Over the summer, I have been reading Forgotten God by Francis Chan with a group of women from church. It has been challenging, inspiring, and overwhelmingly good for my soul to reflect on what it means to be actively seeking the Holy Spirit.
I don’t think that my understanding of the Holy Spirit has ever been so clear before…or maybe I finally asked for the blinders to be ripped off my spiritual eyes.
A paradigm shift.
A renewed focus.
A fresh look.
I have always considered myself a pretty self-reliant person. I can do it myself, thank you very much, and usually better than everyone else. But over the last year or three, I have found myself making a slow metamorphosis. Things started to change back when I was pregnant with Fiona, the spring of 2009. It was a rough semester, and I clearly remember one morning in the shower where I was in a ridiculous amount of pain and I just sobbed out a prayer to get me through the day. I couldn’t do it on my own anymore, forcing me to ask for help. Looking back on that time in my life, there is no human way that I could have made it through the semester, teaching three classes, tough pregnancy, two small kids, horrible schedule. It was only through the help of the Holy Spirit that I made it through, but I really don’t think I gave credit where credit was due.
This past spring, when I was struggling with my shingles, lots of responsibilities, worrying about my mom at Mayo Clinic, and building our house, I hit another breaking point. But this time, I fell to my knees a lot faster, finding myself praying on a regular basis that the Holy Spirit would empty me…fill me up…and speak through me, because I surely wasn’t able to do it by myself. There was one morning in particular, when I was heading up to lead my Bible study group on a Wednesday morning, and I physically wasn’t sure if I was going to make it. But I sat in my car and prayed for the Holy Spirit’s strength, and somehow I made it through the morning. I hardly remember a word I said, and I think that is the point. It wasn’t me.
So as we headed into the summer, I picked up the book Forgotten God by Francis Chan, which is all about the Holy Spirit. I thought I knew something about the Holy Spirit, but it turned out that I had only ever scratched the surface. Honestly, I think I had been preparing to hear what God had to say to me this summer for a while, softening my self-reliant shell and learning that I can’t do everything “on my own”.
Not only that, but by ignoring the work of the Holy Spirit, we deliberately turn down the power that is available to us, the type of power that made the people who heard the disciples speak in their languages after Pentecost marvel because they were “uneducated men”. They could see…physically see…that these were not men who had studied languages in university, but were gifted with the ability to communicate the life-giving message of Jesus.
This was a fresh look at an old story for me, to see the impact of the Holy Spirit on the early church, and understand that it was not just for them, but it’s for us too. Yeah, maybe it looks a bit different, but have I truly asked for the Spirit to move in my life? To work out God’s will not in a nebulous “what’s God’s will for my life” kind of a way, but in an active, day-to-day asking what is His will…now…in this moment?
That nudge. That push. That open door. That quickened heart beat. That uncomfortable situation. That truth-speaking moment. That is where the Spirit shows up, and I am learning to both pay attention and to point back to God when He moves.
I don’t claim to have all the answers, but what I am starting with is to pray, ask for His leading, and then be obedient. So simple that sometimes I miss it.
I don’t want to miss it anymore.
