He looked at me intently, his eyebrows furrowed.
“Do you think I am going to hell?” His question was honest, open, curious. The question wasn’t loaded, as if he had a pile of ready-made snowballs next to him, ready to fire, whatever the response.
He just wanted to know what I thought.
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Who isn’t excited to open a present?
Even for the most hardened of hearts, a brush with hope in an unopened present makes the soil of our hearts ready for the seed.
And what happens when we open the box and find nothing inside? We turn it over and examine it from another angle. Did we miss something? We take the box apart before finally setting it aside.
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I was spinning in circles, putting up a decoration on the tree with one revolution, beating back my dog in the daily effort of chaos management, who was sneaking licks of the Christmas pudding, again, trying to find my worst, ugliest Christmas sweater in time for the curling party, while still spinning the plates that keep our lives circling round and round – food prep, clean up, laundry, and then the alarm rang in the early hours of the winter dark to do it all again.
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I held my head in my hands, the non-physical pain consuming me, twisting my body to reflect my inner state. The mother placed the baby in my arms and spoke of WHEN I would take her home and envelop her in our family. This baby was the gift that came no less miraculously than a child that emerges, astonishingly, from one’s own womb.
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She was running, wiping her brow, sweat dripping as she ran.
(I didn’t say life was always pretty.)
She grabbed another drink of water from the paper cup held out to her and dropped half of it on her shirt as she gulped the rest, crumpling and then tossing the paper cup.
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“They’ll have to clean that up later,” she thought.
She could see another racer just ahead of her, and if she could ONLY go a little faster. She wondered if the other racer might sprain an ankle or fall, or . . . “Then I would be in luck!” she thought.
Wait. Whaat?
She stopped mid-stride to examine her thoughts.
A crowd of racers surged past her in a blur, the rhythmic pounding of their shoes on the pavement the background noise to her thoughts.
When the crowd had passed, she stooped to pick up one of the paper cups, two. When had she become too busy to help clean up the mess she had trampled and even contributed to? Where was this race taking her?
Can’t you be satisfied to drink from the clear stream without muddying the water with your feet? Why do the rest of my sheep have to make do with grass that’s trampled down and water that’s been muddied?
She put her arm around the volunteer who had come to help those racers in need, the one who had noticed that she needed a more extended rest. She limped, her arm draped over the volunteer’s shoulders, to the aid station. They poked her with monitors and gave her a blanket to warm her and then left her alone.
She was fine. She only needed to rest.
And that’s how I woke up this morning.
How about you?
Ever wake up and remember that you forgot to rest, that you don’t know where your race is taking you, that no matter how hard you try, you can’t quite seem to keep up with your inner coach – you – shouting directions – “Turn left! Turn right! No! Go straight!” – in a way that bypasses the control center, the thoughts and dreams that lay dormant in your head?
It was time for me to rest, but how could I do that?
I needed to exit the race for a bit, to limp to the side and to check out my map. Just because everyone else was running in this direction, did that mean that I should too? What was the map of my heart saying?
I’ll give you the best of care
if you’ll only get to know and trust me . . .
I’ll . . . give you a long drink . . .
And then she sat.
And then she drank and drank and drank. And roots grew from her feet, deep, deep roots so that she could take a drink more often as she ran the race of life. Water was always at her feet, if only she could remember to drink.
How about you?
And so, what can we do to endure life’s race and not only survive but thrive?
In the middle of your tasks you can comfort yourself with Love as often as you can
Brother Lawrence in The Practice Of The Prescence Of God
Got time to put aside the race and the running and the keeping up and discover what your heart may be whispering?
As the song below sings, “there is a peace to settle your soul.” Consider asking Jesus which path to follow to take one step toward this peace. What hint do you sense in your soul? God, help us to hear your call (that our emotions sometimes chime) to stop, to reassess, and to drink, we pray.
Photo Credit – “Caution Runners!” As You Run The Race Of Life! by Nik on Unsplash, Messy Race (And Life) by Richard Scordato on Unsplash
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Sometimes the bad things that happen to us (1) have a more straightforward solution than we realize, or (2) there is a silver lining of hope surprisingly close.
For example, that time I came back after three months in India and Nepal, my FRONT (!) teeth had a growing blackness to them. “Oh my goodness,” I thought. “I am rotting from the inside out!”
“Tea stains,” said the dentist.
