Anita Mathias | Anita Mathias: Dreaming Beneath the Spires

Seeking a God’s Eye View of Success

My daughter Irene succeeding at walking.

I was mentored in my thirties by a friend who genuinely knew God, but was nevertheless conservative and sexist, and made me feel guilty about my call to write which he saw as “dabbling.” He felt I should throw myself into housekeeping and childrearing, and would thereby find God at the bottom of the laundry basket.

So I felt guilty and conflicted about my desire for success in whatever I undertook.

* * *

Both of my daughters are successful in what they do; one of them, in particular, is successful in everything she throws her heart into…

I’ve been meditating on success…

I increasingly want to view things the way that Jesus does. “So, Lord, what do you think about success?” I ask.

* * *

“Be strong and very courageous. Be careful to obey God. Then you will be successful in everything you do,” the Lord tells Joshua (Joshua 1:7).

Success is God’s expectation for Joshua. And success is God’s blessing on Joshua.

For God is our father. No loving parent would wish to see their child fail, expect when failing is the only way to learn. I remember Irene walking her first steps with a huge grin on her face, her fat little legs collapsing under her plump baby body, and then she lifted herself up, and continued, still with that fat grin on her face. Not to allow her to fall would be keeping her weak.

So God may allow failures…to teach us our need for him, or to redirect us when we have chosen the wrong path. He might permit physical and mental burnouts to teach us to intersperse mental and physical activity so that both mind and body thrive, and we achieve more in the long run.

In general, however, I believe success is God’s will for his children. For instance, I don’t believe God intends us to start a business and fail. I dissolved the first business I ran soon after my second business went into good profit, because it was unsustainably intensive and lacked long-term potential. It was, in other words, a failure! But the things I learnt from it, and the business books I read while running it, helped me run my second business successfully, while having time to taste the joy of life. So it was both a failure, and a self-taught MBA in the school of experience. These failures God permits; they are slip roads onto the highway of our calling, as a writer might experiment with poetry, fiction, essay and drama before settling on creative nonfiction which uses all these genres.

* * *

In J.R.R. Tolkein’s story “Leaf by Niggle,” Niggle, all his life, tries to complete a huge, beautiful painting, always thwarted by those who commandeer his time, and exploit him for their own ends. He dies with his giant painting unfinished, though one leaf was perfection….

Well, when Niggle gets to heaven, he sees the landscape and forest that he had been trying to paint all his life: complete and perfect. Had be been attempting to recreate what existed in God’s Own Country, or had God, just for the fun of it, created what Niggle had struggled to?

Wonderstuck, “Niggle said, “ ‘It’s a gift.’ He was referring to his art, and also to the result, but he was using the word quite literally.”

Art is a gift of God primarily to the artist herself.

* * *

I believe God intends all his children to be successful–though not all to be equally successful. There are tens of thousands of Christian bloggers, but only a dozen or so who have tens of thousands of readers. Are the rest failures then?

The art we produce, the books, the blogs, the poems, may reach millions, or may only reach thousands, hundreds, dozens, or even fewer… In his mysterious purposes before the beginning of time, God chooses the precise places where people live, the gifts he gives them, and their circle of influence.

However, whether its reach is massive or limited, creativity is the gift of God to us, given for our joy, our pleasure, our delight, our growth, and even our sanctification. Creativity, art, is a gift to be enjoyed for its own sake, for the pleasure of making beautiful things, even while we pray that God may use our creativity to bless many.

Success then is taking the talents we have been given by a God who loves us–one talent, five or ten, and investing them fruitfully.

Success lies in running well in our own lane, enjoying the work of our hands, not worrying about people in more glittering and influential lanes, accepting that, for now, God has given them a different story, a larger lane, and perhaps may give us a larger lane one day, or perhaps not–but either way, the love of God is sufficient to fill our hearts with joy.

* * *

Want a shortcut to success?

I was reading about Rev. E. J. H. Nash, who converted many key players in today’s Anglican Church, including Justin Welby, John Stott, Nicky Gumbel, Michael Green, and David Watson. His goal was to reach England for Christ by evangelizing “the best boys from the best schools.”

When Nash surrendered his life to Christ, he mentally “handed over to him the keys of every room in the house of his life.”

