Pale skin absorbs warm sunbeams smattering the surface with pigment. I hear His voice in the distance calling out His heart cry, “my beloved!” The scent of lavender wafts from fields pregnant with harvest. He sits with me. I shelter in the shadow of His wings.
I sit amidst the gloaming. The skyline looks like a field of crocuses in amber light. The nail-scared hands that bind my wounds are tender, calloused, and comforting. The cool breeze dances over limbs and curls as we sit upon the shoreline. The little boat is moored but sturdy. She is keening a haunting melody, craving deep resonant adventure. In search of signs and wonders, the confluence of faith tested is found in evidence seen. My being no longer fathoms happenstance. I believe in mystery, wonder, and grace. It is a thickset eiderdown blanket.
The rigid perimeter of pain can bring the heart to heel. My heart flaps its wings against solid bars of brass. The unrestrained narrow way is calling to me. I have behaved like a petulant child seeking my desire at the drugstore named Jesus. Whether sorrow and suffering are my guides or joy and gladness, I will rejoice (repurpose joy to others & relish in its warm glow). Jesus isn’t an idea to me. He is a person. Relationship is His heartbeat. I want Him to scorch His brand on my soul.
“Our Father who art in Heaven, hallowed….” We consecrate your holiness through revering your name. I sat with a sermon by Dr. Timothy Keller on prayer. God asked me to stop peddling my wares at the thrift store of quickly answered prayers. I was pleading for fixes and answers. He asked if I would praise. Turn my convoluted spasmodic mind to Him. My sister had sent me Bethany Bernard’s latest album. It was a testament of Jesus during the loss of her Father. This was not an easy album. It is the hard crux of faith. Following Jesus doesn’t fix problems or make life easier. It can even compound them. In my surrender of praise, I found Jesus again. I hadn’t lost Him. I’d lost myself.
This past year has been deconstructing in every aspect of my life. I’ve hurt and been hurt. I’m a fragile, strong woman. The sheer strength of a woman is breathtaking. It provides a sacristy. The character of God’s love and sacrifice is manifest in a woman’s heart. As I have begun to pull the duct tape off the crumpled cardboard box I’ve placed God in (He could have loosed these bounds without effort, but He is a gentleman), I’ve learned to see the complexity and mystery of who He is. He is closer than a brother. He shelters me. He is ever mindful of my distress. He keeps whispering, “further up and further in.”
There is so much that makes me heartsick for this world. I don’t understand bigotry, misogyny, hero-worship, using words to cut, unkind people, narrow-mindedness, hate disguised as love. I want to be with Sam and Frodo as they cast the ring into Mordor. I want Aslan to walk out of the mist in my climb up the mountain. I want the Good Shepard to replace my heart of stone with a heart of flesh.
The semantics of religion pales in comparison to the relationship with Jesus. In the dense landscape of our rocky and intensely forested lives, we can lose our way. I am of a mind that all the wonderous stories we have ever been told, the ancient folklore that permeates our consciousness and makes our soul blaze, is the resonance of the life the Ancient of Days wishes for us. I cannot contain this fire shut up in my bones. I don’t believe in coincidence but providence. Yes, we can make our own choices. An unseen grand puppeteer doesn’t control us. We have free will. The free will to discover and find that in our searching and seeking, we will find that which we come from is greater than ourselves.
The wonders I’ve found these last few weeks are indescribable: birdsong ushering in a new day (these beautiful beings sing the sun to shine), an answered prayer before the evidence (and the evidence revealed a few days after), encouraging words spoken directly to my heart from my partner concerning work, a gentle word, the first crisp feeling of Fall, the air I breathe, the gentle smile of my neighbor, the text from a friend who spoke into my heart without knowing the circumstance.
Some may think me nescient. The eternal isn’t found in these things. These are just occurrences in everyday life. I think it is all perception. I can choose to dismiss these signs and wonders or embrace them. The more I embrace them, the veil shifts from my eyes. I will never fully understand the ways of God. I’ll never fully understand what a mortal life encapsulates. Yet, I don’t believe our brief time here is unintentional. My faith compels me to believe in the deep resonance of something more profound and lasting. I believe in so much more.
I’m on the floodplain where unyielding and valuable life is breathing. Inhale. Rest. Nothing in this world can satisfy. Dry bones dance. Here. This moment is what matters.
If I say, “I will not remember Him or speak His name anymore,” Then my heart becomes a burning fire shut up in my bones. And I am weary of enduring and holding it in; I cannot endure it [nor contain it any longer]. – Jeremiah 20:9 AMP
Reflection of Providence 