Enough

In this season of life, sleep is not always a given.  There are many mornings when I feel heavy and exhausted after the restless or sleepless night.  It had become a daily habit of mine to tell the family at the breakfast table how much sleep I had gotten...  "I only got 3 hours of sleep last night" ...longing for those around me to take part, sympathize, and understand.

It was only a few weeks ago that I had the thought... why am I keeping track?  What is the point?  Is it helping me in any way to know?

Brene Brown in her fabulous books often talks about a 'mentality of scarcity'.  We walk around struggling with the "not enough" feeling all day long.  Scarcity.  I am not enough... or I don't have enough.  Not thin enough.  Not smart enough.  Not tall enough.  Not funny enough.  Not enough time.  Not enough sleep.  Not enough energy.  Not enough fun.  Not enough money.

This 'not enough' mentality--- scarcity--- haunts us and follows us around throughout our days. But, it's a lie.  This way of thinking is absolutely false.

In contrast, we are told that we have "all we need for life and godliness"...  (2 Peter 1:3).  Scripture tells us that God gives us all we need...

It is false to say I don't have enough for life.  No!  In Christ, I truly have all I need!

"The way to slowly die is to believe you live in scarcity---not abundance" ~Ann Voskamp

According to Scripture, when we live in Christ, we live in abundance.  Abundance of grace. Abundance of strength.  Abundance of peace.  Abundance of life and light and truth...

So, I have decided to stop keeping track.

An older friend here told me she read an article that said it is helpful to not look at the clock when you wake up in the middle of the night.  The news article stated that it helps you fall asleep quicker if you don't know... or don't look.  I started there one night.  (and this was quite a discipline)

Now when I am tossing and turning... or wide awake... I just don't look.  I cover my clock with a book!  Why do I need to know?  It only brings trouble to my mind, it never helps.

I just stopped keeping track entirely.  I don't count.  I don't keep track and I don't tell my family how much sleep I got, or didn't get.  I actually don't know!

My goal in the morning, instead, is to swing my feet around, plant them firm on the ground and stand on the truth that I have enough.  For today.  For life and godliness, today, I have all I need.   In this, I can be very thankful for any and all sleep.  Slowly, I am trusting I got exactly what I need.  Jesus is my enough.  He has given me all I need today for life and for godliness...

Today, I had just enough sleep.  If, in fact, I didn't get much; then, He will give me enough energy for what He is calling me to today.  In Him, I have enough.

I speak to my soul...  Trust the Lord, Stephanie.  Trust that He is Your enough.  Trust that in Him you have abundance.  He has given you what you need.  And, indeed, He will give you what you need for today.  


------- This will be the last post for a few weeks, as I will be on the road.  

Unedited and re-posted from February 2017

Stop the Madness

I can get pretty locked up in my head.  My thoughts can be so busy, random, critical, and full-on.  Through the years, I have become more and more aware of this buzzing reality that can be my brain...  awareness has been key to freedom from it, for sure.

But, even attentiveness and practicing God's Presence, doesn't always stop the madness.  I can go from peaceful knowledge of God's now Presence and, in the blink of an eye, I find myself lost again in the fast paced brain buzzing.  Before I know it, I am locked in a cycle of hurried thinking--- way too much thinking and very unproductively.

I find that there are different ways or kinds of thought.  This cycle of buzzing is not helpful, it is harmful thought.  These busy, burdened and even berating thoughts are unproductive thinking.  They feel more like chaos than order.  They are filled with lies and falsehood instead of truth.  And, often they cause anxiety, as opposed to peace.  The enemies of my soul play a huge part in this battle---  the adversary and my flesh--- fighting against the love, joy, peace and patience of the Spirit.

I found myself in this very cycle this week.  It doesn't really matter the topic or topics of thought--- it is just that my mind is bursting with unproductive and busy thoughts.  Like Martha of old, I am "worried about a great many things". 

Psalm 84 caught my attention on Wednesday...  the whole of the Psalm.  But, also one particular phrase jumped at me with clarity.  "whose hearts are set on a pilgrimage...they go from strength to strength" (Psalm 84:5-7).  The Psalmists are talking about the Presence of God.  They are rejoicing in their experience of dwelling with Him--- or in Him, His temple. 

In this Psalm, the Sons of Korah, are sharing about the blessedness ('esher'=happiness) that is with those who remain and abide in God.  We know that, as His people, we are now His temple.  He dwells within us through His Spirit!  We, then, have this happiness always available to us.  We can abide in His love.  Always!

With the phrase "whose heart is set on pilgrimage" the Lord seemed to be reminding me that the direction I was pointed was important.  A pilgrim is going somewhere.  She is pointed in a very clear direction, with purpose in their journey.  I could feel the gentle rebuke of God's heart...  Where or to Whom is your heart, your mind and your soul pointed, Stephanie?  Where is your mind headed?  

In most cases, when my mind is buzzing with unproductive and unhelpful thought, I am most definitely pointed inward.  I am looking at me...  either in the negative, the positive, or just the practical... my eyes are downward or inward.  If I am not inwardly focused, I am focused just on my immediate earthly reality:  the very same "many things" that Martha was buzzing about.  I am headed in a circular race to get the next thing done, to fix this or that, only to start over again to fix the next thing and do this or figure out that.  It is a rat race in my head.  My own personal torture device!

The old adage comes to mind:  "Worry is like a rocking chair.  You move but go nowhere."

It is good to look up and out.  It is very good to stop--- to Sabbath ("to cease")---and look at Him.   It is not only good, it is essential and life giving.  I must stop the madness.  Just cease.  Just cease, sit, and ask myself, prayerfully, "What do you actually think?! What is true?"  In response to this question, I wrote in my journal today: I think and know He is---  and then followed it with all that He is---all that is True about my amazing God and Savior.

He is righteous.  He is good.  He is loving.  He is faithful.  He is covenant and steadfast.  He is wise.  He is aware.  He sees.  He knows.  He loves.  He judges rightly.  ... the list went on and on.

When I get locked in the hurried and heavy thinking of my running mind, this productive truth-thinking stabilizes me.  His truth---who He is, and who I am because of Him--- is an anchor for my soul and most definitely for my mind.  I can feel the order and equilibrium immediately.  This is indeed my "one needful thing" (Luke 10:42).  Every day.  Every moment of every day.

"You will keep in perfect peace all whose thoughts are fixed on You!" (Isaiah 26:3)

Open My Eyes, Lord

I woke up two mornings ago with pain and a very swollen eye.  No fun.  It looked like I had been in a fight and lost!  The quick jaunt to the optometrist confirmed that I have a few (significantly and deeply) blocked ducts with no apparent infection---at this point.   So warm compress... and a few weeks... and it all should clear up. 

