this one thing

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039The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps. +Proverbs 16

I stubbed my toe on it this morning.

Yowl with a jump and a grabbing one-hop grimace::: shrill

Ow.OW.OWWWW.

They were watching me.

Of course.

:::::::::::::: they always are.

Stuck screeching and limping and trying not to will forth words that bend an ear and bend a heart::::

What will she do next, this drama mama we got?

Made them startle a bit:: too::: from the Cheerios and milk and this quiet little house dawning new beginnings.

I stubbed my toe on it today.

This change we got.

Walking straight on the wide road and it just popped like a rock on the way.

In the way.

Stubbed and stopped up quick-like.

So this grace-blessing gift of our road would narrow, pointing straight to Him. The less- traveled one.

::::By us, anyway.

Jolted.

by that change we got.

When we said to Him, “We are Yours and You make us and keep us and bend us and try us and lead us and love us and purge us and do with us what You will…”

And my sister says with a chuckle and a heart full of love for Him, you know what you’re asking for, right? He’ll do it. You know that. You ask Him to purge and love and mold and change and He will…. He’ll do it.

And I say Yes.

And so it comes.

Not because I told Him He could, but because He already knew He would.

Because He is all-sovereign and awesome-big and fierce-mighty and real-loving like that.

And we grope and celebrate and grasp and smile and fall and rise and wonder and wander and keep close to Him.

:::::: praying, for obedience to Him, trust in what He has for us, living in His truth…

When we stub toes and when we get up and when we push forward and when we fall back and when we kneel praying and when we look up singing and when we breathe this thing called change in and live it out for Him…

He has us.

He has this.

And when our little ones look after us, we want them to know this truth.

His promise in this ever-changing, up-ending world.

He has us. He has this. We trust in Him, He makes our paths straight.

Because this one thing remains::::

::::::::::::::::::in all of the change.

He: does not.

For I, The Lord, do not change. +Malachi 3

Driving away

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If you pour yourself out for the hungry and satisfy the desire of the afflicted, then shall your light rise in the darkness and your gloom be as the noonday. And the Lord will guide you continually and satisfy your desire in scorched places and make your bones strong: and you shall be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters do not fail.  +Isaiah 58

She boasts proud this one-cat-too-many home and forever loves her husband.

She smooths red on her lips next to her fiery hair just for a little jaunt to the food market for just the right feline Fancy Feast.

She tidies her collared delicately- pleated blouse next to her polyester pleated pants falling on patent ballet flats and refuses my arm down the creaking stairs.

She cherishes the flowers and the boy who mows her lawn haphazardly and invites me to the couch to chat and searches for her keys in clutter.

She smiles and gives thanks heavenward for her health while she straightens her ump-teen orange pill bottles carefully on a filled rolling- tray and says God is good to me, Brooke. He is so good to me.

She says thank-you to me too much and asks me what she owes me for gas and fumbles with these three dollars and I say this is my pleasure and she opens the car window yet even more and says she feels the wind in her hair and throws her aging hand outside to taste the joy of the day.

She grins in some memory, I think, and then asks sweetly if I am getting too much air.

No, no, it’s fine, I like it, I think I’m just beginning to breathe, really. {smile}

She is gracious and sweet and has this story she’s lived and she shares some with me and my eyes are watering and I am listening to her…

And she overtakes me.

She overtakes me.

With her courage and perseverance.

I have known her for seven years… and I have never known her.

And we drove on this sunny day to a place neither of us really wanted to have to go.

********************************************************************************************************************

I had wakened that morning with a plan in my mind. All set before me, next to the coffee pot set to brew at exactly the right time, all lists diagrammed and noted and cited with a back up plan flagged with post-its marked with a sharpie. You know that kind of day?

And God said no. Just like that. And this is how it happened in this span of almost a minute:

Early in the morning after reading an email discussing a need, before I started anything on my list. He said no. That, your plan, is not what I have for you today. I have this instead.

It is almost like I could have ignored him, you know? Do you know how close I was to thinking I could? To disobey? I said, no, this is not for me, not today. And He said yes it is. And I tried not to call her and say yes I can. Yes, I will take you.

I tried to say no. To Him.

Did you read what I said? I tried to say no to Him. The reigning God of the universe.

Who am i?

Who AM I? He says.

