I started a Bible study by Beth Moore called Walking with God. It is so good -eye opening, refreshing, and an invitation to go deeper.
This quote from her study stood out and has been popping up in my mind often.
Curiosity. I love this word. The image I see is like a treasure hunt of seeking, excitement, discovery, wanting real answers, and not being afraid to ask God to reveal hidden things and meanings in scripture that I don’t understand. He isn’t afraid of our questions and uncertainty. I believe He loves to walk with us, speak to us, give us His wisdom, discernment, and plain old joy that lightens our hearts and draws us close to Him. He is love.
What does curiosity look like to you?
The wool threads display the richest colors as they flow across the loom, some vibrant and brilliant, which immediately draw the eye and capture attention, while other shades and hues are subdued, calming, and deep, visible only to those who truly see. The Master Weaver has been at His work forever, and He will not stop until it is completed. His breath creates and calls into existence that which was not into what is. His thoughts and His songs, His glance, and His robes are all part of the Divine dance that weave and blend to make a way where there wasn’t one. Supernatural, unstoppable, beautiful.
We each have a unique tapestry. No tapestry is the same, yet our individual threads intersect, overlap, advance, and retreat as the tapestry is woven, and the Creator’s plans come into being. What He sends forth will not return void. It will accomplish the exact and perfect purpose for which it was sent. Perfection. Mysterious. Holy.
I imagine an open space that is peaceful and joyful, where the Master does His creating. It is a place filled with pure, flowing water, incense, and beauty. It is called Holy Ground. This sacred spot is where the weaving happens. It is precious and well-guarded. There is joy, tender love, hurt, and tears. Laughter and grief intermingle and twine about each other in a dance that is gorgeous, fierce, completely untamed, terrifying, and yet carefully orchestrated. Who can contain and control what Heaven has spoken and breathed into life?
The individual tapestries stand alone, yet they do not. Each one is carefully and precisely ordered to intersect, surprise, and flow into the others. Each tapestry is necessary for the others to come to fruition. Certain tapestries will be woven together for a lifetime, others for a few moments, years, days, or seasons. Some may barely skim the borders of another, yet there is a Divine purpose for the skimming and the overlapping, the touching, and intersecting.
The Creator knows, and that is enough. He sees it for how it is, how it was, and He will see it long after we are called home. Perhaps we will see His master plan with unveiled eyes, once blurred from striving to understand, force, or remove these divine intersections. What is woven together can’t be undone by the tapestry. Struggling is futile and distracts from the beauty unfolding minute by minute in front of us. No, we can’t foresee, tame, and reverse that which was breathed by Holy breath into existence. This is where hope and faith must come into play.
There are lessons that must be learned, hurts healed, and other tapestries that need the colors, hues, and patterns the Weaver chose to color your life tapestry. These will not always blend in perfect harmony. This mixture will, at times, appear chaotic and unsafe, as if they should not have been allowed to brush against each other. The Master Craftsman knows how it all unfolds because He saw it from the beginning. Alpha and Omega.
What appears as chaos, pain, and discord at the moment is part of the dance. He knows the steps because He created them. We can’t pretend to understand the whys and purposes behind His plan, but one day I hope we will. When the final thread in our tapestry is woven, and the Weaver shepherds us into the place called Holy Ground, we will see how it all blends into something lovely, ordered, and precise, and we will stand in awe of it; smiling through tears of understanding as the height, breadth, and depth of His perfect love covers us. We will watch in fascination as the remaining tapestries are sung and danced over, breathed upon, and woven together until He leans back from His loom, declares it is finished, and brings His masterpieces home to be forever displayed in the Most Holy Place, for all of eternity.
“The Sovereign Lord is my strength! He makes me as surefooted as a deer, able to tread upon the heights.”
Habakkuk 3:19 NLT
Have you heard the phrase, “God is always speaking?” Do you believe that?
Since we are all unique, it makes sense we would each hear our Creator’s voice differently. Some have audibly heard the voice of God, an actual voice heard with their physical ears. Others hear Him through specific and detailed dreams and visions. When I was dealing with breast cancer, God gave me detailed and specific dreams about what was coming. He knew I would need this preparation, an advanced warning. It was a blessing knowing He was involved in everything He allowed to touch my life. He knew cancer was going to be part of my story. He gave me advance notice because He knows how I operate. This is love.
I feel most alive and in touch with God when I am in nature. My senses come alive with the sounds, scents, and sensations. I have had my deepest times of communion in nature, whether in the forest, on a trail I’m hiking, sitting on the beach, or puttering in my backyard garden. It isn’t an audible voice I hear, but it’s what I sense. The brush of a playful breeze that cools my neck and ruffles my hair tells me that He cares and is present.
He speaks in the pounding surf and lapping waves, fear and wounding drawn out and away in the swell of the waves as I pour out my heart. Peace and awe fall over me amid the Redwoods; that glorious scent of pine, ancient growth, and strength remind me of His power and creativity. He has everything planned. It isn’t safe and predictable, but it is good. Sitting under the stars and moon, I feel His majesty and Lordship cover me like protective wings. This feels safe; I am protected and fiercely guarded. My Father’s eye is never off me. His eye is never off you.
Maybe you don’t believe you have heard Him, but I believe you have. Keep an open heart and open ears. Ask Him how He wants to speak to you. I promise you He does. But He is a gentleman. He waits to be invited. Will you let Him in?
He is Speaking, Divine Encounters…
Sometimes we forget that God WANTS to bless us, heal us, bring us joy, and see our delight in the beauty He weaves around us each day. He loves us. He’s a good Father. He wants good for us.
