The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they pour forth knowledge. There is no speech or language where their voice is not heard. Their voice goes out to all the earth, their words to the end of the world. Psalm 19:1-4
There is a time when silence has its own magnificent language, you can’t adequately explain a sunrise, or a full moon rising over the earth. You have to see it, and once you see it you have to answer the question: “Who did this?”
I love words. I love the art of crafting them on paper. I love reading what talented writers write. I use them to try to capture my feelings which are much of the time tangled and twisted inside me.
Writing is my way of making sense of my world and the world around me. They are necessary to use them to have good relationships with people, especially the ones we care about. But sometimes I wish we could just read each other’s hearts and know each other’s pain and struggles without all the words because sometimes words just aren’t adequate.
We could just sit in the silence like you do with a dear friend watching a sunrise. You know that feeling when at the same time you have that sharp little intake of breath when you see it…..”Oh…..” “Wow….” “Will you look at that?”
I could receive your heart and you could receive mine and all would be clear, nothing confused, like a sunrise. And we would say….”Oh….” “Yes…..” I see you clearly now. I understand.
And all would be well.
When we pray, something kind of like that happens. It’s something miraculous. As Christians, we reach out to the Holy Spirit of the God of the universe. We reach out on behalf of each other when we don’t know what else to say because the Holy Spirit knows the canvas written on each of our hearts.
He speaks with groanings too deep for words to the Father about us. He knows we don’t have the right words, but He does. He always does.
Prayer for today:
“Lord, I give you everyone in my circle today. Give us all the peace that passes understanding. Give us new strength for this good day, for they’re all good days because you are here with us. Help us to help each other in the right ways. Get the clutter out of our hearts so that we can see you and each other more clearly. Help us to love one another with Your love. Thank you for words and thank you for sunrises and sunsets and all this beauty around us. Help us never forget to notice it. Tamp out the worry and fear that threatens to overwhelm us at times. And help us always to know the future is in your hands not ours.” In your Son’s matchless name, Amen.
We love because He first loved us…….1 John 4:19
I thought of all these different titles for this post and none was right. Because this really is a love letter to Jesus. I am speaking to Him now out of the gratitude and the knowledge that He has not forgotten His daughter and never will. Never has.
Dear precious Lord:
Forgive me for forgetting at times how much you really love me. This morning I sat as my David Nevue spun peace into the morning, in the quiet. I wondered how it is that it’s become harder for me to pray. Could be I am just trying too hard? Sometimes all it takes is some remembering. Or maybe I just need to sit and listen.
I read the story of the prodigal son and I watched some of the Jesus Film project where you walked by the Sea of Galilee and called your disciples and saw your face light up as you called Simon and Nathaniel, John and all the rest, and I remembered that you called me too.
And like Nathaniel, you saw me under all the fig trees of my life. Isn’t that what we all really need? To know that we are seen and known by a God who loves us. Nothing I really worry about in this life will amount to a hill of beans in eternity. All that will matter is how I loved. And how you love me. Through every day, every joy and deepest heartache and mistake of my life, you’ve seen me and you still love me:
I heard John the Baptist quoting Isaiah saying, “Make straight a highway in the desert for our God”…..And I thought of my own time in the desert. That verse always makes me cry because I have stood where only cactus grew and felt the scorching heat and I have imagined I heard that lone voice……You are no less a Presence here. Like the Israelites in the desert, your Holy Spirit goes wherever I go. I may not always feel you the way I think I should, but I know you are here. The same Presence that has lifted David soul out of the mire has delivered mine more times that I can count.
Thank you for the assurance of knowing that every little thing that concerns me concerns You too. Sometimes I forget. I guess what I am trying to tell you is that all I really need to do is fall in love with you all over again, every day. And by that I don’t mean in a husband way like some of those praise songs say, because you are God after all.
The thing is, You still have the cure for whatever ails us. You are still the Healer. Thank you for giving strength to my weary bones and filling all the hurting places with your gentle Presence. Help me to do what is in my power to love my neighbor but also remember that with that comes the first part of the command, to love myself as well.