What Jesus put in each room, what he took out, and how he rearranged things was now His responsibility. And Christ gave Nash, nicknamed Bash, a disproportionate influence on the course of Christianity in this nation.

I am reminded too of Bill Bright who signed a contract signing over everything in his life to Christ, and said, “The future never looked so bright.” Within a day of his surrender, he received a vision for Campus Crusade for Christ, a massive international Christian ministry with 25,000 missionaries in 191 countries

C. S. Lewis needed to surrender to “the great Angler,” ‘the most dejected and reluctant convert in all England,” to have his imagination baptized, and to be liberated into the freedom, the creativity, the whimsical, playful, and magical combining of all the worlds he delighted in that we see in the Narnia books.

Inviting Christ into every room of your life, and especially into the rooms of your imagination, your creativity, and your work, will yield surprising results.

I must add though that Jesus, the Lion of God, is not a tame lion. He may remove some things, replace them with others, may redirect you to a quieter room for a season–and this season could be a very long one. Or he may almost instantly unleash a flood of words, ideas, connections, and inspiration.

I believe surrender is always accompanied by creativity. Surrender of ourselves to Jesus is a divine exchange, an exchange of our limitedness for his unlimitedness, our smallness for his hugeness, and our puny ideas for his magnificent ideas.

(When I invited Christ anew into every room of the house of my life, I was surprised by a business idea which filled us with purpose and joy, excitement and hope, an idea I could instinctively and immediately tell would work, even on the mundane level that businesses must work, i.e. providing a golden financial return for the investment of time and talent–but which, God willing, will also bless many people.)

* * *

The quest for success in our endeavours becomes light and happy when we love something or someone more than success, when something or someone is more important than success. For me at present, that Someone is Christ.

* * *

I like Samuel’s prophecy over Saul, ^“The Spirit of the Lord will come powerfully upon you; and you will be changed into a different person. Then do whatever your hand finds to do, for God is with you,” 1 Samuel 10 6-7.

So work hard, work joyously, work well, and rest well, and expect the blessing of the Lord on the work of your hands. For the Lord your God is with you.

* * *

References

Tree and Leaf by JRR Tolkein on Amazon.com and on Amazon.co.uk

Surprised by Joy, by C. S. Lewis on Amazon.com and on Amazon.co.uk

On Not Despising Deliverance

By Anita Mathias

“Do not despise prophecy,” the Apostle Paul says, somewhat surprisingly.

Why would we despise it? Because we tend to suspect what we do not understand? Or because prophecy can attract fools, charlatans, the unstable, and conmen seeking to gain power over others—as well as, of course, those who can genuinely tune into God?

I no longer despise prophecy because of personal experiences with those who genuinely had the gift of prophecy.

* * *

What about deliverance ministries? In the first church I attended as a Christian, in a small American town in the South, an individual gained power by labelling everything untoward as a curse or demon-caused–infertility, miscarriages, ear pain, a fear of flying–and exorcizing people. He offered to baptise me to mark my adult commitment to Christ, and when I spontaneously resisted total immersion (I was afraid, having only learnt to swim as an adult) he halted the baptism for an exorcism. (But I remained nervous!)

Eventually that person left the church, taking the best tithers with him, and founded his own church, heavily based around deliverance—a spiritually unbalanced church which, fortunately, did not survive

So I had question marks about deliverance.

* * *

Around that time, however, I picked up a book by Billy Graham, which surprisingly claimed that 90% of Christians are “demonized,” (as opposed to possessed). A dark power, what Paul calls, “evil rulers and authorities of the unseen world, mighty powers in this dark world, and spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places,” controlled aspects of their lives. They were not entirely free when it came to their inability to forgive, perhaps; their out-of-control spending, addiction to sugar, alcohol, porn, anxiety, or negative thoughts.

* * *

What happens in deliverance? Someone with greater faith or spiritual authority uses their faith to expel dark powers from areas of your life. Uses their intimacy with God to implore God’s protection, a hedge, a strong tower in that area of your life.

You find freedom. Your sleep becomes deeper and more restful.

* * *

I have been married for 26 years. Anger used to be an issue in our marriage, and we’d get all histrionic and historical, and have time-wasting fights. And since life was short, I no longer wanted to waste time on stupid fights. I wanted to use wisdom and intelligence, stepping back, thinking rationally about the issues, acting using my mind and spirit, not my agitated emotions.