Asking the Lord for insight into this, I feel led to pray...  Lord, unblock and release us from the things that keep us from seeing Truth.  Help me to see You, myself, and others truly.  Help us to see rightly, Father!  Open our eyes.   

I can see right now.  But, my vision is just slightly impaired by the swelling.  The pain makes me want to close my eyes and stop looking.  And, these ducts have been 'getting' blocked for weeks now---without my awareness and detection.  My eyes were affected and "off" kilter before I even knew it.

How else, Lord, am I seeing impaired? 

These prayers have prompted deep conviction in my own life.  I know there are ways I see the Lord... ways I see the world... ways I see myself and ...ways I see others... ways I see wrongly and off-kilter.  The eyes of my heart and my mind are blocked in some significant ways--as is true of us all.  I need His purification and release.  I need God's truth. I need Him to touch and heal those deep parts of me which are affecting my seeing---my heart-sight.

Scripture tells us to keep our eyes fixed on Jesus.  The Word reminds us that fixed minds and hearts stayed on Him are at peace. When our hearts are steadfast on His Spirit and when we look at things that are of His Spirit, we will keep in step with the Spirit.  When we see rightly, we can walk rightly.  When we are facing or looking in the right direction, we will walk in the right direction.  Right?  Obviously!

So, today, I choose to settle into the reality of my blocked ducts.  I will use it as a prayer trigger until the Lord sees fit to take it away.  I pray for myself first... and then for those I love.... and then beyond.  That the eyes of our hearts would be given light and wisdom to understand more Truth about who God is and who we are in His love (Ephesians 1:17-19)  Would you join me in praying this, too?

Lord, let us see rightly!  

Strength and Wisdom from Sorrow

My daughter wrote a stunning piece of spoken word.  I would love for you to click on the link and listen to her reading it out...   The truth in these words blessed my heart in a profound way. I share it with you with deep joy.

Click here

Or...https://drive.google.com/file/d/16g6vYacHhssWLukJuJOcM3IUrg-TVUs8/view

The text of the spoken word: 

When you look into a woman’s face
What do you see?
Sorrow.
It’s always there - 
it’s what gives the waves to the ocean in her eyes,
The fire in the pit of her stomach,
The lines around her mouth,
and depth to her words. 

Have you ever sat at the feet of a truly fierce woman:
Wearing truths she taught you to know;
just waiting, for the next pearl of wisdom to fall from her lips.
They splash onto those around her like tears. 

Tears shed for the ruined and loved boy,
tears for the cherished and lost child,
tears for the battered and beautiful friend, 
And hot wet burning tears for her own failures in grace.

These precious pearls were made through 
the scratching of the sand of the world
That made wounds and scars on her heart.
That left their cutting mark, but were not felt in vain. 

The laughter in the eyes of a child should be cherished. 
Always.
for, the liquid sunlight dripping from their eyes will vanish in time.

But the laughter of a woman is stronger still. 
For she has seen the inside of the darkness
and chosen to turn her eyes back to the sun; 
Even when she does not believe in its existence.

The flower might close at night, but soon it will be morning
And with a choice of perseverance 
She will again lift her eyes. 

Sorrow is the hinge-pin, the centrepiece, of a woman's life.
It ties her to those around her with a triple woven tread. 
Its end is what grounds her, like an anchor in a storm.
She has seen this before. 
She knows: in time, a gleam will arise out of the bloodied mess of broken souls.

She stands
It’s a choice
She knows
And with love, She chooses to throw her heart back into the fray
In order to touch the child, seeing darkness for the first time,
The man waylaid and pushed to destruction,
The women abused night after night, 
The running family with bombs sounding still in their ears, 
And the quiet grief of a boy who has nothing left to give.

This is why we come to their feet.
This is why we trust them with our love.
Their eyes hold a well of sorrow and a smile of peace.
We know they can hold more, 
and still will choose to look up from the dark to the sun.

Don’t forget their sorrow,
don’t rush on into life without their hands
They have lived your future pain.

Young women, those just tasting the start of truth,
Do not be afraid.
Every warrior has her story.
Yes, you too will have yours.
But a battered heart is not a broken life.
It is only a woman more ready to love
Well,
Wisely, and

Always. 

Link also here: https://drive.google.com/file/d/16g6vYacHhssWLukJuJOcM3IUrg-TVUs8/view
 or here  https://bit.ly/30nTbNj

Let's Dance Again

You know that moment when you are smiling so much, your face starts to ache just a bit?

I felt the ache in my cheeks the other night.  I sat, smiled, and watched them with deep joy.

How many were they?  Thirty?  Forty kiddos?  Up on stage...  standing in-front of a room of 250---some proud parents, aunties and uncles, and many they would not know.   Most of the audience friendly strangers. These kids of all ages were singing and dancing with all their might!   They sang song after song about Jesus--- His love and grace, His faithfulness and goodness.  Loud voices.  Full attention.  They sang out with their whole hearts.  They gave it their all.

Each song had movements.  Each child did the movements with their "stamp"---their personality.  Some made quiet, small movements. Some kiddos made exaggerated and beautifully flamboyant moves.  Some had hands, legs, faces all in sync.  They were perfectly orchestrated with the music.  You might say these were "on fleek"!   Others---little ones and bigger ones--- hardly managed the choreographed movements at all... they just danced.  Smiles.  Jumping.  Swaying.  Shuffling their little feet.

They performed with joy and freedom and so much fun!  It was pure delight to behold.

While I watched, I had a recurring thought which became a prayer:  When do we loose this?  When did we loose this, Lord?

When does this dancing, jumping, laughing, smiling, singing get lost?  Why don't we do this anymore when we sing of You?  

I began to pray these questions... When did I loose this unhindered joy in moving my body and singing songs for you?  What hinders me in worshiping You like this, Lord?  

As I watched and prayed, everything in me wanted to jump on stage and sing along.  Dance along.  I wanted to join them!

I know the stories that many of these kids walk.  I am aware of pain in their journey.  I know they don't live perfect lives, or in perfect families.  But, still... still...  this night they brought their whole bodies, hearts, and minds on stage and performed with exuberance.

Most faces in the crowd smiled.  Even the older teenagers--- this freedom already lost for most of them--- sat and watched with cheek-aching grins.

Joy begets joy.  Worship begets worship!

