Week 6 | See: From Anxiety to Silence

Releasing anxiety is not about getting rid of it. In fact, we can’t entirely eliminate anxiety from our lives. This would be dangerous. Studies of people who have experienced brain trauma and do not have the capacity for fear are severely limited because they do not have an alertness to danger, such as a car speeding down the street. We need the ability to fear for so many reasons.

Staying in a state of anxiety and worry – holding anxious thoughts close to our hearts – is not inevitable. Nader Sahyouni, author of Anxiety Transformed: Prayer That Brings Enduring Change, argues that we should not completely avoid our anxieties. It is through “incremental exposure of some type” and then learning to accept our anxieties that their hold on us will lessen.

If we can experience our anxieties and accept them in the context of our relationship with the Father, our hearts will shift to seeing that He is indeed holding our lives. God most often does not take the dangerous situation away, but we begin to see that He is with us in it. It’s been said, “If you know how to worry, you know how to contemplate.” The same capacity that allows for worry is what allows for contemplation.

In worry, we sit with anxious thoughts and turn them over and over in our mind. As we fixate on a thought, we can spiral out of reality as our thoughts becomes bigger and bigger. Jesus invites us to contemplate the bird and flowers (Matthew 6:25ff). Jesus invites a contemplation of nature so that we are led into contemplating God. And, He’s not inviting a logical assessment of a situation to which we’d say “Ok, I can see now I have nothing to worry about.” Our lives are not about having a different mindset but a different focus of our meditation or contemplation.

Isaiah 26:3 describes the result of contemplating God: “You will keep him in perfect peace whose mind is fixed on You.” Sometimes – perhaps most of the time – it is difficult to go straight from anxiety to fixing our mind on God. This is the genius of Jesus in Matthew 6. He gives something physical and usually within close range upon which to fix our attention. Numerous studies have shown how contemplating nature affects our nervous system. It calms us and slows us down. Contemplating the birds and the flowers leads us past thoughts, words, and logical arguments to our hearts – which is the place where we can experience God.

When in a state of anxiety, we often get stuck in our desire to understand what is happening and how things will turn out. Through quiet, wordless contemplation of nature leading to contemplation of God, we find a peace. Notice how the Apostle Peter encouraged a humbling of our hearts because God delights in us.

Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you.  (1 Peter 5:6–7)

The epitome of humility is silence. Silence enables us to see God’s presence and provision in our lives. When all the other voices are calmed and we are at rest in God’s gaze, we access what God sees. This is why Paul wrote that “we have the mind of Christ” (1 Corinthians 2:16).

We don’t make it happen, but we are challenged to get out of the way. Notice how the role of the Holy Spirit is described:

Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God.   Romans 8:26–27

Today, trust that the Holy Spirit is at work in you, leading you to see God as your mind becomes fixed on Him. Sit quietly in His presence. Let all other thoughts go – do not cling to them. Trust that the Spirit is at work in places too deep for words.

Prayer: Lord, help me to release my grip on anxious thoughts. Help me to rest in Your presence with me in all things. I trust that, in You, I have enough. Amen.

Week 6 | See: From Anxiety to Silence

In the prayer Jesus that taught His disciples, He included the request, “Give us this day our daily bread.” The focus of this prayer is trusting that we are secure – that our Father will take care of us again today. This trust is what the enemy attacked in the wilderness temptations of Matthew 4 as he tempted Jesus with the words “If you are the Son of God, command these stones to become loaves of bread.” 

When the Father proclaimed that He delighted in His Son at Jesus’ baptism, He affirmed His involvement and presence with Jesus. The Father’s delight is His way of saying: “I’m here, I am providing for you, I am actively loving you.” Our temptation, as was the temptation for the people of God in the Old Testament, is to grumble and complain, as we wonder if God will really be there for us. In Philippians 2:12–15, we read, 

Therefore, my beloved, as you have always obeyed, so now, not only as in my presence but much more in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure. Do all things without grumbling or disputing, that you may be blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and twisted generation, among whom you shine as lights in the world.

The emphasis of these verses is trusting that God is at work in our lives. Notice the phrase “… His good pleasure.” It is the same word used in Matthew 3 when the Father used the word “delight.” 

