In a previous season of my life, I learned that patience is not simply the act of waiting. Instead, patience is how one waits. Patience is the difference between waiting in anxious frustration, and waiting in calm equanimity.
In this season of my life, I’m learning to perfect my patience by not waiting at all. You need time? You’ve got it, but I’m not waiting. I’ll be moving ahead with something else. I surrender any expectations – a feat I owe to God’s grace. In this way, patience is an exercise in discipline.
Meanwhile, human beings are fallen and susceptible to hubris. We have desires, expectations and tend to want to control outcomes. This is why patience, which I understand as the discipline to detach from outcomes, challenges so many. Releasing control (or the illusion thereof) often means facing feelings of vulnerability, and requires courage. It is about cultivating the self-control required to surrender to the unknown.
Beyond courage, however, this manner of detachment requires faith. Faith is having such clarity about eternal truths that detachment from specific outcomes becomes possible: God is in charge; God is love; I am chosen; God is working things out for my good; etc. The question, therefore, is not just “In whose time will this happen?,” but “Who would presume to know better than the Creator?”
This understanding reveals why patience is such a powerful heart posture. The Word tells us that “without faith it is impossible to please God.” Patience, like the other fruits of the Spirit, is a posture of profound inner-strength. It is about trusting God’s Word – His love, grace, and timing. All is and will be exactly as it should be.
I know that my life unfolds in the hand of a Sovereign God and according to His perfect plan. From that perspective, impatience seems quite futile really. I don’t need to know or control everything, I only need to stay connected to the One who does.
Prayer is rooted in the belief that there is a power greater than oneself that can influence one’s life. The Latin word from which “prayer” is derived means “obtained by begging, to entreat.”
There is no set way to pray. Prayer has a very personal meaning arising from an individual’s religious background or spiritual practice. For some, prayer will mean specific sacred words; for others, it may be a more informal talking or listening to God or a higher power.
My own prayers are typically spoken prayers, silent prayers, and prayers of the mind, the heart, and what I can best describe as ‘union with God’. Prayers take different forms; they may be directed (with a specific outcome in mind) or non-directed. They may be intercessory, contemplative, meditative or petition.
Though what is true about prayer across the board is that it helps improve my spiritual health. Prayer helps me develop a relationship with God [1], helps me gain an understanding of God’s loving nature [2], and provides answers [3]. Prayer also helps me find direction in my life [4], gives me strength to avoid temptation [5].
Prayer invites the Holy Spirit into my life [6], aligns my will with God’s will [7], and helps me become more like Jesus [8]. Along with fasting, prayer helps me accept God’s will [9].
Moreover, prayer improves my overall wellbeing. I was surprised to learn that there has been research conducted on this issue. The research concludes that prayer can calm one’s nervous system, shutting down the fight or flight response. It can make one less reactive to negative emotions and less angry.
When prayer uplifts or calms, it inhibits the release of cortisol and other hormones, thus reducing the negative impact of stress on the immune system and promoting healing.
Ultimately, prayer begets peace. It elicits the relaxation response, which lowers blood pressure and other factors heightened by stress. It also releases control to something greater than oneself, which can reduce the stress of needing to be in charge.
Prayer brings a sense of a spiritual or loving presence and alignment with God which elicits feelings of gratitude, compassion, forgiveness, and hope, all of which are associated with healing and wellness.
– Lele M
Notes:
[1] Just like my parents here on earth, my Heavenly Father wants to hear from me and talk to me. When I pray, He listens. Then He answers my prayers.
[2] The scriptures teach, “God is love” (1 John 4:8). I can feel that love as I speak daily with Him through prayer, seeking His guidance in my life.
[3] Praying and listening to the answers God gives me can help me better understand my purpose in life.
[4] When I privately pray to God, I can work through serious decisions in my life. God always listens and often provides the specific answers and guidance we seek. Even when He chooses not to answer immediately or in the way we might have hoped, prayer itself is a way to find peace.
[5] Jesus counseled His disciples, “Watch and pray, that ye enter not into temptation” (Matthew 26:41). Through prayer, I can overcome temptations to sin. Praying for God’s help to keep me from making wrong choices gives me the strength to do what is right.
[6] As I pray daily, I invite the Holy Spirit to be with me and to comfort and direct me. The Holy Spirit can give me answers, help me feel God’s love, and bring feelings of peace and joy into my heart.