And I called her. I said yes, of course I will. How are you this morning? I will come to you soon. See you soon.

I dress and say I can’t do this without You and He says You are Mine and I am weak and strong all at the same time. And I get in the car and drive to her and smile a hello. And she smiles grateful and I am humbled. In her presence. I am humbled in His presence in her.

***************************************************************************************************************************************

I see her each week with a polite hello and she tells me my children are nice and I tell her I like her brooch, which is true, and she says thank you God is good to me, Brooke and then I move on to the next person to say hello. Every week like that. In and out the door like that, when I’m not so invested. Sad truth.

That’s what I do EVERY week. I smooth my hair and glide on my gloss and step out in a skirt and shove the family into the car and spill my coffee and forget my bible and say hello to lots of people like that. EVERY week.

Let me tell you this: I am sick over it.

This woman I have been cordial to, week after week, month after month, avoided at times because I don’t have anything to say, this woman who loves Jesus and breathes out thanksgiving and finds joy, joy, in the darkest times,

this woman who sings her hymns and knows her God and carries her purse in the crook of her arm and asks for prayer and prays for others and adores chocolate ice cream,

but eats vanilla because her husband loves it and they can only afford one flavor at a time. So she loves vanilla now…. because she loves him.

And, The Lord… He used this lady I have sometimes essentially walked by, to teach me a lesson in His love.

In my brokenness and depravity, He let me see her like He does. Grace-gift.

And I am convicted and humbled and forever grateful.

And so we drove down the road and ended up there nervous and lagging and a bit scared because I don’t like places like this. I’ve seen too much when a body deteriorates and is sick and wasting away. Scared. That was me.

But not her.

She ended up there eager and thankful and smiling and combing her hair for him and waiting for me while I locked the car and admiring the flowers and knowing he’s not eating and hoping for the best and thanking God for this time and I am looking at her while her husband fades in this hospital bed and she orders him ice cream and I wait outside the door…

… just for a moment, so that I know she finds her seat, but instead she finds his hand and I hear him without seeing him and he has this joy in his feeble voice and her head is turned but I hear the smiling in her words and I think to wait until I know she’s settled, but they are talking about cats and the love they share and this C word  that doesn’t compare to the Love … and I go…

And I gently tell her when it’s time to leave and I say you haven’t eaten and she’s tired and I want to love her well, because He says so and because He is in me and I really do want to love her well,

And we are there to dive into our French fries because that is her favorite and mine are at my lips…. and this thing happens::::::: she breaks into praise after hours next to his bed and this sickness looming and her future unknown::::: she starts praying in thanksgiving…

and I forget to say thanks to Him?!?!

I forgot to say thanks. Not only did I forget, it didn’t cross. my. mind. I have food and my family is healthy and I am blessed beyond measure in a million little and big ways and this beautiful child of God is sitting next to me, hungry for food and hungry for her husband and she breaks out in prayer and thanksgiving for all of her blessings…

and I break inside myself and look at her. Amazed. She knows this God she claims. In the midst of it all, she is praising Him for His goodness to her.

::::::::::: No words for that.

I drive her to her door and hug her and say see you soon and she says she needs a little nap and I pray for her rest and she thanks me again.

I say I am the one who has been blessed today. I thank you, from the bottom of my heart for spending time with me today.

And I drive slow, with the windows all the way down and my aging hand out in the wind

…. and I am filled.

In the deepest part of myself, I was filled. Satiated and brimming with the gift of living in the Gospel and letting it change me. Change me for Him through this beautiful woman and her failing husband. And I want to do more.

That is what I want. I want Him to drive me away from comfort and love others the way He does. In all of my imperfection and pride, He let me be His hands and feet.

How can I thank Him for that enough?

Has the Lord as great delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices, as in obeying the voice of the Lord? Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice, and to listen than the fat of rams. +1 Samuel 15:22

 

 

thorns.

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So to keep me from becoming conceited… a thorn was given to me in the flesh… three times I pleaded with the Lord about this… but He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness”… Paul, in 1 Corinthians 12

Sometimes I wish it didn’t hurt so much.

But it does.

Some pain pressing in my flesh- jabbing.

The way I am walking in the thickets of the day and smelling the roses and lifting my head to the sunshine and piling up smooth pebbles like velvet to my fingers and lounging by the scent of the stream flowing and filling my basket-full with lovely loose daisies dripping…

until the thorn bites.