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I did have a profound appreciation for Chai tea.
And so sometimes things aren’t as bad as we think.
Another time, I suddenly developed tooth sensitivity. My dentist had been warning me, asking me, “Do you feel sensitive yet in that particular area?” He told me I had root recession and that I would start feeling sensitive soon.
“There it is,” I thought that day. I didn’t bother going to the dentist because I knew this was coming. I thought, “Well, I guess I’ll have to suffer with this until I die!” I drank hot and cold drinks, and then most foods on one side of my mouth. When I finally went to the dentist months later, he said, “Oh wow, your filling fell out!”
He even repaired it for free because, I guess, it shouldn’t usually happen.
This filling was the best gift I ever got. A free filling! Well, the free filling wasn’t the gift.
The gift was a new lease on life.
I didn’t have to suffer for the rest of my life just because I was suffering a little now.
Older age wasn’t necessarily a slow march through increasing pain and suffering until we fall off the cliff.
We may need a new filling! Or we need the tea stains cleaned off our teeth! How can I not assume that my body is running towards hell and taking me with it as I get older?
What new aches and pains must be accepted, and which ones must be fought (or repaired or cleaned?)1
We may need to get our teeth cleaned or have a new filling placed. Or perhaps God will reach out his hand to heal, as many thousands have attested. But if the pain must be accepted, there’s always a hidden redemption in the pain if we know where to look.
That’s why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good.
The Message
As the song below sings “This is the refreshing”, consider asking God, Where have I allowed despair to cloud my judgment? Do I need to get my teeth cleaned, or find an alternative solution to this seemingly oversized or insoluble problem? How do You see this challenge that I am facing from Your heavenly perspective?
Will you give me the strength to weather the storm, Jesus?
(His answer is always yes.)
No test or temptation that comes your way is beyond the course of what others have had to face. All you need to remember is that God will never let you down; he’ll never let you be pushed past your limit; he’ll always be there to help you come through it.
The Message
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Photo Credit – Guy Choosing Easier Way Out Of His Problems by National Cancer Institute on Unsplash
1 As a not-unrelated aside, Canada has got it wrong with its steep descent into killing each other as the new, favorite way out of the pain.
The first week on bed rest1 wasn’t too bad.
I was initially hopeful that my body would figure itself out, my back would crack in the right direction, and I would be up and running in no time. I opened an office on my bed, barking orders at my homeschooled kid, and attending meetings online. I forgot to tell one male teacher why I was in bed during the online homeschooling call, which was embarrassing in retrospect.
But I’ve done more embarrassing things2 in good health.
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Ah!!!
All of it – yuck! It clings to me, like a slime mold, slowly advancing. It climbs up my feet and legs, though I protest, holding my arms high in an effort to keep it away. I try to push it back, frantically, but it advances. The yellow goo, unfeeling, is slowly encapsulating me.
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She sat crouched over, holding both hands to her head to stop the rhythmic, pulsating pain.
The aching pains felt in her limbs merely reflected the pain emanating from her heart, reaching to the outermost parts of her being.
She looked up momentarily to see the busy people brushing past her in their hurry to do important things.
She couldn’t throw herself back into the ongoing traffic of busy people going places and getting things done.
Not today.
But what should she do with this pain?
The pain sat like a lead weight on her stomach, pinning her to the ground.
Could anyone help lift the weight off her?
She contemplated opening her mouth to ask someone to please help her lift the load.
Share each other’s burdens, and . . . Pay careful attention to your own work, for then you will get the satisfaction of a job well done . . .
They couldn’t hear her. They couldn’t see her burden. She felt invisible.
What now?
And then hope descended in the form of a feather. Was it a clue? The feather slowly floated from above and landed beside her. She examined it quizzically, then looked up to try to locate the source of this object.
She held it in her hands, the soft white of the feather brightening her otherwise grey surroundings, the dull grey she felt inside and saw everywhere she looked within her and around her.
She set the heavy weight on her stomach aside; it moved easily now, and she sat a bit longer examining this feather. It symbolized hope to her. “If another could fly, why couldn’t she?” she wondered, looking longingly upward into the sun, clouds, and blue sky that parted the grey sky as she watched.
She stood up now and wondered, “How does one fly?”
She turned around once, twice, spinning her arms with the feather outstretched in her right hand. She felt the joy soaking into her skin with the sunlight. Maybe she didn’t HAVE to stay pinned to the ground, rooted in pain to this one spot, she mused.
