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rest
Look to the Clouds
The summer morning is warm with a brilliant, Robin-egg blue sky. The warm dirt under my young back is soft, yet bumpy with divots, small rocks and tamped down grasses. It smells comforting, earthy and old. It feels safe.
The air is warm and a bit close, broken up by the occasional snippet of breeze, that lazily puffs over me in my earthy spot; grasses and wildflowers tossing and bobbing as the breeze slips through them, forcing movement on this indolent summer morning.
I fancy myself a cat; lazy, snooze-y and hidden from view; yet spying and aware of all that is going on around my little nest.
There is a Blue Jay, raucous and naughty, dipping and darting as she looks for her breakfast in the oak trees. She is not afraid of disturbing the more stately Robins and Sparrows that are seeking out their morning meals. The birds do not notice me in my lair and continue about their morning business; or maybe they do…
A variety of ducks and some Canadian geese glide by on the rippled water of the canal just a few feet away from me; blackberry brambles and other sticker bushes guard its banks like stubborn sentries. You can get through to the water, if you dare to pass through them. Brave creatures have carved paths under and through these sentries, to make their way to the water and safety. Their dens are cozy and well protected. Easy access to tiny fish, frogs and maybe crawdads.
Ah! There is the distinctive splash of the muskrat, slipping through the cloudy waters of the canal. His path can be traced by following his bubbles, as he searches below the waters for his breakfast. Routine. Safe. Ordinary.
Looking to the sky from my child-sized hollow in the summer faded grasses, I notice the white, marshmallow-like clouds floating past. They are fascinating! Some are huge and billowy, while others are small, wispy and seem to vanish or meld into bigger clouds nearby; as if swallowed up.
Imagination has free reign while cloud watching. My mind can wander and make up all sorts of fantastical stories. I see one cloud that at first glance, is just big, fluffy and non-descript; but then it emerges; a boat with a crooked, tilted mast and a scraggly, wispy sail. Peeking over the side of the boat, is a horse’s head and strange looking bird. What stories that boat has to tell! Another cloud is almost perfectly round, except for one edge that has a thin, feathery tail wafting off to the right; like a child’s balloon rushing off in the wind on exciting adventures.
Breaking up the daydreams, the sleek, black cat saunters into my grassy hideout, curious and nosey; casually attacking a random leaf, sniffing around my hideaway; demanding pets and chin scratches. Having determined a spot near my head as acceptable, she settles in for a drowsy rest, as the warm morning is becoming a hot, summer afternoon. The shade is moving with the shifting sun, flooding my little earth-nest with a bit too much heat and light. Maybe it’s time to get the sprinklers out, as another dreamy, lazy, hot, Northern California summer day plods along into the next one.
Summer as a child was pleasant and predictable with routine, yet full of adventure by the canal behind my house. Lovely memories of feeding ducks and meeting the new ducklings each summer, picking blackberries and making pies, cobblers and jams, taking long walks along the grassy, wildflower laden paths near the canal bank. It felt joyful, exciting and new; yet familiar and safe in that familiarity. I recapture bits and pieces of those feelings, when as an adult, I revisit the canal and all its creatures, scents and sounds, as I relax and observe from the patio swing or from the lone bench nestled under an old oak, with a blue wind chime tinkling; ducks, geese, river otters and muskrats going about their business. The familiarity soothes and calms. Tilting my head back to feel the sun, I allow the warmth to penetrate and loosen the chilled, hardened, practical places my adult mind has created. Sometimes life forces that on us, just to survive the onslaughts of life. Peering up through the gnarled, old branches of the oak tree, I see clouds. Puffed, billowing, white clouds and I remember my child-self lying in the tall, warm grasses, surrounded by the stout wildflowers and nosey cats. Content and care-free. I remember the day dreams and simple joy of seeing life, nature, and me in the cloud shapes, imagining the Creator with his paintbrush, delighting me with adventures and laughing as each stroke of His brush changed everything. There is peace and contentment for an exhausted, stressed, adult mind, when I simply look to the clouds and allow that child-like joy and imagination to have its way for a bit, and laugh with my Creator as He fills the sky with Himself.
Come Away
I’m up early.
A restless, unsettled day, led to a similar night of sleep.
Rest is elusive, thoughts scattered.
Warm, earthy, steamy coffee warms my hands; my eyes glaze over; mind swirling.
Through the open kitchen window, the morning air carries the faint scent of jasmine and cool earth.
The house is warm, but the fragrant air is inviting and full of promise; electric.
It beckons.
A friendly breeze, a puff of soft air, calls to me from the musical notes of the wind chimes,
“Come out.”
