by Ashley Haupt | Mar 21, 2013
Sitting in my office early one morning recently, I tried to pray for someone who’s hurting. Hurting very badly.
And I almost couldn’t do it.
Because in prayer, we enter into the person’s pain, feel it with them, and try to assuage it by bearing the burden to the Father on their behalf.
We come with our own pains sometimes and so maybe we limp into His presence, already feeling heavy with the weight of ourselves.
We feel the gentle press of the Spirit in sympathy, in burden, in heaviness, and we know we must make great effort to clear out distraction, set ourselves aside, and pray. Sometimes we have to roll aside the massive weight of our own selfish hearts.
So, through prayer, we become the friends of the paralytic, hoisting a corner of the mat and heading for Jesus. And maybe, mysteriously, we lighten the load. Maybe, in a sense, that injured person lifts up weary head with tired neck, and sees Jesus in sight where once was darkness and defeat.
That invisible Holy Spirit blows through a mind cluttered with fear and worry, and suddenly hope lights up on the wind, like a kite soaring.
Can we do this for someone else this week?
Oh Lord, teach us to pray.
by Ashley Haupt | Feb 21, 2013
Downton fans everywhere experienced a sad Sunday night recently when Matthew Crawley, a fictional character firmly established in our affections, died an untimely death just minutes after holding his newborn son. Aside from his endearing honesty and noble character, one of the main reasons we all loved Matthew so much was his ability to soften and win the heart of the beautiful but fickle Mary Crawley.
The last episode, which gave little to no warning of the coming doom, highlighted a certain dynamic in their relationship that makes his death all the more tragic. Matthew made Mary a better person by loving her, marrying her, and often reminding her who she was in his eyes, and how her current behavior did not fit that description. He believed in the best version of her.
Mary, by her own admission, was given to cynicism, criticism, and sometimes even coldness in her relationships. She often quarreled bitterly with her sister Edith. In the last tragic episode, Matthew is declaring his love for and belief in Mary, and she says to him:
I hope I’m allowed to be your Mary Crawley for all of eternity and not Edith’s version, or not anyone else’s for that matter.
In marriage, friendship, or other close relationships, we have the power not only to seethe best version of our loved one, but also in doing so, to help that person be a better version of themselves. Jesus gave new names to certain individuals who were close to him. Not just new names, but new names heavy with significance and story.
Do we remind our spouse or our closest friends who they are to us? Do we help them see the best version of themselves and in doing so, give them the boost they need to live up to their potential? What if someone did that for us?
Matthew’s parting gift to Mary, besides a precious baby boy, may well be a clearer vision of the best version of herself.
I think we all need that.
by Ashley Haupt | Feb 13, 2013
Anyone who’s read me for long knows about my year long study of grace. That was a necessary journey for me, and one that has forever changed the landscape of my soul. You cannot draw near to the exquisite grace of God and come away unscathed.
However, for some time now, I’ve been drifting just a bit, struggling with desire and motivation. Praying for direction and guidance and grace for my weaknesses, yearning to see sanctification at work. I do believe now there was a hole in my holiness.
I purchased this book for Tim for Christmas. I thought my motives were pure in getting him a gift, but it possible that I was intrigued by it myself, because it wasn’t far into January before I picked it up and began reading.
From chapter one, Mind the Gap, to chapter ten, That All May See Your Progress, the author, Kevin DeYoung, seemed to be preaching directly to me. In me, there was a gap, it needed to be minded, and I felt that gap gloriously bridged through the reading of this book.
We can carry around connection confusion in our minds without being fully aware of it until some of those vital intersections meet. So it was with me. After immersing myself in a (very necessary) study of grace, I had some lingering confusion over these issues:
- the place of Law now in our lives as Christians
- how to practically pursue holiness with an understanding of grace
- what it looks like for grace to be at work in me
- striving, effort, and hard work in the Christian life
- separating holiness from legalism, pursuing the one and rejecting the other
DeYoung answers all of these questions and others that I didn’t even know I had until I read. I believe this book contains a vital message that fuels believers with conviction for the holy lives God is calling them to lead. I needed that. I didn’t know how much until I started reading.
I have to restrain myself from over-quoting this book, but I’ll just end with one helpful quote about the use of Law in our lives now that we are blood-bought believers.
“We usually think of law leading us to gospel. And this is true–we see God’s standards, see our sin, and then see our need for a Savior. But it’s just as true that gospel leads to law. In Exodus, first God delivered his people from Egypt, then he gave the Ten Commandments. . . I simply want to show that the good news of the gospel leads to gracious instructions for obeying God.“
If you are interested in purchasing this book (and I recommend it highly!), simply click on the quote above to find it available at Amazon in print or kindle/nook.
Originally blogged at Little Pieces of Ordinary.
by Ashley Haupt | Feb 10, 2013
Before we were married, I heard the illustration that marriage is like a triangle and the closer you each get to God, the closer you will grow toward each other.
And I liked that. Neat and tidy and hopeful. But after seven years, I’m not sure marriage follows neat little formulas.
Now I think it’s a little more like a kite with two strings. And we’re each holding one and God is our wind; it wouldn’t even stay up in the air without him. But still we wrestle.
We give it too much slack, that marriage kite, and it soars away too far, each of us busily managing our own isolated strings. No one tames the wind or the Holy Spirit and we start to snap, crackle, and pop under the strain of that distance we’ve allowed.
So we have to draw it back in, winding our way back to each other and a safer place. And sometimes, like last week, we’re just mad and we jerk angrily at the slack, wrestling words and folly.
But we don’t let go, and God and the wind and Holy Spirit keep blowing, and it’s a triangle after all.
So we keep on flying that kite.
And it’s beautiful.
by Ashley Haupt | Feb 7, 2013
A wild wind whistled at the windows blowing in the rain on the night I lost my baby.
I didn’t feel any different. I was tired and happy and thinking about Charlotte for a girl and Jonathan for a boy.
Then I used the bathroom before bed.
Red. Stop sign red, danger zone red, end of dreams red.
Do not pass go. Do not collect $200.
We’d only known for 48 hours, but it was enough time for the female mind to choose a name, a preferred gender, and mentally rearrange the kids’ bedrooms to free up the crib.
The next day, it rained. All day. We had a plumbing problem and my brother-in-law came to fix it. I made calls, cleaned house, mailed a letter, prepared food, while the rueful rain fell and my baby left my body.
During the boys’ nap times, I lit a candle, thought of the little one that might have been, but wasn’t. The weather empathized with me; we grieved together.
And through it all, peace.
Peace in knowing He is good, His plans for me are right, and His grace is abundant.
In every trial, every valley deeper and darker than before, He gives greater grace, always.
Always.