Go Gently

Go Gently

“Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near.”  Philippians 4:4

Go gently into the world today; gentle with yourself and gentle with others.

Go gently as your day unfolds; watch and see who He places in your path.

Go gently letting Kindness guide you, as He opens doors of opportunity to react with softness and tenderness in a world that is suffering, harsh and rough.

Go gently letting Goodness be your guide, as you bump against those facing pain, loss and trials beyond your understanding.

Go gently letting Peace direct your steps, as you navigate a world full of anger, hurt, and division.

Go gently letting Joy take you on a journey of delightful surprises, unexpected beauty and infectious hope that spills and washes over those you encounter.

Go gently letting Love permeate your words and actions as you interact with another who is greatly and extravagantly loved by the Father.

Go gently letting Patience fill you up as you pray for endurance and perseverance for the one struggling to keep up, fearing they will never be enough.

Go gently letting Self-Control infuse you with strength and discernment as temptations and distractions attempt to pierce and blindside as the enemy slithers and prowls.

Go gently letting Faithfulness and devotion keep you in tune with the heart of the Father as you sit at His feet, quench your thirst with Life giving water and feast at His banqueting table.

Go gently, the Lord is near.

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law.  Galatians 5:22-23 (NIV)

Always

Always

“And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.” Matthew 28:20 (NIV)

Always. Without fail. For eternity. For keeps.

This verse in Matthew is beautiful. It’s full of encouragement and hope. I came across it today and the truth of it jumped out at me like it hasn’t before. I looked up synonyms for the word always and what I found touched my heart. Without exception. Repeatedly. No matter what. Perpetually. Never ending.

Enjoying my morning coffee while watching the critters in my garden, it strikes me in this moment that Jesus is with me; in something as ordinary as an early spring morning with birds feasting and gossiping as the sun peeks over the nearby hills. He’s here with me as I listen to the bird-chatter and the soft breeze tinkling my wind chimes. The melody is gentle and peaceful – full of purpose and routine. The birds and critters go about their tasks filled with trust; instinctually knowing the Father cares for them and provides. I’m not alone, even in the simple, ordinary routine of morning coffee and birdsong. Comforting. Always.

Walking in my neighborhood, favorite park or the duck pond, He’s here with me watching the seasons change, delighting in my awe and joy over the gorgeous colors His creation displays. Beauty. Perpetually.

Going about my day with errands, phone calls, puttering and gardening, He’s here giving encouragement and energy to finish all that goes into taking care of a home, animals, myself and my family. Presence. For keeps.

When fear raises it’s ugly, breath-stealing head, making an appearance in circumstances involving loved ones that I cannot control or predict, Jesus is here. He understands the fear and uncertainty simmering in my heart along with the worst-case scenarios I conjure up and give place to with overthinking and worry. He speaks soothing peace and divine protection over all of it. He is fully aware of every nuance of human emotion and the messy chaos that comes from living on this planet. Yet He never leaves me alone. Safety. For eternity.

In the lonely, hidden places in the recesses of my soul and yours, where bleeding wounds and feeble attempts at self-healing live, we find Jesus fully present. He isn’t looking away, embarrassed, disgusted, or done with us. He is fully invested, present and active. The compassion and mercy flowing from Him into these wounded places, if we’ll let Him in, is sacred. It is holy ground. Miracles happen here. Strongholds are demolished, captives are set free and new life begins. Heavenly battles are waged over us, and He wins. He always wins. Our pain is never too much, never minimized and glossed over with rote Christan-ese or trite, shallow words.  He speaks life, healing, renewal and blessings over these deep places and shouts victory into us and over us. The songs He sings into our hearts begins to soften the hard places as His blood and provision course through us. He never leaves us. He is with us always, for eternity, for keeps, without fail to the very end of the age.

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What if…

We are taught not to dwell on the what-ifs. That thought pattern has a bad rap and each of us has likely allowed it a place in our hearts. We use the what-if mentality to berate ourselves, dredge up old wounds and rehash unhappy parts of our past. Giving place to a negative, what-if mentality allows a foothold for regret and bitterness to wedge their way into our minds. Those stealers of joy linger and wait in the wings to rob and wither our confidence. They sneak and slither in to minimize and dismiss the potential impact and healing of those dreams – for us and for others. But what happens if we turn those what-if statements into positive and encouraging motivators? What might happen if we allow ourselves the chance to step out in faith and be a little risky? Is life truly meant to be lived in a safe and predictable bubble?

