Edie Wadsworth

Lord, I believe? {Lent Day 17}

March 9, 2015 by Edie Wadsworth 4 Comments

This is day 17 in an email Lenten devotional series. Join us?

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Texts: Psalm 38:13-15, Gen. 29:1-30, Mark 9: 14-32, Luke 15: 18-19

I will arise and go to my father and I will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Treat me as one of your hired servants.”

Well, the snow finally gave way to warm sunshine this weekend and not ten minutes after we ate our brunch of broiled salmon, soft scrambled eggs, & cowboy potatoes, a tree swallow swooped in outside the glass doors trying to get our attention. Being the good bird man he is, Stevie jumped up from his feast to watch our friend dive and hover and search around the homestead for his gourd. This is our first tree swallow sighting of the season and since they usually return to the same nest year after year we feel a certain warm familiarity with the little guy. Before he had even finished his coffee, Stevie was on the lake bank lowering the gourd to clean it out and make sure everything was ready for Spring nesting. It’s probably too early for them to be back for good but it was fun to see the first real live sign of Spring.

The prodigal is not quite home yet either—he too is hovering around trying to figure out how to get there. This seems evident by the fact that he wants to earn his way back into the family by becoming one of his father’s hired servants.

He realizes he has sinned against heaven and against his father. That’s an important start. But like us, he figures the solution for what he has done is something he is capable of fixing— if he tries hard enough, is earnest enough, if he joins enough Bible studies and goes on enough mission trips.

Ken Bailey in The Cross and the Prodigal says, “Sadly, the prodigal does not yet understand the nature of his sin. He thinks the issue is the lost money. It isn’t! It is the father’s broken heart. The problem is not the broken law but the broken relationship. If he is a servant, he can get a job, earn the money back, and pay his debts. But if he is a son of the house, such a solution will not satisfy his father.”

And such a solution will not satisfy our father either.

The grace that he freely gives us as his children is a stumbling block to us. We don’t fathom it and we don’t really believe it. In our Gospel lesson today, Jesus heals a boy with an unclean Spirit and then he tells the father of the boy, “Anything is possible for those who believe. The father speaks the most honest answer ever spoken when he says, “Lord, I believe, help Thou my unbelief.” And the kicker is that the belief we need is itself is a gift from him—one that we must receive by faith.

We have come to God looking for a transaction. But our father is not looking for day laborers. He is looking for sons and daughters to whom he can lavish the gifts and mysteries of His kingdom. We want to show him our skills & talents and He wants to show us His Son. We want to tidy up our outsides and he wants to raise us to life. We want glory. He chose suffering. We have been wrong at every turn and He has met us at every turn with love and forgiveness.

We want to flitter around the edges of our Father’s abundance and He wants to kill the fatted calf and make merry in a feast that never ends.

Lord, we believe. Help our unbelief.

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You Don’t Need to Change the World

March 3, 2015 by Edie Wadsworth 11 Comments

from Day 12 of my Lenten devotional email series on the prodigal son and yes, it’s never too late to join us!

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Texts: Psalm 126, Gen. 21:1-21, Mark 6, 35-56, Luke 15: 16

“He was longing to be fed with the pods that the pigs ate, and no one gave him anything.”

When I left my job as a family doctor and became a “stay at home” mom for the first time ever, I was determined to figure out how to put dinner on the table. Mostly because EVERYBODY IS ALWAYS HUNGRY at my house. They want dinner. As in, EVERY single night. And breakfast and lunch and snacks. FORTHELOVE.

But how hard could it be, right?

MmmHmm.

REALLY hard is how hard, as all you moms can surely stand up and shout a hearty AMEN. And despite the fact that I write about feeding my family quite a bit, I still struggle with it some days. A lot of days, actually.

But slowly over months and years I became pretty proficient at feeding us. And somewhere along the way I realized that as simple as it sounds, feeding my people is part of God’s work for me. It’s a beautiful and sacred thing. It’s so ordinary and necessary and life-giving and humbling and rewarding.

But it also drives me crazy—thinking of new things to make, the constantly dirty kitchen, the millions of dishes, the sheer amount of times you have to handle the food by the time you’ve eaten it and are cleaning it up. It’s easy to dream of a bigger purpose for my life. Wasn’t I made for more than this?

I don’t know if I was or not but I do know that Jesus spent His life feeding people and caring for their most basic needs. The God of the universe thinks so much of feeding people that the night before He died, when He gave His last will and testament, he told his disciples to carry on the sacred work of feeding His sheep.

In the prodigal story, the younger son is in the far country and he’s squandered everything he received from his father’s estate. He’s so hungry that he’d take pig’s food. And no respectable Jew would ever have considered that.