Sometimes it is out of nowhere- seen,

a flower in my hand and a song on my lips and a skip in my step and everything laced up– tied up and the world snug-warm and deep, held-near and grasped-dear… and then :::

ouch.

There it is, like stretching itself out for blood and aiming bullseye- perfect for my happy.

sleeping beneath the petals pink,

Like it belongs there.

Like a thorn that belongs on the growing stem of the otherwise most beautiful rose…

Sometimes… I think no, it doesn’t.

It doesn’t need to be .right. there… on that rose, that I am picking to admire and place with my other prize-winning pretty petals.

Because that stings. That surprises. That just does not feel good.

Please, Lord, take it? Take my thorn?

And then:::: I think::::

Maybe it does. Maybe it does need to be.right.there.

But, that is where He has allowed it to be.

…to know and to believe the love that God has for us… +1 John 4

He created all things.

All things. The things we can touch and feel.

The things we cannot.

He is sovereign over everything. Every

::::thing.

He thought about the stem of the rose.

He made these things. All things…

For a purpose.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: But. It hurts.

Hurts.

When there is a barb pointed-irritating where I don’t expect:::

:::just when all is well and I just plain don’t want that.thorn.there.

But of course it does fit right there.

He has allowed it there. And that.

:::::::::::: is enough.

for me.

Because all is His.

All of it. His.

Even the thorns climbing, side-stepping of the stalk to lead to the right-resplendent rose.

At the pinnacle.

I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. +1 Tim. 4

And the…

Thorns.

They are His, too.

Roses. They are sweet to the taste, sweet to the eye, sweet to the smell…

Everyone wants one.

And that is what the thorn grows for.

Not to harm the rose.

But,

To protect it.

Safeguard and preserve. Cover and keep. Shield and shelter.

from loss.

from iniquity.

From harm.

This thorn.

this piercing blood…

His blood.

covers me.

Perhaps, the thorn, the thing I might dread…

keeps me.

Let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus… +Heb. 12 

Perhaps it just keeps me…

Close to Him.

For when I am weak, I am strong.  +1 Corinthians 12

I said: Breathe.

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Thus says God, the Lord, who created the heavens and stretched them out, who spread out the earth and what comes from it, who gives breath to the people on it and spirit to those who walk in it: “I am the Lord; I have called you in righteousness; I will take you by the hand and keep you…”  Isaiah 42 (emphasis mine)

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I breathe slow and snagged.

::::::::::::::::::Sometimes.

Because I am caught up.

and netted- fast

and stuck- constrained.

Snared somehow.

::::::::::::::::Sometimes.

By duty and schedule and guilt and should-be’s and too many yes’s and not enough no’s and not waking with His name on my lips and this to do and that to accomplish and good deeds and this flesh and that mop and this dust and fun and summer and planning this and finding the keys and technology and calendar and my sin and the pull of the world and the …… blah. blah. blah.

I realized this two days ago

in the car

that I wasn’t breathing.

Not filling.

Not satiating.

Not complete.

Not brimming to overflowing.

… You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows… +Psalm 23

More shallow and wanting.

I looked at myself in the rearview and glimpsed my little reminder that days are passing. That silver strand at my temple. Tempted to pull it out.

::::::::::::::Shallow, too. In a different sense.

Some weeks, they slip by unseen and I forget to breathe them in.

… So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom… +Psalm 90

It is easy to forget to breathe.

I said to myself with “Give God the Glory Glory” pouring out of the speakers and out of my backseat buckled-in smiles:::: “Give God the glory, glory….”

I said: breathe.

Like I had to remind myself. Who reminds themselves to breathe????

I did. And I even tried to take a deep breath and my too-tight, white-knuckled chest wouldn’t give me up.

I couldn’t fill myself deep and full and saturated and content.

I couldn’t do it.

So my breath came shorter and held out longer.

                            :::::::::::::::::::::::Without air.

It occurs to me amidst the hymns swirling and little ones counting buttercups along the road and my grocery list flying off the seat in the rolled down windows::::

:::::: This is a gift.

This whole 35 seconds of depthless breathing and that gray hair and this moment right now when I have to depend on Someone else for one of the most natural, rote, practiced, life-giving, filling up and out-flowing actions we do all 86,400 seconds of our day.

