Listen, Listen my World Weary Spirit

I love pictures of paths - as you might guess from the name of my blog - Pathway to Peace.  This picture of a winter path is a visualization of my walk right now.  It's a picture of the stuff of the season closing in on me after a fall of not feeling well.  I'm better, but the evil one still uses my feelings of panic from so many years of wondering if my energy would hold out while battling chronic illness that is thankfully only chronic but seldom acute - years of fibromyalgia, and now Epstein-Barre numbers that signify a low-end infection of mono.

I noticed that I wrote on the Christmas season and the New Year back in 2010 when I first started blogging.  I invite you to go back and use those as devotionals during this season - as these were seasons where God seemed to share something with me that felt noteworthy enough to share with others.   And though I go through seasons of doing where I don't write much, it seems that God always gives me an altar-experience just when I wonder if I'll ever have one again - like those of the Israelites when God showed up and they built an altar to recognize His provision.   And when I'm allowed one of those - where you just feel like God has spoken - (how do I explain this, except to those of you that know what I mean?)  I always feel the need to record it, because I know how fleeting it can seem - AND how easily I forget what I've "heard".

Just this morning I had a tiny return glimpse of a morning I had a week or so ago when God just showed up in my quiet time.  It was a morning where I was reflecting on the low-level anxiety and malaise that comes when my mono numbers go up - and reveling that I was beginning to come out of that state again.  I sat in the dark right before dawn asking God what I needed to have learned from that dark season of fall where I just went through the  motions of life, feeling little joy and having seemingly no revelations in response to my prayers.

I was inspired to write a poem that day, something I haven't done much of in the past season of busyness -  life-coaching private and Love Inc clients, and Stephen's ministry and teaching Children's Lit at the junior college, and facilitating a bible study.  It was a poem that just reminded me to LISTEN - to wait for a thought bubble that seems unusual - not a normal thought pattern.  Or to wait for a minute vacation - a moment to thank God for the abilily to feel joy in a moment, maybe even in a sunbeam or a  tree-lined lane in the fall, or a cozy cloudy day that I can be at home, or even a made bed and a bedroom that is in order, a sanctuary at the end of a day.

I noticed after this fall of low-level blahness - not having the energy to do much besides get through my days (which I should be thankful that I could still do!!!)  that I had lost my joy.  But there was one day  I came out of my closet and looked at my made bed and the pretty bedroom I get to retire to at the end of the day and thanks for that moment welled up within me.  What is this unaccustomed feeling?  Joy!   It seemed so long since I had recognized beauty.

And today, when driving to class, realizing I needed some caffeine to get into the morning, it might have been the caffeine -  but I saw a truck on the outer road of the highway that just looked like it was driving in a postcard scene, that made me think of God and thank Him for that momentary glimpse of beauty.  I turned off the radio spouting political insights, and let thoughts of my Savior replace my world weariness.

This led my thoughts to the choir special we used to sing and that included that term: world- weariness. That song spoke to me the first time I heard it years ago and I still use it  to get into my quiet time, especially on walks.  I share it with you now, and though you may not be familiar with the tune, I invite you to really listen to the words.  I think the title is True Contentment,

Listen, Listen my world weary spirit,
A voice midst the clamor is calling low.
How sweet the whisper of my dear Savior.
His word calms my worries,
His life makes me whole.

Let go, let go, my earth-bound spirit.
The One who is wiser is calling low,
His wisdom is higher than my finite reason.
Faithfully follow and you will not fall.

The world is shouting for my affection,
With promise of pleasure
And treasures of gold.
Yet still my heart knows that true contentment
Is only by trusting and resting of soul.

Wisdom and strength grant to me Holy Spirit,
To walk in this kingdom but not call it home.
For here I have no lasting treasure.
I journey to heaven where I'm fully known.

And so I also share what came to me another morning this fallwhen after a long season of silence, where the warm sun turned into cooler days and the leaves fell off the trees and my energy seemed to fade with them, I "heard" God again, just as I did this morning telling me I could find joy  - even though it was one of those mornings that needed a God-start as well as a caffeine jolt.  This is the same message that has been stirring my heart through the pages of John Eldredge's book Walking with God which I highly recommend and which had to be a God-incidence - no coincidence - that that book came into my hands just at the right time to help me come out of this past season of cloudy fall-like slowness.

What came was  reminder to LISTEN, that as I am less productive as the years continue to slow me, that I should not find discomfort in that, but rest in the opportunity to listen more.