Do you feel God’s delight? Do you sense God leaning toward you with a heart that desires to hold your life – to provide what you need each day? We may not see it with our natural capacities but as we settle into His gaze, we are able to see what He sees, looking through His eyes. As we trust in His presence and provision of what we need, we see the Father at work around us.

In Exodus, God provided for His people’s physical needs on a daily basis by giving them bread (manna, literally means “what is it?”). Each morning, they woke up and the bread was on the ground like frost. They collected the bread and it was their “daily bread.” After they complained once again about the wilderness conditions and asked why they couldn’t have just died in Egypt, the Lord said,

Behold, I am about to rain bread from heaven for you, and the people shall go out and gather a day’s portion every day, that I may test them, whether they will walk in my law or not. Exodus 16:4

God’s provision is always enough for the need, given one day at a time. God desired relationship with His people so He set up a system for trust to develop and deepen. So, even when our physical eyes tell us something different, we can look at the world through His gaze which leads us to trust. This kind of trusting looks like waiting and watching. In Psalm 123:2 illustrates, “Behold, as the eyes of servants look to the hand of their master, as the eyes of a maidservant to the hand of her mistress, so our eyes look to the Lord our God, till he has mercy upon us.” The servant waits for the master to move and watches for his mercy to unfold. Trusting that we are secure in Him leads to a trust that He has given and will continue to give us enough. It is a trust that He is at work. 

In His discussion about anxious thoughts, Jesus observed, “But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?” (Matthew 6:30) He invites trust. We might summarize what Jesus taught this way: “You don’t have to be anxious. You can live with an awareness of God with you, delighting in you, taking care of you.” Teresa of Avila echoed this:

Let nothing disturb you,
Let nothing frighten you,
All things are passing;
God never changes.
Patience obtains all things.
Whoever has God lacks nothing;
God alone suffices.

The heart of what Teresa wrote is that God is enough. If we have God, we have everything we need. We are secure. Pause for a few moments right now and let God’s care for you settle into your mind, your body, and your heart. You might bring to mind something that is fraught with anxious thoughts. Hold that before God in prayer with a heart of waiting and watching. What do you notice? How do you see trust emerge in the waiting?

Prayer: Lord, may I look to Your hand all day today – waiting for You to work out of Your delight in me. Amen.

Week 6 | See: From Anxiety to Silence

As we navigate through life, there is much we do not understand which can leave us feeling quite insecure. We experience things beyond our control which leads us to feel insecure about the future. God created us with a need to know we are secure. This is why we often scan our environment to try to find something that is stable – something that will provide a sense of security. 

The world promises us that we will find security if we have the right things. Finances are usually at the top of the list. It may also be possessing the right education, having the right friends, living in the right neighborhood, or working at the right job. The temptation is to define ourselves by what we have as we seek to have certainty in an uncertain and ever-changing world. 

Consider ways that you look to “what you have” to provide a sense of security. Pause for a moment, and pray, asking the Lord to search your heart.

As Jesus taught about anxiety and fear in Matthew 6, He encouraged us to behold or contemplate the birds and flowers. However, Jesus also acknowledged the possibility that our eyes could be unhealthy and we are unable to see:

The eye is the lamp of the body. So, if your eye is healthy, your whole body will be full of light, but if your eye is bad, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light in you is darkness, how great is the darkness! (Matt 6:22–23)

Our ability to contemplate God’s goodness and presence in our lives is predicated upon the quality of our spiritual vision. It is possible that unhealthy eyes keep the light from coming into our lives. What makes our vision healthy versus unhealthy? Notice the previous verses:

Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. (Matthew 6:19–21)

If we try to look through the lens of treasuring “what we have,” we will not see. If we look through the lens that sees God as our treasure, we will see in a way that show us we are secure. Jesus leads us to consider what we are seeking. Are we seeking certainty through hoarding (“laying up treasures for ourselves”) the things we believe will calm our anxieties? Or, are we seeking God in all things?

No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and money.  (Matthew 6:24)

Jesus made the distinction clear: you cannot seek/serve God if you are seeking/serving possessions. If our treasure is with God, that is where is our heart will be. It is with the eyes of our heart that we see. Julian of Norwich wrote: “The soul that sees God sees all things in God.” We see God through the birds and the flowers if the treasure of our heart is God Himself. We see what we are seeking. It has been said, “We don’t see the world as it is; we see the world as we are.”