But the scripture says, no one gave him anything. That verse haunted my dreams at night when I was studying the prodigal story last year. No one gave him anything. He’s outside the fold. He has wandered from the pasture, like all sheep do. Like you and I constantly do. He is in dangerous territory because he has rebelled against the one person who always made sure he had food—his father.

And there’s more feeding in Mark’s Gospel today where a crowd shows up for Jesus.

5,000 men and their families. And they’re hungry. The disciples want to send them away but Jesus simply says, “Give them something to eat.”

We are the sheep of God’s pasture and it’s not our job to change the world. It’s our job to stay in the pasture and eat. And eat and eat and eat some more. To receive His Word, to receive the Supper, to stay close to the Shepherd.

Then mostly by our fumbling, we can lead other lost sheep to the bounty of God’s table so they can eat too.

Our job is to eat and then share that good food with our neighbor, starting with the ones who live in our houses.

You don’t need to change the world.

Just make dinner.

It’s practically the same thing.

Me & My Self-Righteous Lent

February 19, 2015 by Edie Wadsworth 9 Comments

This is day 2 of my Lenten devotional on the prodigal son. I hope you find some hope and encouragement here. Click Here to Download the 40 day devotional study!

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Texts: Psalm 8: 1-6, Gen. 1:20-2:3, Mark 1:14-28

Eight years ago, I observed the season of Lent for the first time. We had just joined a historic, liturgical church and I was completely fascinated by the rich history & ritual of it all, things I had seriously doubted and even mocked when I was 25 and knew everything there was to know about serious Christianity. (insert a little compassionate hug for my 25 year old self)I wanted to do Lent right. I wanted to be the best at Lent. I wanted to repent and remember and deny myself like nobody’s business. I wanted to show those Lutherans what Lent could really look like if an over-achieving (perhaps slightly self-righteous) evangelical got a hold of it. I went into Lent with all the serious spiritual contemplation I could muster, complete with a journal to jot down all my spiritual growth. And oh the spiritual growth I was anticipating. If there had been a #christiangirlinstagram hashtag back in the day, I would have worn it out. (Do yourself a favor and follow @johnbcrist on Instagram.) (#christiangirlinstagram is a parody on how we as christian girls like to document our devotion to the Lord in ever more creative ways. It’s painfully hilarious.)

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If Lent were the equivalent of me taking a walk, I looked down at my feet the whole time, admiring my awesome cowboy boots, or my spiritual progress, as it were. So I say this very much from experience that the greatest temptation during Lent is not that you won’t be able to keep your Lenten discipline. The greatest temptation is that you will constantly take your spiritual temperature, wondering if you are in fact becoming better and better. I’ll give you the cliff notes of my first self-righteous Lent. The way you’ll know you’re making progress is that you won’t see any progress at all. What you’ll see is more sin, more selfishness, less discipline, more temptation, less patience, less love. Why? Because the more you hear the Word & meditate on it, the more sin it will expose in you, like turning spotlights on the dirty corners of your house.

If your Lenten journey is really successful, you’ll get to the end of it and wonder how you can still be so far off. And that’s exactly the point. Lent reminds us how lost we are, how self-absorbed we are, how far we are from ever being what we were created to be.

When we finally despair with our pathetic attempts to be more spiritual, when we finally put to death all our preconceived ideas about being holy and righteous, when we empty ourselves of ourselves, He will fill us with all good things. And those good things will turn us outside ourselves toward our neighbor. We will finally look up and realize that we’re not walking just to walk. We’re walking with our neighbors, who despite our weak and faltering faith, need us. And they don’t need us to be super spiritual overachievers whose Lenten journals are full of deep insights. They just need a cup of water or a maybe some soup, perhaps even someone to finally make them laugh.

In the Gospel reading for today, Jesus calls his first disciples and the text says they “immediately” went to Capernaum where Jesus healed a man possessed with an unclean spirit. They didn’t have a goal setting meeting on how to best plot their spiritual growth. They looked around and saw that the world is hurting and dying so they got right to work.

Let’s not succomb to the very real temptation to watch our own feet as we walk this road together. Look up. Look around & outward. And when we stop worrying about ourselves and our own progress and begin offering our gifts of love and healing to our neighbors, we will see the beauty of His life in us—a life meant to be poured out for others.

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Finding Your Calling in the Chaos

February 16, 2015 by Edie Wadsworth 19 Comments

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Two days after my house burned down in 2010, I was in Knoxville with my sister getting the bare essentials. Things like makeup and cowboy boots and a computer. I shudder when I look back at the photos. I had a black eye from jumping out of my two story window wore ill fitting borrowed clothes for days. I think it was the lack of hair products though that made me look the most pitiful.

