Category: Rachel G. Hackenberg

Uncertain: Not Clearly Identified or Defined

 
Now faith means putting our full confidence in the things we hope for, it means being certain of things we cannot see. It was this kind of faith that won their reputation for the saints of old. And it is after all only by faith that our minds accept as fact that the whole scheme of time and space was created by God’s command—that the world which we can see has come into being through principles which are invisible.
(Hebrews 11:1-3 J.B. Phillips)
 
 
Hello all! I am honored to be guest posting with Dawn  over at Beneath the Surface: Breath of Faith today. The past few weeks, we have been reading and responding to our journey through Writing to God.
 
Writing to God -40 Days of Praying With My Pen
 
My desire has been rekindled to express my love and passion for God through writing. I spend my days with pen and journal in hand, scribbling love notes, writing little poems, and just talking about life with Jesus. 
The prayers and writing prompts of Rachel G. Hackenberg in Writing to God: 40 Days of Praying with My Penhave opened new vistas as I meet with God on paper.
When Dawn asked me to share this week, I immediately offered the opportunity to God. When I read the prayer offering for Day 24: Uncertain, I decided to reflect on the prayer and the prompt for this week.
We all have questions and uncertainty in our lives. This prayer has edged itself into my heart, especially these lines:  “Is ‘Jesus’ the simple answer? Looking back, I see that you offered more puzzles than answers; that still seems to be true. So I will sit here, with palms open and unresolved prayers, O complex Jesus, if you will sit with me. This I ask, for lack of answers. Amen.” (Hackenberg)  
The angst that uncertainty produces in my heart desperately needed the comfort of this prayer.
 
Click here to read the entire post over at
Beneath the Surface: Breath of Faith
 
Posted on by kelrohlf 4

Comfort: To Ease the Grief Of

 
Are the comforts of God too small for you,
or the word that deals gently with you?
(Job 15:11 ESV)
 

My reading list seems sparse this month. As I was looking at books for Lent, two titles caught my attention. One a familiar friend, the other a new acquaintance. Both books encourage writing as a way of prayer.



Love Letters to God: Deeper Intimacy Through Written Prayer (Lynn D. Morrissey)

This first book is beautiful like its author. I’ve read it once before, and consider Lynn a dear friend and person who has fueled my passion for journaling.

This book is more than a guide to writing your prayers to God, it is an invitation to rekindle your relationship with God as the Lover of our Souls. As I enter the pages and the stories of Lynn’s adventures with God, as well as her struggles, my heart finds rest and revival at the same time. My imagination is drawn to the garden of my soul, and I long to tarry in the presence of our Savior.

Today this line, prompted a prayer of examen: “Naming our grief is the first step toward healing.” That one sentence opened up a floodgate of griefs that I have been ignoring, afraid to name them for fear of being consumed by grief. The crazy thing is that the more I try not to name my griefs, the more they come out in anger and despair.

In my journal, I wrote: “My grief is . . . regret, dismay, denied, unrealistic, unnameable, transitional, disappointment based on sin, sorrow, sickness, separation and simple doubts about God’s goodness.” This simple act of confession brought to light what troubles me. I don’t have solutions, but expressing these on paper was the first step of reaching out to God for healing and comfort.

Writing to God: 40 Days of Praying With My Pen (Rachel G. Hackenberg)

I love the simplicity of this book. The prayers recorded in this book are poetic. They have inspired me to write poem prayers. Writing poetry takes my raging thoughts and distills them down into concise, raw expressions. When I read Rachel’s poem prayers and my own, I am drawn to some phrase that feeds my soul in the moment.

On the facing page of each prayer, she offers a prompt to read a Scripture and to contemplate a topic, which spurs me on to more written expressions of my heart.

In the poem, Nighttime Prayer, she explores her fear of the dark, which leads to her real fear–the fear of not being in control or able to stave off disaster that might come in the middle of the night. Early in the morning she laments, “Wide-eyed in case the uncontrollable, unthinkable happens/So I stay awake/Stay distracted/Determined not to be caught off guard by the night.”

Her prayer prompt for this entry explores fear: “Write a prayer about fear, and let the presence and encouragement of God surround you with holy comfort.”

Combining this reading with the quote from Love Letters about healing and grief, I noticed a connection between grief and fear.

I wrote: “My fear is . . . bound up in my grief. I fear failure, disappointing others, not keeping up, other people’s opinion of me, giving up on life, disappointing others’ expectations of me. I am afraid of depression, cancer, pain, failure, rejection, hope, renewal, new paths, success, criticism, praise, pride, the future, boredom, apathy, cynicism, nothingness, death, living, making mistakes. . .”

These confessions were random, yet real. Something about confessing these on paper enlarges my perspective.

My conclusion today was that I am powerless . . . and that’s a good thing to know and believe, because then I cry out, “I need you, Lord Jesus!”

And He comforts me.

Linking up with:

Posted on by kelrohlf 9

Repent and Believe the Gospel Again

This love of which I speak is slow to lose patience—it looks for a way of being constructive. It is not possessive: it is neither anxious to impress nor does it cherish inflated ideas of its own importance.
(1 Corinthians 13:4 J.B. Phillips)
 
 
 
Shake off your routines like bedcovers

Plant your feet on the ground
for the journey

Clear your eyes of sleep

Take in the sight of a new day
for loving your God

(Rachel G. Hackenberg)

 

I like my routines.  I get up every morning.  I brew a cup of coffee to sip and warm my hands, while I read my devotions. Then I find my pen and write in my journal.

In my journal, I start out with recording the day, the date, the time and the place.  I make some observation about how I feel or record something from the day before that stood out as important.  

And for Lent, I am writing love letters to God, which as I’ve said isn’t as easy as it sounds.


Last week as Lent began I received the ashes on my forehead. The words spoken that day jolted me.

 

And this week, the words, “Repent and believe the gospel,” continue to confront me.

 

I was expecting “ashes to ashes, dust to dust” and instead I was startled by the word, “Repent!” 

And the charge to “Believe the gospel,” initiated a spiritual crisis. Do I really believe the gospel? What does it mean to believe the gospel? Or more accurately, what would my life look like if I took God at His word that I am redeemed and forgiven?

Maybe I wouldn’t reach for the TV remote as often. Maybe I wouldn’t doubt God’s love. Maybe I would be more gracious towards those who disappoint me. Maybe I could stop being so angry. (I made the rash decision to give up anger for Lent. It’s not going so well. I need to get rid of it, but that’s my dilemma, I tend to hoard anger.)
 
Maybe, just, maybe I would get out of bed and greet each new day with joy because Jesus lives and loves!
 
Linking up with:
 
 

 


Posted on by kelrohlf 6