Storm

Our roses weathering Wednesday's storms

“Lord, don’t You care that I’m drowning?
If one more wave breaks against my little boat,
Surely I cannot survive.”

Wind and waves,
Fulfilling His word.
Shipwreck.

“Lord, how can I live through another blow?
At Your word these trials must cease.
Have mercy; hear my cry.”

His touch on my hip, my strength, my health.
Pinned flat.  Nowhere to look
But at Him.

“Master, how can I serve You like this?
Unless You withdraw Your hand, I must perish.
Have mercy; hear my cry.”

Heard at last:
It is that “I” whose death I fear,
Not the storms at sea,
Which causes pain. 
Yet only after death
Does resurrection come.

“I will not let Thee go
Until Thou bless me.”

A piece from the Rose Garden Gazette archives, 2001-2002

Blessing the Boundaries, Part 6: "Stay"

This post concludes a series on accepting our circumstances.  For the previous posts in the series, please see the following links:

Part 1: Pleasant boundaries

Part 2: What part of "no"...?

Part 3:  When You answer "no"

Part 4: The gift of thorns

Part 5: How Happy We Would Be

"Stay" was one of the first commands we taught our current dog, