grace

Blanket of Hope

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Romans 8:26 NLT

“And the Holy Spirit helps us in our weakness. For example, we don’t know what God wants us to pray for. But the Holy Spirit prays for us with groanings that cannot be expressed in words.”

Have you ever felt so bone-deep tired from circumstances and hard life seasons that the thought of putting together coherent thoughts, words, and ideas is just too much? I have, several times, and it’s not a pleasant place to be.

This verse brings me a lot of encouragement. When I do not know what or how to pray anymore over a certain situation and simply do not have the energy, the Holy Spirit knows. He knows. When human words cannot express the longing, the need, the fear, the hope, the Holy Spirit speaks in heavenly languages straight into the Throne room, interceding on our behalf. That is beautiful. That is love. That is power and compassion that swirls in mystery and bathes us in the supernatural.

If you are in this season now and simply can’t find the words to pray, be encouraged that He hears you, He knows, and He is acting. Let the sweet blanket of hope and mercy fall on you, cover you in the language of heaven, and rest, my friend, just rest. He’s got this. All is well. You are so loved. Peace be with you.

Maple Leaf’s Journey

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The autumn wind breezes through the park singing and snickering as it tosses and turns upon itself. So fickle and capricious! It’s going to be a blustery day. The Maple leaf waits in anticipation as the merry wind threads through her tree branches dashing her to and fro. Lovely chaos.

All summer she’s watched from her shaded bower as blankets were spread under her tree and picnickers relaxed and napped in the warm afternoons. In the early mornings, squirrels and a variety of birds hopped and scurried through her tree branches, busy with their task of finding breakfast.

The Maple leaf has looked forward to the coming autumn with such excitement! As she grew and filled out in the early spring, she listened to tales from the park trees of the wild adventures that await her once the cooling winds of autumn arrive.

She knows the Creator has a plan for her journey on the autumn wind. She hears Him pass by in the cool of the evenings, His breath in the flowers, His laughter dancing with the spritely breeze that is ever with Him. His presence creates ripples of joy and love that He sends forth to do His bidding. Tonight, the Maple leaf watches Him in fascination as He stops and speaks in heavenly languages over a weathered picnic table under the old pine at the edge of the park. She often sees lone walkers stop and sit at this shaded table – sometimes serene and relaxed, other times crying out pain and worry with or without words. Miracles happen here… Holy ground in a city park.

The day of her long-anticipated journey arrives with full force! As the wild autumn wind blows and gusts through the tree branches, the Maple leaf feels her hold on her tree loosen and release her. She’s off!

The whims of the wind, precisely orchestrated by the Creator toss and carry her up and down, all around the park. Exhilarating! She soars higher and higher, swirling with other leaves caught up in the gusts and plunges down quickly to brush over benches and playground equipment where she lands near the swings. Busy children run and shriek with joy as they climb, slide, and soar on the swings. Their laughter is full of carefree happiness and boundless energy. Their smiling caregivers enjoy a warm spot in the sun as they sip their coffee, chat and monitor the goings-on.

Suddenly, in a burst of wind, she is thrown up and away on another gust twirling over the park, swooping and soaring, joining some spent flower blossoms on a ride of their own.

From her vantage point, the Maple leaf notices a middle-aged woman walking slowly, but with purpose along the gravely path surrounding the park. The woman is making her way to the picnic table under the old Pine, the very table The Creator spoke over last night. The Maple leaf senses the wind slowing and gentling as she descends down, down, floating toward the picnic table alighting on the edge. There is a snap and vibrancy to the air around this table. The supernatural is afoot and it’s palpable. The woman sits and sighs deeply. Her eyes are weary. Her trembling shoulders look as if they are carrying a burden that is too heavy to bear. Tears slip down her cheeks as she pours out her sadness, and the deep fear that needles and pricks at her constantly. She is so tired – tired of carrying a burden that was never hers to carry, tired of expending energy on someone who wounds her heart again and again. She’s tired and afraid of the future. The Maple leaf listens to her heart-cry. The Creator knew she would find rest here when He spoke healing, love, and release over it; speaking and prophesying in the language of heaven exactly what her spirit needed. This divine exchange between the hurt and the Healer is the most beautiful, sacred thing the Maple leaf has ever witnessed. A life healed and restored here under the old pine as His whispers floated on the autumn breeze, His love surrounded her and the Divine mystery of Him healed her aching heart.

Rising from the picnic table with renewed hope and His peace on her shoulders, the beloved woman finishes her walk in the park with a lighter step. The Maple leaf is full of awe and wonder at all she witnessed. Beautiful. Intentional. Holy Ground.

