Hey there,
September has always felt a little bit like a threshold to me.
The air begins to change. The light gets softer.
Summer slowly loosens its grip, and we begin to notice the edges of a new season.
There is something about this time of year that makes me want to pause before rushing into whatever comes next.
So that's exactly what we're going to do this month.
We're going to slow down and listen as we focus on our September daily email theme:
Holy Invitations
I've been thinking a lot lately about the way God leads us.
We often talk about our calling as though it is one enormous thing we're supposed to figure out.
What am I called to do?
What is God's plan for my life?
What's the next big thing?
And those are beautiful questions, but I'm beginning to wonder if sometimes we're making it harder than it needs to be.
What if God's invitations are much more ordinary?
What if He is constantly inviting us into the next faithful thing?
To begin.
To rest.
To create.
To forgive.
To speak.
To listen.
To let go.
To try again.
To pay attention.
To love someone well.
To step through a door.
Or sometimes... to simply come closer.
I don't think every invitation from God arrives with certainty attached to it.
Sometimes it feels like a quiet nudge.
A recurring thought.
A desire we can't quite shake.
A conversation that stays with us.
A door that opens or closes unexpectedly.
A restlessness we don't understand.
A Scripture that suddenly feels like it was written specifically for today.
Sometimes the invitations we receive are clear and we shout "YES!"
Sometimes we have to sit with it for awhile.
And sometimes the most faithful thing we can say is not yet.
Or no, this isn't for me.
Because discernment is part of faithfulness, too.
This month, we're going to explore all of that together.
We'll talk about learning to notice God's invitations.
Learning to discern which ones are actually ours to carry.
Finding the courage to respond when the invitation requires something from us.
And finally, learning to release the outcome once we've said yes.
Because perhaps faithfulness isn't about knowing exactly where every yes will lead. Maybe its simply about trusting the path God is laying in front of us.
A question for September
As you move through this month, I want to give you one question to carry with you:
What is God inviting me into?
Not What should I be doing?
Not What is everyone else doing?
Not What would make me more successful?
Simply, what is God inviting me into?
And then, when you begin to sense an answer, ask:
What would it look like to faithfully respond?
You don't have to answer these questions all at once.
In fact, I hope you don't.
Let them sit with you.
Let them follow you into your morning coffee and your evening walks.
Let them interrupt you in the middle of an ordinary Tuesday.
Let them become the kind of questions that make you a little more awake to your own life.
Because I have a feeling there are holy invitations all around us.
We just have to learn how to listen for them.
And speaking of invitations...
There is another one waiting for us this month.
Gritty Faith: Foundations is beginning to take shape.
After everything we've explored together this year, I am especially excited about where this next edition is leading us.
Gritty Faith: Wild asked us to explore the untamed places where God meets us.
Now Gritty Faith: Foundations will turn our attention toward what we are building our lives upon.
What holds us?
What shapes us?
What have we built our faith, our creativity, our relationships, and our lives upon?
Those are questions we'll be sitting with.
And perhaps that's another holy invitation: to stop long enough to ask what is underneath everything we're building.
More on that soon.
For now, though...
Come sit with me awhile.
Let's pay attention.
Let's listen.
Let's be curious about the little nudges we might normally hurry past.
Let's have the courage to follow where God leads.
And let's trust Him enough to release whatever happens after we say yes.
I don't know what invitations September will hold for you, but I hope by the end of the month, you'll be a little more practiced at recognizing them.
With gratitude,
A Prayer for Holy Invitations
Father,
Here I am.
Before I ask You for anything,
before I try to figure out what comes next,
before I make another plan or make another list,
I simply want to be still enough to notice that You are already here.
You have been here all along.
In the ordinary mornings.
In the unanswered questions.
In the doors that opened.
In the doors that closed.
In the things that didn't make sense.
In the dreams that wouldn't leave me alone.
In the quiet moments when something deep inside me whispered,
Pay attention.
Forgive me for how often I have hurried past You.
Forgive me for assuming that Your voice must always be loud to be important.
Forgive me for looking for grand assignments when You were simply inviting me to take the next faithful step.
Teach me to notice.
Give me eyes that are awake to Your presence.
Give me ears that are willing to listen.
Give me a heart that is soft enough to be moved and discerning enough not to be led by every voice that calls my name.
I don't want to spend my life chasing every opportunity simply because it is good.
I don't want to confuse busyness with obedience.
I don't want to say yes because I'm afraid of disappointing someone.
I don't want to build a life out of other people's expectations and then call it Your calling.
Teach me the difference between an opportunity and an invitation.
