Heather Holleman's Blog, page 67

All the Prayers

I loved the sermon this morning on cultivating a “culture of prayer” within our church. The pastor talked about fostering this culture first in our own hearts.

I love thinking about cultivating and promoting a culture of prayer in my life and in my family culture. A family culture of prayer means we talk to God regularly, openly, and joyfully. Can you imagine building a family like this? How wonderful! Think of it:

We pray “without ceasing” (1 Thessalonians 5:17); we pray when we feel anxious about anything (Philippians 4:6); we devote ourselves to prayer (Colossians 4:2); we pray in the Spirit “on all occasions” (Ephesians 6:18). We pray when we don’t know what to do. We pray when someone is sick (James 5:14-16). We pray for wisdom and for the fruit of the Spirit to grow in us. We pray when we’re celebrating, when we’re sad, and when we’re lonely. We pray because God is near, He hears us, and He responds. He is our “ever-present help in time of need” (Psalm 46:1).

I love recording our prayers and God’s response to them. I love praise, confession, thanksgiving, and asking. I love creating a culture of prayer. We can start small with prayers for what’s concerning us as we sit down to dinner. We can pray before we leave for our day. We can pray in the afternoon for strength for the evening’s work. Before we know it, we will have built a family culture of prayer.

 

Most Marvelous Riches

Last night, around 8:00 PM, my daughter and I took our neighborhood walk. I unzipped my coat and took off my winter hat to enjoy the cool 50 degree evening. The moon shone so brightly that we could see clearly, but it was still dark enough that the entire walk felt bathed in silverly light. As we approached our favorite part of the walk (the one where a certain black cat always comes to meet us), my daughter whispered and pointed.

Up ahead, we saw the glowing eyes of at least seven beautiful and majestic deer crossing the neighborhood streets to return to the forest. We could hear the patter of their deer hooves and the rustle of leaves and branches as they walked. We checked the time. We’ll return to observe their crossing in nights to come. We stood in silence as the black cat circled our feet. He sat beside us to watch the deer.

We stopped to gaze at the moon and stars, and I learned how to take pictures of the moon with my phone.

I like to remember that what invites awe into the heart costs nothing. Nature’s riches pour down and cross silently across our path.

Constant Vigilance

Certain people (like me!) do not have the luxury of doing whatever they please. There’s always a cost to pay for anything that tips us into anxiety or depression. Managing mental health is a full-time job for some of us, and when we see it that way, we remember to organize our day and our choices to support well-being. I always listen to my friends as they share wisdom gained from their hidden health struggles–whether autoimmune diseases, chronic pain, or anything keeping them discouraged about their health. My friends describe their “bone crushing fatigue” that prevents them from moving their bodies and what it takes for them to attempt to exercise. Nobody understands, and they cannot explain it to others well.

We talk, then, of the daily work of living.

My friends often talk about the constant vigilance required in our lives, for example, to keep anxiety and depression at bay. You’re not alone! We are doing this together! It is the hardest work of our lives, mostly misunderstood, and often so discouraging we wonder how to keep up the work of it. Constant vigilance for you and me means a day built around good nutrition, sleep, worship, exercise, Bible reading, prayer, gratitude, service to others, updated bloodwork, high boundaries to protect energy, and strategic choices every day to invest in our brain health. We keep trying. We keep seeking. We don’t give into despair.

I pray daily that God strengthens us in our inner being and guides us along the paths of peace and joy. I pray He renews our minds. And until we’re made new in eternity, we stay constantly vigilant.

Living Like a Levite

I often think about 1 Peter 2:9 and our new job as being part of the “royal priesthood.” Sometimes I tell myself to live like a Levite–the people described as part of the priesthood in the Bible.

I remember the struggle in my heart when my husband and I first served as missionaries for Cru. Raising support and living an entirely different kind of life seemed so odd, so countercultural, and so difficult.