So, in this reflection about our eyes and treasure, Jesus invited a critical question: What is your treasure? Or, What do you want? In essence, we get stuck in a cycle of anxiety if our eyes are clouded by seeking certainty in what we have. If we want God, we will see Him and we will experience a security that can only come from Him.

Paul echoed this in his first letter to Timothy:

As for the rich in this present age, charge them not to be haughty, nor to set their hopes on the uncertainty of riches, but on God, who richly provides us with everything to enjoy. They are to do good, to be rich in good works, to be generous and ready to share, thus storing up treasure for themselves as a good foundation for the future, so that they may take hold of that which is truly life. (1 Timothy 6:17–19)

Pause here for a moment and consider: What is my hope for security? Sit with this question in prayer – listening to what God may bring into your awareness. As you notice any sense of your hope being in “what you have,” gently release that and turn the gaze of your heart to His gaze. Treasure Him and give thanks that He richly provides everything for you to enjoy.

Prayer: Lord, I desire to seek You. Help me to see how I treasure other things. Help me also to seek You as my treasure in all things. Amen.

Week 6 | See: From Anxiety to Silence

When Jesus walked through the wilderness temptations, the enemy began with fear. Jesus was hungry after fasting for forty days, and the enemy tempted Him to “command these stones to become loaves of bread” (Matthew 4:3). Using His resources independently of God the Father was at the heart of the temptation, and the enemy attempted to stir up anxiety to lead to Jesus to cave in. 

Jesus’ response (“Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God”) reflected the reality that there is more going on than what we can physically see. When we simply see a lack of food and there is no solid possibilities to receive food anytime soon, anxiety set in. However, if we can see what God sees, trust becomes our food. 

Reflecting on this wilderness experience, Jesus taught, “… do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?” (Matthew 6:25). This rhetorical question echoes what Jesus learned in the wilderness: Life is more than we what we see or perceive. When we experience anxious thoughts, we tend to look for certainty.

Jesus used the word, anxious, which can be translated as “worry.” Worry is turning a thought over and over in our minds. In our modern world, anxiety is understood as more than worry. Anxiety is often a disorder that can be helped by medication, and neuroscience has also helped us understand that anxiety is a part of how we function and move in the world. On one level, anxiety can be a harsh companion that significantly hampers our functioning in daily life. On another level, anxiety can function in a way that helps us look both ways before we cross a street or alert us that bills need to be paid. 

The anxiety Jesus spoke about is more like a worry that keeps us from seeing God’s provision and presence in our lives. It leads us to a preoccupation with our physical lives. It narrows our vision and attentiveness to God.

Many of us may think: I’m not really an anxious person. I don’t worry about things. Yet everyone has the capacity for anxiety and we need that capacity in order to function. The question is whether or not our anxiety has become worry. And perhaps, our anxiety lives under the surface.

Dr. Gary Nebeker wrote, “For some, anxiety shows up as worry or fear. For others—especially those trained to be decisive—it shows up as action-first confidence: moving quickly, confronting decisively, and sorting things out later. From the inside, this doesn’t feel anxious. It feels strong. It feels competent. It feels like leadership—whether in the workplace or in marriage. But when action consistently replaces reflection, and decisiveness crowds out discernment, anxiety doesn’t just disappear—it often reappears as scrambling.”

Anxiety (whether it’s an incessant worry or an under the surface, gnawing motivator to quick action) leaves us unaware of God’s presence and provision in our lives. We all have anxious thoughts, and what we do with them is significant. If we stew on them and spiral emotionally, we may find that that this affects our body as well. In an anxious, fearful place, we struggle to see God. If our response is to get to work and make things happen, we also have turned our attention to our own resources for managing life rather than to God. 

Our created design is to experience anxiety because we were created with a need to feel secure. This alert system was designed by God to veer our attention toward Him – to see Him as the One who keeps us secure.

