The Word Weaver
Inviting you to know & embrace Jesus Christ
Deb Weaver
by The Word Weaver, Deb on November 1st, 2017

​Are you thirsty? 

Are you drawn to the same old wells?  

Do you gulp and guzzle only to leave with nagging thirst? 

Me too.  Please join me for this month's prayer theme.
​Jesus is Living Water.  He’s promised us fresh, flowing sustenance in abundance.  Cleansing, nourishing, transforming, living water.  He alone satisfies.

We can KNOW this is true.  We can EXPERIENCE the deep satisfaction of allowing God’s presence to be our enough.

And then we can also easily FORGET.  We get into the habit of accepting and seeking empty calorie refreshment that fails to refresh us.

Or worse, we can REJECT this vital source of soul quenching nourishment. This happens more often than we admit.

Listen:

​Jeremiah 2:13 (NIV),My people have committed two sins: They have forsaken me, the spring of living water, and have dug their own cisterns, broken cisterns that cannot hold water.

Do you hear the brokenhearted longing of God in those words?  He offers us life-giving, life-sustaining help and hope.  Instead, we crawl away from Him and dig in the dirt hoping to find something, anything to fill us.  We’re dangerously dehydrated and only inches from rescue and life. 

Oh, how our precious, Almighty God yearns for us to come to Him.  To reach out with open hearts and arms toward His Word, His Presence, His Spirit.  To repeatedly run to Him, the Living Water. 

Yet, too often, we refuse.  We stubbornly determine to quench our own thirsts because we don’t trust nor want God to alleviate them.

This verse is not just a warning to strangers to the gospel.  God is cautioning His peopleYou and me.

We have deep, genuine lack.  We are thirsty people.  Our cravings—whatever they may be—are rooted in our spiritual needs.  We’ve been created with essential, universal desires that ONLY God, our Creator and Savior, can truly supply.

God is our greatest source of life, joy, and fulfillment.  This truth is stated over and over in the Scriptures.

Psalm 81:10  “I am the LORD your God, who brought you up out of Egypt. Open wide your mouth and I will fill it.” (NIV)

Psalm 42: 1-2 “As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for You, O God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God.  When can I go and meet with God?”  (NIV)

The Message translation renders those verses in chapter forty-two this way:  “A white-tailed deer drinks from the creek; I want to drink God, deep draughts of God.  I’m thirsty for God-alive.” 

YES! wells up deep from within me.  Yes, I want more of God’s presence, thoughts, and words.  Yes, I want the solace of Him being near.  He is nearby—all around and within those who know Jesus.  And, in Him, I find everything I thirst for, everything I need. When I forsake my worn out, empty, sour cisterns and open my mouth, I find anew that He is enough.  He is plenty.  He is sufficient.  He is abundant. And, as a result of allowing Him to fill me, I am most myself, most joyful, most satiated. 

Honestly?  Even though He is what we absolutely and ultimately need, sometimes it doesn’t feel as satisfying or even desirable in the moment of crisis.  So I find that when I’m most needy, I have a crucial choice to make.

A recent example:

​While I was working on this post, I experienced a disappointment.  I received a phone call that was a refusal of my services.  The person on the phone was polite and kind; and though I knew that the rejection was not personal, it felt that way.  It was a minor situation on a simple Tuesday morning, but suddenly I had a major emotional crisis churning within me. Instantly, I was dehydrated, choking on desert dust, staggering in fear, and searching for significance. 

I felt ‘less than’.  Insecurity flooded me.  Shame shouted her oft-repeated lies, “See.  You don’t have value.  No one cares what you know about God. No one wants to attend an event where you speak. No one really wants to read what you write.  You should just quietly go on your way.” 

I desired and needed comfort, reassurance, and encouragement.

Here's what I really wanted to do:

​Rush to the cupboard where I keep chocolate. 

Close the computer and take a long winter’s nap. 

Pop onto Facebook where I’m known and appreciated and where I can waste hours in what seems like minutes.

Turn on a movie channel and hide in a happily-ever-after.  

Slug back enough sodas that I’d awaken with a sugar-induced hangover tomorrow. 

Start a new project from my perpetual to-do list so that, in my busyness, I could run away and still feel productive. 