[7] The purpose of prayer is not necessarily to tell God how I want Him to do things. Rather, it’s to better understand Him and His ways, bringing myself into alignment with His will. As C.S. Lewis is often attributed as saying, prayer “doesn’t change God. It changes me.”
[8] Jesus set the perfect example of prayer. If I try to follow His example through prayer, I will become more like Him and develop a better relationship with Him and Heavenly Father.
[9] Jesus fasted for 40 days and 40 nights before He began His ministry on the earth. As He did this, He communed with God in prayer. Likewise, when I pray and fast, I feel closer to God and better understand the things He wants me to do.
I am on a journey to make my apartment a home. In my previous blogpost, I wrote about home being more than just a physical space. I reflected on the way in which home (as a place where one lives permanently) includes one’s mental latitude and, more fundamentally, the presence of God. Here, though, I address my experience with the material details of homemaking.
A home requires several practical components; lighting, heating, seating, refrigeration, etc. One seldom contemplates these practical demands when fantasizing about moving out and living on their own. This is the unalluring facet of not just homemaking, but growing up – adulting, as they say.
For the first time, I am actually contending with the price of a stove, fridge, microwave, sofa, and other articles of furniture. And boy is there plenty with which to contend! Even electricity, water, and refuse are primary considerations for maintaining a home. I don’t believe anything could have prepared me for the fiscal task of transforming my space into my home – my sanctuary.
This has been a proper test of my character. I have had to employ a range of competencies to navigate this journey – such as planning, focus, self-control, awareness, and flexibility. I am learning that homemaking and life-management are concomitant. Both require aptitude in managing time, managing money, communicating with others, maintaining one’s environment, healthcare and self-care, stress management, building personal relationships, and setting healthy boundaries.
Sometimes I feel overwhelmed and frustrated by the undertaking, other times I feel ineffective and helpless. At all times I am grateful. Thank God that my help cometh from the Lord. Thank God that my life was never mine to manage nor my home mine to make.
I moved into a new place recently. It is a small cottage in a lovely, quiet suburb. It is easily the most beautiful and peaceful place I’ve had to learn to call home.
I’ve always regarded myself as a homebody. Not only am I an introvert, I prefer to stay indoors. I don’t just want to be alone, I want to be alone at home. I have been through seasons when I never wanted to leave the house because I was uncomfortable being in public and socializing. There have been two such periods which I can recall – once during my teens, and again coming into my twenties. Both these periods lasted about two years.
During these times I would leave the house only when it was absolutely essential. I would be irked even by those tasks which were indeed imperative and required that I step out of my comfort zone. Home was my safe space. I did not necessarily love and enjoy being in the space I called ‘home’, I simply preferred it because it was where I could be on my own, and embrace my reclusive state. This distinction will become important later.
On the other hand, I have been through other seasons during which I felt a deep discomfort being home such that I would look for reasons to stay away. These didn’t even have to be good reasons; any would do. Whether it was being out with friends, at school doing extracurricular activities, visiting relatives – I would be eager to leave the house, and I would dread returning. When I was home, I would itch for reasons to leave again.
Fascinatingly, the reason behind this strong aversion was the same reason that I had, at other times, preferred to stay in; being at home meant being on my own. Though during these times the mere thought made me uneasy. I was uncomfortable with my own thoughts. And after a while of running from my thoughts incessantly, there was the added and overwhelming deterrent that they had become unfamiliar to me. I simply didn’t know how to be with and handle my thoughts – my own stillness was foreign to me. These seasons, too, have occurred more than once in my life, and also spanned an approximate duration of two years.
However, for as long as I can remember, I have never had the experience of loving my home and loving being home. I have never had a healthy relationship with my home. Whether it was my childhood home or a university residence, I viewed these spaces in one of two ways.
I viewed home either as nothing more than a desperate hiding place, akin to how an addict views their drug of dependence – no longer using for the euphoria it may induce, but for fear of being sober. A mere lesser evil.
Alternatively, I viewed home as my demons’ lair, a den of terror to be avoided my any means necessary. It was a place where my thoughts would be forced into the light of silence and solitude, a place which threatened to expose the dark corners in my mind into which I was not yet ready to venture.
When I fell in love with God, my perspective on home changed drastically, such that I’ve discovered that I am a homemaker at heart. Imagine that! I don’t just love homemaking, I delight in it. It actually brings me joy.
I take pleasure and pride in creating a clean and peaceful environment for myself and others. I find fulfillment in tasks such as cleaning, cooking, baking, and decorating in the home. I love to fill the space with lovely aromas, whether through gentle scented candles, a pot of savoury stew on the stove, or freshly baked chocolate brownies cooling on the kitchen counter. I love to set the atmosphere with beautiful flowers, pictures, and furniture.