I eventually decided no more. No more fights. I have had enough. I will act with wisdom. It takes two to fight, and I will not be one of the two.

In the Old Testament, people marked important junctures of their lives— a major decision, an encounter with God–by building stone pillars. I wanted to mark my decision. When I visited a worship festival which had a deliverance ministry, I signed up for one on one prayer. The prayer minister was not slick, or well-educated. He called the little area of my life which was out of self-control and Spirit-control “a critter.” He prayed with me to expel it. I sighed and sighed as I physically felt relief, sensed something leaving, something generational, felt a huge sense of relief, lightness and freedom.

Harriet Lerner calls marriage the dance of intimacy. If one partner had strong emotions they cannot process, they can press their partner’s buttons, and start a fight. So they get to avoid dealing with their own discomfort. Eventually, couples get addicted to the adrenalin of anger.

After prayer, I found less anger in myself. I might yell a little, and then find I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t summon up the anger, the passion. I realised that to act out would be acting like a fool.

It was as if God had erected a hoop, an invisible boundary around me that I could not cross. I was experiencing the paradoxical freedom of being possessed by God’s spirit… I did not have to retaliate, angry word for angry word, historical accusation for accusation, all that foolishness. I could be still and quiet and write. I could go for a run. I could have a nap.

* * *

The other deliverance was equally astonishing. I was having coffee with a Christian friend, a woman a couple of years older than me, whom I respect and like for many things…her love for people, her spiritual wisdom, her warm heart, her bounciness and cheerfulness. And, since as Thoreau says, “Every man is the builder of a temple called his body to the god he worships,” I admire her too for her body; she’s all muscle. She swims, plays tennis, and runs half-marathons, faster than most men. I once did a run with her, and she did 3 miles in the time I did one. Oh well!

My friend asked, “So how are you really?” And I said, “It is well-ish with my soul, but…” (choose the path of humility, Anita, I said to myself) “I have been told to lose weight for my health and immune system, and, well, I haven’t been hugely successful.”

And then she told me a story I would never have guessed at. This slim attractive woman had been a binge-eater in her twenties. She binged, then purged, so that though she had been twenty pounds overweight, nobody guessed at her secret sin. But she knew. And she could not break her addiction to binges. One day, she cried out to the Lord in her distress, and, she said the only way she could describe it was—she was delivered. She no longer binge-ate; she got a job which required physical activity, and for her to be at her goal weight, and, within the year, she was.

I sighed, and knew that this was a moment for humility. This was a moment of destiny. So I said with simple intensity, “Will you pray for me to be delivered?”

She prayed. Listening to someone pray I can often tell whether they have entered the Throne-room, whether they have connected with God, and, often, I can intuitively tell if the prayer will be answered.

I knew I had been delivered from an addiction to food. I had to wait to see whether the deliverance would work out as the blind man was healed, first by seeing men like trees walking, and then seeing them clearly.

* * *

My daughters noticed the change first. We were on holiday in Tuscany, which has some of the best comfort food on the planet, morish food which releases addictive dopamine, and I found myself eating some of my spaghetti alle vongole, spaghetti and clams; linguine gamberetti, zucchini e zafferano, linguine with shrimp, zucchini, and saffron; spaghetti carbonara; or ravioli with spinach and ricotta, noticing that I was full, and then offering tastes to anyone who wanted them. “Mum, whatever diet you are on, we like it,” Zoe said.

But I was not on a diet. I had begun to find it physically difficult to continue eating once I was full! There was a force within me, reminding me to stop once I had had enough.

The Spirit is a remind-er, Jesus says, an internal reminder, bringing things to our remembrance.

* * *

And then I returned home, and would reach for a snack, and Someone, a kindly Someone, asked, “Anita, are you hungry?” And I would say, “No, but I am sad. I am bored. I am agitated. I am stressed; I am feeling hyper. I need a snack to help me settle down before I write. I need a reward after I write. I need a snack to help me transition between two activities.”

And the Spirit would say, “Ask Jesus to fill your Spirit.”

I would remember: I could ask the Holy Spirit to possess my spirit. Or I could eat a bar of chocolate. I prayed; desire for the stress-relieving snack receded. (And sometimes I succumbed. Sometimes, you see men like trees walking before you see clearly.)