I go out.
My favorite bench is canopied by the looming butterfly bush; it’s purple, fragrant blooms toss and wave; encouraging me to come.
I do.
The cold marble of my bench, as I sit, is in stark contrast to the warmth of my hands around the child-painted coffee cup I carry with me. “I love Mommy” it proudly shouts, from its brightly painted surface. That brings a smile.
Also some tears.
I don’t feel so loveable of late. Irritable. Tired. Frustrated, not loveable. Chaotic, possibly.
Looking at the flowers in the planter tubs next to my bench, I see chaos; at first.
Upon closer inspection, I notice that the random way in which I planted these lovelies, is actually quite beautiful. Patterns emerge amidst the seemingly random design.
There is order here in the planter, despite the chaos and it is so lovely! Yes! Yes, it is.
Do goodness and beauty and happiness have to be meticulously ordered, spaced and arranged to be ok and acceptable? Do I have to understand it?
This revelation makes me smile and breathe deeply. Inhale life.
The rising sun glitters its reflection at me on the feathery water of the stone bird bath. Winking and spunky, I want to laugh with it, at the possibilities of the new day.
I feel my back and shoulders relax; everything isn’t wiry and tense, ready for flight. Calm. Peace. Is that joy?
Again the breeze; it caresses the back of my neck with cool, kind fingers; barely a whisper against my ear.
What was that? I close my eyes, try to still my mind and just be.
I hear it now. You are speaking, but no words are spoken.
The peaceful scent of jasmine and butterfly bush blooms tell me all is well.
The stable, steady, ancient scent of dirt reminds me that new life is all around; rebirth is waiting daily for me to acknowledge it.
The breeze whispers that I’m never alone. You will never leave me. I remember; I know.
I see in the riotous, chaotic colors and placement of the flowers, that You have patterned and woven my life together in a tapestry that may appear to be a random intersection of lines and curves; hills and dales; yet is actually something far more beautiful and ordered and perfected than I can imagine.
You see the entire picture of me and You call it lovely; You call me lovely. I am enough because of You.
You have dried my tears; they are captured in the bottle that holds all of them. In place of frustration, I notice acceptance has taken root. Not a resigned, sighing acceptance, but an acceptance of the unique journey I am on with all of the ups and downs that I know will come.
My place in Your arms as chosen, loved, accepted and redeemed is reconfirmed on my little marble bench. I am enough. I just needed to come away with You for a spell. You remind me I’m Yours and all will be well.
It really is ok to rest…
Mark 6:31 (NIV) Then, because so many people were coming and going that they did not even have a chance to eat, he said to them, “Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest.”
When I read this verse this morning, it jumped off the page and invited a deeper look; more than just a cursory glance. On the surface, it seems like a benign verse; one that can be read at face value and left at that. However, after giving this verse some thought, I beg to differ!
Jesus and the disciples had little, if any leisure time during His time of ministry; teaching and healing the people. The crowds never seemed to let up. People were so anxious to be near Jesus, to listen to His revolutionary teaching that set them free, released them from bondage, fear and legalism. They heard that He had the power to physically and spiritually heal them, so they came in droves with their ill and hurting friends and family, with those suffering from demonic harassment and chains, for a chance to see Him, touch Him, be healed by Him.
Jesus and his disciples rarely had “opportunity for private meditation and prayer, nor of spiritual converse together; nor even so much as to eat a meal’s meat for the refreshment of nature.” (1)
Being fully God and fully man, Jesus knew and felt the physical and mental exhaustion of always being “on” and the deep fatigue of being surrounded by the hurting, needy and lost. He also knew his disciples needed respite from ministering along side Him. So Jesus retired from His work. He was diligent to remove Himself and the disciples for periods of rest, refreshment and spiritual and physical re-filling, so that they could then return encouraged and strengthened for the next task set before them. He gave Himself and the disciples permission to stop and take a breather; to eat, to get themselves away from noise, hurry and the urgency of humanity knocking at the door of their hearts.
As I thought about this verse, I felt Jesus whispering to me and my worn out heart to “come with Him” by myself “to a quiet place and get some rest.” My days may not be filled with healing the sick and enemy-harassed in my world, or with traveling roads that are literally dusty and parch the mouth, or teaching on hillsides in the hot sun, but He knows what my days are filled up with: relationships that are chaotic, full of misunderstandings and unmet expectations; disappointment; dreams long held in my heart, that seem so far from being realized; illnesses and injuries that I cannot control or fix; past regrets that try daily to haunt my peace; friends and family going through heart wrenching trials that physically hurt me as I see the struggle; daily annoyances and offenses that threaten to become bigger than they need to be; and the list goes on. Life on planet Earth and the human condition!