My friend told me to see myself like a Levite and part of a priesthood (best described in the book of Numbers) who had no inheritance but would forever rely on the Lord and the tithes of the people. That helped me understand a different way to live: Just as the Lord would be the Levites’ treasured possession—not land, wealth, promised inheritances, or any of the normal things one might accumulate in life–I could live a different way with God’s strength. The Lord Himself was everything to the Levites; I wanted to live like a Levite.

I often think about this special category of people because, in Christ, we are all now part of this royal priesthood of people. We’ve been given a new designation in Christ, but what does it mean? Are we to think of living more like Levites?

When Peter wrote that we are part of this new, royal priesthood, I imagine that the readers would understand a new, countercultural way of living. Levites lived lives of dependence, trust, worship, and devotion. They prayed, they helped others learn God’s word, they blessed, and they enabled others to worship. They held possessions loosely. They had no earthly inheritance. The Lord was their inheritance. It never seems sad or unfortunate when you read about the Levites in the Bible. Instead, you sense the honor of it all and how they Levites received the best portion of everything. They had nothing but possessed all.

I remember to live like a Levite today.

A Beautiful Snowfall

Even after a day of balmy 60 degree weather—with daffodils poking through the black earth—we know in Pennsylvania to expect a few more weeks of snow.

And the snow indeed came this morning! Here is the view from my back window:

The Joys of Seeds

It’s that time of year again! We started our seeds in the windowsill to plant at the end of May. It’s a little early, but we have some new plants we’re trying out (and we couldn’t wait!). Garlic. Onions. A fig tree. A peach tree. Baby watermelons. Baby pumpkins. 

We love watching things grow. I know it’s an odd trait that I delight in gathering fruit tree pits to try to grow them. After storing a peach pit in the refrigerator for several months, you have to crack a peach pit open to get the seed, and then you put it under a moist paper towel. In a few days, you’ll see it start to grow! My peach pit will hopefully turn into a beautiful peach tree alongside the plum trees. These things take lots of time—like 3-5 years—but gardening teaches me patience.

Are you as excited as I am to see if I’ll have plums this year? Well, if not, I have enough excitement for the both of us.

A Verse I’m Thinking About

This morning, I thought carefully about Paul’s words in Acts 20:22-24. He writes, “And now, compelled by the Spirit, I am going to Jerusalem, not knowing what will happen to me there. I only know that in every city the Holy Spirit warns me that prison and hardships are facing me. However, I consider my life worth nothing to me; my only aim is to finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me—the task of testifying to the good news of God’s grace.” 

Can you imagine coming to the place in your life where you can live compelled by the Spirit to enter hardship? Where you can say that your life is worth nothing to you? That your only aim is to finish the work God has given to you to tell others about Jesus?

I believe this wonderful mission statement of Paul’s reflects the goal of our sanctification–to become like Jesus in His willingness to suffer, His full surrender to God’s will to lay down His life, and His focus to keep as His singular aim to seek and save the lost.

For Every Moment

I always look for little blessings from God whenever I travel. The practice of hunting for blessings takes my mind off the stresses of airports and multiple flights. Today, I marveled that a wonderful college student who attended the conference was booked on my same flight. We enjoyed the same ride to the airport, a great coffee and conversation while we waited to board, and the kind of chat that made the time fly.

It gets better: It wasn’t just the same flight. The same row! And a kind man who heard us yammering away as he sat between us asked if we wanted to trade seats to be right next to each other.

It doesn’t feel like a long travel day when you have a friend sent as a blessing.

A Little Snowshoeing

I’m speaking at Camp of the Woods in New York and joined in the winter activities! I went snowshoeing for the first time in my life.

Everything a Teacher

I recently heard a wise woman express gratitude for a new difficulty in her life. She said, “I haven’t had a hardship in a while. I’m grateful. Pain in a good teacher.”

She said this weeks ago, and I can’t get the idea out of my mind that everything can be a good teacher in our lives if we allow it.

It’s absolutely true. Painful things have taught me the most precious things of all: dependence on Jesus, inner strength, and joy that isn’t dependent on circumstances. I don’t enjoy pain. And sometimes the wisdom doesn’t come for decades. But today I remember that pain is a good teacher.