It kept happening. Someone would say something sharp or cross or stressful, and my blood sugar would plunge, and I would think, “I need chocolate. I need a slice of fruit cake.” And then I would think, “Anita, you are not hungry. Might the Holy Spirit do it? Invite him in.”

Voila, 100 calories saved.

I realised that I was rarely physically hungry, so much so that I almost wondered if I were getting ill again, but then I truly skipped a meal, and real hunger returned.

When I was hungry, Someone kept reminding me to ask, “Anita, what will bless your body?” And I would basically cook up a skillet of vegetables, toss in some shrimp or fish, and some noodles or brown rice or pasta. Good for my family, good for me.

And freedom too, to eat the odd bit of chocolate, the odd slice of pizza…

Simple changes, prompted by the Spirit’s reminders: Don’t eat when you are not hungry. Stop eating when you are not hungry. Choose what will bless your body.

I stepped on the scale today. A cumulative weight loss of 24 pounds, the easiest ones after that prayer. (I have more to lose, of course, but, by the grace of Jesus, want to keep my eyes on Him through the process).

On How Elephants Can Escape Their Chains, and We Can Too

By Anita Mathias

Elephants, majestic, loveable, gentle beasts, are tamed by cruel means I hate reading about in Thailand, principally, in Nepal, in India and in Malaysia.

A common trick, less cruel than the others though, is this. The elephant is initially chained to a tree with heavy chains. Later, however, the mahouts don’t bother to attach the chain to the tree. The elephant, however, stands motionless or paces for long hours believing himself to be chained. However, all it takes for him to be free is to gallop away; he can trample those who cruelly abused him and crushed his spirit while he was chained.

That’s us sometimes, chained when we can so easily be free.

* * *

The biggest chain which binds people to ugliness they do not wish to be bound to?

It is when we cannot forgive, and so people who do not deserve that honour inhabit our hearts and emotions.

* * *

One way to tell what a blogger, or preacher, struggles with is to scroll through a few years of her posts or sermons. We write our obsessions. We teach best what we need to learn the most.

Forgiveness, very sadly, does not come easily to me.

* * *

How do we cut the chains that bind us? How do we forgive?

We need the grace of God. Forgiveness is as hard to accomplish by an act of will as breaking a drug, alcohol or nicotine addiction by an act of will (though all of these are possible).

Forgiveness is terribly hard, and when you have done so, you have the same relief as when you have tidied a cluttered room.

You sleep so soundly. You sleep so deeply. You sleep so well.

* * *

This is the best way I know of cutting the chains which bind you to those who have injured you. You say, “Yes, you have sinned against me; you have deceived me; you have lied about me… whatever, whatever. But I will not hold it against you. I will even pray that God blesses all the goodness in you and uses it for his Kingdom. My raw emotions sometimes feel that you deserve to be cursed not blessed, but I do not want the toxins of such sentiments in my mouth or heart. So I bless you in the name of Jesus. Go and be blessed.”

Phew. And in those simple words, the act of blessing, you are free.

* * *

And tomorrow, your tiny un-elephant brain may forget the beautiful resolutions of today, the glorious transaction of today, and get all bitter again.

Don’t be surprised, dear reader. It’s par for the course. It’s called being human.

So, dear one, do it all over again. Cut the chain of grievance once again. Pray blessing on those who have injured you once again. It does not seem that they deserve it, but you, oh child of God, deserve peace, oh yes, you do.

Do it for Jesus. Do it for you.

Amen!

On “Defining Decisions” Rather Than New Year’s Resolutions

By Anita Mathias

Image Credit

Mark Batterson, in The Circle-Maker, a fascinating book on a prayer, praises “defining decisions,” that set the course of your life, sort of like choosing whether you drive to Slovenia (which our family did last summer), or to Scotland (which we might do this summer).

I made three defining decisions in my twenties. Chronologically: I decided to become a writer. I decided to follow Jesus. And I decided to take a marriage vow to love.

Yeah, well…

I have failed in all of these, continually. There have been days, weeks, months, and years, in which I have not written at all. I sometimes think of my beloved Jesus sadly: how imperfectly I imitate him. And marriage, well.

Yet, oddly, I’ve not failed in any of these, because I am still on the road. I am writing, albeit less than I would like to. I am still following after Jesus, albeit imperfectly. I am still married, more or less happily.