Father, I want some of it back!  What I lost... whenever it was... I want to know this childlike faith and purity again.  I want to worship You with my whole body, my whole heart, and all of me.  Teach me to join them in song.  Today... and moving forward.  "Let everything that has breath praise the Lord" (Psalm 150:6).  

"They should praise Him with dancing, they should praise Him with tambourines and harps!"  (Psalm 149:3)

Sad is Okay, Too

I see it in your eyes.  I see the emotion.

All of me wants you to know, "It's really okay to be sad." I see it and I want you to express it.  Please don't hide it from me.

You really don't have to tell me "it's good".  I know.  You know.  We both know.  Of course, it will all be fine, it is good and God is good.  I know that you know this.  We both know this!

Instead, please, friend, just feel the sadness and the pain.  Can you let yourself acknowledge the suffering and the difficulty that is real---the difficulty of the now?

Tears come.  They well up and want to spill out.  I see them.  You feel them. I know you do.  I see your 'fight' turn on.  As tears begin to spill out of your eyes, I watch your embarrassment.  Is it shame? You wipe your eyes, you press your fingers over your nose, you push, you wipe, you press, you apologize... everything in you is trying to hold back the tsunami of tears.  The sadness is real.

Please, can you just let yourself have a moment?  Can you let yourself have an hour, a day... a month... and acknowledge that this hurts?

Why do we judge ourselves and our feelings?  We all do it.

God-given gifts---feelings.  Our feelings are not for judging--- they just are.  Feelings--- all of them---just are.  They are data points.  Why must we put them into a box.  Negative feelings vs. positive feelings.  Bad vs. good.  Why don't we just let them be a fact, for a moment?  I have blond hair and green eyes.  I am 5 foot 6 inches.  Facts.

I am sad.  I am angry.  I hurt right now.  I am scared.  Facts, just the same.

You speak too soon, I think, of the "good" or of the "truth"--- making every effort to make yourself "okay", or trying to make sure I am "okay" watching your pain.  I am okay.  And, sadness is okay, too?  Oh, how we all want to escape the pain, run away from the hard... or, at least, make you think something else of me.

I see it friend.  Please let the sadness have it's say.  I promise we will lean into the good a bit later.  We will rehearse truth further on...  I promise.

Happy and sad can live in the same place, at the same time.  But, I see the pain now.  I see it in your eyes. I welcome it.

Would you trust me with the tears?

His Third "Coat" of Paint on Me

I was hardly listening to the song.  The music and lyrics were just wafting in the background.  In one moment, though, one particular line jumped out and sang hope to my heart:  "There are victories yet to come.  They are certain as the rising of the sun!" (Matt Maher, Great is Your Faithfulness)

Victories.  Coming.  Certain and sure!  This does my heart such good to remember.  

God knows how utterly frustrated I am with the places in my life and heart that are still bent, broken, and in need of victory.  He knows the disappointment, resentment and anger I can feel at myself, at my sin.   

Yesterday, while praying for a particular long-standing "issue" of heart and sinful thinking, I had a clear picture in my mind.  Most of you know this last year I have taken up watercolor painting.  One of the MOST difficult disciplines that I struggle with in painting (aside from my desire to paint perfectly), is the time it takes to let it dry between stages.  You have to be really patient.  Almost all my "fails", hands down, in painting, thus far... have come from rushing the process or being impatient.  It really doesn't work to rush it.  You have to paint one layer, one “wash”--- and then let it dry completely.  In this humid climate, even more, this reality has brought much annoyance to my impatient self.  

The painting in each stage looks chaotic, messy, and the picture is very unclear.  It’s not very pretty--- sometimes not at all.  The end picture is barely discernible. 

Instinctively, I want to move on quickly, keep painting... make the chaos that is wash one or wash two, into something I can discern or make out.  I want to see it complete.  But, in all honesty, I almost ruin most of my paintings when I rush and move on too soon.  

This was the picture that came to my mind as I was asking Father about this particular issue of sin and pattern of wrong thinking in my life...  He showed me watercolor painting.  

Creative God... painting His masterpiece--- me (and you!)... is always at work.  He is faithful and says in His word, He will bring us to completion.  (Philippians 1:6)  He will bring us into perfection!  Scripture tells us we can be confident of this--- "as sure as the rising of the sun!"  But, in Philippians, He also clearly states that this completion happens in time.  The process works it's way out until the 'day of Christ Jesus'--- meaning when the Kingdom comes in it's fullness.  

He's is just on a second, third, or fourth layer of paint on me!

I want to be done.  I want to see it's completion.  All the things in me, in those I love, and in this world around me--- I want them perfect.  Yesterday, please!

But, be of good cheer, my friends!    I speak to my soul, "Be of good cheer, Stephanie!"  He is at work.  He is faithful.   He is good. If the good work has begun in you, then He will indeed bring it to completion.  It is certain and sure.  

"There are victories yet to come!  They are certain as the rising of the sun. Great is Your faithfulness---always and forever!" 



*the paintings above are not my paintings.... Just lovely wash art by others--- free online to use.  

Good Friday Struggle

I hate it.  I really do.  I absolutely hate the story of the cross.

Today is Good Friday.  Today is the day we celebrate a story that I absolutely hate.   What an oxymoron.

This story.  This true, true story--- it tears at my heart and pains me in ways I can't explain.

Each year, as the day approaches and I know the story will be read and retold, I can feel myself wanting to run away and hide.  Like a child, I want to cover my ears, stick my head under my pillow, and never hear the horrible story again.  I hate it.

This past Monday morning, I was stunned by my visceral response when I remembered this was Holy week.  No! I could feel the cringe in my body and soul.  No! I don't want to read that part of the story.  The very mention of the topic and I can feel the sorrow, the pain, the suffering, and the tears welling up.

We call this day "good".  And, with all my heart, I believe and I know it IS indeed good--- so very good.  But, also, I can barely stand it.

It feels like reliving trauma or painful memories of my past.  Why must we, Lord?! 

Friday morning---this morning---we all enter the sanctuary and take our comfy seats.  The pastor reads the story out of Mark.  The parishioner reads from the Gospel of John.  We sing some songs.  They tell the story and share the truth of that day.  All morning, I can barely stand it.  I want to weep.  I want to wail.  Everything in me wants to scream!  Why must I hear again what my best friend---the man I love with all my heart---went through!?  Honestly, hearing the trauma and suffering is almost too much.  Even as I type this... I barely have words.  The heaviness of heart feels profoundly weighty.

Forgive them, for they know not what they do.