Jesus recognized that anxiety blinds us spiritually: however, He shared that what we choose to contemplate or behold can lead us out of obsessive worry. Because of this, Jesus encouraged us to meet anxiety with contemplation, or beholding. Instead of worry, Jesus invited:

Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? And why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. (Matthew 6:26–29)

Jesus invited us to look at the natural world as a way to reorient our vision and to slow us down. We can’t talk ourselves out of worry or anxious thoughts, but we can experience God’s care for the natural world. As we do, our “seeing” returns.

Pause for a moment before you move on to whatever is next. Slowly go to a place where you can observe a flower or a bird. If you must, find a video. Quietly let what you behold sink in. Observe until you notice your thoughts directed toward your Father who keeps you secure.

Prayer: Lord, I give you my anxious thoughts – my worry. Even more,  help me to contemplate the birds and flowers today. Amen.

Week 5 | Sit: From Shame to Solitude

Meditation is a way that we return God’s gaze in love. Historically, meditation has been rooted in the Christian contemplative tradition with the practice of Lectio Divina. Lectio Divina utilizes a hermeneutic of love in which we notice how God is loving us and present to us as we receive the Scriptures.

Lectio Divina is a Latin phrase meaning “divine reading.” The idea is that we are reading with God. It is a prayerful, attentive reading of Scripture in which we are seeking to connect with the heart of God. The following is a simple five-step practice that goes back to the early days of the desert fathers and mothers in the 200s AD.

– Sit quietly before God … becoming aware that you are in His gaze. 

– Read a short passage of Scripture – one or two verses. Read it slowly three times. For this exercise, you might choose something from a Psalm or simply sit with the words from Jesus’ baptism in Matthew 3:16-17.

– Notice a word or phrase that stands out to you and meditate upon it. Hold that word or phrase before the Lord and ask Him what He is inviting you to notice. What resonates or stirs your love for God?

– Notice the response to your meditation that is rising up within you. Offer that as a prayer.

– Rest in God’s presence. Simply sit quietly with Him.

This is not something to rush or get through quickly. We are invited to sit in loving attention to the gaze of God, aided by Scripture.

Week 5 | Sit: From Shame to Solitude

Shame causes us to feel that we do not measure up and/or do not belong. Part of the temptation of shame is to make everything about us. Comparison, competition, and complaint may become our companions as we seek to take away the pain on our own. Living in the gaze of God’s love frees us as our belovedness becomes our core identity.

Rather than leading to a navel-gazing, self-consumed posture, we are led into a space where we are free to love. When we are grounded in our belovedness, we are selfless, not selfish. In His love, there is nothing to prove or perform or protect; we are free to not think about ourselves much at all, but to love God (returning His gaze) and love others (seeing them in His gaze). 

In perhaps the most mystical of Paul’s letters (2 Corinthians), Paul defends attacks against his character by sharing what is in his heart:

For the love of Christ controls us, because we have concluded this: that one has died for all, therefore all have died; and he died for all, that those who live might no longer live for themselves but for him who for their sake died and was raised (2 Corinthians 5:14–15).

Living in love for God and our neighbor is the fruit of sitting in His gaze of love. Thomas Keating expressed it brilliantly: 

Interior silence is the perfect seed bed for divine love to take root. In the Gospel the Lord speaks about a mustard seed as a symbol of divine love. It is the smallest of all seeds, but it has an enormous capacity for growth. Divine love has the power to grow and transform us. The purpose of contemplative prayer is to facilitate the process of inner transformation.

This is the fruit that grows, but it is not our goal. Our focus is to be present to His love. In solitude without words, all our normal props are stripped away and we are left in a place of vulnerability, open to His love. Loving us and shaping us (i.e., transforming us) is His work, not ours. In Matthew 6, Jesus critiqued the “Gentiles” who “think they will be heard for their many words” (v 7). Words are often used to control and guide a conversation or relationship. Jesus assured that “your Father knows what you need before you ask Him” (v 8). This means that we do not have to perform a certain way or say magic words to get God’s attention. In effect, Jesus declared boldly, “You have your Father’s attention. You can trust Him. He is with you as you turn your heart to Him.”

As we engage in solitude, we are often tempted to ask, What am I getting out of this? Or, Am I getting anything out of this? As those questions arise, remember that learning to be the beloved is rooted in not needing something to happen, because it has already happened. He is already with us and loving us. We do not need to do anything to get His attention. 