* * *

Oh, it is this season again, this season of resolutions. And I will probably make some.

But what I am more interested in are defining decisions, North Stars, compass points, things I will continue to do even if I sometimes go off course. Things that I will continue doing, even if I fall. Not resolutions I make year after year like Yom Kippur sacrifices, but a once-and-for-all decision I will follow, though I may wobble, and fail some days, some weeks…

Here are a few of my defining decisions, which I return to again and again. These are to do with health

1 I will walk 10,000 steps a day.

2 I will avoid sugar

3 I will avoid white flour (using bread, pasta and noodles as a treat, rather than as food).

4 I will begin reading myself to sleep at 10 p.m.

5 I will do some yoga every day (a habit I am struggling to adopt).

These are habits which are not yet second nature. There are other habits which are second nature, though again I fail some days, some weeks, some months….

I will spend time with God

I will read or listen to my Bible.

I will read.

I will write at least a little.

I will keep the rooms in which I work and sleep tidy.

I will garden.

* * *

How about you? Instead of a resolution, different every year, why not try a defining decision which you will return to, despite falls and wobbles, as we continue trying to follow Jesus, though like Peter, we might forget him, deny him, and yearn to go on a break.

When I almost missed the Uffizi Gallery, Florence

By Anita Mathias

The Doni Tondo, a rare canvas painting by Michealangelo. Scroll down for more images.

I spent the first Sunday of January 2106 at the Uffizi Gallery in Florence. It was free, and advice online, as well as unsolicited advice on Facebook warned me that the lines were horrendous.

But visiting Florence and not spending a few hours at the Uffizi seemed like something I would always think of with sadness. Though I have visited the Uffizi before in the 1986 and 1997, I am a different person now, know more about art, and appreciate it more deeply.

In fact, when everyone cautions me against something, I often wonder if God is saying the opposite. If what “everyone says,” and the beautiful mind which created the Universe were in sync, what a beautiful world it would be!

(Digression. I thought of the time when I wanted to decline chemo after Stage III Bowel Cancer, and attempt a science project on my own body to find natural ways of preventing a recurrence, which would bless my body in the process, not curse it. I was staggered by the volume of unsolicited mocking and even hostile advice I got from people I had never met, people I barely knew, (and well as, of course, well-meaning people who, quite understandably believed I was being stupid). If not for two trusted friends, both women of vision and prayer, who corroborated what I heard God whisper to me, I might have been bullied into a year that would have been a nightmare of illness induced by toxic medication, rather than a peaceful idyll of recovering health. And chemo is not hugely effective for colon cancer. 30% of people who go through it die anyway; it only improves absolute survival by 10%. Digression done.)

When I heard the co-author of Grace and Forgiveness introduce her book on the power of forgiveness as worth a trillion dollars, I laughed but, yes, absolutely. She’s right!! In Grace and Forgiveness the Arnotts quote Mark Virkler: The Holy Spirit is always positive, and Satan is always negative. There is some truth to this. Negative advice from negative people cuts off hope and possibility thinking.

R. T. Kendall in The Anointing, tells of a British couple who sailed from Bombay to Southampton in 1904 to experience the Welsh Revival. When they walked off the docks at Southampton, they bumped into an acquaintance who said, “The Revival? Oh, it’s just Welsh emotionalism.”

Crushed, the couple bought a ticket on the next steamer, and returned to India.

But, as it happened, that foolish nay-sayer was wrong. In Wales, in 1904, people were experiencing God’s “love, vast as the ocean, loving kindness like a flood”. They were surrendering their lives to God, repenting of their sins, forgiving everyone who had sinned against them. They were experiencing spiritual joy, the spiritual life. All of which the couple missed because they listened to the negative words of a negative person!!

A long way to say: I am glad I went. The lines looked horrendous, but my family told me to sit down, and so I did, and brushed up on art history, totally absorbed, and all of a sudden, we were in, and I got to see as much as I had the energy for.

Botticelli, Michaelangelo, Leonardo, Raphael…

I am so grateful to the Medici for collecting these treasures, and to the last of the Medici for gifting them to Florence.

And here are a few of my favourites.