And that I cannot do it on my own. Praise God.

No, I cannot even breathe on.my.own.

Lord, Creator of my very breath: Can You help me breathe?

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::Because I cannot count on myself for even that.

(thank You.)

And that realization:::

That I cannot trust myself, but instead I can trust the mighty and sovereign God of the universe for the tiniest invisible thing is a beautiful blessing.

and I can count on Him right now.

That He commands even my evanescent breath to pour forth from these lungs that He created::: even at this very moment…

that is a grace-saturated gift from Him, to me.

O Lord of hosts, blessed is the one who trusts in You! +Psalm 84

I can trust Him.

I can trust. Him.

If in the very small and sightless, then also in the very big.

Not only because His Word tells me so, but because He shows me so.

He goes before me.

He helps me breathe.

When I forget how, He shows me again. and again. and again.

::::::::::::::::::::::::: give God the glory, glory…..

He breathed life into me.

How can I ever forget that?

…then the Lord God formed the man of dust from the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life and the man became a living creature… +Genesis 2:7

plucked.

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I said to him:::: it’s like I’m being plucked.

Does that make sense, I asked.

Like the Lord is plucking things from my life, I said. And I don’t know how I feel about it.

                                          +the wings… wave proudly… but are they… the plumage of love? +Job 39

Like I have these feathers plucked-bare:::

Until it’s just me.

bare and::::

::::: and feeling kind of… more…. aware.

too.aware.of.my.skin.

I can’t say I like it, I said.

::::::::::::::::Smug:: yet, with thanks driven deep in the secret heart-place.

I know what this is. He spoke it in my innermost after I chewed too-chattery on the issue for a few days. I didn’t like it at first.

And I said to Him::: if this is what You are doing, I don’t know if I can bear this well. If I can feel open and vulnerable like this and find joy in this. I want You to know that.

                  :::::::::::::::Plucked.

These feathers of mine:::::

This one. Oh, this one. I liked this one. That one. Oh, please, that one just seems right… right? And then there goes that one, too.

Until it’s just me…..

:::::::::::::::::::::::::: smiling, weak… at a strong Him.

Feathers I preened-pretty and covered down-comfort and strutted peacock-iridescent. Shining.

:::::::::: shining? really?

Plucked.

Pulled slow and fast and flesh-pulling-resistant::::

:::::::::::::: oh, the flesh.

My heart break-beating::: fretful-fainting::::: oh-please-no.oh-please-no.oh-please-no.

He didn’t say it wouldn’t hurt.

He didn’t say it wouldn’t sting.

He didn’t say it wouldn’t burn.

+Beloved, do not be surprised when a fiery trial it comes upon you to test you… +1 Peter 4

::::::::::::::::::: Oh, Father, I feel it in my weary bones. Take it.

Take it.

::::::::::::::::;Stand-up bold in Him.

Because if He is the Taker, then I bow-down thankful.

Take it.

Take it. Because I pray my heart beats for You.

Take it. Because Your heart beats for me.

(the joy in even that alone!)

Take it. Because I am nothing and You are everything.

And my heart beats yes-please.yes-please.yes-please.

:::::::::::::: and I have this one wisp of a life. Take it.

                                         +Surely all mankind stands as a breath before you… +Psalm 39

And, I walk bare right now. I am walking struck-open and sometimes wondering in my wandering, because I feel unsure and confident ::::::: simultaneously.

Confident in Him.

            +In the fear of the Lord, one has strong confidence and His children will have a refuge. +Proverbs 14

::::::::::::::::::: A promise He made.

And so He plucks,

so to dress me one day in purest white,

feathered and nestled under His wings:::: right- now and forever-close.

                                     +He will cover you with His feathers. He will shelter you with His wings. +Psalm 91

Because when I am bare and broken and plucked:::: He hides me in Himself.

Every feather plucked bears me closer to Him.

Every plume picked reveals His grace on me.

:::::::::::::::::: thank You, thank You, Lord.

He plucked me from the pit before time began.

And now, He plucks these feathers.IMG_1492

The ones that do not bring me closer to Him::::

for the divine purpose of bringing me closer to Him.

Lord, the One who gives and gives and gives, not that You need my permission, but pluck away…

So I can fly……………….