Listen,...His voice can creep slowly into your consciousness
    as imperceptively as the dawn creeps  over the darkness.
Imperceptively...Your whisper comes...I must slow to catch it, 
   strain in silence to hear.
Silence is suddenly replaced with a flutter in my heart - 
   a word from Him -  a new perception.
Thoughts form into an impression that gels and 
     I must pause to catch it and translate it into words. 
     It is not from my mind.  It is unique - a transformed thought -
     a renewing of my mind.
Enlightenment and Encouragement come as I recognize Your voice.  
     No, this is not from me. I cannot force or expect when You will speak.  
     There are days and seasons I must wait on You to speak -
     when I must rely on the written Word You have given to all Your children - 
     that I must  renew and write on my heart diligently 
     as You reveal new and deeper meaning for each new day. 
     And I must write these personal revelations - 
     capture them before my heart and life go on without them.
Now - now, I must take these insights from You and Your marching orders
     and step back into my life, step by step, living and serving AND listening.  
     Listening and waiting and praising and thanking. 

Our Father's Hand

I'm convinced that everyone needs their Mary times. Those are times beyond the daily bread of quiet time or even extended times of retreat or study - stolen times to just sit at the feet of Jesus in awe of  the overwhelming, enveloping peace that passes understanding. The peace that is only found there.

I had one of those moments sitting on the rocks of Johnson Shut-Ins - an amazing rock formation on the Black River in Missouri that allows small waterfalls and pools to occur in the course of about a quarter mile.

The above picture isn't me, but it is a similar perch to what I had recently,  My daughter and family were picking their way downstream, crawling over rocks and sliding down small waterfalls.  I had found a perfect smooth rock from which to watch their progress.  And then - almost freeze-framed - I watched in between the large boulders where my 6 year old grandson strained to reach over a small but turbulent rapid to reach his father's outstretched hand.

And there it happened - a flash of insight - one of those a-ha moments where life makes sense if only for a moment.  In a flash, the simple picture that we can navigate this life with its torrents and rapids to the next safe foothold our Heavenly Father extends us, suddenly became clear.  I watched the same scenario of hundreds of state-park revelers in small groups helping one another make their way amongst the rocks.  And it occured to me that this is the answer to the ills of society: if each one would just help one, then the issues of taxes and welfare, broken homes producing broken children, and terrorism and immigration, Black Lives Matter, and locked congresses would find answers in compromise and extended mercy. Oversimplied - maybe- but a target to aim for nevertheless.  If we would just be ready to extend a hand in fellowship, give an ear to listening even to an opposing view, maybe we would see glimpses of solutions clouded by our own perspective that we are completely right.

Then I lifted my eyes downsteam to the glassy pond where the surging water fell to smoothness after leaving the detours and valleys of the rocks.  I looked up and onto the rock cliffs, the green foilage of the surrounding trees which met blue sky as a background for flying birds and white clouds.  I was overcome in that moment with God's glory displayed in creation where all the craziness of the world faded into the background of that beauty.

How many times do I not slow down to capture these Mary moments not only in my inconsistent blog?  Moreover, how many times do I miss them completely in my hurried life, running around doing Martha tasks?

I know there are different seasons and times of day for serving and resting.  For me, there are different blocks of time for writing, for being a grandma, for fellowship.  There are seasons of leaving on vacation, and seasons of routine at home, times of busyness and times for quiet and rest.

But there is always time to squeeze in a Mary moment by just taking a break to stop the motion of life to look at God's creation - whether it be a tree or sunset, be it summer or winter or fall.  There is always time to take a moment - to sit at His feet and feel the peace that He and only He brings.

Sitting at His Feet

Sitting at His feet I get a glimpse 
Of what the Mary in the gospel felt
When she let the world fade away 
    from her conscious
And simply at His feet she knelt.

Not succumbing to the pressure
Of what Martha and the world may expect,
But prioritizing the moment 
She had with our Lord to connect.

Maybe it was just a few moments
Or maybe the luxury of more,
But she knew the importance of resting
And take advantage of the offered rapport...

When she could drink in the peace of His Presence
By putting all else aside.
She looked beyond the moment
And stopped all else to abide.

In this world where peace is so hidden,
Where hatred and slander prevail,
Let us find Him our oasis of wisdom
So that our lives will tell the tale...

That we've got something special
   residing within us,
Something the world may not understand.
We've got the Spirit of Love to guide
But only if we hold on to His hand.