Botticelli, Madonna of Pomegranate

Botticelli’s Nativity

And note the snooty Florentines amid the adoring throngs

Botticelli’s famous La Primavera

Notice the Virgin’s cool infinity scarf

Sandro Botticelli, Madonna of the Pomegranate–beautiful angels, very fashionable virgin with a cool scarf!
Sandro Botticelli, Venus coyly rising from the foam

Botticelli, Man with a coin. Note the self-confidence of his gaze.Botticelli, Pallas (and the Centaur)

Raphael (below). The Pre-Raphaelites, Oxford undergraduates when they banded together, somewhat unfairly decided that true art ended with Raphael!

Raphael’s portrait of Pope Julius II, the tormentor who chivvied, frustrated, angered and drove Michealangelo into genius–the inhuman effort of painting the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, and, of course, crafting Julius’s own tomb.
Leonardo da Vinci’s Annunciation

Angels from Leonardo’s Baptism of Christ

Fra Lippo Lippi–This painting is one of my favourites!
I love the polychromatic angel’s wings in Lorenzo de Credi’s painting

A week in France (Boulogne-sur-Mer, St-Denys, Chartres, and Paris)

By Anita Mathias

I am looking at a year’s worth of photographs in this liminal week between Christmas and New Year.

Here are some images from the Channel Port of Boulogne-sur-Mer, a medieval French walled town, with narrow cobbled streets. We walked along the battlements, which were a mile, to the delight of Merry the Labradoodle, and enjoyed a market garden organised on the theme of the 7 deadly sins—green for envy, red for anger, yellow for sloth, purple for pride…

All photographs in this post were taken on my iPhone 6+ incidentally. Not always high quality, but you will get the flavour!

Merry came on holiday with us, and loved it!

And so did Irene

Green for envy. Loved this market garden!

Merry loved these cabbages–edible beauty. The world needs more of this if we are to cope with climate change.

A French artist copies the Basilica in front of him.

I have long wanted to explore the Basilica of St-Denis, the birthplace of Gothic architecture, in particular, of stained glass, under the leadership of the 12^th century Abbot Suger . He decided to fill his Abbey Church of St. Denis, near Paris, with “the most radiant windows” so that worshippers, surrounded by rainbowed light would feel closer to God. Medieval craftsman, transformed sand into jewels, bringing in More Light, the credo of Gothic architecture.

The Basilique Royale de Saint-Denis was the burial place of the Kings and Queens of France for a millennium, and we explored “the necropolis” with swarms of French school children, who discovered the Kings and Queens they had studied in history with yelps of delight.

Incidentally, there was a terrorist attack and a raid at Saint-Denis a week after we left, and France closed all exits, so we were grateful for safety, and that we got to enjoy the Cathedral in a peaceful, relaxed way!

Recreations of French fashion through the ages.

Paris has more dogs per capita than any other European city, and most of its fabulous gardens are dog friendly. So we went with Merry to the Jardin du Luxembourg, which was ablaze in autumn colours, backlit with brilliance.

I was amused by how Parisian parks close. No stated closing time. A gendarme appears at dusk, whistling. Everyone gets up. And he continues whistling until all we, like sheep, have peaceably left.

* * *

Another cathedral I’ve long wanted to see is Chartres, and we finally made the 75 km drive to Chartres, and it was well worth it. A magical walk by the canals, and then a trek up the hill to the Cathedral with glorious stained glass, all in “Chartres blue,” and beautiful rose windows. We then wandered around the medieval city, sampling…St. Jacques scallops and risotto for dinner, and a grazing lunch of handmade chocolates, delicious artisan bread, pain au chocolate, macarons

Chartres, another town dependent on its network of canals. A definitely maximalist architectural style

The labyrinth for walking meditations outside Chartres.

And here are some images from the Bois De Boulougne, and the Jardin de Bagatelle

The 10 Most Read Posts of 2015 on Dreaming Beneath the Spires

By Anita Mathias

Image credit

This is the lazy liminal period between Christmas and New Year, time for a psychologically healthy Ignatian Examen of the previous year—the highs and the lows; what we did well occupationally, spiritually, physically and relationally, and what we utterly failed at…and why.

Bloggers traditionally look at the previous year’s posts, and see what spoke to people… and what did not!!

Here, if you missed them, or would like to revisit them, are my most read posts of 2015.