Love always, your girl down here.
I would not suggest inviting the cat (or in this case cats) to your prayer time. They insist on taking God’s place as first billing. This morning I walked down juggling heater canister, coffee and treat down to the prayer closet by the river. Mrs. Weigum was waiting for me and I held the gate open for her as usual. Since moving here, she and her brother have attached themselves to us since the neighbor is hardly ever home. She waits for prayer time because that means lap time.
I settled in and hardly had a chance to say, “Oh Jesus thank you for the miracle of this new day and I invite you into it……” When from my lap came a hiss and a primordial growl. Brother had followed us down there and she was extremely offended that he was invading her space. She slapped at him when he got too close.
He tried to jump into the prayer cabinet and I hastily closed the door. Then he investigated every surface in there and insisted on jumping into the little sink and then the window sill. (Whoever said cats were independent were never around any cat I’ve ever had). And these aren’t even mine.
After all the ruckus I gave up on praying or reading my devotional. I was too busy playing referee.
As I turned the heater off and blew out my candle, the sun was peeking through the trees and the birds were heralding the new day so I lifted the cover off the Adirondack chair and Weigumina and I sat there and watched as God lifted His curtain on another day. And a beautiful one it promises to be.
A fish jumped nearby and her head swiveled in that direction and then a crane launched itself from a tree across the river. I love watching how they fly with their long legs straight out. They have started their morning cacophony up in the trees across the way. We call them “the cluckers.”
I guess you could say I had my prayer time. It’s not always about the words we say, but the gratitude that fills our hearts when we thank Him for the new day and where it comes from.
Thank you Jesus.
“The spiritual function of fierce terrain…is to bring us to the end of ourselves, to the abandonment of language and the relinquishment of ego. A vast expanse of jagged stone, desert sand, and towering thunderheads has a way of challenging all the mental constructs in which we are tempted to take comfort and pride, thinking we have captured the divine. The things that ignore us save us in the end.”~ Belden Lane in THE SOLACE OF FIERCE LANDSCAPES (buy it on Amazon, it’s worth it)
A voice is calling, “Clear the way for the LORD in the wilderness; Make smooth in the desert a highway for our God.” Isaiah 40:3
“Nature never taught me that there exists a God of glory and of infinite majesty. I had to learn that in other ways. But nature gave the word “glory” a meaning for me. I still do not know where else I could have found one.” C.S. Lewis
A person can have a profound encounter with God anywhere, because God is everywhere; but my time in the desert taught me something I don’t think I could have learned any other way. There is a quiet majesty and power there that speaks in the silence. There is a holiness in the sudden rain that comes after the merciless scorching heat of the summer. That rain feels like grace.
The extremity of its character alone simutaneously punishes and rewards like the pillar of smoke and fire God showed up in while guiding the Israelites through the desert. It says, like God, “Keep your eyes on me and you will get through this and reach the promised land. Take your eyes off the trail to your own destruction.”
The desert is just that drastic and following the rules leads to life or death too. In order to live in the desert, you have to obey some very simple rules:
Never find yourself without water.
Know which snakes and insects are poisonous and which ones are harmless.
If you get stuck in the middle of a dust storm while driving turn your headlights off.
The vastness and stark beauty of it makes one feel very small and vulnerable in a way similar to being in the ocean where you can’t see land. Or caught in a thunderstorm in the Sierras. You wonder how any species could survive, plant or animal, yet somehow they do. The quail lead their microscopic chicks straight out of the nest and along the rocky ground. Sometimes they start with ten and end up with three.
And in the summer it feels like a place of death. You run from one building to the next, you look for the one shady spot someone just pulled out of. And summer seems to last forever. And then one morning in November you are rewarded with coolness and it’s like being born again.
