily vision.

As it has in the past I’ve no doubt that this blog of mine can be useful in the quest for reflection and awareness. I don’t know if I have any readers left, absent as I’ve been. If I do though, I thank you and I welcome your input.

Holiness, Love, Scripture

Bear With One Another

Carrie Sue Barnes

(Originally written for “The Bells of St. Mary’s” parish newsletter)

I’m on break at work and it’s been one of those days: computer issues rendering me incapable of completing my task list, miscommunications and lack of responsibility by individuals, and a vague awareness that I need a vacation. It’s all adding up to a mood in which I’m simply trying not to ruin other people’s days. Now I’m sitting down to write about forbearance. The humor is not lost on me.

Forbearance. The word almost sounds foreign. Certainly not one that rolls off the tongue in everday conversation. It is a word hearkening back to the antique language of the Bible, before revisionists tried to modernize the verses of Scripture. But what is it? Merely a synonym for patience? When St. Paul instructs us to bear with one another (Colossians 3:13), is it a matter of just putting up with people as they are? Or is it a virtue that integrates several virtues at once?
Patience, compassion, mercy, understanding, humility, forgiveness – each is in play when forbearance is practiced. And why do we forbear? Ultimately? Because God does. Because “while we were still sinners Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8).

We forbear because the Father did not wait for us to understand His plans before He sent His only begotten Son. Christ did not wait for people to believe in Him before performing miracles, or for folks to humble themselves before setting a holy example of service. And He did not wait for us to stop sinning before pouring His life out on the Cross. When we consider the Lord ‘s mercy, we should “consider the patience of our Lord as salvation” (2 Peter 3:15).

The family member who can’t shake an addiction, or who has an unbroken pattern of selfishness; the friend who clings to self-pity and grudges, or is too proud to admit a mistake; the coworker who gets under your skin; the spouse with the habit you wish could be eradicated; the child who just can’t correctly do what you’ve shown him how to do a hundred times. They all need your forbearance.

One who forbears looks upon another’s struggle, suffering or shortcoming and, as he does so, humbly acknowledges his own of the same. Forbearance manifests itself in enduring, determined patience. It is the antithesis of provocation. Where you could react in loud anger, you choose mildness and calm, firm words. Instead of giving up hope, you ask the Holy Spirit to show you how to help. Rather than dismissing the troubles weighing on another’s mind, you listen and seek to understand. Forgiveness is chosen over resentment. Intercession is offered up instead of condemnation.

Look on everyone with the eyes of your Heavenly Father, from the briefest encounter with a stranger to the most intimate relationships in your life. The Father’s eyes see each of us as we truly are, with every success and failure, strength and weakness, act of love and act of fear, virtue and vice. Through those eyes, we can love, and because we love, we can forbear.

Faith, Holiness, Scripture

Feasting

Carrie Sue Barnes

To close my adoration hour this past Monday, I prayed Psalm 63. My eyes returned to verse 5 after I finished. I read the words over a second and then a third time. “My soul will feast and be satisfied, and I will sing glad songs of praise to you.” So read the Good News Translation which happened to be the version available in the adoration chapel. The NAB (verse 6, by the way) reads, “My soul shall savor the rich banquet of praise, with joyous lips my mouth shall honor you.”

Oh, those words! How truly they resonate. They reminded me of something my favorite Scripture professor, Dr. Gregory Vall, said as we studied Psalm 25. Verse 1 includes, “to you O Lord, I lift up my soul.” We discussed the notion of lifting our souls, our nephesh (Hebrew*), to God. Dr. Vall insightfully noted that “we are always lifting our nephesh to something.” Our souls are always seeking something and so we lift them up to whatever we think maybe, just maybe, will be what is sought. David, as he expresses in his psalm, chooses to lift his to the Lord. The verse that caught my attention so strongly in Psalm 63 seems to me like David’s follow up to that choice.

“My soul will feast and be satisfied.” Our souls – our innermost being that gives us our unique human intellect and free will, our ‘hearts’ that house our desires, our spiritual aspect – these souls of ours are incessantly hungry. Having been made for the purpose of eternal life with God, they are kept between the boundaries of this earthly life and so have an unshakeable restlessness for more. Hungry… and so our souls feed. Or rather, we feed our souls. Sometimes it is with the choice meats of prayer and authentic love. Other times, all too often, it is on the scraps of selfish pursuits or flawed pleasures. In some instances, we are quite aware that we are feeding our souls. We are convicted by the restlessness in us and so determinedly pursue contentment – be it in wise or unwise places. Then there are the instances of unawareness. We latch on to sources of pleasure, gnawing through them for the satisfaction they can’t give, and don’t even realize the malnourishment of our souls. This life offers an unending buffet for our consumption. Some soul foods are worth tasting and enjoying and will lend strength for the days ahead. Many are superb when taken in proper portions and at the right times. Others shouldn’t even touch your plate for they will only bring bitter, regrettable damage.

At all times though, our souls are feeding. They are never satiated. They cannot be. For it is only in the banquet halls of heaven that the “soul will feast and be satisfied.” One day… one day… the soul will long for no more for it will have all. In the meantime, feed it well, my friends.

(*Have to give credit to my friend Fr. Mike Chenier for correcting me when I first posted this and said nephesh is Latin. Can’t believe I made that mistake! I hope I didn’t shame Dr. Vall too badly.)

Books, Holiness, Scripture

How Small a Fire

Carrie Sue Barnes

I fell asleep while reading Persuasion. All the Jane Austen novels are worth reading (though Mansfield Park perhaps only once) but it is Persuasion that I return to time and time again. It is my literary comfort food. Among other things, the story is a demonstration of the terrible power of words. Words to persuade and convince, words to manipulate, words to hide behind, and words left unspoken for far too long. Only when words are spoken in humble honesty, without guile but with hope and courage, only then are things set aright and happiness slips into the grasp of the long suffering hero and heroine.

As this and other things this week have me considering the power of our words, the passage from James Chapter 3 came aptly to mind.

“If we put bits into the mouths of horses to make them obey us, we also guide their whole bodies. It is the same with ships: even though they are so large and driven by fierce winds, they are steered by a very small rudder wherever the pilot’s inclination wishes. In the same way the tongue is a small member and yet has great pretensions. Consider how small a fire can set a huge forest ablaze. The tongue is also a fire. It exists among our members as a world of malice, defiling the whole body and setting the entire course of our lives on fire, itself set on fire by Gehenna. For every kind of beast and bird, of reptile and sea creature, can be tamed and has been tamed by the human species, but no human being can tame the tongue. It is a restless evil, full of deadly poison. With it we bless the Lord and Father, and with it we curse human beings who are made in the likeness of God. From the same mouth come blessing and cursing. This need not be so, my brothers.” (vv. 3-10)

It’s a dire outlook on human communication but one that is unfortunately justified again and again. With the same mouth we worship God on Sunday mornings then tear down our neighbor, a priceless human being made in the image of God. “From the same mouth come blessing and cursing. This need not be so…” This need not be so. That comment cuts me to the quick. Encouragement and discouragement; love and hate; hope and fear; honesty and dishonesty; and on and on. Are we even aware of the fires we set with our words? Daily we engage in communication with one another, from the spouse to the stranger, and none of our words are without effect. None of them.

If we consider the power of our words for ill, are they not equally capable of good? Were we but more conscious of ourselves, more attuned to the responses of the other person, more concerned with building up another than ourselves… oh the good that could be done. Instead of violent fires, the flames set might be lamps added to one another’s paths – paths often difficult enough to walk without us multiplying the difficulty for each other. Yes, the good that could be done.