Between pressure and peace.
Between ambition and obedience.
Between what I can do and what You are actually asking me to do.
Give me the courage to say yes when You invite me forward.
Give me the courage to say no when You ask me to remain.
Give me the patience to say not yet when the timing isn't right.
And give me the humility to change direction when You gently show me that I have been walking the wrong way.
Father, I want to become a person who is attentive to You.
Not obsessed with finding the perfect plan.
Not constantly searching for the next big thing.
Just attentive.
Present.
Available.
Willing.
Teach me to recognize the holy invitations hidden inside ordinary days.
The invitation to call someone who needs encouragement.
The invitation to sit quietly with You.
The invitation to make something beautiful.
The invitation to tell the truth.
The invitation to forgive.
The invitation to begin again.
The invitation to rest.
The invitation to use the gifts You've given me.
The invitation to stop using the gifts You never asked me to carry.
The invitation to step through a door that scares me.
The invitation to walk away from one that no longer belongs to me.
The invitation to trust You with a dream I have been afraid to name.
The invitation to release a dream I have been afraid to lose.
And perhaps, sometimes, the invitation is simply: come closer.
Lord, help me recognize that one most of all.
Because underneath every other invitation is an invitation into deeper relationship with You.
You are not simply interested in what I can accomplish for You.
You are interested in me.
You want my heart.
My attention.
My trust.
My whole life.
And I know that sometimes the work You are doing in me will feel much slower than the work I want to do through me.
Help me remember that this does not mean I am behind.
The work You are doing in me is every bit as important as the work You are doing through me.
When You ask me to wait, let waiting become holy.
When You ask me to rest, let rest become holy.
When You ask me to create, let creating become holy.
When You ask me to speak, let my words become holy.
When You ask me to be silent, let silence become holy.
When You ask me to begin something small, keep me from despising small beginnings.
When You ask me to do something that feels far too big for me, remind me that I was never meant to do it without You.
And when I finally say yes... help me release the outcome.
This may be the hardest part.
I can follow.
I can work.
I can create.
I can give.
I can show up.
But I cannot control what happens next.
So teach me the holy practice of open-handed obedience.
Let me offer You my yes without attaching conditions to it.
Let me trust You when the answer looks different than I imagined.
Let me trust You when the work is harder than I expected.
Let me trust You when nobody notices.
Let me trust You when the thing I thought would bloom doesn't.
Let me trust You when something entirely unexpected begins growing instead.
I don't want to spend my life trying to force Your invitations into the shape of my expectations.
I want to follow You.
Even when the path bends.
Even when the map disappears.
Even when I cannot see more than the next step.
Give me enough light for today.
Enough grace for today.
Enough courage for today.
And when tomorrow comes, give me what I need then.
Father, make me attentive to the holy moments that are already surrounding me.
Let me notice the conversation that matters.
The person who needs love.
The idea that keeps returning.
The longing that You may be awakening.
The boundary You may be asking me to establish.
The burden You may be asking me to put down.
The work You are asking me to begin.
The work You are asking me to finish.
The work You are asking me to leave unfinished for now.
Help me stop believing that every season has to produce something visible.
Some seasons are for listening.
Some are for learning.
Some are for healing.
Some are for creating.
Some are for beginning.
Some are for letting go.
And some are simply for walking beside You.
I trust You with all of them.
As this new month begins, I place my plans before You.
My hopes.
My questions.
My unfinished work.
My ideas.
My fears.
My dreams.
My disappointments.
My capacity.
My limitations.
My yes.
My no.
My not yet.
Everything.
Take what is Yours.
Show me what is mine to tend.
And give me the wisdom to know the difference.
May I become the kind of person who doesn't need to know the entire story before faithfully living today's chapter.
May I become brave enough to follow.
Gentle enough to listen.
Wise enough to discern.
Faithful enough to respond.
And free enough to surrender the outcome.
Because I am beginning to understand that a life of faith may not be about discovering one enormous calling and accomplishing it perfectly.
Perhaps it is about saying yes to You again and again.
In small things.
In ordinary things.
In difficult things.
In beautiful things.
Until, looking back, we realize that all of those little yeses became a life.
So here I am, Lord.
The door is open.
My hands are open.
My heart is open.
What are You inviting me into?
Help me notice.
Help me listen.
Help me trust.
And when I hear You say, Come this way...
Give me the courage to follow.
Amen.
P.S. If you've been considering sharing your work in Gritty Faith: Foundations, a gentle reminder that the submission deadline is this coming Monday, September 7.
Thank you for being here.
