Alan Fadling's Blog, page 44

Is God Easy to Live With?

In his book The Root of the Righteous, A. W. Tozer writes, “God is easy to live with.” How does that phrase strike you? Does it sound true? Does it feel right to you?

 

I (Alan) realize that how I feel about that phrase may say more about my image of God than it says about who God really is. There is a young part of me that believes God is impossible to live with. I imagine him with high expectations and great impatience at my slow progress. But is God really like that? Consider the following lines from Psalm 111 from The Message:

 
He’s so personal and holy, worthy of our respect.
The good life begins in the fear of God—
Do that and you’ll know the blessing of God.
His Hallelujah lasts forever! (vv. 9-10)

 

It’s the combination of “personal” and “holy” that tweaks something in me. Part of me expects an “or” there. Personal or holy. But God is both. He draws near to me in love and righteousness. He is perfect and he is near. That’s good news for me.

 

“Father, today my prayer is that you would open my eyes to both your holiness and your intimacy. You are near, even in my shortcomings and line crossings. You are so good in desiring my best and working to that end without wearying. I desire that your holiness would produce in me a holy fear that is the beginning of wisdom. If my heart and mind are driven this way and that by many other fears, I am not really walking the path of wisdom. Wisdom has single vision. Thank you for this generosity. Amen.”

 

Reflection 

How do you feel about drawing near to God these days? Do you feel like he’s easy to live with? Talk with God about the thoughts and feelings that arise for you.

 

Photo by Mohamed Nohassi on Unsplash

Thank You!!!

 

Remembering a Great Man

At least two momentous historical events occurred in 1912. The first, of course, was the sinking of the Titanic. The second was the birth of a baby named Fred Harlan Wheat. And that baby grew up to be, among other things, my (Gem’s) dad.

 

My dad was an “old” dad. I say that because he was 52 when I was born. I realize Janet Jackson had a baby at age 50, so these days it’s not as big a deal, but at that time 52 was definitely on the older side of things. Because of our late start together, Dad died when I was quite young. He succumbed to cancer at age 78. I was only 26.

 

The reality of just how young I was when he died hit home for me a few years ago when our oldest son turned 26. When I looked at him and saw that he was still at the beginning of building his wondrous gift of a life, I realized I had been at my own beginning when I lost my father.

 

My dad died in 1990, and that was one of those “marker years” for me. By that I mean it made a mark on my entire life. That was the year we met four mentors who introduced us to Jesus in a new way through his words in John 15 and the practice of solitude. That was also the year Alan and I perceived a very clear call to our life’s work while at an Urbana conference.

 

It was as though God provided a new place for me to stand and a new way for me to live right in the midst of my dad’s illness and death. The gift of “apart from me you can do nothing” (John 15:5) was potently real as my dad’s body wasted away over the course of six months. It was devastating.

 

Many times since then, at turning points in my adult life, I have regretted that before he died I had not yet become more interested in my dad as a human being. He lived a rich, full life, and I didn’t get a chance to mine it for the gold it contained. My memories of his early-life stories are scattered and treasured.

 

He was a farm boy born in Holstein, Nebraska. He was one of four siblings. He served in the Navy and the Air Force as a mechanic. One of his titles was Master Sergeant. He had a tremendous oval-shaped scar on his leg from a “shrapnel incident.” You could see where they had taken rectangular strips of skin from his other leg to patch his wounded leg. He had survived the Great Depression, World War II, and the Korean War. He had previously battled cancer and won.

 

These are the things I wish I would have asked more questions about. I’ll never know the depths of his personal experiences, and that makes me sad. But I’m thankful for our memories together.

 

Maya Angelou once said, “I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” And this is exactly the most important thing I know about my dad. I may not know all of his stories. I may have missed out on some really wonderful later-in-life conversations. But I will never be without the memory of how he made me feel.

 

My dad was a gentle soul. He had a strong work ethic, holding down a full-time job while also single-handedly tending our six-acre homestead. But in addition to all that, he had a tender heart and a peaceful demeanor. My dad listened to me. He encouraged me. He played with me. He’s the one who taught me how to do cartwheels in the front yard when he was in his early sixties. I always felt safe with my dad, and I knew he would always be there for me.

 

Dad was the one who named me Gem. He gave me the blessing of my name, and because of this I know exactly how he felt about me.

 

I share all of this for a couple reasons:

 

First, I encourage you to be the kind of person someone else thinks of when they read that quote from Maya Angelou. They know how you make them feel—valued, seen, loved.

 

Second, don’t wait to ask questions of your loved ones. Get curious and listen well. Then treasure them even more than you already do.