I absolutely love that Jesus gets this! He understands the physical and mental exhaustion of taking care of everyone else around me. The things I take on that are not really mine to take, that I struggle and wrestle with until I have nothing left. He loves me enough to give me permission to get away, rest, get some refreshments for my mind, spirit and body and then, with the full armor of God strapped on me, get back in there and move forward, into all the goodness, abundance, joy and excitement He has planned out; filled up and able to minister to those He places in my path for such a time as this.
Is He calling you to go off with Him for a spell; to rest, refresh and soothe your mind, spirit and body? It really is ok to rest…
(1) John Gill’s Exposition of the Whole Bible
The Ancient Paths
Jeremiah 6:16 (NIV)
“This is what the Lord says: Stand at the crossroads and look; ask for the ancient paths, ask where the good way is, and walk in it, and you will find rest for your souls. But you said, ‘we will not walk in it.’
This passage in Jeremiah is fascinating and really makes me think. I picture in my mind a traveler who sets out alone on a pilgrimage to find “the good way.” Someone who feels restless and dissatisfied, unfulfilled in the world and their place in it; searching for meaning and significance. I imagine this traveler is tired, dusty, thirsty and longing for some place to rest, because the journey has been a long one. A lifetime.
At last, up ahead our traveler spies a crossroads where different paths intersect and head off in completely different directions. I see an oasis at the crossroads; some sheltering trees where our sojourner can stop for a bit and think about which path to take. Where does each one lead? What if our traveler chooses the wrong way? Will the journey just continue on and on and on without leading to what they want most, which is peace, safety and rest for a soul that is banged up, wounded and weary; cautious and longing for healing, simplicity and to just belong?
I can imagine our weary traveler surveying each path, looking at the options and wondering what to do, which way to go. One path looks wider and more comfortable, the other path looks narrower and a little rockier. What to do? Suddenly our traveler notices, hidden in the shadows of a small grove of trees, a man reclining in the cool shade. Feeling relief that there is someone here who may know the answer and can give guidance, the traveler heads over and asks, “where is the good way? Which path do I take?” The man looks at the weary soul in front of him and asks, “what is it that you want? These paths lead in very different directions, my friend, so choose wisely. One, the good way, will lead you on a more narrow path, with areas that are not easy to navigate and that will have obstacles you will have to go around or over or through. There will be mountains and there will be valleys. The going will not always be easy, but the end result will bring you more joy and life than you could imagine.There will be beauty along this path, but pain, too. You will find rest for your weary soul, but you must follow the One who leads you and not stray off on your own. You will be guided every step of the way, but you will not be in control. This path has been followed by many before you, their foot steps can be seen and followed along the way. The traveler likes the idea of beauty and rest, but pain and obstacles, giving up control? “What about the other path?, the weary traveler asks, “Tell me about it.” The man sighs and begins speaking, “the other path, well, it will seem easier, smoother, wider. It will seem to be well traveled and it will allow you to chart the course, go your way. On this path, there are many crossroads you will have to navigate and you will be doing it on your own. You will choose which ways to go and you will reap whatever consequences come of these choices. The footsteps of those who went before you will be smudged, obscure and not easy to see. Those other travelers will not offer you their wisdom; they will concentrating on themselves and making their own way. You must choose your path; the time is now.”
Our traveler has a lot to think about. The thought of having a guide to navigate those rough places and obstacles sounds inviting; to not be alone, but to have Someone there to guide, to lead and who knows the way. Peace and rest are promised at the end of this path and there will be beauty, but also pain. Beauty in the pain? The other path sounds great as well. Easy, smooth, wide. Obstacles yes, but the ability to decide how to navigate them and being able to say at the end of the path, that you arrived because of your own wisdom. But, the man didn’t say that at the end of this path there would be rest and healing. He didn’t say what will be promised at the end.
So what do you choose, fellow traveler? When you come to the crossroads, which path will you choose? The one with the beautiful promise of rest for your weary, searching soul, or is the pull of being in control and having a wider, easier path calling out to you? Will you take the paths that are well worn with the sandals of those men and women who chose Jesus and went before us? The ancient paths with the footprint of the One who already knows your path and exactly how to navigate you along? Or will you see that path laid before you and say, “No, I will not walk in it.”