We frequently retain old ideas about being loved and may transfer them into our relationship with God. Perhaps, we think I’m beloved if _____, I’m beloved when _____, I’m beloved because _____, or I’m beloved in spite of  _____. Each of these are shame-based responses. Is there one or more of these responses that you are being invited to release? Sitting in His gaze leads us to a place of knowing that I’m beloved. Notice the period. There is no qualifier. We are beloved, period.

As we sit in the silence of solitude, we begin to notice over time that God is smiling at us … that He is not pushing us or demanding something from us … that He is pleased with us because we are His child and His beloved. Period. We enter the solitude with God more deeply as we know these realities in our depths. Often, it is here that we find ourselves praying “forgive us our sins, O Lord, as we forgive those who have sinned against us.” Engaging our belovedeness leads us into seeking forgiveness and extending forgiveness. 

We see these fruits grow as we return His gaze. In our belovedness, we experience that mutuality of God’s gaze. I’m looking at Him, and He’s looking at me. Our shared awareness becomes the place of contemplation. His contemplation of me is my contemplation of Him. In the words of 1 John 4:19, “We love because he first loved us.” In solitude, we wait and let His love take root more and more over time. 

Today, simply sit in solitude, not with many words, just present to God’s gaze. Sit with the question: God, how are You loving me right now? Sit, notice, listen, allow God to bring the answer to Your awareness. As you notice His gaze of love, begin to gaze at Him. With the eyes of your heart, what do you see? Respond with a simple prayer that expresses what you see.

Prayer: Lord, give me eyes to see You throughout the day. Help me see Your love and presence with me in the moments of this day. Amen.

Week 5 | Sit: From Shame to Solitude

Henri Nouwen observed, “Without solitude, it is virtually impossible to live a spiritual life” and “Solitude is the furnace of transformation.” 

For many of us, our discipleship did not emphasize or perhaps even explore the reality that Jesus went to a lonely place for prayer, even though it is one of Jesus’ habits that was highlighted repeatedly in the Gospels. For others of us, solitude was our punishment from Mom and Dad if we did something wrong: Go to your room and be quiet. For still others of us, as we consider solitude, we may be afraid of what will happen if we are alone with our thoughts.

Given all the possible back stories, we may wonder: How exactly is solitude transformative? It is transformative precisely because it challenges us to confront our wounds. As we stop the movement and flitting around, we change because we meet with God in the places we may have kept hidden or buried. The transformation is often imperceptible to us. It can be hard to discern because the things of the heart are deep and mysterious. In addition, the transforming power of solitude is the relational dynamic of simply being in God’s presence. Experiencing His presence shapes us without us trying.

One of the desert fathers, Abba Moses, famously said, “Go, sit in your cell, and your cell will teach you everything.” For the monks, their cell was the small private room where they would sit in solitude with God. We often experience a compulsion to go out and find answers for ourselves in the world around us, but the contemplative way of Jesus is to go in. From that place, we are ready to engage a world contemplatively with a freedom that only comes from solitude. In solitude, we are freed from the desire for approval from others, the desire for a good reputation, as well as the desire to look good in front of others. 

As we look at the life of Jesus, solitude is both a physical place as well as “the inner landscape where we learn to sit still with God” (Martin Laird, Into the Silent Land). These two aspects go hand in hand. Jesus taught about the “inner room” of the heart in Matthew 6, and He practiced going to the physical desert. It is in physical solitude that a solitude of soul is experienced and nurtured.

The goal of solitude is to be able to take our prayer cells with us. What is nurtured and shaped in solitude can be taken with us for a solitude of heart at any time and in any place. As we experience the gaze of God in our solitude, we take the gaze of God with us into the world.

Father Thomas Keating asked the question: “What is the essence of contemplative prayer? The way of pure faith. Nothing else. You don’t have to feel, but you have to practice it.” Indeed, we may not be aware of all that is happening in the depths of solitude, but we can trust that God is with us. On a practical level, it can helpful to know that time in solitude often contains three elements: restlessness, internal conflict, and peace. We often begin with a sense of restlessness in our minds and bodies. This can feel unproductive and we may wonder if anything is “happening.” In this part of solitude, habits, patterns, and mental loops are fighting for attention. As we let them go, we may feel internal conflict. Things that have been buried within us may come up and it can feel quite intense. Finally, we may enter into a time of peace in which we experience clarity, focus, and a sense of openness to God. 