 

Reflection 

What conversations have you been putting off until “someday”? Why not schedule a time on your calendar for these important interactions.
Who is one person that makes you feel seen, heard, and loved? Take a moment to thank God for them. While you’re at it, you might want to send them a quick note of thanks too.

Appearance Management for the Soul

Doesn’t the title of this post make you cringe? It sure did for me (Alan). But the irony is that it’s not very hard to pretend all is well in my soul when it really isn’t. It’s the sort of thing Jesus pointed out to the Jewish leaders with whom he was often in conflict.

 

“Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You clean the outside of the cup and dish, but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence. Blind Pharisee! First clean the inside of the cup and dish, and then the outside also will be clean.” (Matthew 23:25-26 NIV)

 

Jesus’s “woes” to the Pharisees are the exact opposite of his “blesseds” to the crowds. And this woe in particular regards our tendency to manage our appearance in front of others. When we focus our attention on how we appear, managing our visible behavior at the cost of inward honesty, we are dooming ourselves to the split personality of hypocrisy. At times I have given far too much attention to what is happening on the outside of my life at the expense of what is actually going on inside.

 

Recently I was discussing this with a person I counsel. He shared that a ministry colleague believed spiritual formation was little more than a bunch of self-indulgent navel-gazing that had nothing to do with the important realities of ministry. And some of it probably is.

 

But I can easily imagine a Pharisee saying something like that in Jesus’s day. But Jesus urges them to first address their hearts and their bent desires. If they are full of greed and self-indulgence on the inside, it’s only a matter of time before that flows over into their behavior, even if at first it’s just in their hidden private lives.

 

Desires distanced from God cannot be satisfied, and all our efforts to that end are subject to the inevitable law of diminishing returns. There will come a moment of sloppiness or tiredness when those hidden cravings erupt in the presence of others.

 

If we first give our attention to outward appearances, it’s like mopping up a wet bathroom floor and noticing that it’s still wet when we’re done. We never look around to notice that the toilet is overflowing. Fix the overflowing toilet. Then mop the floor. First address the source of our messiness, then the outside will really take care of itself. Staring at the outward causes us to be blind to the inward.

 

Reflection 

In what ways do you find yourself managing how others see you? Does it help? What might that orientation cost you? What would it look like to invest that attention and energy in cooperating with how Jesus wants to make you whole inside?

What Will You Leave Behind?

A few years ago I (Gem) attended an estate sale with one of my friends. Having checked out the contents online, we were excited about the deals we would find there. We were in line with almost a hundred other people, all waiting to go on a treasure hunt. In fact, we were numbers 83 and 84 on the list.

 

After waiting for about half an hour, it was our turn to enter. I headed to the kitchen, where I milled about with other interested parties. As I made my way back toward the living room and down the hallway toward the bedrooms, I was struck with a sinking realization: someone had recently died.

 

Walking down the hallway, I began to feel a little odd. I hadn’t allowed myself to consider the deeper meaning behind an estate sale. Someone is selling the belongings of a person who passed away. I then thought to myself, “This is all that’s left? You’re here and then you’re gone and all that’s left are your belongings?”

 

I hadn’t known the woman who lived there (I saw only female clothing and belongings), but I imagine she had a web of relationships. She must have had an impact on the people around her. She likely left a meaningful legacy. I was one of dozens of strangers who had come to purchase her leftover belongings at a discount, but the people who knew her carry her true essence in their hearts.

 

As I type this post, I’m realizing that so far it’s a real downer. Sorry about that. However, I want to help us get in touch with the nature of our presence in this world. I want us to consider our impact and what we might leave behind.

 

It got me thinking about our trip to Israel a few years ago. We joined in on a tour and had an amazing time. There are always archaeological digs going on over there as experts learn new things about people from history. But when you think about it, we were mostly perusing ruins--places where people had lived and died.

 

On one of those tour days we visited yet another site filled with more monochrome remnants of another moment from history. We even had to ride a high-wire tram to get there. But at the top we found much more than a pile of rock and stone. It was Masada.

 

If you don’t know the story, click this Masada link and read a bit. Spoiler alert: it ends with hundreds of people committing mass suicide, but it’s an astounding tale of the struggle for freedom from oppression.

 

At each location on the tour, a guide told about the inhabitants based on the structures and artifacts they left behind. What looked like a pile of rocks was the former armory. Archaeologists knew this because thousands of arrowheads had been found in that area.

 

As our tour guide talked, my mind wandered a bit and I began to wonder…if someone came to my house a thousand years from now, what discernible artifacts might they find among the rubble? And maybe more important, what would they think of me based on what they found? What would they deduce from my belongings?