1 A God’s Eye View on the Migrant Crisis

2 The Best Thing You Can Do with Your Life: Sign It Over. (Inspired by Bill Bright.)

(I really truly believe this, incidentally)

3 On Cancer, Declining Chemotherapy, Healing, and Future Plans

My year was defined by my quixotic quest to recover from Stage III colorectal cancer though diet, exercise and supplements (and without any treatment!)

4 When You Think it’s All Over, And That End is a New Beginning

The infinitely creative God lovingly calls us to new beginnings when everything, everything seems to have collapsed around us. (Another core conviction)

5 “Thin Places,” Where the Boundaries between the Spiritual and Physical Worlds are Almost Transparent

6 In which the Afflicted are Comforted in Ways We Cannot Guess (In Memory of Kayla Mueller)

Perhaps because my energy was low this year, I only wrote things I really, truly believe.

7 At the End of Broken Dreams, an Open Door

8 7 Things I Learned from Simon Vibert’s “Stress: The Path to Peace”

9 When the City of Light Goes Dark. Finding Hope in an Age of Terrorism

10 In which God Creates Beauty from My Mistakes

tied with

10 Is “ending those Muslims,” as Jerry Falwell advises, the way of Jesus? Aren’t there other ways?

And here are my top ten posts of all time, all of which have had several thousand views.

1 John Leonard Dober and David Nitschman: The Moravian Missionaries who Sold themselves into Slavery

2 Yeah, Praise the Lord, Anyway, Even for Fleas.

3 Chronos and Chairos: Time and God’s Time

4 Why I Am No Longer a Roman Catholic

5 I Said to the Man who Stood at the Gate of the Year

6 My Experience of The Baptism in the Holy Spirit and of Speaking in Tongues

7 10 Reflections after Listening to Heidi Baker

8 On Mustard Seeds and Malignant Polyps

9 Lonnie Frisbee, the Most Influential Gay Christian in the Last Century

10 Walking on the Waters, Looking at Jesus, in the Shadow of the Big C (who Must not be Named)

Analysing my Experience of Prayer over the Last 19 Years

By Anita Mathias

So I come to my time of prayer, and I am dry and distracted. My thoughts are whirling; I cannot hear God speak, and I have nothing to say. My spirit feels numb. Prayer?

It’s as if you are having coffee with a friend you haven’t seen for a while, and you are so out of touch with her life, and she with yours, that you don’t know what to ask, don’t know what to tell, don’t know what to talk about. The conversation is leaden; you want to escape.

Keeping in touch is a sure way to better conversation, whether with God or a friend.

I pick up my pen. Since my mind cannot focus on ethereal prayer, I will write my prayers. Write my worries, my plans, and my fears. Check in with Jesus about each of them. That pathway into prayer–writing my prayers–never fails.

* * *

I write. I think. I pray. I sink, absorbed, into the quietness.

I had come to prayer so distracted, so out of touch with God, with nothing to say, my thoughts and emotions whirling restlessly.

But I had forced myself into the boat of prayer, and Christ and I together had pushed far away from shore.

It got quiet. It got peaceful. Long, still sheets of water everywhere. Slowly, a fish plopped up. A worry.

My writing?

I take that worry to God.

I don’t hear anything.

I ask the question again. So Lord, will I have a writing career, of sorts? And wait.

Slowly, clarity emerges.

I go back to my origin story. The clear call of God to write one day in 1983. A call which, for too long a time in my life, I have not been faithful to.

I will return to that. I will be faithful to my call. I will leave success and failure to him. I will keep writing. I will keep reading. I will study the craft as time permits. I will get better, that is certain. He will use my words to reach others, of that too I feel certain. I will run in my lane and leave the results of my race to him.

* * *

Other fish poke their heads out of the temporarily still sea. Our family business, and how to make it grow? My daughters’ future.

Ideas come, reassurance. Some questions remain question marks, of course. Not every answer is given in every session of prayer, but they are now question marks bathed in golden light.

I grow still and quiet. We have rowed so far from shore.

I had 36 minutes free, and so I set a timer.

When the timer goes, it is a wrench.

I have been in another country.

Without being too fanciful, I have felt the heavens part; I have felt grace rain down. I have felt the Spirit. Something has shifted in my soul. Its molecules have changed, its water become wine. I feel an expansive peace. Something of God’s life, of God’s love for me has entered into and enlarged my soul.