We all have dreams that make us smile, bring us joy, excitement and a rush of anticipation. Instead of allowing fear to taint our God-given dreams and purpose and listing all the reasons why we could never do it or someone else could do it better, we change the narrative.

When we remember whose we are and embrace the divine prophecy spoken over us the what-ifs become a beautiful vision of opportunity to live in harmony with His plans. Walking with the Divine trailblazer – living in the moment, singing His songs, resting in His safety…

What if we can do it and are wildly successful? What if we step out in faith, holding tight to His hand and simply try? What if the fulfillment we feel brings healing and joy – what if it heals someone else? The sacred intersections and divine appointments experienced as we bump up against others on our journeys are deliberate and supernatural. All is orchestrated and timed to perfection. His will and our dreams move, breathe and brush up against those who need what He has entrusted to us and vice versa.

What if we look back on our lives and instead of regret that we never tried and lived in fear, we felt covered in peace, freedom and joy? As we walk out the purpose and dreams given to us, ripples of His healing, love and peace will trail behind us bringing joy, blessings, and hope to those in its wake.

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him and he will make your paths straight.”1

  1. Proverbs 3:5-6 NIV

The Invitation

The steam from her Paris Blend morning tea dances in the breeze floating in through the patio door. It is a pretty morning. The air has that perfect blend of crisp coolness with an undercurrent of warmth. It’s going to be another lovely fall day.

Crystal’s gaze falls on the Japanese Maple in the backyard that is just beginning to turn. Her hard work re-doing the garden is paying off with bright bursts of oranges, yellows and reds as the Mums proudly display their colors.

Stepping outside to fill the bird feeders, she whistles and calls to the doves, crows, finches and various sparrows that grace her yard. Crystal loves that they wait for her every morning. They trusting and count on her. Sometimes she feels like the birds, squirrels and neighborhood cats are her only friends; the ones who look forward to seeing her and notice if she’s off schedule or away from the house. They don’t care whether her hair is wild and untamable, or if her sweats have a hole or two. The longing in her heart pops up again for someone to accept her and her quirks, flaws and humor; someone who will like her and enjoy her company without pretense, expectations and judgment. She wants to belong.

Finishing her egg white omelet and toast, Crystal hears something rustling at her front door. Curious, she wonders what her cats, Dixie and Dude, have gotten into this time. Dixie lounges on the back of the recliner watching while Dude investigates a cream-colored envelope that’s been pushed under her front door.  Lifting it up, there is nothing telling on this envelope except for her name, Crystal, in a font that seems familiar, but she can’t quite place.  It is heavy and looks to be of good quality paper. Hmmm… As she holds the envelope a gentle feeling of peace settles over her shoulders and a lovely warmth spreads through her hands, arms, and chest and seems to hover there, right over her heart. The sensation brings tears to her eyes though she isn’t sure why. The anticipation over what this simple envelope holds rises up and up as she carefully lifts the flap. Crystal slides a crisp, iridescent card out of the envelope and sees that it’s a hand-written invitation in that same beautiful script.

“Your presence is requested at my banquet. Come as you are, Crystal. You are enough. Follow the Light, you will know where to go.”

An invitation to a banquet? She’s never been invited to anything like this before. She’s uncertain what to think and do. What will she wear? It said “come as you are…” There isn’t a return address, or a location listed. How will she know what the Light looks like or where to find it? The anxiety trying to push in and distract her slowly ebbs and fades as she gazes at the envelope. There is something about the handwriting that soothes her mind and spirit. The warm feeling of safety and peace is still there, enfolding her heart.  She feels, more than she hears, a faint whisper reminding her that she knows the way.

In faded jeans and her favorite green shirt, Crystal takes a final look in the mirror. Will she fit in? The invitation says she is enough…

Feeling drawn to the nearby lake, the random words to a song she sang in a church she once attended, flit through her mind…”all who are thirsty…”.

 Approaching the lake, Crystal sees the warm autumn sunlight filtering and shimmering through the branches of the willow tree. It’s breathtaking. “Follow the Light…” the invitation said.

Reaching the tree she sits on the familiar bench, the warmth of the afternoon and the peaceful shushing of the lake lulls and quiets her mind. Her breathing slows.