These are my empty wells, the activities whose paths are familiar and well-rutted.  Sipping from them occasionally is an okay, even enjoyable, thing when I seek relaxation.  But, when I am thirsty and desperate, they are poisonous places. 

Intoxicating, soothing, but toxic, idolatrous danger zones.
 

Here's what I did instead:

​I sat with the feelings before the Lord.  I cried out to Him.  Plaintively. Honestly. The lies I was feeling. The insignificance I was fearing.  I asked Him to press in with peace and perspective.  

The result:

​He responded to my cry.  He reminded me of His truth that I had just read hours earlier.  I don’t have to make something of my life.  He is the One who fulfills His purposes for my life. (Psalm 57: 2)  I am being faithful to what He’s wired me to do and to His voice of guidance.  He is responsible for the result.

And while I’m not splashing around in all-out Happy in this moment, I am immersed in the plentiful and precious presence of the Living God, and I am okay.

Actually, I more than okay.  I’m content and satisfied.  With Him at my side, I’m still plugging away in my calling to communicate His grace, love, and truth.  Partaking of His comfort and presence.  Soaking in His Word, and sensing His pleasure that I came to Him in my need.

Christ Jesus is quenching my thirst.  Today.  Now.  In my disappointments. In my fears.  In my doubts.  In my simple days and burgeoning hopes.  He is enough. 

What about you?

​Have you tried to tranquilize yourself against your pain?  Most likely, you’ve frequented your own broken, empty, bitter wells.  Perhaps, like me, you’ve tried to find fulfillment in perfectionism, people-pleasing, busyness, addictions, or mindless activity.  Or perhaps your cisterns are dug in the soil of isolation, bitterness, apathy, unforgiveness, pornography, explosive anger, worry, or relationships. 

Maybe your particular wells are not even mentioned here.  Can you name them?  Before we can abandon them, it’s important that we first begin to recognize them.

It’s not enough to know that we’re thirsty.  We also need to become aware of our symptoms and the triggers that activate them.  My warning signs include: sudden spikes in strong emotion or numbed emotion accompanied by prolonged mindless activities. Yours may be different.  We need to pay attention. And then we need to take action.

Let's heed caution:

​Dehydration is a serious matter.  If we ignore our legitimate thirsts for too long, we may end up desperately diving into scum-covered ponds in which we never, ever intended or wanted to find ourselves. 

Destructive, addictive habits.  Unhealthy relationships that do not honor God. Unfulfilling, disappointing days, months, or decades.  A mire of hopelessness.  Death can result. 

So, before we take another soured sip from splintered cisterns, let’s REPENT and RETURN to God, the Source of our everything. 

If you are willing, please join me this month in asking Him to quench our thirst.  He longs to do so.

Let's Pray:

​Heavenly Father,

We have hurt you, and we have hurt ourselves in our pursuit to satisfy our hearts’ longings.  We have forsaken you.  Please forgive us.

We don’t want to merely admit our wrongdoing, our wrong thinking.  We don’t want to repeat this disastrous pattern.  We want to repent and return to You.  We declare that nothing and no one on this earth can satisfy us.  Only You, God, only You. 

In the days ahead, please reveal the broken, poisonous wells which we’re accustomed to seeking.  It’s taken a long time to dig them; may we not give up when victory isn’t instantaneous.  Give us the strength and determination to abandon them—no matter how long or how many attempts it takes to reject them and to turn to You.  

Remind us in this winding, often painful process, that Your arms of grace and mercy are open wide.  You love us.  You long for us.  You stand willing and waiting to become our sufficient heart’s desire.  To welcome us Home in You. 

Teach us to run repeatedly to You, our Living Water, whenever we face need or desire.  Immerse us in Your Word and in Your presence.  Begin to transform us from the inside out as we walk with You. 

May we come daily with our mouths open wide: asking You to meet our truest needs, trusting You to fulfill Your promises, and expecting You to satisfy us. 

You are enough! By Your power, may we live like it!

In the name of our precious Savior and Your Son, Jesus Christ,
Amen.

by The Word Weaver, Deb on September 30th, 2017

​“Yeah, yeah, I know.”  

But do I? 

It’s easy to forget that there are various stages and depths of knowing something.  I'm tempted to respond to important parts of life as if I’ve already been there, done this, or know that.  When I react in those ways, I lose out on the rich process of truly, experientially knowing more, wanting to know more.  Of thirsting for more.  And then of being satiated by more.  

