I’ve been spending more time alone recently, thanks to night shift and grown up obligations like…work.
The struggle, after months of bedtime company, is quite real. I’ve reverted to the wolf-dreaming child who lay awake with nervous cramps – fearing, dreading, imagining the worse.
I haven’t been this way for years, but in His goodness, the Lord has brought sunset as a way to teach faith. To teach that reason is not always the antidote to fear.
My cynical mind can’t be convinced of innocence anymore and as result, I find worry can’t be swept into the back of my mind. The unknowns put on convincing masks that no strategy of mine can untie.
So when night comes, my wisest course, the strongest choice; is to challenge them into the open and introduce a Protector like no other. The one who knows the End, the Truth, the Reason.
To admit fear out loud and give it up, is the only way to grow an inch. The only way to step outside and breath the dark in deeply. The only way to close your eyes.
So goodnight – I’m taking the gifts of busy hands and brave heart – and just hunkering down in the wings of Providence.
When your feelings are hurt, who hears about it first?
What about when you spill the water, break the computer, grouch, grumble, kick the door?
And if the CD in your mind plays the blame over and over, then where is the eject button, a new refrain, the alternate melody of your heart?
These days I’m paying attention to what is written in my mind and particularly, what songs speak to me. To fill my mind with True things, so they’re the first on my tongue.
There is something to be said for the overflow of a heart, well fed.
To be a first responder of wisdom. And the simple prayer when days take a turn is: Lord, grow praise in my heart, so on the front lines of circumstances awry, I will glorify You.
He knows where we are. He knows who sins against us, and who we sin toward.
He knows our thoughts and failings and the very things that keep us awake at night.
And there is nothing that can shock or shake Him from relentless, sovereign mercy.
Our sins are many. Our hearts break.
And new every morn, His mercy is more. A shelter to the brokenhearted.
His Mercy is More.
Not to fuel defiance. No get out of good behaviour free card. And certainly not an immunity to the consequences of rebellion.
But what these words whisper, is to remind us that what Jesus did, we can not undo.
What He purposed for His children is our new hearts and redeemed souls.
And He got what He came for.
So let’s not mince words in shades of gray or excuse ourselves politely as an exception to the rule.
The story goes…New Hearts get busy with God’s work.
And no yoke, obedience becomes instead, the most joyful expression of a brighter sky.
I’m an emotional chameleon. Give me a sad story and I will twist myself into knots to avoid the sadness of it, shade myself to some less mindful clime.
Too often, I don’t stay to fight, the flight instinct is strong and carries me through nodding, smiling and beating a quick retreat to denial.
Friends are not made with denial however. And we don’t take breaths because of a God who winks at our tears.
Instead of flinching, we are told to lean into the mess. Just a little longer. Just a little dearer.
I’ve been thinking a lot about it these weeks, and realizing that if I weep for the world or someone else’s hard news – these aren’t tears falling out of line with Scripture.
Instead, we are agreeing with God’s design for burden bearing, not the fixing, fussing or fleeing that I love so much.
So I’ll seek out the sad and stay awhile. Put up a tent and boil some tea.
Keep them close. And tell them the truth.
Do we leave room in our lives to love each other extravagantly?
Do we have space to give above and beyond?
Do we believe that Jesus is enough and that we are free to utterly enjoy Him?
Do we reflect the generous nature of Grace in our lives…
…and in the Tuesdays and Wednesdays and Saturday evenings,
thankfully, paint the world a bit brighter with His wonder?
Brin’s favourite thing is to do her copy work sitting in my lap, while I read from my phone with one hand, and scratch her back with the other. If I stop at one chapter she urges me to another.And the other day, in the middle of that famous winter-time story I read this,
“and on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased!”
This is not the traditional Christmas reading of peace on earth. This is special. An intent of peace-making that declares Jesus the king of it.
And the next day I read another verse, a song of heavenly hosts to come,
“He brought me out into a broad place;
He rescued me, because he delighted in me.”
And in the amen those words pleased and delighted nearly scandalized me. Because I understand the fall, justice and at least the idea of substitution. I can wrap my mind around a crisp, legal agreement where we are at least happy to scrape through and stand in the back row of Heaven.
This delight is something new all together, though. God’s pleased face as He restores peace to the chaos is an idea that seems too good to be true. And His care because He not only sees me as righteous, but also as delightful, is so deeply humbling, gratitude for grace bubbles up again.
If we set our faces to this world as those assured of God’s delight in us and His mission to bring beauty out of the ashes, we might walk the hum-drum differently. Praise God for the joy to be more than conquerors this day, and tomorrow.