This is the Lord’s doing… Let us rejoice and be glad in it… Psalm 118

These photos.

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Photos lately.

So many of them.

Things keep surprising me and I keep the camera close.

The sky with the passing cloud. The cloud heavy with the rain. The rain dripping on the leaf. The leaf attached to the stem. The stem holding the flower. The flower grabbed by the boy. The boy chasing his sister. His sister smiling at the father. And the father looking at the wife. And the wife wanting to inhale all the thanks and exhale the joy.Deep.Wide.and lovely.

::::::::::::::: even on the hard days. yes.

And all of these pictures seem silly. Like go do something else more worth- it. Like go wash a dish. Like go read a book. Like go hang a towel. Like go fold a towel.

What have I been doing? Taking a picture of that towel instead.

And then thanking God for it.

:::::::::::::::::::Yes, even for the towel.

How He picked the dots silver on the moth wing and how He breathed breeze on the dawn grass glittered swaying with dew and how He furled the fern on the stream running sweet ripples and how He placed each curly hair on his little head so they drip on his brow just right and how He created her smile making her lashes dance and how He gave me

this husband:::

The husband who meets my am-I-taking-too-many-pictures-here look and steals away my camera while I cook

::::::and picks me a rose just bloomed today because I love the vintage smell I cannot explain: just feels like home:

:and he kisses my cheek and unveils the camera from his shirt::::

:::: a picture-kiss of this rosebud:::

:: because he knows I wonder:::

::::if I take too much time with the joy-thanks magnified?

::: thanks kept fresh by the shutter closing still on the moment.

And he showed me his photo.

his gift to me tonight.

::::::::::::: His gift to me…………..

To settle me. Pete’s I-like-that-you-like-this-picture-thing-I-think-it’s-pretty-great- offering of love to me.

Because among our laughter at a song off-key and our chasing around with the hose and the planting of the pretty flowers not all moments are perfect. Like any day. And we had a sharp glance when we misunderstood and we had a word when we were sweating in the sun with rakes and wheelbarrows and kids buzzing and bugs buzzing and needing a fresh drink of water.

                      ::::::::::::::::::::of living water.

That Living Water that spilled over the soil and breathed life into the plants and the animals and streams and clouds, the roses, too::::

All exhaling praise to He who swept sedges across the marshes, He who filled glens with violets and valleys with rivers, He who breathed life into mountains groan-rising out of earth, He who fanned wind across the desert:::::

He who gifted this all-to-His-glory Earth to us to enjoy and savor and taste and see and breathe

:::::::::::::::::::::::: thankful praise out in all things.

And when I take these pictures::::

When I see His love amplified deep in the raindrop dripping praise to Him,

I cannot help but take another.

:::: and when a day gets long and a cloud comes dark,

I can see the love He intends for us when I look through this lense::: this lense of thanksgiving.

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Creation was made for this! Drench the plowed fields, soak the dirt clods With rainfall as harrow and rake bring her to blossom and fruit. Snow-crown the peaks with splendor, scatter rose petals down your paths, All through the wild meadows, rose petals. Set the hills to dancing, Dress the canyon walls with live sheep, a drape of flax across the valleys. Let them shout, and shout, and shout! Oh, oh, let them sing!

Psalm 65 MSG (biblegateway)

Rest in the hallway

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The thought lodged in my heart in my strong place this morning.

Today, my strong place came in the middle of my dim hallway, lugging a load of laundry, being followed by a boy dressed as a knight in Narnia looking for Aslan and a cat-lion nipping at my heels waiting to be fed.

My strong place.

When I see clearly, like it is the first time I open my eyes and breath in light and catch my deep breath.

A strong place arrives in the clarity of Him.

Strong strength.

His strong strength that swallows me in love while simultaneously swallowing my fear like it has no place to nestle in His arms anywhere near me.

Because His arms are enough and His roar diminishes worry and His sheep fall down grazing on His grace and glorifying His mighty-King name.

Where does worry have room there?

:::::::::::::::::::::::::: the beauty of His mercy on us.

… weep no more; behold, the Lion… has conquered… +Revelation 5:5

It came to me in that hallway, while waiting to open the next door to rid myself of the heavy load of…

:::::: laundry?