These words haunt me today.  These words tag along at my back, touch my cheek, and whisper deep into my heart.  I know I don't have a clue what I do!  I don't even get it.  All my rebellion.  All my selfishness.  All my pride and self-loathing.  Forgive me, Lord, for I don't know what I do! 

I found myself in Romans 7 earlier this week, frustrated with myself and my faithlessness.  "I do not understand what I do.  For what I want to do, I do not do.  But, what I hate, I do." (Romans 7:15)

I know that He pronounced it finished on that day.  He said it was finished that Good, very good, Friday.

For this, I am utterly undone.  My soul feels gratitude beyond words.  It is finished.  All my rebellion.  Covered, finished.  All my selfishness.  Finished and payed for.  All my pride and self-loathing.  Carried, covered, payed for, and finished.  

Forgive me, Lord, for I don't know what I do!  

This story.  This horrible story is the very center and foundation of all I know and all I absolutely need.  The result of that trauma--- my friend's horrific death and painful sacrifice---is the source of all that is good and right in my life.  All of it.

So, yes, I loath it... I really do.   I am grieving today.

But, I know and I remember, it very, very good.

"Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith.  For the joy set before him, he endured the cross, scorning it's shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God"  (Hebrews 12:2)

Follow Me Into the Kitchen

These were my very thoughts today.  I offer this old post... re-posted...as a testimony of how we continue to learn the same things over and over again!  -----

I have had a particular image bouncing around in my head for a while now.   This picture came to my mind again today, as I was praying.  How do I describe what I see?

In my mind's eye I see Jesus walking into my kitchen and I am following Him.  I follow Him into the kitchen and watch Him pull up His long draping sleeve.  He dives His hands into my sink full of soapy water and dirty dishes. Dirty dishes.  Then, I follow Him.  I pull up my sleeves, dive my hands in and wash those dishes.   Together.  We finish the dishes and then He turns and walks into my hallway... headed for the closet---the vacuum cleaner.  I follow.  We vacuum.  Together.

Like two oxen plowing a field, we are yoked together.  Beautifully bound in unity, we work together as one. His strength making all compensation for my weaknesses.  His wisdom directing our work.   His Presence bringing Light and Joy and Peace.

Him and me.  Bound together because of His gift of grace and my choice to follow.

When Jesus physically walked the earth over 2000 years ago, He said, "Come and follow me".  And, they did.  James, John, Peter, and Thaddeus...  they followed Him.  They watched Him and did what He did, with Him.  They ate together and slept next to each other.  They walked and talked and did.  

Together.  Bound together because of His love and their desire to be with Him.

When Jesus physically left the earth, He reminded these friends--his followers--- that He would always be with them.  Always Present.  Always near.

Today, He reminds me.  Me, His friend, His follower... He reminds me that He is always with me.  He offers me Himself---His very Presence.

Come and follow me, Stephanie, He says to me today.

He invites you, too!  Follow Me into your kitchen, your schooling, your phone call and your errands.  I will be with you always! 

"As for me, the nearness of God is my good."  Psalm 73:28

-----

edited and re-posted from original post dated November 7, 2012

Loved Even More Than Birdie

Every day, without fail, he comes to the window.

How he knows I am awake or how long he has been watching for me... only God knows!  My little friend---Mr. Black Bird.  Or, "Birdie" as we fondly refer to him.

Early each morning, I stumble downstairs and find myself a glass of water.  First things first...I am just trying to wake up!  And, without fail, Birdie flies over to my kitchen window.  He turns his head left, then right, trying to see me more clearly... I think.  Then he chirps.  Sometimes silently, just an open mouth chirp, like you might imagine from a young bird opening to his mother.  Sometimes he offers some soft sound. He is coming for food.  Raisins, to be exact.  (I have offered him alternatives without success)  His early morning cheeky begging for raisins is one of my great joys each morning.  I can hardly express the happiness it gives me to see him fly over---almost like he is announcing, "You're here!".

I adore his "feed me" eagerness and persistence.  I can walk around the kitchen for half an hour and he will wait.  Turning his head left, then right.  Mouth open.  Waiting.  Expecting.  He knows...  He just knows I can't resist him.  Too cute for words.

This was the keen picture which came to my mind today.  I was praying and telling God how thankful I was for His grand abundance of provision in my life.  There is so much He has given me---eyes that work, ears that hear, feet that function, a roof keeping off this horrid rain, a warm bed, food in abundance, and so so much more.  How can I even begin to articulate the gifts of goodness the Lord provides!?  I was in a moment of profound gratefulness... when this clear image of Birdie popped into my mind.

As I was prayerfully curious about the picture, I could sense God wanting to show Himself--- His heart.  This.  This, Stephanie, is how I feel about you. 

Like a flash, I had the thought that God loves to give.  ...No, not only loves...   God loves AND delights to give His kids good gifts.  It makes Him thoroughly happy when we come to Him for our food.  When we daily look for Him, wait for Him, and when we expect good things from His hand.  The joy I feel when I feed Birdie--- this.  This is how God feels about us.  We can bring Him joy.  You and me.  The thought of bringing joy and delight to God is truly staggering; and, certainly Biblical.

"You are precious in my eyes.... and I love you." (Isaiah 43:4)

"God the Father will give good gifts to those who ask Him." (Matthew 7:11)

"The Lord Almighty will take great delight in you..." (Zephaniah 3:17)

The verses are endless.  If you look for the heart of God---Old Testament and New--- you will see the heart of love, delight, and determination on God's part to give goodness to His people.

Lord, thank You for your daily provision for me.  You give me so many things... and even "raisins" (what I like!).  Keep my heart ready and waiting for You each day.  May I run to Your word and wait in anticipation for Your filling and feeding.  You delight to give me good things!  Your food is my hearts greatest desire, I know.  Keep me eager and persistent and ever looking for it---and looking for You.  

Every day.  Without fail.  I want to come to you and wait expectantly.

Sit With Me

Below I offer you an un-edited re-post of a blog I wrote August, 2016.

-------

Take a load off.  Sit for a while.  Rest... 

Sabbath is really, really important to God.  Plain and simple.  He makes no bones about it.  His commandment of Sabbath is uber-important.  Reading through the Old Testament, it would be hard to miss this clear theme.

I was struck again with this idea when reading in Numbers 15.  Throughout the Old Testament, God offers, over and over, a 'way out' or an avenue for forgiveness from sin.  In this chapter, He enunciates the pathway for recovery and forgiveness for unintentional sin.  And, then, BAM... right in the middle of the passage, we read about the "Sabbath-Breaker" who is to be put out of the camp and stoned to death.  No restitution is offered.  There was no-way back from THIS sin.  What, Lord!?  