Faces of Peace
I am on a constant journey to find peace. It is something I crave on a soul deep, inner man deep, level. It is difficult to describe, but it is there and it is insistent. I search for rest, because I am weary. It is not always the feeling of overwhelming exhaustion or the desperation of drowning kind of weariness, but sometimes it is. Life is showing me that peace has many different faces and it invades every situation. It can be quiet and unobserved, waiting to be noticed and when it is noticed, brings surprise and a deep sense of well-being. This happens in the wee hours of the morning, while rocking a tired, cranky baby; back and forth, back and forth, praying for rest and calm until suddenly you feel it – peace. It was there waiting, gently and softly. Rest. Peace. Joy. Love. All is well, you are safe and secure. Sheltered.
Peace is there on an ordinary day, when things are flowing smoothly and life is pleasant and people are kind. Peace was there before the day started off well, before everyone got up and got ready for work and school on time, before lunches were remembered and PE clothes were grabbed on the way out the door, before the house emptied and things were quiet. Peace was already there, waiting and present and real.
Peace is there in the absence of storms, just as real and alive and powerful, as it is in the midst of grueling trials and storms that seem to have no end. Peace is there, strong and powerful and full of compassion, when the Doctor opens the door to your room, takes a deep breath and says, “I’m so sorry. You have breast cancer.” It is there. Peace is what keeps you from losing yourself to terror when desperation blasts in and you feel like you are drowning and have no control. Peace is there in the middle of the fears of the “what-if’s” saying, “Yes! What if you are healed? What if you are well taken care of and deeply loved, what if you are never, ever alone in the midst of this, what if you are held in arms that are bigger than all your fears, what if you have shelter in the midst of all this hurt and chaos? What if? What if…
Peace reminds you that it was there before this storm hit and it will be there forever after. Peace lifts your face and asks you to fasten your gaze steadily into the eyes of Jesus, the Prince of Peace. It is Jesus, peace is Jesus. Such calm, such safety, such lovely rest.
On this journey of mine, I have discovered time and again, that my searching and desire for peace leads directly to Jesus. Every single time. I won’t find it inside myself, in my own strength. That will fall short every time. I know. I have tried over and over to be self-reliant and strong enough. The One who created me, when I was but a thought in His mind, the One who formed every single part of me, all my weaknesses and failings and all my strengths and gifts – He wants me to feel peace, to feel Him working out all things for good, according to that beautiful, unique plan that is my life. Your life. The time He took to carefully place us right where we are, surrounded by the people and circumstances that He brought into being, tells me that He knows what He is doing. He is the Master planner. He knows how it all ends. We win because He is victorious over death and sin. It is good. He’s got me, He’s got you. It is ok to not know what to do, if you know the One who does. It is ok to not have it figured out and planned and plotted. He already did that. It’s done. Can you and I walk this out? The not knowing? We can. We do it every day, don’t we? We wake up and just go. However, the going is so much easier when we understand and truly believe that He has us in His hands and that nothing, nothing at all, comes toward us, His children, that He has not first filtered through hands of love, a mind of infinite wisdom and a heart that loves us so intensely, intimately and fiercely, that He allowed His beloved Son to die for us, to take all this on for us, to forgive us and to become our Peace. This is a wild love. It is not tame and it is not controllable. Yet, in this fierce and protective love, we find the greatest of peace. Jesus.
Melissa Giomi, October 7, 2015
Something to ponder…
Someone needs to hear this tonight or maybe it’s just for me… God loves you. He made you. He knows everything about you and loves all of it. Your weaknesses and struggles are not driving Him away from you. He is there always, as close as your next breath. You are seen and known and have God’s undivided attention. You name is engraved on the palms of His hands. You have tremendous value and purpose. You are here for a reason. God makes no mistakes. You are not a random happening. Those places in your heart that hurt; the place in your soul that has been so wounded has not gone unnoticed by God. He saw, He knows and He grieves. If you give it to Him, He will take it and redeem it; He wants to do this for you. He can restore and transform those places that seem too lost, too broken, and too ugly. The secret hurt isn’t hidden from Him. He is “the God who gives life to the dead and calls things that are not as though they were.”(1) He knows all about the anger, the bitterness and resentments; failures and victories and joyful A-ha moments. He looks on you with eyes of love, compassion, joy and mercy. You are His greatest delight and lovely treasure. You are His child. Your voice is music, love and joy to Him. Talk to Him; He loves to listen. You are covered in grace, redeemed and delivered and so very loved by God. Sit with these thoughts for a bit. Let them permeate and percolate into your mind, spirit and body. Rest in these words and flourish!
“The Lord your God is with you, He is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing.” (2) .
(1) Romans 4:17 b (2) Zephaniah 3:17
Extravagant Hope 