The thought, so simple, so piercing, so stopping and peace-filling:::

I have what I need for right now.

In this place. In the hallway. While I wait. While I open doors. While I close doors. While I breathe.

I have what I need for right now.

Because He says so.

Simply:::

because He says so.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::if I believe… In my strong place and in my weak place and in my hallways.

The name of the Lord is a strong tower; the righteous man runs into it and is safe. +Proverbs 18:10

Today, I have what I need.

Today, the world spins and distractions slobber ugly teeth before my eyes

and in my ears

and through my mind…

And I breathe shallow and I break slow…

Until I break :::::::on my knees

and I whisper-exhale::: Yahweh.

Strong strength in a name like that One.

Yahweh-shammah: “God is there.”                            (+Ezekiel 48:35)

God is there.

In my moment right now.

In my yesterday.

In my tomorrow.

In my

Forever.

And I rest.

In knowing. In the believing?

::::::yes, in the believing.

The Lamb slain for us.

::::::::::::::::::::::: deepest love.

The Lion who conquered.

:::::::::::::::::::::::: fiercest love.

A worship-whisper that spills us free:

Yahweh-shammah.

Rest.

He is already there.

One year ago this week.

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I taught at a beautiful school next to a lake, the native word for lake: kuspem… where on most days I watched the latter part of the sun rise over the water. 
 
In the Fall, as school was just beginning, I could peer down at the blue of the water and up at the blue of the sky and see the trees dotted with reds and oranges as the rays broke over a new morning. 
 
In the Winter, it would be common to see a moose or a deer walking on the ice as a yellow glow sparkled over the snow rising from behind the hill and filling the day with His beauty.
 
In the Spring, as the Winter broke its hold on the Point, the mist would rise dramatically and forcefully off the water and ice like a prism and the shining pink and orange of the sun would bounce and reflect and take my breath away.
 
As Spring turned to Summer-like weather, the loons would sing a Morning Has Broken song and I would drive by the fisherman on the lake– all the while anticipating the end of the school year thinking of my babies at home and ice cream and flip flops and swimming… things I knew were just around the corner, until I ventured back to this place on the lake and the bright eyes of my students…
 
And then there was yesterday.
 
Yesterday. When I drove my last day down the school lane and I, for a moment felt broken and weak in myself as I stopped next to the glory of the sun as it peeked over the water– sprinkled with glittery light on a calm day that felt tumultuous in me.
 
As the Lord gave me another sunrise to enjoy on my last day of thirteen years at Motahkmiqewi Skulhawossol…
 
 …and on my first day of new beginnings.
 
I wept.
 
Not uncommon for me these days as I grieve closing this chapter and stepping into the unknown as I turn the page on what He has for me.
 
I said to them,
as they served me cake,
gave me a beautiful sweetgrass basket,
hugged me,
served me lobster in the evening,
 
sang “You Are My Sunshine” to me, so silly and loving,
 
but so wonderfully blessed I felt…
 
I said to them,
through my tears, as I told them thank you for this moment of many years:
 
“This. 
This is who I was, you all know.
I was this,
Before I was a wife to my Love,
Before I was a mother to my Little Loves,
 
I was this.
A teacher to your children.
I have been blessed.”
 
And I sat down and they hugged and spoke friend-love words in my ear.
 
And I was by myself at the end of it, carrying my last box and closing the trunk and He who carries me spoke His soft, powerful, voice in my ear, too.
 
Because I yearn, I pray, I desire to listen to that Voice:
 
He said::
 
“Listen to Me.  Before all of this.
 
You were a child of MINE.”
 
:::::::::::smile.
Thank You, Father.
:::::::::I am Yours. Lead on.

Finding where I’m Founded.

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… that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on the rock. +Matthew 7:24

Everything can move.

all over the place, if that’s the way it should be.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: if that’s what He wants.

This part over here and this thing finally over with…

while this thing gets started and this little bit that was over here…

can be moved right over there.

Every last piece of it all…

Just

Jumble around.

Upside down and back again.

Back and forth.

Something new.

Something old that is new again.

Move around.

All of the stuff.

the jobs.

the people.

the things.

the opinions.

the weights.

the day and the night.

the glad and the sorrow.

the open and the closed.

the here now, the gone tomorrow.

One step up.

One step down.