Understanding that her adventure on the wind is coming to an end, the Maple leaf senses Him calling and singing to her, as He buoys her up, higher and higher into His glorious presence where angels and heavenly beings dwell.

Always

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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.

FREE EBOOK/KINDLE PROMO

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Hey eBook/Kindle readers!

Divine Appointments…is FREE today (2/29) and tomorrow (3/1), so head to Amazon at the link included in this post and grab your free copy 🙂 Might as well check out Divine Encounters…as well, if you haven’t already. Thanks to all of you supporting me and other indie, self-published authors. It’s hard work and your support is so appreciated! PLEASE SHARE

The Invitation

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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

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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.

Storms

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Storms

Looking out my front windows to the north I see a storm brewing. Clouds in various shapes and sizes in varying degrees of grey, black and white are simmering and building. They appear to be motionless, but they’re not. The wind is picking up. The wind chimes on the patio are strumming and singing, growing more insistent as the wind announces the approaching storm. Rain and wind are coming. Will there be thunder and lightning? I notice the absence of bird song and chatter. My bare-bones apple tree branches are filled with little birds watching and waiting. Nature knows…

Friends and family in various parts of the country are experiencing storms in varying degrees of severity. Some have below-freezing temperatures that turn deadly, some are being devastated by tornadoes and blizzards, while others are facing floods and record rainfall. Other parts of the country have milder temperatures and the fear of drought looms from the lack of water.

When the weather forecasters display their satellite generated models of atmospheric pressure, wind, moisture and all the variables that make up a storm it can bring a sense of security in knowing what’s coming, how to plan, protect and predict. Sometimes these predictions are spot on and other times not.

Watching and waiting for this storm to make its entrance reminds me of life. There are times when all the little hairs on the back of the neck and arms stand on end and our discernment and awareness are heightened. We feel a storm approaching. We become alert and aware of every changing nuance in our atmosphere. We watch body language and what is and isn’t said; we are hyper-aware that something is off-kilter and become quiet as we observe our surroundings. The unsettled feeling of knowing something is coming but not knowing how to plan, predict and prepare stirs feelings of chaos, fear and urgency into a thick brew of panicked helplessness.

Other times because of circumstances, conversations, or a diagnosis we know what is coming and because of that we attempt to predict, sometimes with fairly good accuracy and sometimes not, what the outcome might be. Having that knowledge simmering and stewing in our minds is a terrible and exhausting feeling, as we rehearse, play out and attempt to control what’s coming. But we really can’t, can we?

Our limited humanity is an an exhausting, frightening, chaotic thing, isn’t it? We so desperately want to control and order our lives. We want peace and happiness and attempt to forge for ourselves a chaos-free zone that bubbles, protects and shuts out all things hurtful, harmful and terrible. We might succeed for a bit in keeping at bay all that howls and thrashes outside, but there are cracks – flaws in our construction and the storm knows the way inside. Sometimes it will patiently wait, prodding and poking the infrastructure, testing and observing where the design flaws are hiding. Little by little it oozes in causing small bits of erosion and damage that we don’t notice immediately until chunks of our carefully constructed barriers begin crumbling and falling.

Other times it strikes so violently, fast and hard that our safe bubble pops with terrifying suddenness and we are left in a ruin of rubble and disaster and have no idea how to rebuild. Blindsided.

In the midst of all this ruin is Hope. Jesus.

He’s the Master Designer, Creator, Lover. He is the Light that breaks through all darkness and commands it to flee. He’s done it before, is doing it and will do it again. Why He permits the storms and darkness to enter our bubbles, I don’t know.  Believe me when I say I have asked Him, cried, raged, screamed and demanded answers from Him for the bubble breaking storms I have endured. I do  know that He wants to take the hurt, rage, fury, and heartbreak from us because He is the only one who can take the wounded devastation and rebuild the ruins and horror into something breathtaking, holy, and beautiful. It becomes sacred ground. What He rebuilds is strong, graceful, thankful and hopeful. He positions us to be light to another who finds themselves in the midst of a storm. He takes ashes and gives beauty, He takes mourning and gives joy, He takes heaviness and despair and gives a spirit of praise and peace as is said in Isaiah 61:3 “To all who mourn in Israel he will give: beauty for ashes; joy instead of mourning; praise instead of heaviness. For God has planted them like strong and graceful oaks for his own glory.”

Sometimes what we’ve built has to be torn down in order for us to experience what is waiting for us on the other side of the storm. Way maker, miracle worker, promise keeper, light in the darkness. That is Jesus and He is our hope – our true anchor in the storm.