Let's consider an example:

​I may have a mental understanding of a large body of water like one of the Great Lakes or the ocean.  I could read about it, view photos of it, or appreciate someone else’s stories about it; thereby mentally knowing about it.  

But...

​It’s an entirely different kind of knowing, though, if I’ve had this experience in Lake Michigan:   

It’s early June and the water temperature is just above freezing. There are no icebergs in sight though it feels like there should be. I work up the courage to dip my toes into the surf.  A wave splashes me, and I squeal.  I wade out further, feeling my knees go numb.

I scan the horizon, in awe of the majesty and of not being able to see the other side of land.  Blue beauty as far as I can see. 

Then I watch a wave approaching.  It’s impressive in size, but I’m sure I can handle it.  I brace my feet in the sand. It increases in size and power.
Before I understand what is actually happening, the wave has toppled and flipped me underneath the surf.  My body is slammed to the gritty bottom of the lake before it floats back to the surface. 



​(Photo courtesy of Andrea Mosley, UpNorth Crazy Photography.  It's a gorgeous shot of the icy waves at Grand Marias, Lake Superior)

I find my footing and emerge soaked and sputtering. 

Oh, so THAT’S what swimming in the Great Lakes is like!  Now, I know and understand more.

​Experiential knowledge surpasses surface knowledge.  Every time.  Scripture tells us this too.  
​Consider Ephesians 3: 16-19-- "I pray that out of His glorious riches He may strengthen you with power through His Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God." (NIV)  

Indwelling
Being rooted & established
Wielding power
Grasping
Knowing

These phrases denote personal, experiential learning and growing.  We can't just hear about God's love and the relationship He invites us into.  We must finger these truths ourselves.  They must be driven down into our being through the work of God in our experiences and responses. 

God longs for us to know--to really know--Him for ourselves.  
​On one level, I've known for most of my life that God loves me.  I’ve sung it since I was little,  “Jesus Loves Me, This I Know.”  People have reminded me of it throughout life.  I’ve even read it over and over in the Bible.

It’s taken a long time, however, to begin to experientially and deeply grasp—to really know for myself—that God loves me.  But He really does.  Not just when I’m doing the good stuff.  Not in spite of the crappy stuff.  All the time.

He. Loves. Me. 

He gets a kick out of me!  Out of you! 

I’m sputtering in the wonder of it! 

And I want to venture out further into the depths of His great and everlasting presence to experience it more because there’s so much more that He wants to show me.  I want to know Him more.

Don’t you? 

Then please join me this coming month, praying that we not only understand but also experience the love of God more. 

Heavenly Father,

Your love encompasses far more than we may ever understand.  You love us unconditionally, undeservingly, unchangingly.  You love us completely, in full knowledge of who we are, what we have done, and what we’ve left undone.  Your great love changes our everything. 

Open our eyes to it.  Immerse us in it.  Flush out the areas of shame and sin that keep us from You.  Show us areas where we’re grasping things that cannot possibly fill us and we're casting aside Your love.  Pour Your healing light and love into our deepest crevices and worst fears.  Transform our hearts, our countenances, our lives.

May we recognize, accept, and revel in Your personal, powerful love.  May we begin to deeply believe what Your Word tells us about it.  May we lift our eyes and hearts, humbly stepping forward with open arms to fully receive it.  

And as Your fullness and the wholeness of Your presence, love, grace, and truth fill us, may we then sincerely share, out of the overflow of our hearts, this amazing Love with everyone in whose path we step. 

In the precious Name of our Savior, Your Son Jesus,

Amen. 

by The Word Weaver, Deb on September 21st, 2017

​The thought of superpowers thrill me.  I’m not talking about web-slinging or flying at hyper speed (although I’d absolutely treasure either of those abilities!)  I’m referring to those incredible, unique gifts that impact the world for good in small or in big ways.  We all have them whether we recognize them yet or not. 

(I didn’t recognize mine for a long, long time.  If you don’t know your superpower yet, let me encourage you.  You will discover it.  Keep showing up to your life, learning and growing, and I promise you will eventually begin to see and embrace your unique skill.)

I have one.  Are you ready for it?

I see people.

That’s it.  No, seriously.  It’s one of my purest contributions to this world.