In all of our mad striving and straining to be good enough, work hard enough, and do enough we can easily miss the blessings and beauty surrounding us. Of course there will be hard things, blindsiding things, and difficult things, but I have often found that in the midst of a very hard day that joy, miracles, and little, hidden delights are there, too. Jesus wants us to keep our eyes on Him in trust, our spirits open and seeking all that He is doing for us, in us, and through us as we make our way through the gift of another day.
Life is a gift, another day is a miracle. I will be another year older tomorrow and I truly want to rejoice and be glad in every day that He gives me to seek Him, find Him, and discover the miracles that He weaves into each day that He gives me. I don’t have to earn blessings and favor. Neither do you.
What an awesome God He is. You are loved. Peace be with you.
Psalm 118:24 NLT “This is the day the Lord has made. We will rejoice and be glad in it.”
“Do not be afraid or discouraged, for the Lord will personally go ahead of you. He will be with you; he will neither fail you nor abandon you.”
I took this photo several years ago while hiking near the ocean. The worn steps, the wild green grasses and yellow flowers, and the upward curve at the top spoke to me, compelling me to keep going up, up, up.
I wasn’t exactly sure what I’d find at the top or how much further I’d be walking to get there. But…something beckoned and I chose to keep climbing to see the view when I got to the top. It didn’t disappoint!
The wild, fierce, untamed, raw beauty of the North coast was breathtaking. The wind whipped and tugged, the air scented with life and all things ocean! The perspective from that height, the beauty, and power were a little overwhelming, but in a good way. Jesus and I had some good convos up there and when it was time to walk back down, I felt lighter, cleaner, refreshed.
It’s like our life journey. Some parts are smooth, easy terrain, and others…not so much. But He personally goes before us. He never leaves us when what’s up ahead looks daunting, exhausting, or too much. We are never abandoned, discarded, or left behind.
I love this photo because I picture Jesus going ahead of me, preparing the way, moving obstacles I will never see, and shouting/whispering/singing encouragement over me when I’m tired, world-weary, and not sure I can keep going.
He knows what is at the top of your hard, rocky, uncertain path, and He’s not leaving you to manage it. He knows the delight, beauty, joy, and restoration waiting for you at the top because He placed it there for just a time as this.
He’s got you. He’s with you. You are seen and so deeply loved. You are enough.
Now get out there and enjoy that journey! Who knows what delights, answers, and new perspectives are waiting for you to come up over the top of that trail that’s before you and gasp in awe at the incredible beauty.
Isn’t it wonderful that God knows us so well, loves us so deeply, and covers us so completely with His grace and mercy? He knows what it’s like to be human – perfectly imperfect, but so loved!
“…- an escape from the mundane of my day and a glimpse into heaven. Every page had me nodding my head; identifying with what the author penned while simultaneously being both challenged and inspired. Truly, a divine encounter!”
The early morning sun offers the promise of warmth and expectation.
An indolent day at the beach is exactly what is needed!
Arms laden with a beach bag full of vittles, sunscreen, and a towel, I discover the perfect spot to settle in for the day.
Cliffs behind me, ocean before me, sun above me, sand below.
Perfection. Shelter. Peace.
My little space is set up; all is in order and ready for me to be one with the breeze and old-Earth smell of brine and life and decay.
Shoes off, sunscreen on, now to the water.
Contradictions.
That is what I see in the ocean, yet also safety, born out of the ancient rhythms of the Earth—forever marching on, steady and unyielding.
The tide’s constancy is relentless, untamable, fierce; all without apology, the ocean does what it is meant to do.
The water laps and rushes and chases my feet, startling and elemental in its coldness. Invigorating and inspiring.
The birds, crabs, and tiny sea creatures count on the unchanging ways of the ocean because it is life to them. The ocean gives, and these creatures take.
But I think the ocean is also a taker. It takes the worries, stress, fears, and uncertainties in life; it takes words spoken and wept and screamed by those who walk the beach looking for answers, solace, and peace. We push those things out of our hearts, and the ocean pulls them into itself.
A lovely dance.
Perhaps this is what God does for us. He takes all the fear, rage, worry, and tears that we spew out into Himself and pulls them away from us as we release it all to Him. He is fierce, constant, untamable, mysterious, and present. He gives life; He is love; we rely on Him.
Back at my sanctuary, the sand under my legs and back is so warm, relaxing, and inviting. It is solid and permanent; warmth leeches into my chilled bones, lulled to a drowsy peacefulness.
With closed eyes and warm sun baking down in pleasant coziness, I notice my other senses stirred; susurrating waves whisper and breathe, birds call overhead; somewhere, a dog is barking.
That scent of salt floats on the ever-present breeze along with notes of a barbecue and the cloying scent of flowers.
Drowsy and dreamy, my mind wanders in that half-dreaming state of blissful rest.
The sun has shifted in the sky, and there is a slight chill in the air. How long have I been lying here?
Hunger gnaws, so here come the snacks.
Seagulls make an appearance and scold and demand that I share, watching closely every move I make. I share.
Before packing up, it’s time for a walk.
There are footprints going before me in the sea-soaked sand, and I wonder whose they are and what secrets they’ve spoken to the sea today.
Interesting how before long, all traces of my footprints will be washed away, as if I had never walked here; as if the past is washed away and cleaned up and brand-new sand is offered up for a new direction, new footprints, new promises.
Jesus cleans up our lives like this; the old washed away, the new offered up; clean, lovely, and ready for a new journey. Sun dipping down, air quite cool, water coming higher; my signal to call it a day.
Heading to the car, I feel rested, new, and cleansed, a little wild and wooly from the rawness of the ocean and its wild and chaotic yet perfectly ordered dance.
Extravagant Hope 