Sabbath is clearly really, really important to God.  I wouldn't even attempt to count how often He reiterates this truth in the Old Testament; but, indeed, He does again, and again.  

In Numbers 15, we are given clarity as to why this Sabbath-breaker is punished.  His sin was deliberate, Scripture tells us.  Rebellious.  He had contempt for God's commands.  "He has despised the word of the Lord." (Numbers 15:31)

But what was he actually rebelling against?  What was He despising exactly?  What was offensive to him... this condemned man?  A day-off!?  For Sabbath is a day of rest.  No work.  A day for worship. Quiet.  Why in the world would he (or we) rebel against that?  

(Now, let me just pause here and make very clear that I believe, as a child of God and one covered by the blood of Jesus, I am no longer under the law.  I know and believe that Christ died for intentional and unintentional sin!  And His blood covers all rebellion, curses, iniquity, and transgressions... and every thing in between.  ...just in case you were worried.   But, that doesn't lessen the reality of God's heart and character being the same today, yesterday and tomorrow. So, I also believe, this conversation is immensely important.)

So, why in the world would this man rebel against rest, quiet and no work?  

Or, more poignantly, what do I resist or despise the gift of Sabbath?  

Ezekiel 20: 12 says, "I gave them (a gift!) my Sabbath as a sign between me and them that they might know I am the Lord (note the why behind the giving) who sanctifies them." 

In Mark 2:27 Jesus reiterates this theme that Sabbath is for men--- a gift.  Made and given for us... for our benefit.  Not a legal law to remain under, but instead a gift to receive.  Or not.  

When reading and sitting with this idea, I was struck by the end of the Ezekiel verse--- I am the Lord who sanctifies them. I looked up the word sanctify and found this definition:  "the state of proper functioning".  In the Webster definition it adds, for clarity sake, "a pen is sanctified when it is used to write"

I wrote down in my journal:  "pens are sanctified when writing.  People are sanctified when used for the purpose God intends---living according to His design. People are sanctified when living with God."  Sabbath is part of our proper functioning as human beings.  Part of our very purpose here on earth is to rest, worship, and enjoy God!  It is what we are made for.  

When I don't live in the rhythm of Sabbath rest, I am living in an unnatural way.  A rebellious way.  It is anti-human to work non-stop.  Sabbath is clearly very important gift from God to man.  

Do I despise it?  Fight it?  And, if so, why?  

Just sit for a while and enter His rest.

------
I re-post this as I pack up and head out for a 4 day silent, quiet retreat with God!!  ...I will sit and rest awhile, Lord.  I will receive Your gift to me!  

A Warm Place to Live

There is a place for me to live always.  I have a home.  It is a warm, inviting and cozy place.  It is settled.  Forever.

I hear the voice of God beckoning me home again and again.  Day after day.  Come and sit with me here.  Live with me.  In this place, you are home.  

Why is it I feel restless and homeless at times?  I need never feel unsettled or unsure.  Why is it that I ever worry or why do I let fear steal?  I need never be afraid.

Today, He reminds me again, that it is His will, His pleasure, and His determination that will redeem me and keep me.  It is He that holds me in His saving, righteous, strong hand.  (Isaiah 40: 10)

I need only abide.  Stay right here in Me.  Live in Me.  Walk every day in My presence.  

Abide.  Live.  Stay.  Remain.  I will abide in You, Lord.  Today, I remember.  

He tells me I can remain in the place that is always a home for me... His love.  (John 15:9)
His love, my warm home.

I wonder about house and home.  I look around me at the four walls and the roof that keep off the rain.  I do cherish these four walls---good gifts from You.  Thank you, Lord.

I feel the pains of this tent that can ache with age and are weighed down by the effects of gravity.  I do cherish this tent---wonderfully made by You.  Thank you, Lord.  

No.  Not these places.  This house.  This body... this body is not my home.

I wonder and find myself curious about the future---all the unknown about tomorrow.   I wonder about tomorrow's tomorrow.

He says,  I will never leave you.  Draw near to Me.  Live in My love. 

Yes, Lord, You have been our dwelling place, for generations.  (Psalm 90:1)

This is the place I live.  Your Love is my home.  My always home---right now.  And, yes, it is indeed a warm and cozy place to live.

Feeling Empty

I just didn't have it this morning.  I felt empty.  Lacking.

I woke up seriously lacking.  Lacking energy.  Lacking joy.  Out of sorts and out of whack,  I certainly didn't have it this morning.  Grace.  Love.  Peace.  Joy.  I didn't have any of it for myself, let alone for anyone else.

The morning habit of "the chair" always draws me... sometimes with excitement and anticipation, often simply out of discipline and habit.  At some silly-o-clock every morning, my alarm sings.  I wake.  I stumble down stairs and drink my glass of water.  And, then I go to my chair...  Habit.  Good daily habits. What a gift!

Bible.  Journal.  Prayer App.  Worship Music.  ...all tools I might use in my chair.  This day I just sat there, half awake, staring into the space in front of me.  How long did I just stare into the room? Looking but not seeing.  Just sitting.

I could scarcely hear the whisper waft my way... was it from my habit, was it from my Lord?...  Either way, I could hear a whisper:  the Word.  

The Word, Stephanie.  A still small voice reminding me to pick up God's word.  With automatic obedience, I lifted my bible and my journal from where they live in the basket next to the chair.

Opening the Bible, the red cloth book marker directed me where to place my eyes on the page.  Good thing for that marker!  Without it I may have just stared for more time into the nothingness.  Following the marker's direction, I found my place and I read.  Almost from the first word, from the pulsating life which lives within the very letters on this majestic page, I could feel a surge.  Truth.  I could feel the truth in the words I was reading.  None of the Words were new.  I have read them a thousand times, to be sure.  In fact, I had read the very same words yesterday.  But, again today, they were fresh with life.  Ah, the Word of God does wonders for the soul! 

As Scripture awakened my mind, my heart and my soul...  I began to see a bit more of me.  It took time.  A thawing was beginning as I read word after word.

Finally words from within me began to emerge.  The first words I scribbled in my journal said, "I just don't have it today."

I just don't have it, Lord.  I am seriously lacking.  

As if God is surprised by this confession, right?  He is well aware of our need for Him.  He knows I am lacking.  I am always lacking...

Yes, I know, Stephanie.  So, now that you know, ask Me for exactly what you need.   

What did I need from God?  Today.  What was my need.  Oh.  So much!  I need grace, Lord.  I need love today, Lord!  I don't have it.  I don't have it for me.  I don't have it for anyone else.  