* * *

I have been mostly disciplined in prayer since a dark patch of disappointment in late 1996. I had been led on by an editor of a leading publishing company, who I had thought had given me a verbal assurance that he would publish my book. I had a leading agent, I thought–though we hadn’t signed.

The book I wrote was a disappointment to both of them, and, if I look at it now, will, almost certainly, be a disappointment to me. But it was written through pregnancy and early motherhood…in blood.

When, after revisions, it was still turned down, I flung myself facedown on the carpet and thought, “I want to die.”

* * *

“I am sick,” I then said to myself. I am spiritually sick. And Jesus said he was the Physician. I need him.

And having a wee bit of a practical streak, I thought: How much prayer and Bible study do I need to have the life of God course through my soul? And that is a question Scripture is silent on. It can only be answered by trial and error, and the answer can vary. On busy days, Martin Luther said he needed three hours of prayer (rather than his usual two). I needed to find my own answer.

So I set a stopwatch, prayed and read my Bible until I was bored, and then stopped. I was not at peace, but I was growing distracted. I was discovering my baseline for prayer, just as when I began the discipline of exercise, I walked until I was tired, wrote down my distance and speed, and then began to increase both (and am still increasing them, oh yes!)

When I was 17, I wanted to become a nun, and I did for a while, joining Mother Teresa. This was the discipline of prayer there: you didn’t prolong prayer, because you found it sweet, otherwise you would soon burn out. And you do not cut it short, because you were bored, otherwise, you would quit before you got quiet, got still, repented, heard God, tasted the sweetness of it all.

The next day I set a timer for the time I had spent, and just a minute more, and went on, adding a minute a day, dividing my quiet time between prayer and Bible study. I stopped at 90 minutes–45 minutes for prayer, 45 minutes for Bible study (though, in fact, now that the girls are older, I often end up spending even longer than that in spiritual disciplines! My soul needs it!)

Over the years, I found peace. I found serenity. I got to know Jesus a whole lot better. In prayer, God suggested ways to move from Williamsburg, Virginia, where I wasn’t particularly happy, to Oxford, where I am happy. In prayer, I “heard of” a business idea which changed our lives. In prayer, I “heard” God suggest blogging, which I so love. I prayed for my dream house with a very specific wishlist, and I stumbled on an ad, and God revealed ways to just about afford it.

But all these are side effects. My character began to change, molecule by molecule, and that is one of the gratifying side effects of a life of prayer. I became a kinder person, more empathetic.

My life of prayer is not a story of remarkable worldly success. And so I cannot recommend prayer as a way to become rich, become famous, become a great writer. To take up a discipline of prayer for the worldly advantages it might confer is like marrying only for money, or only for sex, and we know all how that works out, don’t we?

T. S. Eliot looking back on the first twenty years of his life as a writer says,

Twenty years largely wasted

Trying to learn to use words, and every attempt

Is a wholly new start, and a different kind of failure.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, that’s how I feel as a writer and as a pray-er.

But then, what Stephen King says about writing is equally true about prayer.

Writing isn’t about making money, getting famous, getting dates, or getting laid, or making friends. It’s about enriching the lives of those who will read your work, and enriching your own as well. It’s about getting up, getting well, and getting over. Getting happy, okay? Getting happy. Writing is magic, the water of life. The water is free. So drink. Drink and be filled up.

Prayer is everything Stephen King says writing is, and more.

It is not a sure way to worldly reward, though it has brought wealth and success to some, according to the plan of God for their lives

However, though material rewards are not guaranteed, as Jesus said, rewards are guaranteed. We pray for the fun of hanging out with Jesus, to get his take on things, to see life with his eyes, to absorb his wisdom. We pray because with the discipline of prayer comes lightness and joy. With the discipline of prayer and obedience comes peace and calm, wisdom and guidance. Water for a parched soul. Sanity. We pray so we can be enlarged by loving something larger than ourselves, and that is the Lord Jesus himself.

We pray because it is our daily bread. Jesus may choose to give some of us nutella too, and I still pray for metaphorical “nutella”, and grilled cheese and homemade blackberry jam, and according to the lane he has marked for me, the work he has given me to do in the world, and the people he has given me to influence, he may well give me some of these things. Or he may not. But tasting Jesus is fun, and joy and wisdom, and for these gifts from the discipline of prayer, I am grateful.

anita.mathias