At first glance, this might seem insignificant.  You might even be thinking, “Big deal.  Most people can see.”

          But do they?

When I look around, I perceive two predominant tendencies in our culture:
  • People silently (&/or not so silently) screaming—desperate to be seen—to be noticed and recognized for who they are, what they feel and experience, and how significant they are

OR
  • Individuals skirting the edges, avoiding eye contact and hiding—terrified someone will actually look closely enough to see them, their pain, their weaknesses, their fears, or even their strengths.

The world is used to not being seen. 

And it’s difficult for us to pay attention and actually see others.  I get it.  It’s scary to look out and receive the raw messages that people unconsciously telegraph.  Many times it’s easier and feels safer to close your eyes and keep striding past rather than create connection. 

Many things prevent our sight—fear, anxiety, preoccupation, crazy schedules, the rapid pace of life, exhaustion, heavy responsibilities, our own pain and needs, anger, bitterness, depression, awkwardness, apathy, or the cacophony that constantly surrounds modern life—all of these things can blind us. 

 So, honestly, I believe that seeing—really seeing—is a rare and sacred gift.  

​Perhaps I see others because I know what invisibility feels like.  It has been an enduring theme in my life. 

I grew up a watcher.  I was quiet and, for the most part, happily blended into most backgrounds. My second grade teacher warned that my “extreme shyness would severely inhibit me throughout life.”  At the Halloween party, the third grade teacher told my Mom she often forgot I was there.  Daily during seventh grade, in the crowded hallways of our middle school, I fervently wished to become invisible. 

Early when I was in high school, my Mom had a paralyzing stroke and had to relearn basic skills.  Many months later as she held onto my arm, slowly walking down the street, she expressed her great emotional pain and overwhelming fear that her disabilities were glaring and were all anyone else could see of her.  
Terrified that she had irrevocably become invisible.

These painful experiences--and the isolation they triggered--shaped me with sensitivity and compassion.  This perspective alerts me to the body language, tone of voice, and feelings of others.  
Instinctively, I’m able to read between the lines and to see what one may be unable to speak aloud.  I see those who feel invisible and those who wish they were invisible. 

It’s forged a deep passion within me to notice others and communicate with them in ways that underscore that they are seen, welcome, included, appreciated, and honored.
It’s my gift to the world around me.
 

So imagine my surprise...

​Yes, imagine my surprise when I realized ​that I had faded into invisibility. 

It happened subtly, over time.  
Oh,  I wasn’t completely transparent, but I could no longer see myself wholly or accurately. 

I could clearly still see my failures; those were hard to overlook.  I had wrestled enough with shame and regret over the years that I didn’t need to pinch myself in order to know that I was still here. 

Most vividly I saw those “nice, responsible girl” qualities that I and others had come to expect from me.  Though these wonderful qualities are definitely part of my personality, they’re only a part of me. When they became my focus, I faded away.
 
The most important, essential parts—those parts that make me wholly me—things like creativity, pondering in solitude, laughing aloud, playfulness, being a noticer and worshiper of God—must stay clearly in focus or I lose my vital significance and perspective.
​The journey back to 20/20 vision has been long and winding, full of stops and starts.

It takes time to discover who you are in a new season.  To focus on new possibilities.  To adjust to the new prescription lenses. 

I’ve begun to really see myself again and to discover that I like being me!  My skin finally fits! And there’s room to grow!

Which brings me to the topic that the title of this post suggested:   

A much-needed makeover...

​The night before I was scheduled to get a haircut with a new stylist, I read portions from Staging Your Comeback ~ A Complete Beauty Revival for Women Over 45
​by Christopher Hopkins. 

Hopkins posed an important question:  “If you could list five qualities you’d want someone to know about you, what would they be?”   In the quiet, soothing space of my home office, the question resonated and reverberated within me as I considered the answer. Shortly later, I settled on my list of what I value and know to be true.

In another chapter, he introduced a quiz that helped me understand my basic styles and the words to communicate my needs to a hairstylist. I discovered I gravitate toward Casual-Romantic. 

Had I not read these chapters, I’d have showed the stylist a folder of pictures and probably would have walked away with a decent cut.  Instead I entered with information and confidence, and I floated home with a precious gift.