We walked by Williams Sonoma and I went in to look at their soup pots. My sister very kindly and tenderly said, “Um, sis, you don’t even have a stove.”

Oh yeah, the little detail of my house just burning down.

I bought the soup pot anyways.

Two days after everything I owned burned to the ground, I was now the proud owner of a computer, some cowboy boots, and a dutch oven, while my stove and a lifetime of memories lay in an ashy heap beside the turquoise chair. People fed me for weeks, God bless them every one, but I found my way back to life again by making soup, by feeding my people.

That very same dutch oven sits on my stovetop everyday and reminds me that my calling is to serve and love and feed and I can do that no matter what burns down around me. There’s always some one right in front of me who has needs that I am perfectly suited to meet, regardless of my education level, my current job, or my socioeconomic status in life.

Lent begins this Wednesday and every time it comes around now, I think of the fire.

“Dust you are and to dust you shall return.”

Lent reminds us that we aren’t yet home. Lent reminds us not to settle too comfortably into this world, to travel lightly so that we may have hands free to serve our neighbor on the way. Lent reminds us why God came to us in the flesh—not to give us wealth and prosperity, not to destroy our enemies, not to set up a powerful earthly kingdom, no, none of that.

He came to serve, to give His life as a ransom for many. He came to die.

So, before we rush on ahead to the blessed Easter resurrection, let us walk with Christ through the dark—His pain and agony, the betrayals and lies, the night of our own sin, the stronghold of our self-righteousness, the doubt of our weak and failing faith. Let us walk with Him to His cross and find that the Hope of the world was running to rescue us all along, to give us life and salvation and to fit us with a the sacred calling of sharing that love with the world.

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It would be my honor for you to join me in a 40 day Lenten devotional of the Prodigal Son. The sign up period ends tonight at midnight EST.

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The devotional study will include a near daily email with occasional videos and access to a private Facebook group for discussion. At the end of the study, those registered will receive a pdf of all the material in one easy to access document, along with printable quotes that will be used along the way. The study is free and there are no required materials. Resources that I will be using are—Finding the Lost, Cultural Keys to Luke 15 by Kenneth Bailey, Grace Upon Grace by John Kleinig, The Commentary on Luke by Arthur Just, Jesus Through Middle Eastern Eyes by Kenneth Bailey, and The Cross & The Prodigal by Kenneth Bailey. Also, the ESV translation of the Scriptures.

Join the study by filling out this form.

The ONE Thing I Got Right Today

February 2, 2015 by Edie Wadsworth 22 Comments

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It’s been a Monday around these parts. Maybe even worse than a typical Monday. Perhaps a bulleted list is in order. This is what it has looked like so far:

Laundry chaos (I apparently stacked every outfit I wore in January on the sofa in my bedroom. It wasn’t pretty. It took two hours to pilfer through it and get its contents to their appropriate places and when I finally got to the bottom, I found my hair dryer. Which I have looked for in EVERY CREVICE OF THIS HOUSE, cursing family members under my breath for taking said hair dryer.)
Email chaos—No matter how hard I try, when I finally sit down to pay the email pied piper, I find important things that should not have been neglected FROM A MONTH AGO.
Refrigerator chaos—I would describe it for you but then you would excommunicate me from the human race.
Workroom chaos—Currently in this room, we are: working on a puzzle, finishing a science fair project, watching as 87 pieces of clothing hang to dry, working on 957 other random projects, doing watercolors, eating lunch, and prepping for a webinar tonight. ALL IN ONE ROOM. That is approximately 12×14. And holds a washer/dryer/2 printers/2 computers/2-4 people/1 million books. #goodtimes
Paperwork chaos—It’s tax gathering time. Which means I now need to collect all the receipts in the free world and take them to my accountant. This activity could put me in the ground.
More chaos which would only bore you and further incriminate me1

I confess all that for a reason. As a funtional first born and an overachiever, I don’t like it when it appears I’m slacking on my job. I like to measure up, to exceed everyone’s expectation of everything. I’m always secretly measuring myself but what I keep forgetting is that all the important things are things that can’t be measured, that no one sees. I try to measure them anyway. Am I becoming a better wife? Am I becoming more spiritual? Am I growing in my faith? Am I growing as a mother? Am I managing my own life well? That’s part of my list and I bet yours looks similar. Today, I didn’t measure up.

I look around and see so many things that are always tending toward disorder. And if I don’t tend to them daily, they feel like the weight of the world. When I got up this morning, I knew it was all waiting for me. I slept in until 5, probably subconsciously to delay the inevitable. The dishes from last night’s Super Bowl food were still in the sink. I missed two deadlines and needed to get those projects sent in first thing. Twenty packages waiting to be mailed.