All things are normal. In a twenty-minute contemplative sit, we may experience nineteen minutes of restlessness and conflict before we notice any peace. All that is required is to notice and let the restlessness and conflict go, returning to presence. We may experience distraction over and over, and it is vitally important not to judge “how we are doing.” Part of what is happening is that we are exchanging a performance-based way of relating for simple presence to God. We cannot do this wrong. We just show up and trust God’s presence with us.

We do not make anything happen, but we open ourselves to God’s will and work – whatever shape that takes. Solitude, stillness, and silence overlap one another, and a contemplative practice that contains all three simply puts us in a place where we experience God’s good, holy, loving, and kind gaze. 

For the next 5-10 minutes (or maybe 20), engage in solitude. Sit quietly and wait. There is nothing to do, nothing to accomplish, nothing to prove. Notice various things that come up and simply let them go without judgment or commentary.

Prayer: Lord, in Your presence there is fullness of joy; at Your right hand are pleasures forevermore. In Your mercy, may I sit quietly and wait. Amen.  (Psalm 16:11)

Week 5 | Sit: From Shame to Solitude

Releasing shame is not a “Do it once and you’re done” exercise. That might sound discouraging, but if our goal is to experience our belovedness, it might not be a bad thing. When we are aware of and then release our shame, we are drawn into a deeper intimacy with our Lord. This is what we desire – to know that we are seen and beloved – not to get rid of shame.

When our focus is to get rid of shame, we may find ourselves stuck in a cycle of feeling shame about our shame. Or we may find ourselves powerless to do much about it. When our focus is to live in the gaze of God where we are His beloved, we move into an ever-deepening experience of freedom. 

Remember that shame is the overpowering feeling that we are not worthy and do not belong. As a result, we believe that we have to perform in certain ways to be loved. Or, we may simply hide, not letting people see the real us or becoming a wallflower so that no one sees us at all. These “shame-based” actions are often deeply habituated responses that we have cultivated with years of practice. These habits do not change easily or quickly in most cases.

We wouldn’t engage in shame if there were not some pay off. Jesus recognizes this when He says, “…they have received their reward” in response to us doing our good works to be seen by others (Matthew 6:2, 5, 16). It usually feels good on some level to indulge our shame, because our behaviors are designed to alleviate or satisfy shame. However, the promise never meets the reality, and we are left more dissatisfied than before.

In Psalm 78, the people of God complained that God was not taking care of them and the text says, “They tested God in their heart by demanding the food they craved” (v 18). The word “craved” speaks of a disordered desire much like we can crave the applause of others. God, as He often does, gave them what they wanted. Then, the psalm goes on to say that while the food was still in their mouths, their craving was not satisfied (v 30). Our disordered desires are never satisfied and they never go away. 

Scottish theologian and pastor Thomas Chalmers (early 1800s) taught extensively about desire, the heart, and transformation. He famously said, “Seldom do any of our tastes disappear by mere process of natural extinction. They must be overpowered by another,” as well as, “The only way to dispossess the heart of an old affection is by the expulsive power of a new one.”

As we sit in the gaze of God, in solitude, our hearts are drawn to this new affection. Our affection for God – our love for Him – expands as we receive His love for us. This is why the Apostle John wrote, “We love because He first loved us” (1 John 4:19). Releasing shame happens as we quietly pray in the inner room of solitude. Again, this invitation to solitude comes right in the middle of Jesus’ discussion of shame in Matthew 6.

Nowhere else is this more brilliantly displayed than in Jesus’ interaction with the woman at the well in John 4. With a history of multiple husbands, lo stthrough either divorce or death, she had experienced a painful life. Now living with a man who was not her husband, it is likely that she felt invisible. And then, something happened – something changed. After Jesus asked for water, He declared:

Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again. The water that I will give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life. John 4:13–14

The promise of eternal water satisfying her thirst caught her attention. She asked for this water, and Jesus began to connect with her and love her right where she was. There is a lot we do not know about her specific situation, but we do know that she did not feel seen. After her encounter with Jesus, the phrase that is repeated in the story is “He told me all I ever did” (John 4:29, 39). In this connection with Jesus, she was seen. When we are seen with His love, it leads to this kind of joyful proclamation.

