At one end of the loveseat where I currently plop this body for writing – because my desk chairs tend to get uncomfortable after a while – books and steno pads, and my fleeting thoughts captured in hurried notes on scrap papers pile beside me. Waiting to be sorted through, my words in pencil or ink eventually transfer themselves from white sheets with scribbles into neat lines of text on the computer screen.
Pages of computer doc’s contain a jumble of ideas, devotional thoughts and bits of news, still unpolished, not quite ready to be shared, awaiting their debut.
At home and away, musings swirl in constant motion as I move from one task to another, from one conversation to the next.
While driving, jogging or folding laundry—even listening sitting in church—my mind refuses to stay quiet. If I’m not designing or questioning or speculating, I am praying.
For people mostly. And situations requiring more than human ability or resources.
As life around me moves at a quicker pace than one or two decades ago, I get caught in the rush at times, too often against my will and against my better judgment.
Be still, and know that I am God. I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth. – Psalm 46:10
This continual tension between polar opposites: being still and working hard (busy serving family, others)… knowing when to spend alone time, to be revived by the One who made me, and saved me, yet at the same time being responsible and meeting obligations and filling needs.
Scanning the crowd from the choir area on the platform, I notice who is there and who is not, and make mental notes.
Call or message or send a card to (fill in the blank).
By the time I walk from one side of the auditorium to the other, my friend is out the door. Another friend follows me to ask a question, before I too head for the parking lot.
Send FB message or text to ask her (about the next activity or a recent prayer request or… (fill in the blank).
I can sit in a far corner of my house, refusing to acknowledge the movement of the local population, to remain disengaged from my own generation, culture, neighbors, relatives, friends…
Or I can slip into the flow of humanity, moving forward to wherever God leads, taking slivers of opportunity to point them to their Creator and Savior, and to their final destination.
Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven. – Matthew 5:16
Eyes tell the truth, belying the cheerful greeting. And I notice. My arms reach to embrace, and by the response I gather sensory textures of inner struggle. Discouragement. Frustration. Weariness.
Though busy, I pick up on the undercurrents. At times I encourage. Other times I am the one encouraged.
Within this community of believers who meet weekly at least, and sometimes more. to share our burdens, concerns, heartaches, rejoicings, victories, continued strivings to conquer the flesh and avoid defeat, to not give up, or give in, to reach the finish line and receive the prize – His pleasure in our faithful perseverance.
To him who overcomes I will grant to sit with Me on My throne, as I also overcame and sat down with My Father on His throne. – Revelation 3:21
I was made to need time and space for regrouping. But with maturity comes knowledge, and the process doesn’t take as long.
But still, there are times when I purposely pull from the rush to kneel at His feet. To bask in the luxury of time away from the temporal. Never regretting moments spent investing in my inner self.
Intentionally carving out a section of my day to gaze on His face, I pour out my praise and plead helpless. I read His words to me, soak up His promises, His reassurances, filling empty longings and questionings with His presence, immersing myself in His peace.
O Lord, You are the portion of my inheritance and my cup; You maintain my lot. The lines have fallen to me in pleasant places; yes, I have a good inheritance. – Psalm 16:5-6
And I am refreshed. Ready to serve again.