Beauty on the Backroads

Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns

faith & spirituality

When I don't want to dance

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA I’m wrestling with these words.

Or maybe I’m wrestling with God.

Either way, he’s put this verse, or a similar message, in my line of sight more than once recently. And you know what that means, right?

I’d better pay attention.

Here’s the thing, though. These words, they don’t make me happy. They don’t bring me comfort.

Because I feel like God’s dropped the ball. Fight for me? I’m not even sure He remembers who I am right now.

So I’m avoiding Him. Sure, I’m reading my Bible regularly like a good little Christian. And I’m going to church. And I’m praying for my food.

But mostly, I’m escaping into books. Reading about fictional troubles and how the characters overcome gives me a break from my own troubles–the ones I can’t fix.

Silly me, to think that reading a novel would exempt me from messages from God.

Because there it was again. This message–The Lord will fight for you–right in the middle of a really good novel.

How rude.

If it was only the first time I’d seen it, I might dismiss it. But it’s the second time this week. And the third in the last few months. Maybe more.

The message is being delivered, but I’m having trouble accepting it. The Lord is strumming a tune I don’t want to dance to.

I’ve been so confused recently about what we’re supposed to do with the situation we’re in. Sometimes I get the feeling we’re supposed to fix it. To take steps of faith. To move on what we feel is God’s leading even though nothing is clear about that process.

Other times, times like these, I get this message: Wait.

Oh, how I hate waiting.

But here I am. Waiting. And hoping the Lord means what He says. That He’s fighting for us. And that He’ll call us into the battle. To advance at His word and not retreat in fear.

Because those options are equally appealing right now.

Like the Israelites, to whom these words were spoken, I feel trapped between a fearful enemy and an uncrossable sea with no apparent way out.

But God made a way. He opened a path where there wasn’t one before.

This, too, is my hope.

A Sacramental Journey: Review of Sacramental Life by David A. DeSilva

If “liturgy” is a dirty word, this book is for you.

If liturgy is a way of life, this book is for you.

In my Christian journey, I fall somewhere in between on the liturgy scale. I was not raised in a liturgical (or non-liturgical) church, but somewhere along the way, I got the impression that being liturgical was a bad thing.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERARecently, I’ve come to appreciate the beauty and meaning in the liturgy, and the Book of Common Prayer has become a companion to my (mostly) daily spiritual readings. The same friend who gifted a Book of Common Prayer to my husband and me also gave us this book, Sacramental Life by David A. DeSilva. In it, DeSilva explains and personalizes elements of the Book of Common Prayer for the everyday saint, offering daily application of the sacraments.

The author divides the book into four sections: baptism, the eucharist, marriage and death. What surprised me most is the application of all of these sacraments and rituals into all of life. Baptism, for example, is not merely a one-time event but something we live out in our daily walk. And death is not just a reason to grieve lost loved ones but a reminder of our mortality and a call to honor the examples of those who’ve gone before us.

Each chapter (there are 45) ends with an activity or thought-provoking question to cement the lesson. I will confess that I did not take as much time as I would have liked to reflect and/or complete the activity. But this is not a book that will gather much dust on my bookshelf. I will pick it up again soon.

And if you are at all curious about liturgy, Anglicanism and a deeper look at the sacraments, I’d encourage you to pick up Sacramental Life.