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returning to the Shepherd’s side
We often think that our choice to wander away from our Good Shepherd will manifest as an outwardly obvious decision. Sometimes it is outright defiance. Other times, though, our stubborn rebelliousness may not be apparent to us. I’ve learned that, more often than not, my own wandering begins as a slow meandering after what is good. Before I realize it, I am focusing too much on the good and less on the source of good: God Himself. I slowly, unsuspectingly, put distance between myself and Him. The Lord has given us a broad land and much freedom to roam, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t still pitfalls nestled among the…
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sanctuary
As the week drew to a close and my self-imposed deadline loomed nearer, my stress level continually rose. Friday arrived and I greeted it with tears. I had one day left to finish everything on a still very long list of to-dos. How was I ever going to get it done so that I could enjoy the holidays? I dropped the children off at daycare and went quickly home. Everything ground to a halt. I felt like a giant ball of panic. What happened next was so simple, but I will never forget it. I cried out to the Lord, and He helped me.
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reaching toward home
Reaching toward one thing unavoidably requires distancing from another. In this case, I was pulling away from God and His wisdom, and from my family, to try and get my needs met. I was looking to my own enjoyments to obtain peace, rest, fulfillment—things that only He can provide. My peace and contentment can’t be found anywhere else but with the Father. Looking back, I can see the ways that I refused to go to Him with my need. While I was grasping at straws, He was still reaching out to me, watching over me. His hand was always extended. The answer to my desire was right there the whole…
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standing in awe
Nothing solidifies my awe of God more than being on a beach where water pounds into the shore, loud and furious. Nothing brings me to amazement more quickly than gazing into the clear night sky. I see the heavens twinkle and the inky blackness simultaneously come close and stretch into distances unknown. How can I not come to God with honour and wonder and fear? With my whole self? Might it be that I have forgotten? Or have I chosen to ignore in whose hands I am resting as I go about my daily pursuits?
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the hidden life
Every dry season, every scathing wind that rips at us where we are most vulnerable, God uses to build our strength, to increase our perseverance and our faith in Him. I believe He allows us to go through periods of raw discomfort so that when the prophesied times of testing come, we will not be like “the colleagues who are spoiled for water.” We will not wither away because of a lack of strong roots. The dry, uncomfortable conditions of both daily life and seasons of life keep us digging deeper, spreading our roots deeper into the Rock who is our foundation.
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endurance and expectation
The world as we know it is being shaken. People are scared. But we know what comes next. We know there is Light to be had. We were rescued to give thanks and to triumph in His praise, so that hope is made known and that faith might spring from it to those around us.
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in the hands of the Renewer
Be it human invention or God’s natural order, I think the earth and everything in it is wired for renewal. At the deepest level though, it is our hearts that need renewal most. The truth is that no turn of the calendar or change of address, no fresh coat of paint or purchase of a new gadget is going to sustain our hearts and souls for long, even if those things are exciting and lovely in and of themselves. So then, let us put our hearts into the hands of a very tender Potter.
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o come, o come Emmanuel
We look back in history to see those who long waited for the Messiah to come. They saw him and rejoiced. They remained steadfast and hopeful even when at times it seemed that the vision tarried. We now are in their same positions, with our eyes fixed on the final coming. We have read the Scriptures. We note the signs given to us who believe. We keep watch over what we have been given to watch. We pack lightly for the journey, bringing ourselves and our raised hands as gifts to the One we adore.
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into the ground
I’ve never planted garlic before. It feels like a great act of faith on my part to plant a seemingly inanimate kitchen ingredient into the ground just as the warmth of summer is ending and the deadness of winter nears. It seems impossible that a cold, dark, uncomfortable period of time is just what is needed to produce something vibrant, beneficial, and abundant.
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what is this stirring deep within me?
When I grow weary I pull from my heart pictures of home, weathered and scratched and curled on the edges. My Father writes me letters daily and sends new photos; they are my joy because I know he is with me. His thoughts are toward me, and he too is eagerly awaiting our final reunion. The day we all come home.