Looking around, she notices a rustic wooden table that hasn’t been there before. Its simplicity is beautiful. The rough-hewn wood appears to be hand-crafted by a Master carpenter. It’s stunning as it glows and beckons her to take a seat. The chairs around this table have cushions of bright purple with gold thread woven throughout. Moving around the table, she sees her name, Crystal, on a lovely blue place card. Her name is hand-written in the same script as the invitation. This is her place, and she sits down.  

There are other place cards around the table. Each one with a name and a unique script. The space to her left is reserved for Jazz and the one to her right is for Juan Carlos. Interestingly enough the table appears small, but it isn’t. There are so many seats and so many names.

The other invitees arrive with the same look on their faces that Crystal imagines is on her own. Awe, uncertainty and hesitation, yet a longing for community and joy all mixed into one. Bill sits down across from her, joined by Wren, Miriam, Yosef, Carmen, Jessica and Braden. A bit further down Damien, Grace and Vincent find their places at the table. She looks in fascination at each person who takes a seat. The mix of humanity at this table is beautiful. Everyone is so unique and different – life experiences that are intentional and diverse yet connected in a deep and perfect way. Belonging.

Bringing her focus back to the table, Crystal sees the delicacies arranged in front of them. It appears random, yet there is perfect order here. Dishes overflow with fruit, earthen-ware jars filled to the top with honey, and baskets of fragrant, warm bread are interspersed all along the table. At each place is a tall, thin glass with mysterious etchings and symbols carved into them, understood only by the Host. These glasses are filled with clear water that sparkles, shimmers and dances in the Light that filters though the willow branches. The water captivates her with its absolute clarity and a unique fragrance that flows, caresses and feels like love. At the same moment, each guest lifts their cup and drinks deeply; it feels like healing…”all who are thirsty…”

Crystal knows that the Host is here. This is Holy ground and He sits among His guests. Supernaturally, each one of them holds His undivided attention. He speaks, heals, reveals and lavishes joy, peace and belonging on all who are at His banquet. They are all enough. There is no one at the head of this table and no one at the foot. Every place is equal, chosen and important. In His mystery and wisdom, He is everywhere at once ministering exactly what is needed. No one is taking over, minimizing, drowning out, or elevated over another. They all belong because they are all His. Agendas, politics, and man-made idols are not found here. They are not welcome and have been denied access to this banquet. Ahhh…the peace, beauty and tranquility of a table set for everyone.

As His gaze penetrates her soul, the pain and despair of feeling like an outsider and the trauma of rejection, fear and loneliness flow out of her heart and into His hands. He speaks and sings over these things in the language of heaven and Crystal’s heart is cleansed. It feels new, tender and ready to receive Him and He is enough. Her lungs fill with His breath. Her blood flows with His healing. She is ok. She is safe. She belongs to Him and that is enough. She belongs to this family seated around His banquet table. There is a place for her.

The whisper of faint singing rouses her from sleep. How long has she been here? She doesn’t remember falling asleep. This is her quiet place where she comes to talk to Him.  A gentle breeze tickles her neck and fluffs her hair. As she wakes and stretches, Crystal notices something sparkling in the reeds along the water’s edge. Curious, she moves in for a closer look. It’s a piece of gold thread. Smiling, she picks it up and wraps it in her hands, as memories fill her mind of a blessing-laden table, acceptance and her name written on a place card at His banquet.  

Shafts of Light

The Gifts wait with anticipation in the incense-filled room. The voices of the beloved rise and fall in a constant blend of timbres and tones, each voice precious, seen and so very loved. The Gifts love to watch the Creator as He gently lifts and listens to each request, praise, cry for help. Sometimes there are no human words, but utterances of the Spirit as deep calls out to deep. These are the voices of His precious ones. Each one cherished. As He lifts each voice and holds it carefully in His hands, He sings and prophesies over it. The Gifts thrum with excitement as they await His command. With a nod of His head, Peace is sent forth. Descending from the heavenlies, Peace makes a way through the swirling turbulence of humanity to the dear one asking her Father to please blanket her in His peace. Gently surrounding, above and below and on all sides, Peace wraps up the precious one and whispers the words to her spirit that it was sent forth to proclaim. She feels the soft warmth begin to soothe and soften her fearful heart.  It is supernatural, this sending forth, as Peace simultaneously, yet personally, ministers to thousands of souls at once – the Father’s voice and love flowing down and through and within each of His children. Mystery.