Truth washed over my mind like a flood.  I have both in abundance.  I am Love.  I am rich in grace.  And, I live IN you.  

In You...  abundance.  richness and fullness.  

I could feel the boldness growing.  Yes, I can ask for exactly what I need!  Yes, my God is rich in mercy.  I need joy, Lord... Oh man, I am really not feeling the joy, Lord!  Can I have more joy today, please? And, oh, I'm seriously needing peace and definitely patience...  I need so much, Lord.  

In the dark, cold morning, I was warmed by His invitation.  My Spirit lives in You.  My fullness.  Love.  Joy.  Peace. Patience... all I am, accessible to you.  Always.  A living stream of life and truth is welling within you, because I live in you.  I dwell in you.  You have everything you need.  Everything.  In Me.  Ask me... and then wait and see!  

Truly, I walked away from my chair with more joy and peace.  I asked and He answered.  I could feel Him giving me what I needed for the day.  Enough.  I always have enough in Him.  I simply needed to ask and receive.  Bread enough for my today.

I didn't have it this morning.  But, my God does and He loves to give the good gift of His Spirit to His children.  (Luke 11:13)

"Whoever believes in Me, as Scripture has said, rivers of living water will flow from within them. He was speaking of the Spirit..."  (John 7:38, 39)

What is Your Kryptonite?

My kryptonite is "making mistakes" or "doing it wrong"*.

I know, to some personalities, this sounds absurd...  "We all make mistakes", you might say.  All the time everyone makes mistakes, right?  But, for me, even the smallest of mistakes can bring a shame storm of hurricane proportions which ravages my soul.

Other personalities have other kryptonite... for some its vulnerability or powerlessness.  For others, their weak spot is being misunderstood, or a broken relationship, or conflict.  My kryptonite is doing it wrong.

Like Superman, the moment I become aware of my misstep, my soul begins to writhe in pain and I struggle for strength or breath.   Like a green death rock, the mistake is chained around my neck and I can hardly think straight.  I know this sounds overly dramatic.  ...but, it really isn't.  Do you know that feeling of shame?  The hot pouring shame that makes you shake inside and out... call it embarrassment, call it guilt, call it anger (it looks so many shades of green).  Shame seems to take over, ransacking the limbic system of our brain and shutting down the prefrontal cortex that helps us to think rightly!

Whatever your kryptonite is... whatever triggers the shame for you, we all know that hot, breathless place where we either want to fight, freeze or fly away.  In the midst, you just want to disappear... "crawl into bed and pull the covers over my head... go to sleep and never wake up" (exactly how I used to describe it as a teenager).

Well, yes... I do make mistakes all the time... just like everyone else!  And recently, to add insult to injury, I have been making a lot of mistakes.  I mean, a lot.  From small, "nothing" mistakes... to pretty big, significant mistakes... I have been tripping over my own two feet for a few weeks now.

The last mistake was five keys off the right note--- singing in front of a group of people at our town's Open Mic night (another effort in my life to be brave and have fun).  We had planned the song in one key... but, printed the song sheets in a totally (5 key different!) key.  Hmmm...  Yeah, it didn't go so well, as you can imagine.

After sitting down, I could feel the hot shame-filled bucket pour over my head.  I began to shake.  Anger.  Tears welling.  I wanted to disappear... run away, hide under that table.  All I could think was "Never again!!"  Never. Never. Again.  I won't put myself in this position again.  THIS is what brave brings! Never!

The storm lasted in and out through the whole evening, following me into my restless sleeping.  Tossing in the night, I would awake and literally put my hands over my face--- hiding from whom exactly?!?  Myself.  God?    Tossing and turning, I would groan.

I do understand that for some of you reading this, you may think it a bit odd...  why would the wrong note sung in a song bring such pain?  But, weren't we all a bit confused and watched in disbelief when Lex Luthor would chain up Superman with a green rock!  What?  Come on, Superman, it's just a glowing green rock!

Remember, mistakes are my kryptonite.

In the midst of it all, and through the whole night, here and there I also became aware of a still, very small voice that whispered an invitation.  I remember barely hearing its faint words... and almost completely ignoring it... just as I sat down.  After the song finished and I sat---right as the bucket of shame splashed around me at the table when I sat down, I heard it.  It was so quiet.  Almost in the distance...

A still small whisper...  There is another way.  

Stephanie, there is another way.

As I have been prayerfully processing my weeks of wrongs and my discomfort, I have been asking Father about this other way.  Is it another way to sit in or feel shame?  Is it another way to respond entirely to mistakes or doing wrong?  What is the other way, Lord?  

I am certain the answer isn't that I won't have kryptonite----or any weakness.  (Although that would be fabulous!)  For, I know, in my weakness, He is strong!  So, nope... perfection isn't an option.  (Dang it!)

Now, I am asking God to continue to show me the other way of reacting or a new way of seeing Mr. Luthor... What is the other way, Lord, while the kryptonite is being chained around my neck? 

Just for fun... have a gander at the clip of old---bring back childhood memories:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OkSaAhbceBk



*For those who know the Enneagram tool, I am a One.  

Rugged, rough places in My Soul

I felt deep sadness.  I know his words were not meant to hurt.  He would never intentionally want to hurt me, I know this.  But, instantly, I could feel the pain welling.  The tears rose, slowly brimming at the edge---threatening to spill over.  Later, in the quietness and stillness of the morning hours, I could let them pour forth.  Sadness.  Just deep, profound sadness.  

Learning to stay curious about my emotions has been life changing.  I am so grateful for this gift.  

Why, Lord?  Not an intellectual question, as such... but, a soul question.  A question of wonder, awe, and simple curiosity.  I am asking God, the One who knows and sees all, to show me to me.  

Why, Lord?  Why did his words pain me so?  

It's old... deep, and old.  

Old, past wounds were surfacing with the simple scratch of his now words.  They touched something deep.  They touched a young me.  They hurt.  Not because he was hurting me.  They hurt because there was a painful spot, deep within, that was being poked.  Call it scars.  Call it a sore spot.  His words touched something before...  

But, we've looked at these many times, Lord.  

Yes, many, many times.  

So, why is this coming up again?  Why, Lord?  It feels so fresh.  Show me, Lord.  Show me, me.  

My life is dripping with abundance.  Truly.   So, why this sadness today?  It's not about today.

I asked and I sat.  I cried and I prayed.  I journaled.  I picked up the Scriptures and He opened my eyes, again, to His big, grand why-plan...  