I believe there is a reason for the wandering in the desert and not anywhere else. The harsh landscape makes it easier to know you depend solely on Him, and that goes for physical wandering and also the other kind; when you’re wandering in the “dry spells and deserts of life.”
But there is always hope in every kind of desert you may find yourself in. That in time, He will bring you to the other side. The cactus wil bloom again, life will appear where there was none. You will feel the cool breeze once again and know that you have made it through.
Last Saturday I had one of those undefinable moments of peace that come which I have been trying to recreate ever since. Every now and again all those factors come together to create a memory burned in your soul. Those are the ones that remain long after years pass.
It was like this. I was deciding whether to go out on a morning walk, but then I decided to stay in and make Elaine breakfast since she has done that for me innumerable times. (She was fast asleep in the back) Living in an RV you are pretty much camping all the time, so I did what I needed to do with the stove. (Moved the Keurig so I could use the front burner) Then I rustled around for the lid to the pan, trying not to make too much noise.
Alexa remembered my David Nevue mix on Pandora and it was filling in the quiet softly in the background. As sausages sizzled in the pan, I scrambled eggs as a golden light filled the kitchen. When they were done I took them out and cooked the eggs in the remnants and after I sprinkled a little grated cheese over the top I put the lid back on and poured myself another cup of Don Francisco breakfast blend.
It was sublime. Isn’t it sometimes the simplest tasks you do for someone else that bring the most joy and peace? When Elaine got up I shared how I was feeling and said, “What if these days in the Motorhome turned out to be some of our best and sweetest memories?”
These days of transition that have been a sacrifice and a struggle.
These days that have put a much bigger financial dent in our lives then we ever dreamed.
These days we longed for our old stability, security and rest.
But…….could it possibly be that these moments must might be some of the sweetest when we look back through the clouds of eternity? Jesus is still here. He hasn’t left us, this I know. And though I haven’t had the rich prayer life I had in Arizona, I have had other things, other blessings.
I have been able to walk and drive along these streets again awash with memories, and walk up my parents drive, knowing they are still in their house together. I can help where I can and leave when I can’t. I have that choice.
I have been able to get to know my Aunt in a way I never would have if we hadn’t lived here in all this beauty.
Jesus said, seek peace and pursue it. Pursuing it means you have to do certain things in order to get it. Recovery teaches that. You have to own what’s yours and not borrow other people’s responsibilities and trouble.
There is a time to step in, but you have to know when to step out for your own sake and theirs too. That is the most difficult thing to get right. All any of us can do is our best and pray we are going the right direction.
I wish Peace, His Peace for you and for me my friends.
Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world gives, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid. John 14:27 (KJV)
God is not human, that he should lie, not a human being, that he should change his mind. Does he speak and then not act? Does he promise and not fulfill? Numbers 23:19
Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today. Hebrews 13:8
Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like the shifting shadows. James 1:17
I don’t know about you, but I draw tremendous comfort from a God who never changes. People and relationships will change. Circumstances change. Life is all about change and frankly, I am tired of it. I want a settled life.
But the fact that I am tired of it won’t change it. Change won’t stop until we take our final breath and part of what it means to be well-adjusted is to make peace with that. I am learning to breathe and find peace in the moments. I have spent way too much time mired in anxiety since we moved and it has stolen too much of my joy.
I remember going out in the early morning dark when I was trying to make this big decision and praying while gazing at the moon. It’s kind of like God’s face. I made the decision to leave my comfort zone, one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. My life is open-ended, there are no conclusions, no end results yet. But here is the line of the song that just came through my headphones:
But He’s alive and there’s an empty grave……my redeemer lives.
And when He said, “It is finished,” He meant it. What that means for all of us that believe His words are true is that the biggest conclusion of our lives is all wrapped up. The struggles and questions we have down here, well, He is totally equipped to help us with those too.
So until the dust settles, I am thanking Him for all those moments when I surrender my anxiety and exchange it for His peace. And when my time here runs out and it will for all of us, I will be able to say with Him. It is finished, and the end result will be very, very good.