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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Thank you for liking me! I like you too! Let’s journey together!
How does God‘s kingdom come to earth? How is the love, joy and peace Jesus exemplified deposited on earth? Our political and religious institutions are broken. We are broken. So how does anything good appear when God only finds our wounded hands to use?
Like a peach tree trying with all its might to find a way to create peaches and push them from the roots up the tree and out its leaves, I tried hard to propel joy and God‘s kingdom through my striving.
It wasn’t working
“How does a peach tree produce peaches?” I began to ponder
Peaches are born the moment the peach tree stretches down its roots and thinks, “I’d like a little more water.”
And then, with the drinking and thirst, the roots grow stronger and thicker. Ironically, the thirst of the little tree only increases the more it drinks. The little roots grow deeper and stockier, twisting around obstacles in their way but still moving down, down toward the Source.
And once that little tree drinks all the water that it is designed to drink, peaches come.
How thirsty are you?
But what happens when we live God’s way? He brings gifts into our lives, much the same way that fruit appears in an orchard—things like . . . exuberance about life . . .
So discouraged. Head in hands. I haven’t seen the sun in weeks. It’s just cloudy skies day after day. I feel stuck inside this small room that confines me.
And a glimmer of sun – Is it? Peeking through the clouds?
I go outside, for the first time in weeks, to look up at the sky and get a closer look. I shield my eyes now, for the sun shines with unstoppable radiance through the clouds. The sun reaches EVEN ME.
And I am pierced to the heart with this light that illuminates my chest and then expands upward and downward as I stand, mesmerized, as the sun peaks more and more of its light through the clouds that reluctantly part.
Is that hope I sense on the horizon, too? My heart stirs a little at the sight of something blurry, something I can’t quite bring into focus past the horizon. (Have you looked yet beyond your horizons?)
In your great love revive me . . . I see the limits to everything human, but the horizons can’t contain your commands
The sun’s rays, which are even brighter now, moments later, seem to warm me from the inside out.
Forget about what’s happened; don’t keep going over old history. Be alert, be present. I’m about to do something brand-new. It’s bursting out! Don’t you see it?
And as I rest outside now, in the sun, my wings warming in the spring air, I feel almost enough hope to flap, flap my wings, as they dry here in the sun and then . . .
Do I have the courage to try them out?
Do you?
But those who wait upon God get fresh strength. They spread their wings and soar
The Bible story pictures often portray Jesus sitting on the grass, Buddha style, with some children frolicking nearby, spewing truths that people fell over trying to catch.
Which would be true.
But Jesus also got angry.
Anger fueled by the love that erupts within our souls like a volcano sometimes contains the seeds that can eventually heal culture.
We were visiting the largest city in our region and decided to stop at the library to borrow some books for our youngest daughter’s summer reading cache. We walked in awe, looking up in wonder at the size of the magnificent building. There are so many books inside!
Restoring Life 