In Isaiah 40, God speaks so tenderly to the heart of His people.  He tells them to be comforted. Comfort, comfort we hear Him say.  What comes in the next section surprised me and jumped off the page at me today...   They can be comforted because their sin is forgiven AND because..."Every valley shall be raised up.  Every mountain will be made low.  Every rugged and crooked place straight.  The rough places will be made a plain."(Isaiah 40:4)

This is WHY... this is the why-plan God is activating in my life as I stay curious about my painful, wounded past hurts.  

The truth is, in all of us---every. single. one.--- there are valley places, crooked places, and rough places in our souls.  He loving heart is to smooth us out.  He is clearing out the debris.  He is straightening out the wrong, bent parts of me.  Making me... inside me... a straight, plain place.  He is making me a green pasture.  

The words said to me this morning were not meant to hurt me, I know that.  They were innocent words that happened to fall upon a crooked place in me.  In the quiet and the stillness of moments with God, I can visit those crooked, bent places and have a look.  With Him, I can look intently at the pain.  I see the data point that is my strong, painful emotions.  I stay curious and ask the Spirit of the Lord, who knows all things, to show to me, myself.  And, I trust His work to raise up those valleys.  

Have Your good and loving way in me, Lord!  

Grab Your Hammer

The look on his face was priceless.  At 16 years old, my son is well accustomed to doing his own laundry. Yesterday, his dad, as an act of love and kindness folded his clean clothes. It was just a mundane moment of love... not difficult for Dad, right?  It took only minutes of his time.  But, to my son... it was a gift.

We heard the surprise and confusion in his voice, calling from upstairs, "Did you fold my laundry, Mom?"  Nope, I said.  It was Dad.

The look on his face, as he ran downstairs, was beautiful- such gratefulness.
One small act of love.  One small gift received.

My husband had told me that morning he had felt God's nudge to do it.  He quickly and quietly obeyed this prompting.  ...and reaped a tender moment with his boy.

The giving of love, the receiving of love.  Did that small act matter yesterday?  Did that count?

We tend to enumerate and count big things in our world, don't we?  There are certain 'big things' that we take note of and admire---changing the world kind of "big" things.  We count and keep track of the biggies.  Money, fame, admiration, beauty, service, and "likes" all are important if they are BIG.  Numbers.  Growing numbers.  If they can be counted or named.  Seen.

But, what if...

What if it really is just the small and mundane things that matter?

Are we all sold a bill of goods in the idea that we have to all do something "big" and significant?  How often have I heard a call to "change the world!" (the whole world, really!?) or, as a child, the mantra "you could even be President!"  Big things.  Presidential things.  Important things.

What if its just simply about the day-to-day, every day things of life... the cooking dinner, talking to a friend, driving to work, answering email,  'hello' to the shop attendant, praying, reading, exercising, cleaning the kitchen, sweeping a back porch...  these every day life realities--- what if they are truly the highest moments- ripe with the most significance?

I am reading a book right now that is stirring in me and prompting such profound discontent.  The book is titled and propagated as a book on contemplation, prayer, and journeying with God.  I read the author's continual reminders of all the 'big' things she has done and is doing because of, or alongside, her contemplation and prayer.  Almost as if prayer leads to doing great things.  Sprinkled and spread within the nooks and crannies of her writing are the assertion of work-with-impact in significant places.

What if prayer doesn't lead to great things... what if prayer is a great thing?

My small life, in a very small place,... my one-person-at-a-time, one moment-at-a-time life...  has been screaming at me as I read--- voices accusing me of laziness, not-enoughness, and nothingness.  Does it matter that I spent time in prayer today---praying for one small person in a small place?  Is that work of significance?  This critical voice tells me that my small life is less than.  What if that voice is lying to me?  What if...?

What if...

Twice this week I happened upon the story of Noah in Genesis.  At first glance, I felt the tug of this "huge" thing that Noah did.  Right?  It felt like an affirmation and nod to the accusations I have been feeling.  Noah had a huge impact!  He saved humanity from extinction, for goodness sake!  Or did he?

As I have been digging in and reading further, another thought has occurred to me---another Voice.

What did Noah actually do?  God saw the future.  God spoke.  God brought the animals.  God closed the door.  God brought the rain and sustained the little boat above the waves.  Really, when it comes down to it...Noah just built a boat.

He built a boat.

He picked up a hammer and some nails...  and made a really large boat.  That is actually what he did.

People build boats every day.  Right?  Johnny Cash wrote some songs and sung them.  Stephen King put some words on a screen.  And, Monet took some color and splashed it about---beautifully---on a canvas, or two.  But, actually, Cash, King, Monet and Noah really just lived their everyday life... eating, drinking, sleeping, cleaning, and living lives.  For better or worse, they danced their dance.  Just like you and me.

Color on a page.  Words on a screen.  Songs on an instrument.  A nail and a hammer.

With this thinking in mind, a new phrase sits with me now when I think about Noah's story. There is a profound and huge statement in Genesis 6:22... "Noah did precisely everything the Lord commanded him to do".

There it is!  That's it, right?!

My husband, yesterday, felt God's whisper to fold laundry...  and he obeyed.  If writing Scripture today, would God inspire the words, "And Dave did precisely everything the Lord commanded him to do."

Oh, how I long for this to be true of me!

The "whatever you do, whatever you eat or drink, do it all to the glory of God"(1 Corinthians 10:31) and "whatever you do, word or deed, do it all in the name of Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father" (Colossians 3:17)

What if I was like Noah... I go about my day, listening to God's command and doing "exactly what God commanded". What if I pick up my hammer and nails and build a boat?  What if my task today is to pray?  What if He nudges me to worship?  What if my folding laundry life is the big thing for today... the obedient, worshipful, honoring thing that God would have me do.

What is the look on God's face when we obey and actually do what He wants, I wonder?  I would guess its profoundly beautiful and priceless.

Creativity Unleashed and the Battle Rages

In an effort to incorporate and 'lean into' a bit more fun in my life, I began watercolor painting in June.  I am enjoying the process and have been painting frequently--- in some cases even losing track of time (which never happens in my life!).

On a side note, that is a definition of 'fun' I once heard.  "Fun is when you are doing something and loose track of time".  According to this definition, I never have fun and my husband is absolutely always having fun!!  Which may or may not be true.

Joking aside, I am indeed having fun!  But, I can honestly say that this fun has had it's challenges and the enjoyment is often under siege.  Let me explain.