Raw

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Raw

The morning view from my kitchen window is filled with shafts of pink and pale orange that stripe the sunrise sky and mix with the slate grey of the cloud cover. It’s so quiet and still. The neighbor’s fig and plum trees have lost all their leaves. The branches look stark and raw stripped of their leaf cover. Raw…

I’m the first one up except for the dog and cats. The house is chilly as the heater begins its task of warming things up. I love the feeling of my warm coffee mug bringing warmth to my chilled hands. It’s comforting. It’s soothing. It’s routine and I look forward to it every day.

Standing at my kitchen window watching the Creator begin painting the sky with even brighter hues and bursts of brilliance that word, raw, simmers in my brain. I feel raw this morning. It can be defined as in its natural state; not yet processed or purified; not analyzed, evaluated, or processed for use.

The Christmas season is over and the new year looms ahead. I always feel off-kilter and unsettled this time of year. The build up and anticipation, the plans and decorations, the bright glitter and shine, the special food and the hope of seeing loved ones has worn off and dulled. Putting it all away for next year, the clearing up and cleaning out, the good-byes and see ya laters await and it all just feels raw and painful. So much can happen in a year, a month, a minute and I am not a fan of uncertainty. I try to live in the moment and let go of worry, fear, lack of control and lean into the new, the blessings and adventures that will come.  But it’s still hard. My emotions are raw and chaotic. They need a resting place. Help, Jesus…

As I watch the morning unfold on my patio trying to sort my thoughts, a feeling of safety and tucking-in surrounds me. It’s beautiful and startling. I know it’s You. The comforting words of Psalm 139: 1-2 open up in my mind, “O Lord, you have searched me and known me! You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from afar.” As Your words soak in, the pent-up emotions and chaos tumble forth. You understand the raw, the chaos, and the frantic unsettled feelings that don’t have a place to land. You are the landing place and the wide-open hands. You are the Alpha and Omega, the One who can sort, sift and make any sense of the jumbled thoughts and rawness. You are the One who calms and smooths out the unanalyzed, the not yet processed, natural state of the human heart and You purify it. It feels freeing, safe, and cleansing giving it to You in its raw, clouded and mixed-up state.

With You, I don’t have to tone it down, gauge the emotional capacity of the one I’m sharing with, dismiss and diminish myself and the rawness of my emotions in order to protect someone else, or use copious amounts of humor to tame it and make it palatable to another. With You, I am just me – all the raw feelings, the laughter and tears, the rumblings, the nonsense, the hope, and the fluttering anticipation that watches and waits to see what blessings You will pour out this year.

We all need a safe, protected place to just be with Someone who knows every single thought, emotion and the reasons behind each of them.  It is a beautiful, holy and sacred thing to be raw. No holding back – no lengthy explanations and justifications. The whole of our humanity in the presence of the One who created every nuance.  I never fully realized how freeing and breathtakingly intimate it is to be raw in the presence of God. It is sacred ground.

Helpers

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Helpers

I happened upon a devotion this morning that caused to me stop and think. I am a helper. I want to help, fix and make other people and their lives okay. I take on and carry things with me that are not mine to carry or hold. As an empath, I deeply feel others’ joy, pain, sadness and all the in-between and that’s a good thing, right?

Perhaps, but it also gets very, very heavy. It can choke out my own joy, gladness and peace and that is a dangerous thing. The burdens of the world are impossible for me to shoulder and quickly take my focus off of being grateful, thankful and content. I miss good and happy things as well as blessings happening in my own life, because I feel such a need to help and be there for others. I am not equipped to walk another person’s path, just as they are not equipped to walk mine.  

Matthew 28:18 says, “Then Jesus came to them and said, ‘All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.”

All authority. All of it. He has the power to rescue, heal, save, change the trajectory of a situation, be miraculous or help someone navigate the rocky, unsteady, difficult road that is ahead of them, filled with important lessons and truths that they alone must walk through and learn. He has that authority. Not me. He alone knows what is needed all the time and in all ways. He is the one weaving our life tapestries and He knows.

In 1 Thessalonians 5:17, the apostle Paul exhorts us to “pray without ceasing.” How much better would it be for me to use my time and energy in being a good listener, having compassion and praying, yet leaving the burden and outcome in His omnipotent hands? By praying for someone and asking God to speak to and love them through us, do we not become a channel of His peace, comfort and love?

I don’t know about you, but this speaks volumes to the helper in me. I can feel a literal shift in my soul and much-needed peace and joy descend. I feel His gentle breath soothe my heart – “let them go, child. Lay their burdens down. It is not yours to carry. I’ve got them, they are safe with Me.”

“Those who live in the shelter of the Most High will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty. This I declare about the Lord: He alone is my refuge, my place of safety; for he is my God, and I trust him.” Psalm 91:1-2

Changing Direction

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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.