But I promised myself that February would be about the small things—the daily disciplines that don’t seem like much at the time, but when compounded over a lifetime make a world of difference. So I shut out the voices and sat down with some true nourishment. I read this with my daughter:

We give thanks to you, O God; we give thanks, for your name is near. We recount your wondrous deeds.

We stopped right there. Because I wanted to hear it again, “Your name is near.” That phrase has been like a balm for me today. His name is near. His name is near.

Then I made breakfast and sat down to enjoy it. Then I wrote in my journal. I wrote “His name is NEAR.”

And finally I started in on the chores for the day, but with help. Because His name is near. And I will always have a tendency to let my creative pursuits cause me to neglect all else. Things will always have the tendency toward chaos. I will never be finished with my work. I will never really conquer the laundry pile. But I will always have a comforter because the Name that is above every name is near to me. He put His name on me at my baptism and welcomes me to His table every Sunday. He makes promises to me in his Name that He keeps.

The one thing I did right today had nothing to do with my to-do list. It had nothing to do with productivity or efficiency.

The one thing I did right today was to stop talking and measuring and just listen.

To the One whose name is near, Christ—the living God.

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And speaking of living in your calling in the midst of chaos, I’m doing a series of Lenten devotionals beginning February 18th by email only. You will get near daily emails from me during Lent with a couple of videos. If you’d like to be a part of it, you can join by filling out the form below!

Life Itself Is Grace & Do Overs

January 27, 2015 by Edie Wadsworth 22 Comments

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You may hate me after I say this. You may call me PollyAnna or the craziest lady you’ve ever met. But I love January. It’s in the top three of my favorite months of the year. As a matter of fact, two years ago, I wrote this about January and fresh starts,

I am a complete sucker for a fresh start. The new year is like manna from heaven. I’m overwhelmed with list-making and dream-seeking and soul-searching . Hope swells and washes the memory of past failures clean. I couldn’t care less that I’ve made this list 20 times before and didn’t follow through with it. As a matter of fact, this tendency toward renewal and resolution wasn’t even our idea. We borrowed it from our Father who promised new mercies every morning and fresh starts ‘seventy times seven’ times. I completely believe deep down in my heart that this year will be different. You couldn’t convince me otherwise if your life depended on it.

But this January has been so different for me. I fell into a new passion, which is turning into a crazy wonderful business venture. That led me to teaching 7 classes in January. That led me to starting a new Facebook Group. AND OF COURSE, during all this, I decided to totally revamp my blog and take down more than half the ads. I made plans to revamp the school room and worked on a Lenten study on the prodigal son. Which means that so many January things fell by the wayside, like reading and knitting and writing and reorganizing my closet. I didn’t sit down much in January. It felt like September all over again. It was wonderful but I hope not to repeat it anytime soon.

So, in the interest of do overs and fresh starts and sunny outlooks, I’m falling hard for the new year by remembering that January 1st isn’t the only time to begin. Sometimes January 27th or March 15 makes more sense. I’m starting over (again) February 2nd and I’m telling you in case you want a January do-over. Here are my modest ( and perhaps not so modest) daily goals:

5 day cleanse
daily Ningxia Red (this drink is the reason I don’t buy gallon drums of Motrin)
start everyday with a short devotional from my PrayNow app
write/edit for 2 hours everyday
read for 1 hour everyday
run or cross train 5 days/week
cut my coffee intake in half
daily journaling
one person per day to pray for/contact/send love note to (it is February after all)

Why the daily goals? Because your days become your weeks and your weeks become your years. And I do better when I have a rhythm to my days. January was a month of big things/projects and I want February to be about the dailies.

I even started a new Instagram account for all things wellness & goals so that you can follow along in the crazy and perhaps be inspired to make the most of the days. I’ll be posting there about my rhythms and routines and the tools I’m using to find healing for my body and soul and mind.

To celebrate the newness, I’m giving away the farm! Well, not literally the farm but almost. If you follow my new IG acct called Lifeingrace & Wellness (lifeingraceessentials) and leave a comment on the maiden post (the first and only one so far!) I will pick a winner on January 30th and here’s what said winner will get:

A Young Living premium starter kit, complete with the 11 everyday oils, a diffuser, and some samples of our magic drink, Ningxia Red ($180 value)
$100 Amazon gift card so that you can purchase something special to help you with your dailies
A cute bag to carry your goodies in ($25 value)

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Have you ever started over in February? Or September?

It’s my favorite thing ever!