Next to descend on a golden shaft of light is Joy. With excitement, Joy finds the man who calls out for relief. He is stuck in the never-ending spiral of his daily grind. He wants to feel alive again, so Joy dashes in with bursts of lightness, humor and the beauty of hidden blessings revealed.

At times, the sounds of the rising voices make the Father smile. The Gifts love to see how attentive He is to each and every soul. No one goes unnoticed. No one is lost in the crowd of millions. Each and every voice is completely unique, designed with forethought and purpose; none better than the other, all equal and perfectly loved. There are also times that He weeps with those who mourn. The tears that His beloved cry are never wasted, not one single tear drop. He knows the origin and reason for each one. He meticulously collects them and safely places them in lovely crystal jars that have an eternal purpose and plan. They will not be wasted.  

The next Gifts sent forth are Protection and Healing. These two often travel together. They descend on a powerful beam of light piercing evil and darkness. These Gifts find the ones ensnared and tangled in chains, fear and illness. The Father infuses these gifts with His authority, power and love. Chains break, strongholds crumble, illnesses flee and darkness bows. Gentleness and abounding Mercy follow Protection and Healing, as hearts, souls and bodies are healed, restored and led into His Light.

Discernment and Wisdom respond to His command and travel on gentle shafts of light seeking those who are lost and alone, overwhelmed by choices and clamoring world-voices. These Gifts infuse the overwhelmed soul with calm, direction and clarity straight from the Father’s heart. The webs and twisty-looking paths that shroud the way forward are made clear, as the debris and obstacles of self-reliance are rolled away. Trust accompanies Discernment and Wisdom, as those coming out of the shadows need Trust to clearly hear and follow His voice.

Patiently waiting, Rest is summoned and joyfully descends on a beam of light infused with lovely colors. Rest flows like a sparkling creek and carefully washes away the busyness and exhaustion that covers so many of the beloved. The weariness of fixing, controlling, worrying and rehearsing piles on and sticks to His loved ones like a balm of good works that has gone rancid. In the beginning, the balm feels soothing and necessary, but as rest, peace and joy are sacrificed by the doing and the helping, the balm becomes suffocating and immobilizing. How beautiful it is to see the caked-on debris slough off in the stream of living water that beckons the weary one to rest in green pastures. Victory.

From His omnipresent vantage point, the Creator watches and is pleased as His love-gifts, in radiant light, descend continuously and purposefully to His beloved. He intimately knows where each and every shaft of light is going and declares that these Gifts will not return to Him void but will accomplish all that He desires and declares.

Promises Whispered

Bree’s favorite trail isn’t far from home. She can drive there in about 15 minutes, give or take, if you factor in the morning traffic. The aroma of her medium latte macchiato swirls through the truck as it warms her hands at the stoplight. She notices the way the sunbeams hitting the prism hanging from her rearview mirror shatter and regroup into lovely rainbows and shimmery light. The way the colors land on the dashboard and the sleeves of her hoodie bring a soothing feeling of hope and of promises whispered and kept.

The parking lot of the trailhead is partly full. Maybe she can get the clarity and peace she’s seeking this morning without the distraction of other trail-walkers. Freedom to clearly hear and seek the confirmation she’s looking for is uppermost in her mind. There are too many voices with strong opinions, sage advice and “words from the Lord” coming at her from all sides. Everyone has an opinion of what her next steps should be and how they should be taken. A lot of “shoulds”… The chaos is deafening.

Bree knows this trail with its curves, slight hills and beautiful trees that offer shade and bright patches of warm sunlight. It’s her go-to place when the chaos becomes suffocating, and she needs to re-center and re-focus on Jesus and what she knows in her heart He has spoken and promised. To Bree, nature is the sanctuary where she finds Him. Her church. Her sacred place where the living and breathing God of the universe speaks to her through all of her senses. She feels His breath in the breeze, His words sighing through the wind in treetops, His laughter in birdsong and critter chatter, His love in patches of sunlight that gently brush and warm her skin and his peace, that glorious peace. It enfolds her with scents of pine, warm soil, ancient things and nature. Holy.