As Kalla, manager and stylist at NewStyle Salon in De Pere, WI seated me, we smiled and made brief eye contact.  Then I took a deep breath and said,

“I need you to know these important characteristics about me: 
I am friendly, approachable, and kind.  I live with a sense of wonder and gentle fun. 

Some words that fit my style include:  comfortable, down-to-earth, easy care, soft, charming, and pretty."
 
If she was surprised by my lists, she didn’t show it.  I felt safe; Kalla was listening, understanding, and tracking with me.  Her open response enabled me to dare even further. 
 
With tears crowding the corners of my eyes, I offered these naked truths: 
  • How I was emerging from a long decade of ignoring myself.  Of questioning myself.  Of hiding from people behind helpfulness, cheerfulness, and busyness. 

  • How the shift in roles from Hands-on Mom to Empty Nest Mom has been an intense, lonely, emotionally-upheaving, rocky transition. How God is transforming me from the inside out during this hard, necessary, significant journey of discovery.

  • How I’m finally cherishing who I am, not just what I do.  How I’m valuing and expressing my thoughts, feelings, experiences, desires, and preferences.

  • How I’m learning that when I feed my soul and heart with rest and creativity, I’m better equipped to feed others.  How much happier I’ve become as a result.

  • How I’m emerging from the struggle in passionate, strong, beautiful ways.

  • And lastly, how I now love my skin but hate my hair.  How keenly I wanted them to match.

Kalla tenderly peered behind the heavy, outdated, unevenly-colored curtain of hair I was sitting behind, and she saw me. 

She really saw me. 

Then with tenderness and skill, she clipped away the layers that no longer fit and found a way to help me express my real inner self to the outer world. 
​Sometimes a haircut is just a haircut. 

But sometimes--in the right hands and with the sacred, supernatural gift of sight--a haircut is MUCH, MUCH more than just a haircut. 

Sometimes it’s a celebration unveiling hard-won victory and inner radiance.  
I am profoundly grateful.

by The Word Weaver, Deb on August 1st, 2016

​The malignancy, Sin, poisons within earth’s inhabitants,
Nature infecting,
Communion corroding,
Identity devouring.
My spirit trembles in the desolation,
And so I pray
Bemoaning the Light.
 
The sword, Death, pierces across earth’s core,
Betrayal twisting,
Soul severing,
Agony decimating.
My spirit trembles in the horror,
And so I pray
Gasping for Light.
 
That fire, Pain, ravages throughout earth’s depths,
Insides recoiling,
Isolation igniting,
Fear engulfing.
My spirit trembles in the wreckage,
And so I pray
Searching for Light.
 
His sacrifice, Blood, releases from earth’s curse,
Wrath satiating,
Salvation securing,
Forgiveness liberating.
My spirit trembles in the mercy,
And so I pray
Acknowledging the Light.
 
The transplant, Grace, regenerates within earth’s essence,
Heart tranforming,
Relationship restoring,
Peace empowering.
My spirit trembles in the wonder,
And so I pray
Receiving the Light.
 
The bridge, Truth, spans across earth’s ends,
Belief undergirding,
Safety securing,
Power enduring.
My spirit trembles in the holiness,
And so I pray
Cupping the Light.
 
Our hope, Life, shimmers beyond earth’s horizon,
Love enveloping,
Compassion conveying,
Purpose radiating.
My spirit trembles in the beauty,
And so I pray
Extending the Light.

by The Word Weaver, Deb on May 11th, 2016

​God has an effective way of teaching me.  Ever since Jesus Christ gave me the gift of salvation when I was eighteen, He’s revealed different facets of the same truths over and over to me through different avenues.  He knows I’m hardheaded and need to be confronted by principles a number of times before they begin to sink into my brain or impact my behavior. 

Over a period of time, these individual pieces layer and fit together in broader ways that finally make sense to me.  I call it dove-tailing, and I’m ever so grateful that He patiently teaches me in this way. 