The release of shame happens as we grab hold of something else – as we hold on to the gaze of God. In 2 Corinthians 4:5-6, notice the shift from proclaiming ourselves to proclaiming Jesus and the result of His light shining in us:

For what we proclaim is not ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, with ourselves as your servants for Jesus’ sake. For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.

Our hearts become full as we look at the smile on Jesus’ face. In this moment, use your imagination to experience His smile. See the smile of Jesus as you sit together with Him in the gaze of God.

Prayer: Lord, in Your great mercy, help me to release my shame as I gaze at Your glorious love for me. Amen

Week 5 | Sit: From Shame to Solitude

The temptation to jump off the pinnacle of the temple (Matthew 4) appealed to the real human need to be seen and known. The evil in this temptation was trying to find this need met by the applause of men rather than the gaze of God. This is what Jesus addresses in Matthew 6 again and again – the contrast between “in order to be seen by them” versus “your Father who sees in secret will reward you.”

For most of us, we were formed through relationships that are performance based and transactional. The relationship within the Trinity contains neither of those dynamics. It was noted previously that the Father spoke the words of belovedness at Jesus’ baptism (Matthew 3) before Jesus had engaged in any ministry activity at all. Those same words of identity, affirmation, and connection show up again in Matthew 17:1-8 at Jesus’ transfiguration.

He was still speaking when, behold, a bright cloud overshadowed them, and a voice from the cloud said, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to him” (v 5).

Even after Jesus had performed miracles (turning water into wine, feeding thousands with just a few loaves and fishes, calming a storm on the sea) and healings (people who were ill, blind, leprous, paralyzed), the message was the same: This is my Son, the beloved, in whom I delight. The Father’s posture toward the Son did not elevate or change because of all Jesus was doing. Certainly, Jesus prayed and heard the Father’s voice leading Him day by day, but God’s gaze did not change. He saw past all the activities to the heart of God the Son. 

Being seen and known in God’s gaze is better and different from the ways we may have tried to meet the need outside of our Lord. He is not performance based. The Lord does not gush over good things we do or dismay over our sin. He is not transactional. God does not demand that we do certain things or stop doing things to get His love and blessing.

Pause here for a moment and consider: Are there ways I have assumed I need to work for God to feel a sense of affirmation? Are there ways I think that God owes me because of what I’ve done? The thinking could be: I don’t deserve to get cancer (or my children shouldn’t be struggling) because I have done all the right things. Or, If I do what is good and right, I’ll feel close to God.

God’s seeing of us – His love for us – is greater than the way we may have learned relationships. His love transcends, and we are invited to step into His gaze and trust that love. In Psalm 80, we read a refrain that is repeated three times (vv 3, 7, 19): 

Restore us, O God; let your face shine upon us, that we may be delivered!

In the Message translation, Peterson renders this verse as: “God, come back! Smile your blessing smile: That will be our salvation.” Indeed, a face that shines is a face with a smile. Have you considered that God smiles upon you? His fundamental posture is a smile toward us. Rest with that for a few moments.

Sensing His face shining upon us is the heart of receiving our belovedness. 

The following short story is from Brennan Manning (The Rabbi’s Heartbeat):

The greatest gift I have ever received from Jesus Christ has been the Abba experience. My dignity as Abba’s child is my most coherent sense of self. Years ago, I related a story about a priest from Detroit named Edward Farrell who visited his uncle in Ireland on his eightieth birthday. On the great day, they got up before dawn and went walking in silence along the shores of Lake Killarney and stopped to watch the sunrise. As they stood side by side, staring at the rising sun, suddenly the uncle turned and went skipping down the road. He was radiant, beaming and smiling from ear to ear. His nephew said, “Uncle Seamus, you really look happy.” “I am, lad.” “Want to tell me why?” His eighty year old uncle replied, “Yes, you see, my Abba is very fond of me.”