Moving further along the trail, Bree hears that lovely silence, the gift of the forest. Her mind begins to slough off the voices and the “shoulds”.  The contrasting coolness of the woodsy air and the warmth of the sun penetrating the open spots of the canopy feels brisk and invigorating. Peeling off the hoodie, Bree picks up her pace and savors the competing chill and warmth of the trail. As she ties the hoodie around her waist, she notices the tattoos on her arms. Be Still and Faith over Fear.  In her busyness, she’s forgotten the deep meaning of these words inked onto her skin.  They are reminders of hard, life-changing circumstances, words that she clearly heard Him speak over her and to her – prophesy and promises. Promises…

As her mind wanders back over all she has weathered in her years, Bree remembers the words spoken to her soul through long walks on the beach, the hope given though the laughing song of a rushing creek, the peace from events and circumstances that at first glance appeared random but were truly divine encounters.

Quieting her mind, Bree finds a spot just off the path and sits. She needs to hear from Him. She has questions and is worried about the next steps. She knows the gift she was given and what He asked her to do with it. She did it to the best of her human ability. She did it with excitement, joy and hope but also with fear and worry that she wouldn’t get it right, that it wouldn’t be enough and that she’d ruin it with her imperfections and humanity.  She tried to be a good steward with what she was given. Was it enough? What else should she be doing?

“Please, she whispers, I need to hear from You.”

As the words leave her lips, a feeling of hope and peace settle over her like a light brush of wings and air, a gentle blanket of fragrance that permeates and soothes. The familiar goosebumps she feels when in His presence prick along the nape of her neck and arms. The supernatural is here, a divine encounter. Be still…be still…

Resting in this peace and breathing in the calm, joy, and hope of Him, Bree envisions herself lifting it up, this gift, and placing it back into strong, capable, divine hands that know exactly what needs to be done and how He will do it. She remembers the verse in Isaiah 55:11 (HCSB) that He showed her when He first gave her the gift – “so My word that comes from My mouth will not return to Me empty, but it will accomplish what I please and will prosper in what I send it to do.”

His hands receive it and the cacophony of voices clamoring for attention, giving advice and opinions are silent now. His will prevails and His voice drowns out all else. This. This is what she’s been seeking. This peace that doesn’t make sense, but still is…this knowing, this discernment that speaks to what is and is to come. She needed to remember all the times and ways He has spoken and that she is capable of hearing, discerning and resting in that knowing.

With her spirit and soul refreshed by her divine appointment in the forest, Bree sits a bit longer soaking in the healing balm of nature. Her heart feels hopeful. She is confident again that she will discern the next step when it is time to take it. She will rest in that hope. She will be still and listen to His promises whispered in the wind and dancing through the trees.  

The Gifts

The Gifts

The day is winding down. Putting on the tea kettle, I stand at the kitchen sink looking over the garden in the slowly dimming light. There are still birds and plump squirrels investigating the bird feeders and taking their evening baths before the sun fully sets.  The frogs in the marshy area of the open space nearby are beginning their evening chorus. Something about their song is soothing and I look forward to this acapella performance as a gift from nature that I get to unwrap.

The shouting kettle calls that it’s teatime, so I pour hot, steamy water into my mug with the word Serenity written in bold, black letters; the aroma of the Portland Blend black tea rising up. My hands are warm from the tea. A sense of calm settles on my shoulders as my mind wanders back over my day, recounting what transpired and all the blessings…

As usual, the dog and cats woke me up early, insistent that the established routine be followed. They don’t forget, so it’s best to get up and start the day – besides, coffee will be waiting! Their dependence on me for all their needs struck me. These beautiful creatures love and need me. It is wonderful to be needed and trusted. The gift of joy and unconditional love they offer in return is invaluable.

After tending to the animals, I spent the morning volunteering with other lovely people who have a heart for those who need extra help feeding their families. I’m tired at the end of the shift, but it’s a good tired. Helping take some of the worry and fear off of the shoulders of a weary mom, a struggling dad, a tired grandma is humbling and it’s a gift.

After lunch, a much-needed chat with some amazing women with the same fears, worries, and unknowns while our sons serve and protect our country is something I will never take for granted. These brave women fully understand it all. The support we give and receive is a beautiful and treasured gift. The heartfelt conversations and prayers of dear friends and fellow military moms and the safety to share those parts of life mean more to me than these precious women realize. They are a gift that I don’t take lightly.