Let me share some significant quotes from the books influencing my thoughts these days. I’m thankful for the accompaniment of these fellow faith travelers.
​Last autumn, long before I realized how tired, frenzied, and dry I had become, I read Laura Boggess’ experiences in Playdates with God: “We are stretched thin—to the point of translucence. Hold me up to the light, and I will disappear. All you will see are the things I do. I need more Sabbath keeping than moments snatched here and there. Those short patches of peace have begun to feel like stealing time. So I let the Sabbath moments graduate into longer breadths of time. Once a week, I schedule a regular playdate with God. It is a deliberate time of slowing down, a time to focus on the One I love. When I schedule the time, the moments are not rushed. Rather, they advance slowly as I tune my senses to every detail. Even the way I breathe changes. The playdates I keep have become my antidote to the frenzy of time stretching.” (p. 167-8)

Logan Wolfram challenged me to live with less tight-fisted controlling of a faith GPS and more faithful following of the Map Maker in her book, Curious Faith: “We may think we’re on one road doing one thing. We allow outside circumstances to tell us who we are and define our purpose and value. But, maybe God stops us dead in our tracks, removes our ability to see where we’re headed and tells us to walk a ways farther with no clue where we’re headed. Maybe, just maybe, we get over ourselves because God wants to take us to a new place, with a new name, and a new purpose that we won’t know until we get wherever it is that He is leading.  The identity that the Lord had for me is clear, even if His plans for my life aren’t. He calls me by name, redeems the regrettable in my life, and gives me new purpose.”  (p. 54)

I’ve found direction for my soul in greater trust in and intimacy with God Almighty as I’ve soaked in His Word and as I’ve journaled my heart before Him. 

Secrets of the Secret Place by Bob Sorge has been an invaluable tool in this process.  It’s gotten so heavily underlined it makes me think of the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. “…During crisis seasons, the secret place becomes our source of survival as we come aside to cling to Him and cry out for help…There are times when my soul is being blown about with winds, and I don’t even understand the nature of the warfare…But I’ll find myself caught up in a swirl of emotions and uncertainties, and I won’t know what to do next.  The only thing I know to do in those times is to get away to the secret place, tremble before Him in my vulnerability, and cling to Him desperately…I have found the stronger I feel in myself, the easier it is to move right past God. The weaker I feel, the more desperately I reach out to Him for direction and insight. Therefore, when I’m weaker, I usually follow Him more closely. (p. 190-1)

You know how something is so much a part of your life that you don’t recognize its unhealthiness until someone or something points it out?  That is what Pure Pleasure by Gary Thomas did for me in highlighting the dangers of exhaustion and the resulting lack of joy.  I read it while spending two weeks with a dear friend in Hawaii where I was immersed in her regular schedule.  And though she has a full life, she’s not spent day after day.  It was an eye-opening contrast to my own life.   

“Douglas Weiss wisely suggests putting a “lock” on our pleasure, that is, protecting it from being the first thing we pass over when life gets busy. If you’re the responsible type, you may allow yourself to enjoy pleasure if every chore is done, the house is spotlessly clean, no one within a hundred miles of you is sick, no one needs anything, and the planet has finally achieved world peace. That’s not going to happen… A convicting quote from Elton Trueblood regularly challenges me: ‘The person who is always available isn’t worth much when he is available.’ (p. 97-98)

Smack!  Truth that pierced.  Let me tell you, if I weren’t such a weeny about needles, I’d have that last statement tattooed on my forehead!

This final selection is from an excellent resource that I’m reading very slowly because the author either stalked me or read my mind before writing it.

In Walking with God, John Eldredge shares: “Sitting here on the porch with God, I return to what I have forgotten—that there is a life out of which everything else flows. A life that comes to us from God. Jesus gave us the example of the vine and the branches. He is the vine, we the branches (John 15:5). The essential point of the imagery is that life flows from the vine through the branches, and only then do we get fruit. The branches are merely channels. They cannot make abundance happen…Now, rest is just one of the ways we receive the life of God. We stop, set all of our busyness down, and allow ourselves to be replenished…I’m back to the shepherd and the sheep. When the sheep follow the shepherd, they find pasture. They find life. Life doesn’t just magically come to us. We have to make ourselves available to it. There is a lifestyle that allows us to receive the life of God. I know that if I will live more intimately with Jesus and follow His voice, I will have a much better chance of finding the life I long for. I know it. If I will listen to his voice and let him set the pace, if I cooperate in my transformation, I will be a much happier man. And so a new prayer has begun to rise within me. I am asking God, What is the life you want me to live? If we can get an answer to that question, it will change everything. (p. 27-8)

This is the question I'm echoing and leaning in to listen for the answer:  “God, what is the life you want me to live?”