This thing before that thing

that happened to be first before.

and now it is not.

Something  in place and cozy for a long time.

Uprooted and planted somewhere else.

Where it grows stronger now.

Or put where it was always supposed to be and

….find it just took awhile to move there.

It can all shift around.

A little risk, a little trust, all bundled up and tried out tied up…

packaged sweetly in belief.

belief.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::aye, there’s the rub

                                 I believe! Help my unbelief! +Mark 9:24.

It all can move, walk around and breathe somewhere else.

Where it was supposed to be anyway

but maybe a little out of place…

….when I was busy building my own…

…my own…

…kingdom…

When I could have been standing on the Rock just letting Him align all my little pebbles in my row.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::His row.

Don’t you breathe easier when things are in their rightful place?

Me too.

Oh, but the thing that cannot move.

That WILL NOT move.

:::::::::::::::::::thankful.

The thing that is sure and life-filled and breathing and vibrant and close and kept-solid and never breaks in the wind and does not dry and wither and sticks- immoveable and boasts- constant and fills up and pours out and never depletes.

That sure thing.

Sure.

Built.

Built sure.

Built up sure.

On a foundation.

On the Foundation.

                                But God’s firm foundation stands… +2 Timothy 2:19a

somewhere founded.

established and true.

And true…

True.

The One true.

Everything can shift and bend and find-new and lose-old and move and change and journey away…

and run back…

:::::::prodigal.

to a living, breathing-sure thing that fills up and cannot help but pour out…

…this life…

founded…

on the Rock.

The unchangeable.

The immoveable.

The mighty.

The steady.

Let it all change.

Let it reform and temper and sway and evolve and transform and diverge and diversify…

All of it.

All of it can change.

all of it.

It’s all for the good.

Founded.

On the Rock.

of Ages.

….cleft for me,

let me hide myself in Thee….

It’s all good.

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At the end of forty days, Noah opened the window of the ark he had made… +Genesis 8

Washing the windows.

So I can see better.

Filthy.

                     they can get.

Grimy.

Cobwebby.

                               and sticky.

That film that lingers after a long Winter.

Stuck in the corners and glued to the pockets and edges.

Gets a little elusive sometimes… trying to get it all cleaned up glistening.

Getting the gunk out of the recesses.

Sometimes the looking out is hard.

Walking around, peering, like there’s got to be a clean spot to see straight through to the beauty out there.

Somewhere.

That’s what it’s like sometimes from where I am on this side of the glass, anyway.

Sometimes the view gets hard to see through the dirt I’ve got cloudy on my pane.

                                         :::::::::: my pain.

There are daffodils out there beyond it all.

The lilac that hasn’t bloomed yet?

It’s going to.

::::::: And the bleeding heart.

                   :::::::::::::::::: Growing.

The grass is growing and the leaves are spinning on the trees.

The morning was misty, but the sun broke through just in time.

Time to clean the windows

                                              :::: wash away the soot…

and squeak them sparkling clear.

                   :::: after all, it’s springing time.

Sometimes it just seems easier to stay on the inside, where it’s comfortable and familiar.

                                               :::::: but not good for me.

                  ::::::::::: but all will end up for my good.

                                                                  ::::oh, the rest in that.

But don’t those window- glasses get dirty, like you can’t take throwing up the sash one more time…

Because it’s hard and life is hard and choices are hard and the past: that’s just hard sometimes.

Things get a little dimmer with the dust.

and a little blurry with the dirt that’s stuck-fast and hard to wipe away.

And right before the window-wiping dries clear and gleaming, there’s that moment of the most fogging up.

When the cleansing-  soap is sprayed and for a second you can’t see out at all.

Sometimes the toughest.

And there is no choice.

Wash clean.

The windows.

Washed clean.

                                  :::::::::::::: glowing in the sun….

                                                                                     …. in the Son….

And the dirt is for my good.

And the dig-down-deep faith is for my good.

And the waiting for the windows to clear up is for my good.

And the patience is for my good.

And the timing is for my good.

And the cleaning?

Oh, for my good.

And the peering out to what is waiting for me?

heavenly.

And what is it all for?

Every-thing?

For

His glory.

Washed radiant.

Time to throw open the windows and breathe in the freshest air.

I will give thanks to Your name, O Lord, for it is good. +Psalm 54