As I ponder the events of my day, I see that there were many small, but not insignificant gifts that God showered on me. Things that might go unnoticed unless I looked for them.  Such as a good parking place, joyful birdsong, the way sunlight filters through clouds, a beautiful rainbow, a compliment from a stranger, and giving and receiving kind and encouraging words.

By intentionally seeking out these gifts places in our lives each day, our perspective can change from one of anxious worry to one of hopeful anticipation of the lovely gifts we will unwrap as our day begins.

There is joy in simply thinking about the intentionality and love our Father has for each of us. It is hard to grasp that I am so loved and cherished that I have the undivided attention of the God of the universe as He crafts and blends up joy, surprise, laughter, peace and intricate detail into every day I am blessed to wake up. He is doing this for you, too.

There will be days that are beyond hard to endure, with unwanted things that blindside, hurt and wound us. That is never to be dismissed or minimized. My limited understanding cannot explain it. But perhaps, in the midst of all the hard and unwanted, the calm and the peaceful, there are deeply personal and breathtaking gifts waiting to be unwrapped. I believe He delights in placing them in the midst of our messy and chaotic humanity – waiting for us to slow, to settle a bit, to look around in expectation of the good and the lovely because He is good, lovely, praiseworthy, and can be trusted. I love what Psalm 37:3 & 4 say, “Trust in the Lord and do good; dwell in the land and enjoy safe pasture. Take delight in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart.” (NIV).

As I settle in for the night under my blankets with softly purring cats I feel a sense of calm settle over me.  Yes, there is still chaos and hard things swirling and poking for a place to seep in and cause worry, but the weight of those things are kept at bay, at least for the moment, as I focus my attention on the gifts I unwrapped today and allow my mind to wander and wonder at what I might find tomorrow… James 1:17 “Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.” (NIV)

Winter Morning

Winter Morning

The sun hasn’t risen up over the foothills yet. My bedroom is dark and in the piles of blankets on my bed I feel cocooned, warm and cozy. There is a cat, possibly two, curled and softly purring at the foot of the bed. I gingerly wiggle and stretch my feet; either cat could wake and attack my moving foot at any time.

Time to get up – there’s lovely hot coffee to make and sip in the quiet, peaceful morning of a silent house. Calm. Soothing.

Coffee in hand, the heat from the mug soaks into my chilly fingers. It feels homey, nostalgic and something else that I can’t quite put my finger on. Anticipation? Expectation?

The lights from the Christmas tree and mantle glow softly and cheerfully in the still-dark living room. The rustic, wooden nativity scene is backlit with a sweet, warm glow from the tiny lights strung along the small side table where it resides. My mind wanders and contemplates all that this sweet and simple scene portray. A Savior born, a young mother’s joy and fear, shepherds’ awe and angel voices. Miracles. Redemption. Love.

A deep fog descended in the early hours of the morning. All is shrouded, misty and ethereal. Sounds are muffled and muted. I still my breathing for just a moment trying to hear the morning bird song and squirrel rustlings through the damp air. All is silent. It’s beautiful, disconcerting and mysterious. I feel all of that in my chest, my mind, and my spirit.

Sipping the warm coffee, I allow my mind to wander, and memories begin to surface. So many memories filter into my mind around the holidays. Ones that are tucked up and away out of sight for most of the year but resurrected as Fall approaches, melds and blends into the frenetic pace and high expectations of Winter holidays. As much as I long for the nostalgia, beauty and excitement of the holidays, there lingers and flits along the periphery those feelings that aren’t so merry and  bright. Ones that call to mind Dr offices, hospitals, blindsiding loss and hurt, dashed expectations and lack luster merriment. There are, of course, the happy, joyful, lovely memories that come out and bring smiles, laughter and warm nostalgic feelings, but they are not alone, and the memories vie for prominence in my mind.

Looking out my back window at the swirly, wisping fog it feels disorienting and unfamiliar, yet beautiful in the covering quietness. I feel safe and wrapped up.

Stepping outside, the brisk chill of the damp air is startling. Breathing deeply, the cold air zings and stings my lungs. Invigorating. Through the mist I see light seeping through as the sun makes its ascent and the rays forge a path in the gloom. It’s calming. It brings a sense of order and relief that not all is murky and diminished; that night and darkness will not last forever – the Light is on its way.  

