Last Christmas I received a book embosser from two of my nieces and their families. I love it.

I can emboss a gold seal and place it in the book, but I can also emboss a page in the book. I choose to do both.

The gold seal is gorgeous and gives the book a rich feel about it, and while that seal could be peeled off by some nefarious soul, the embossed page cannot. Both tell others that this book belongs to me. One a bright announcement. The other now a part of the fabric of the book.

The Bible talks about God putting his seal on us as well. 

"Now it is God who makes both us and you stand firm in Christ. He anointed us, set his seal of ownership on us, and put his Spirit in our hearts as a deposit, guaranteeing what is to come.” 2 Corinthians 1:21-22

"And you also were included in Christ when you heard the message of truth, the gospel of your salvation. When you believed, you were marked in him with a seal, the promised Holy Spirit, who is a deposit guaranteeing our inheritance until the redemption of those who are God’s possession—to the praise of his glory.” Ephesians 1:13-14

I love my personal library, and I now enjoy putting my personal seal on each book to show that that book is special and belongs to me.

I imagine that is exactly how God feels about each one of us.

Last week was the Solheim Cup, the premier professional ladies golfing competition pitting the best from the United States against the best of Europe. Because it was played in the Netherlands this year, I was unable to watch. Not only because most of the event occurred during the dark hours of the late night/early morning, but also because there wasn’t any TV coverage in the US (at least none that I was willing to pay for).

My only option was to use the live radio feed from the Netherlands’ Solheim Cup website, which—to put it mildly—was less than reliable.

At first it failed to upload. Then there was more than a little confusion. Since these commentators weren’t granted access to inside the ropes (no idea why) they often couldn’t see where the ball landed. Then there would be squeals as one microphone after another started to die. Add to all that their constant talking over each other (since they couldn’t see each other) and it was a pretty hectic experience. But I was willing to put up with it.

Day two, I got up early again to listen again and this time it wouldn’t even upload. I was left with no way to follow the progress but to wait until the scores were updated on the LPGA app. 

And guess what. It as delightful.   

That silence after the previous day's verbal turmoil was welcomed. Peaceful. And it was freeing as well. Since there was absolutely nothing I could do that would affect the outcome, I turned my attention to things I could affect. 

Don’t get me wrong. I love to watch competition and even the tenseness of close matches. But when it is accompanied by pandemonium—no.

Which reminds me of how often we allow ourselves to listen to so many of the voices around us, bemoaning this or condemning that, clamoring for our attention, desiring our approval and consent. Even those wishing to bestow us with helpful information. So many people wanting a piece of our time and our ear.

And yet silence is so peaceful, so powerful, and so Biblical. And while the Bible does encourage us to seek wise counsel, it also warns us of listening to the wrong voices. And more importantly, to begin by seeking God’s counsel. 

Jesus often escaped to places of solitude to meet with God and so should we. 

Isaiah 30:15 provided the answer for Israel when they lost their way. It provides the answer for us as well.

“In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and in trust shall be your strength.”

When life gets overwhelming and overcomplicated, shut out all other voices and return to God and listen to that “gentle whisper.” It's the only one that really matters.

There’s now a crisp nip in the air in the mornings. The first hint of color is beginning to show on the trees. A steady cool breeze rustles the leaves, and sweatshirts and hoodies are beginning to appear.

Fall is just around the corner. 

Seasons.

I am so thankful that I live in an area that has distinct seasons: A colorful fall. A winter marked by rain storms and the occasional snow. A restless but brilliant spring, and a “warm” summer where many of us agree with Shakespeare when he said in Sonnet 18 “Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines.”

But to watch the seasons change reminds me that nothing is permanent. Not the euphoria of a win nor the devastation from a loss. Celebrations will end and sorrow will lift. “Joy comes in the morning.” Psalm 30:5

And we need also remember that God created and oversees all changes--“He changes times and seasons” (Daniel 2:21), and He even ordained it--“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven” (Eccl. 3:1). 

​As we watch the leaves turn and the temperatures drop, let us worship the author of the seasons and everything it reveals about him—in particular his wisdom, faithfulness, mercy, grace, and sovereignty.

I am on week four of my decompression table sessions.

The purpose of the decompression table is, of course, to remedy a compressed nerve, which has been pressed down by its surrounding bones, cartilage, muscles, or tendons and can be caused by a host of issues—from repetitive movements to injury or trauma to body changes.

So how does it work? 

Well, for starters, before you even get on the table, you have to stop doing anything that will continue or exacerbate the compression. Then they strap you in. 

The first five sessions are warm-ups, to gradually get your muscles used to the movement so that they don’t fight it. After that the fun begins. Sort of like a roller coaster, the table begins to stretch you in increments, then release you a bit, then stretch you again. Thirty minutes. (I think I’m taller now.)

The idea is not necessarily to recreate all that space between your vertebrae. Though that would be nice, that won’t happen though you will gain some. The idea is to get the disc, that rubbery cushion pad, to start working again. It is your shock absorber. When the disc is compressed it won’t re-inflate. It stays flat. So now it needs to be taught to compress and then decompress. Back and forth. Back and forth.

We are both physical and spiritual beings and because of God's infinite wisdom, the lessons of the body translate to lessons of the spirit. 

How often do we feel compressed by the worries and demands of this life until the weight or pain of it is difficult to bear and we find ourselves immobilized, unable to move. In this case, our faith has been paralyzed. And just like a compressed nerve, we must take the same action. First, stop what we are doing and rest. Then we begin decompression sessions to rehydrate and reteach our “disc of faith” how to move. And the only way to do that is to get back in touch with God. He tells us as much. 

“Be still and know that I am God.” Psalm 46:10

"Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for Him.” Psalm 37:7 

God was not in the powerful wind, earthquake, or fire, but in a "low whisper.” 1 Kings 19:11-12 

Deuteronomy provides a wonderful verse to help us decompress and revitalize our faith. (emphasis mine)

Know therefore that the Lord your God is God. He is the faithful God, keeping his covenant of love to a thousand generations of those who love him and keep his commandments. (Deuteronomy 7:9)

So if you feel your faith has been compressed. If you are burdened by the weight of the world, then lay on your spiritual decompression table. Breathe in his faithfulness, breath our your love and obedience. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. And your disc of faith will be restored.