Tag: holy spirit (page 2 of 2)

How Costco is Soul-shaping

Sunday I went to Costco for hamburgers and came home with a vacuum cleaner.

I’d like to think it was my reward for surviving the Costco parking lot without committing murder or at least swearing, but maybe not so much.

My experiences at Costco have gotten me to thinking about this post from last December that I needed to remember in July…

I was maneuvering laboriously, with stops and starts, through the parking lot at Costco yesterday, thinking for the millionth time that the Costco parking lot is either an outer ring of hell or a brilliant opportunity for spiritual formation.  

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Bicycle Rules and Listening to God

Ever have God just show up and startle the bejesus out of you? (and where did that word, bejesus come from?)

First a little background…

Did you know that Minneapolis is the number one biking city in the country?  Yeah!  Even more than any of the twig-and-bark-eater cities out west!  We have more bike paths than any of them.

And there are a heck-of-a-lot-of bikers out there.  I know because most of them pass me on their slick road bikes.

When you pass someone the unspoken rule is that you say “On your left.” so they’re not startled and don’t swerve and end up causing a 10-bike pile-up with blood and need for super-hero bandaids.

The problem comes when people (and by people, I mean me) have earbuds in and are listening to other stuff.  I get startled a lot.  And the other day I got startled when I was listening to a message about hearing God’s voice.

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The Name of Your House

I’ve shared here before, about our daughters Katy and Maggie who are living together in Washington D.C…the Lucy and Ethel road trip we took to move Maggie out this September, and the story that’s been unfolding as they search for a faith community and pursue their dreams.

But here’s one thing that’s been bugging me.  They keep referring to the house where their apartment is as “The Haunted House.”

Now granted, theirs is the only occupied apartment in this 4-plex, but the reason they call it that has nothing to do with weird noises or needing Ghost busters.  It’s just that they live on a delightful street of well-kept row-houses and theirs, in comparison, looks like the stereotypical haunted house.

Theirs is the one to the left of the cute blue one with the flag out.  The one with the rusty wrought iron fence and the chipping paint you can’t see from here.

For a long time they couldn’t turn off their stove unless they unplugged it.  And the smoke detector was so sensitive that it screamed every time they made toast.

Green Gables.  Sunnybrook Farm.  Graceland.  Haunted House.

Haunted House?

That name may suit the outside appearance, but not the heart and spirit of the place.

Walls have echoed with lively conversation among friends about what church should be, laughter has spilled out the windows as folks have gathered around the girls’ tiny table for meals.  Hugs have been shared.  Plots have been hatched.  Love has abounded.

“Lord, I love the house where You live, the place where Your glory dwells.” Ps. 26:8

“And in Him you too are being built together to become a dwelling in which God lives by His spirit.” Ephesians 2:22

A dwelling where God lives… like the home I grew up in that was a warm hug – safe, loving, making everything ok.  My friend Sue’s beautiful home on a lake that’s a home of grace, peace…a refuge.  My friend Deborah’s home that exclaims “Welcome!” and overflows with the abundant hospitality of God.  My sister-in-law, Betsy’s house is one of joy and laughter.

Homes where God lives.

 What might your home be named?  

Come Holy Spirit

I was maneuvering laboriously, with stops and starts, through the parking lot at Costco yesterday, thinking for the millionth time that the Costco parking lot is either an outer ring of hell or a brilliant opportunity for spiritual formation.  

As I dodged runaway giant shopping carts,

and waited for pedestrians absorbed in studying their shopping lists wandering blindly in the middle of the row,

and backed up for cars in front of me that slammed on their brakes upon spying the tell-tale white reverse lights of a car vacating a parking place they could nab

I thought of a spiritual practice a friend of mine has been advocating.  The simple practice of saying “Come Holy Spirit” throughout the day in situations like this that require patience, understanding, and discipline beyond me.

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