And then she saw it, a flicker at first. “Was that a dove circling above?” she wondered. She stopped spinning and stared, her eyes straining into the sun. Yes! There! It was fuzzy again. WAS it a dove, or…?
She doubted herself and her vision and her hope. “Who was she to think that…?” She found herself slouching against the wall again, slowly sinking back into that familiar curved position, ready to hold her head in her hands in that overly familiar position again to help the pulsating pain, which she felt beginning again.
“What do you choose?” he asked her. Jesus was now standing before her and holding out his outstretched hand. She blinked as she looked into the sunlight and saw only the shadowed outline of this person. Was it a person standing in front of her?
What was He saying? Her hearing was suddenly fuzzy, garbled, and his voice was only just clear.
“What was that?” she asked, finding one of her ears on the floor and trying to attach it. It fell off again. And he was gone, leaving only the feather.
Was it real?
“What do you choose?” he had asked her.
Hope or despair?
What WOULD she choose?
What do you choose?
(Do you choose to be awakened to hope?)
Photo Credits – Here’s A Gift by tommao wang on Unsplash, Busy Traffic by Iqro Rinaldi on Unsplash, White Feather by Nayem Islam on Unsplash, Hand Outstretched by Billy Pasco on Unsplash
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I suddenly realized I was not Little Red Riding Hood or whoever that hooded girl who carries her lunch to grandma is, stopping to smell flowers.
I’m the wolf.
I sometimes wear a Little Red Riding Hood cape because I want to go about my life, enjoy my kids, and laugh while we enjoy a day beside the lake. But more and more often now, I feel constrained like old caterpillar skin that needs to be shed. And I’m afraid of what may come out of me. It seems I am a caterpillar about to transition into a fire-breathing dragon.
And I don’t know what to do or where to put the fear and anger that has been stirring quietly under the surface for so many years that sooner or later, it’s bound to come out as an explosion.
I would sort of rather not do that.
I would rather be a butterfly fluttering about and minding my own business.
“I wish it need not have happened in my time,” said Frodo. “So do I,” said Gandalf, “and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”
And is there hope for these situations in the news and our lives that threaten to overwhelm us with darkness?
This is God’s Word on the subject: . . . I’ll show up and take care of you as I promised and bring you back home. I know what I’m doing. I have it all planned out—plans to take care of you, not abandon you, plans to give you the future you hope for.
Yep.
I was so startled by a surprising story of hope at a prayer group meeting that I burst into tears unexpectedly.
There, we learned the remarkable true story of a group of people praying together over issues today that bothered them. One person recounted that in that prayer group, he felt God giving him an idea of how to help clean up plastic from the ocean. I know this way to get new ideas sounds far-fetched, but stay with me1 before you snap your laptop closed.
And then this guy from the prayer meeting went out with his company and built the thing that is another piece in the puzzle of our astonishing plastics problem.
And therein (listening to God and responding ) is our hope.
What global or personal problem threatens to suffocate you, friend?
For me, lately, it’s climate change. But the good news is that God holds a part of the solution for every difficulty we face. He offers different jewels, different parts of the solution to different ones who listen to him and obey his promptings.
Will we humble ourselves and ask him to help us clean up this mess we’re leaving on Earth?
If . . . my people, my God-defined people, respond by humbling themselves, praying, seeking my presence, and turning their backs on their wicked lives, I’ll be there ready for you . . . I’ll restore their land to health.
As the song below plays, can we sing together that we, too, together are “aching for the yield for you to harvest from this hurt?”
Photo Credit: Land Needing Restoration by Md. Hasanuzzaman Himel on Unsplash
Footnotes:
1 Chemist August Kekulé and Physicist Albert Einstein discovered the shape of the benzene ring, and theory of relativity, respectively, after insights gleaned from their dreams at night and many similar examples abound.
In a dream, for instance, a vision at night, when men and women are deep in sleep, fast asleep in their beds—God opens their ears
And to mess with your mind a bit more, the entire scientific process is only possible with a Christian understanding of the world that God values and is the TRUTH. Think about it. If EVOLUTION were to underlie the scientific process, TRUTH wouldn’t matter and couldn’t be trusted – Only things that helped propagate your genes could be relied upon accurately, not TRUTH. More on this another time.
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Restoring Life 