 

Now, I don’t have a bunch of amazing things in my home, but it really is the ordinary, day-to-day stuff that tells people how I live. If this stuff were miraculously preserved—my books, my music collection, my family photos, computers (and their contents), my closet, kitchen gadgets—what would it all say about me?  What would people think was important to me?

 

It’s a question worth pondering. What would people from the future know about you from a review of your belongings?

 

Reflection 

What if the artifacts of your soul could be preserved?
What if a thousand years from now people could find remnants of your feelings, your thoughts, your beliefs, and the behaviors that sprang from those inner places?
What would people learn about you from the history of your actual life?
What would they determine was important to you?

 

I may not know what kind of legacy the woman from that estate sale left, but I do have a say in what I will leave behind. And so do you.

A New Year Coming

As we live in the light of Christmas and anticipate a new year before us, Gem and I send along our prayer that you’ll sense a freshness of God’s presence with you. May you be encouraged by God’s lasting encouragement. May you experience peace that displaces anxiety. May you know the love of God that drives out every fear.

 

We are grateful to be sharing this journey with you,

 

Alan & Gem

ICDT #18: Take Time to Reflect

 

Well, we’ve made it through 2021. I don’t know about you, but this year seemed to fly by compared to 2020. Time is funny, isn’t it. It’s actually moving along at the same pace all the time, and yet our perception of it shifts.

We haven’t figured out how to stop time…yet, but I’d like to offer a practice that can help you capture more meaning out of the time you have. This is a great end of the year process and it’s very simple.

A few years ago I was listening to an interview with public radio personality, Ira Glass. He was talking about the process of good storytelling. And it all came down to two words:

ACTION and REFLECTION

This makes sense, right? We do something and then we reflect on it. We act and then we ponder the action’s meaning. But here’s the thing…we aren’t a very reflective society and most of the time reflection falls by the wayside.

Merry Christmas from Alan and Gem

Merry Christmas from Unhurried Living!

 

We pray these words of encouragement and blessing from The Message for you and your loved ones:

 

“I want you woven into a tapestry of love, in touch with everything there is to know of God. Then you will have minds confident and at rest, focused on Christ, God’s great mystery. All the richest treasures of wisdom and knowledge are embedded in that mystery and nowhere else. And we’ve been shown the mystery!” (Colossians 2:2-3)

 

“For a child has been born—for us! The gift of a son—for us! He’ll take over the running of the world. His names will be: Amazing Counselor, Strong God, Eternal Father, Prince of Wholeness. His ruling authority will grow, and there’ll be no limits to the wholeness he brings.” (Isaiah 9:6-7)

 

Merry Christmas!
Alan & Gem Fadling

ICDT #17: Love: The Ocean of God's Love

 

Love is our focus as this is now the fourth week of Advent. I trust over the course of our Advent weeks together you have enjoyed sinking further into the love of God, the grace of Jesus and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit. Is your heart a little more ready to celebrate the birth of Jesus?

 

Today I simply invite you to enjoy another imaginative prayer. We’re going to picture ourselves at the beach, my favorite place. And we’re going to engage the invitation to drink deeply of God’s all-encompassing love.

Less Information, More Formation

I (Alan) have a lot of opportunities to communicate with leaders through coaching, training, speaking at retreats, and providing spiritual direction. The longer I do this sort of work, the stronger my conviction grows that in many settings, learners today are so supersaturated with information that a high-velocity, high-density teaching approach is ultimately counter-formational.

 

Others may disagree. I know this isn’t the conventional wisdom or the assumed “best practice” out there. But my experience, especially in the context of training leaders, supports the wisdom of a “less is more” approach. More space for reflection, interaction, and practice around less content (albeit strategic, well-focused content) helps the teaching take root and grow. Otherwise it can be like pouring more water on supersaturated ground that cannot soak in anymore.

 

Think of times when you’ve attended a conference with multiple sessions. Perhaps you took copious notes. How often have you gone back to review them after you got back to your busy life? I must admit that review has been rare for me. I’ve already moved on to absorbing yet more information that is coming my way.

 

I fear sometimes that the density and intensity of the information we try to pass along in our teaching may actually be training people to be comfortable living with an immense amount of undigested insight that never gets put into practice. That’s not what we’re aiming at, is it?

 

Reflection

What is one good insight God has given you recently through a sermon, a book you’ve read, or a podcast you’ve listened to?
How might you try on that insight through practice? Refresh that insight in your own soul by sharing it with a friend who needs encouragement.

 

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