I don't think I am alone when it comes to a perfectionistic tendency.  I know that the critical voices, and the judgmental reality and struggle, come alongside any type of creativity.  I have yet to meet one author, one visual artist, dancer, singer, or musician that hasn't had their own battle.  The fierce fight with thoughts of all sorts...'didn't hit that note','missed that step', 'could be a bit more profound', 'doesn't look quite right'...   Judgment seems pretty constant when trying to create.

These negative voices have been loud and intense at times.  Just to be clear, by and large, the 'voices' I am talking about are almost always and exclusively in my head.  ...the inner critic, some call it.  The imagined judgment.  Or, the very real criticism that Stephanie has of Stephanie's work.  She can be really, really mean.

The other day I tore up, ripped in half, a piece of art I had been working on for a week.  I was fed up with the painting and threw it away.  When I told my son, he said (with this tongue firmly in his cheek) "Mom, are you going to cut off your ear any time soon?" (think:  Van Gogh)  No, son... I am not!  I laughed at his words and appreciated his reference.  But, here's the deal.  Creativity can be really hard.  Why am I so mean to myself?

It wasn't long ago--- even a few years ago---that I was in adamant, verbal denial of my creative abilities, at all.  "I am not a creative person", I would say to my husband.  He disagreed just as adamantly as I denied the fact.  I finally understand that every human being, being created in the likeness of our Father, is 'creative' by nature.  We create all the time, just as He creates all the time.  Call it cooking, baking, email, organization...  Call it what you like, we---as beings---create.  We are made to create beautiful, wonderful, and new things every single day.

Anyway, so... yes, I am creative.  So are you.  But, unlike God--- I create imperfectly.  And, there lies the rub.  I have been wrestling within this battle, indeed, as I paint, or write, or speak... sometime even when I cook!

Is my Father judging my picture?  Is He pointing out the flaws in the brush strokes or angle?  No!  By no means!  We, ourselves, are better parents than that, right?  What do we do when our children bring us their art work? We oooo and we ahhh and we enjoy the beauty they create--- pasting it to our refrigerators and posting it to our walls!

Why?  Why are we so mean to ourselves?  I know I am not alone.

Yesterday another friend voiced her creative struggle.  With deep frustration she blurted out, "But... I keep thinking... what is the point?  Why am I even doing this?  What does it produce?"

She vocalized a second problem and battlefield within creativity:  pragmatism.

Second to perfectionism is the issue of pragmatism.  Ah... the modern idea that everything has to be useful or practical.  And, if I am anything, I am practical--- practical to a fault.

My watercolor paintings have very little (if any) use.  Okay, yes,... to ease this discomfort, I have made a few birthday cards.  That's practical!  But, really, I now own a pile---ever deepening pile--- of 'useless' paintings.  Sunsets, buildings, landscapes, flowers.  Why?  For what purpose?

Oh the battle rages!

Immediately when she said those words in frustration, I understood.  I deeply understood.  But, on the heels of the understanding was---literally--- a picture of a bright flower in a field of wild flowers, followed by the image of a giraffe.  A flower and a giraffe.  That's what came to mind.  Flower... bright and beautiful.  Here today and gone tomorrow.  Why?  What purpose is that splash of color?  And, a giraffe...  why?  So creative and so weird and ...fun and bold and bright.  Beautiful.  Why?

So, as the creation battle continues to rage, I will press in and lean into the fun.  I will make color on page... I tell myself.  I am creative, just like my God.  He splashes color on a page every single day.  So can I.

I will paint the weird, fun, bold and bright.  And, like a child... I can do this for no "purpose" and my Father can enjoy it, in all it's imperfection.

As a beluga whale was made to swim.  I was made to create.  So, create I must!  And, maybe, just maybe I will have fun and loose track of time.

Today. Sit down and eat.

It just jumped out at me.  She said it, really, just in passing.  Smack dab in the middle of another story she said it.  And, in that moment, it was as if from the computer Skype screen it jumped out and snatched my heart.  

There are those moments.  They are often small, really.  Small, yes, but not insignificant. I think they are profound moments to be alert to---watch for and be awake.  

It was just in passing.  It rolled off her tongue.  What is He inviting you to today?  she said.  

What. ... His. ...Invitation.  ...You. ...Today.  

Today.  Now.  

Recently a few friends have shared with me the pain and suffering of the dark, grey hues of an unclear future.  These friends look ahead and don't know what to do.  All in remarkably different situations and circumstances. All are uneasy, in the least.   Some are truly panicked. All deeply afraid and even angry.  What was/is God doing?  What is coming?  What am I supposed to do?  I don't know what to do?  It makes no sense.  There is no path forward.  I have heard these questions and statements spoken over and over again.  I have been troubled with them, holding their pain, and praying for each one.  Today, I was reminded me that in each case the worries are about tomorrow---all about the future. 

The future.  Not today.  

Psychological studies say that we spend at least 75% of our time thinking about the future--- be it next week, next month, or ten years from now.  And, other statistical analytical studies show that 95% of what we think about (that 75 % of the time) never comes true... or never even shows up as a reality.  

Tomorrow.   ...or even tomorrow's tomorrow!  

What about the now, Stephanie? What is He inviting you to today? 

The question 'what am I supposed to do?'  ...when asked about the now... is usually, and generally, not that difficult.  What am I supposed to do now?  Well... now ...I need to take a shower, or clean this pile of laundry, or answer that email, or make some dinner, or go to bed.  

It is the future that trips us up.  It is the future that can trip me up.  What is around the corner?  What do I need to prepare myself for?  Or, what will happen if...?  or What am I supposed to do?  

I am struck that regardless of where I am on the journey; whether in the dark valley or the green pastures (Psalm 23), it is very clear what I am supposed to do in the now.   God tells me.  If it's the valley... I am to sit and feast at the table.  Sit down, eat and receive.  

His Word.  His Presence.  God's very self is the food I need as I 'walk' in the valley of the shadow of death.  Let Him pour over me His oil, Himself.   This is the invitation for today... in this dark valley. 

If I find myself in the green pastures...  what am I to do?  Lie down.  Follow.  Rest.  Enjoy.  Be refreshed.  Again, pretty clear what I am to do today.  

As over simplistic, over used, misused, and even trite as it may sound or feel as I type these words on a page: "Do not worry about tomorrow" ... these words feel utterly essential for my heart today.  

For my friends.  For me.

I want to look for His invitation to sit down and eat.  Today.  Or, to wade in the water, rest and lie down.  Can I just get on with it and fix dinner, or write that email, or fold that laundry while feasting on Him?  Can I simply do what I need to do today, and let His love and goodness follow and surround me?  

Lord, what do You have for me today?