The Light pierces through the veils of murky shadows and brings hope, joy and comfort. I imagine the awe, fear, anticipation and great hope that the first Light brought to the hills of a sleepy little village so many, many years ago. A Light full of joyful celebration, promises, hope and protection. That Light is still here. It shines, pierces and breaks though fog, darkness and the high, often unattainable expectations we crave during the holiday season.

The Light shows us that hard, sad and lonely memories can co-exist with joy, peace, living in the moment, and merriment. The Light calms the swirling expectations with a peace that passes all understanding. Dark crevices of memory are illuminated with healing and comfort when we give the Light permission to enter into it with us. He was there when the hurts happened. He has never left. He understands where the deep need and high expectations come from, and He delights with us in the silly, happy, fun times that bring joy and a smile to our faces. And He brings hope, so much hope that tells us we are not alone and all will be well. Emmanuel, God with us. The Light in the darkness, Prince of Peace, Mighty Counselor. Always, everywhere and in every season.

Changing Direction

Do you ever experience those days, weeks or months where specific life circumstances seem to have no solid solution? Where there seems to be no way over, around or through a particular issue?

Not long ago, I was feeling this acutely with frustration and weariness settling in for what seemed like a long and exhausting ride. I was tired of myself and my thoughts, mulling things over in exactly the same way and finding no joy, relief or solution.

There is a local park that I love to walk through, especially in the fall. There is something about the way the light slips and shines through the trees. The colors beginning to move through the leaves paints such a hopeful picture. It feels like something is just around the corner out of sight. Anticipation.

Around and around the park I went, following the same path greeting fellow walkers, joggers, and meander-ers. Seeing the joy of dogs chasing balls, sniffing after squirrels and frisking in the cooling fall air felt so calming and happy. Some of the tension in my soul softened and released. I had room to breathe. I noticed some peace and a bit of joy seeping in, crowding out the fret, worry and control that was trying so hard to establish dominance. The autumn sun on my face, the crisp air and the beauty of the park were working their magic.

I distinctly remember rounding a curve in the path. The shade of the huge, old oak tree bathed me in cool, sweet air as I stepped into its shade. As I felt the abrupt change from warmth to the cool refreshment of shade, I felt a Whisper nudge my heart saying, “change directions.” I knew Your voice. This Voice has spoken to me, prophesied and sung over me, healed and restored me so many times, in so many circumstances that to obey it is second nature.

I stopped and stood in the shade for a few minutes and then I changed direction. “What are you saying to me, God?” I whispered. “I’m watching, I’m listening.”

Walking in a different direction along this path, I noticed that things looked quite different than they did while I was going the other way. I could see the other side of the trees and the way the light looked different peeking through branches that I couldn’t see before. I saw a bird’s nest and squirrels nibbling at pinecones which had been obscured from view. There was a group of older men sitting in a circle with their tired dogs lolling and stretching out as they chatted, joked and laughed together. I couldn’t see them when I was walking the other direction because they were hidden from view by a large cluster of trees. Seeing them there enjoying their dogs and long-time friendship made me smile.

As I noticed these hidden gems I missed when walking the way I always go, it struck me that I have been stuck in the way I viewed the things going on around me. I had expectations, stubborn ideas and a one-sided view of how things should be handled. I wasn’t looking for a new way, a different way, a fresh way. I was looking at my way.

Your whispered call to change direction resonated with me. My spirit, eyes and heart needed a new perspective, Yours. In my striving, worrying and need to control the things swirling around me and those I hold dear, I completely missed Your voice.  You are asking me to let go – to remember You are the Author of my life story and the story of those I love. You see from all directions, all at once and always will. You have it all in control, well sorted, and everyone tenderly cared for as Your plans for us play out in the tapestries You never cease weaving and the prophesy You never cease speaking.

I find that now, when I’m walking a path figuratively and literally, I stop and look back, make sure to change direction and listen for Your whisper that You are near, and all is well. It is surprising what one can see from a different direction. You are as close as my next breath, in the breeze, soothing me in the shade of Your presence and restoring me with a different perspective. A change of scenery can make such a difference to a wearied and stubborn soul. I’m learning that down every path He takes us, there is always a place to stop, rest a while and change direction.