Along with this revelation of myself, I came to realize that this is the healthy middle I had never known and never experienced – this ‘loving being home’, and also ‘enjoying being out of the home’ was strange.
After all, I’ve learned, it is on my afternoon walks when I take in my surroundings that I realize how much I appreciate nature and flowers in particular. I stop to smell their petals and stroke their leaves. These experiences of mindfulness in my outdoor natural surroundings, bring me to want and appreciate flowers in my domestic space. Being outdoors helps me to appreciate my time indoors even more, and inspires me to make my home the perfect sanctuary for me.
I am ultimately finding that homemaking requires me to be comfortable both in my home and outside my home. Don’t get me wrong, although all things are possible through God, I’ll probably always be an introvert. Even outdoors, I’ll likely always prefer the spaces that are least populated.
Though despite my personality and disposition, I am learning to feel at home regardless of where I am. I am learning that God is my true home, and He is always with me. Home is always with me. I am always home.
A year ago I had a dream of living in my own space, where I could venture a deeper intimacy with God, live in submission to his will, and enjoy the still and constant companionship of the Holy Spirit.
I write this piece in the half-empty apartment which has been my modest home for a month already. I write to declare that God is faithful.
I am humbled to think back at how God moved the pieces throughout 2021 and took charge of my situation to do exactly what he said he would do. The people he put in my life which have become key features of this season – leaders, helpers, counsel.
For the first time in my life, perhaps because it’s the first time I’ve paid attention, I can feel God loving me through the people in my life. I can hear his voice and feel his hand in the peculiar encounters on my way to work, at the office, while running errands. What a glorious grace.
Thank God for the grace to recognise his presence in my life. Otherwise, I would conclude (in my flesh) that I am simply not doing enough to be sensitive to his move. In my unwitting hubris and attachment to outcomes I would deduce that I needed to pray more, fast more, etc. That somehow God’s move was up to my behaviour.
I give thanks for reminders that humble me, gentle reminders that the course of my life is decidedly out of my control. God is God in spite of my conduct.
I am, however, currently undergoing a ‘spiritual reset’ – an endeavour to fortify spiritual disciplines such as prayer, fasting, and studying. I am reverting to the tone of my spiritual life this time a year ago. I am returning to strict adherence to spiritual disciplines in my routine.
I am yearning for a closeness, a clarity, and a peace which I can only find in Jehovah. I am looking to abide, intentionally. For no other reason than that he has been who he has been. He has been consistently reliable. And I only have to open my eyes each morning to see it.
I am, quite literally, living in the abundance of his faithfulness. Glory be to the Sovereign God.
I am learning that comfort is an illusion. Particularly in the context of ‘comfort zones’.
I consider myself an introvert. I feel spent after an hour in social settings. I need to retreat into my shell for hours to recharge. I prefer time alone with my thoughts. I’m most comfortable in my own space and there are really only 2 or 3 people around whom I truly come alive.
But God is putting me to the test. In seeking his kingdom, I must seek fellowship with his people. In wanting more of Christ, I yearn for connection with believers, and fellowship in the Body. I yearn to venture beyond my comfort zone, and feel rather comfortable in that endeavour. I am having to learn to pursue connections in a way that has upturned my understanding of myself and my introversion.
Most people don’t believe me when I say I’m an introvert. Usually, I would try to convince them otherwise. I would hurry to tell them not to mistake confidence for extroversion, assure them I’ve had years of practice in public speaking, debating, performing arts, etc. Now I just smile a grateful, knowing smile. I’m coming to understand that something bigger is at play. Those aren’t the reasons I don’t pass as an introvert.
#1: I am grateful for the splendor of God’s majesty.
#2: I am grateful for weekends spent alone.
#3: I am grateful for the companionship of the holy spirit.
I had a bit of practice picking pretty flowers beforehand so I loved it all the more. This is my new favorite thing to do outdoors. I t has made me more attentive to the oversufficiency of casual beauty around us.
#1: I am grateful to be used by God in the lives of others.
#2: I am grateful for the enterprise of book writing, publishing and selling.
#3: I am grateful for the moral support I enjoyed from a kind co-conspirator who hid the notes with me.
I had written the three notes of encouragement before I left my place earlier. I now wish I’d left a way for the future readers to contact me. Alas, for now, my work is done.
Lele Muthali 