At the transfiguration, we see what Hebrews 1:3 says: 

He is the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature, and he upholds the universe by the word of his power. After making purification for sins, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high. 

Jesus’ face is radiant toward us. He smiles. And because He smiles, we know the Father smiles upon us. In God’s gaze, He sees and He smiles.

The one difference between the words spoken over Jesus at the baptism and at the transfiguration are the words, “Listen to My son.” In other words, follow Him – shape your life after Him. And, so, we seek to live in the gaze of God as Jesus did. It is important to note that Jesus certainly knew who He was as well as the posture of the Father toward Him, and He needed to hear it. We need to hear it. 

Spend a few moments in your quiet place of solitude and tell the Father you need to hear His voice of love. Tell Him that you need to hear that He sees you. Sit quietly and listen for His voice. Remember that the quiet may be the expression of His love as well.

Prayer: Father, I rest in Your love for me. It is enough. Help me to be settled in Your smile, knowing that You are very fond of me. Amen.

Week 5 | Sit: From Shame to Solitude

Most often, we struggle with shame because of hurts and wounds we’ve experienced. As children, we are wounded and conclude that “something must be wrong with us.” Our wounds become interpreted as our identity: I am not enough. I am not lovable. We also wound others. If we do not move toward repair with God and others, we may respond out of an unhealthy shame rather than a holy guilt. 

As we consider ways that we seek to be celebrated by others, it leads us to consider what wounds we are trying to cover up. Addressing wounds and false beliefs paves the way for living in our belovedness. We are invited to look into our pain, not away from it. In Falling Upward, Richard Rohr comments that “we cannot heal what we do not acknowledge.” And, as is often attributed to Carl Jung, “What we resist persists.”

Healing and resting in our belovedness with Christ comes as we connect the dots between our past wounds, hurt, and neglect to our current struggles with shame.

Again, shame tells us that we don’t measure up and don’t belong. These messages are unbearable, and we instinctively try to cover them up. We see this first in the the temptations in the Garden of Eden. Initially, Adam and Eve “were both naked, and they felt no shame” (Genesis 2:25). After they sinned against God, “the eyes of both of them were opened, and they realized they were naked” (Genesis 3:7). Rather than go to God with the wound they had inflicted upon themselves, they hid, covered, blamed, and lied about what happened. Shame entered the equation.

Whether it is our sin or sin inflicted upon us, the methods of covering shame are the same. Can you see ways that you try to deal with your shame in order to counteract the messages that you don’t belong or are not worthy of love? Do you see ways that you try to distance yourself from those feelings of shame?

Do you tend to look outward to find a covering for shame, or do you turn inward? As we become aware, rather than feeling shame about our shame, we can let the awareness turn us toward Him – stepping into His gaze. In the gaze of God, we find repair because of forgiveness offered in grace. A key feature of the Lord’s Prayer is, “Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who have sinned against us.” This covers both elements of how we may experience shame.

As we sit in His gaze rather than wallowing in shame, Psalm 34:5 reminds us: “Those who look to him are radiant; their faces are never covered with shame.” This is the truth as we receive our belovedness – we are able to release shame, and our faces reflect the glory of the One who gazes upon us. 

In Romans 5:1-5, the Apostle Paul describes the dynamic of being in Christ by referring to shame, as well as to the deep, expansive love of God:

Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. Through him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God. Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.

While the world around us seems to live according to an economy of shame, God’s kingdom runs on hope, which never puts shame on us. His love has been poured into our hearts. As we become aware of the ways we seek for others to fill our hearts, we can rest from all those efforts. Eugene Peterson translates the last part of Romans 5:1-5 like this: “We can’t round up enough containers to hold everything God generously pours into our lives through the Holy Spirit!”

Today, simply sit in the awareness that shame is not something God puts on you. He covers shame and repairs through forgiveness. As you notice any way that you seek being the beloved from others, gently let it go and hear the Father say: You are my beloved. Rest for a few minutes. As thoughts come which might distract you from His presence and love, simply return to hear His voice of love.

Prayer: Father, thank You for Your grace which covers my shame. Thank You for forgiveness which heals hurts and opens me to Your grace again and again. Amen.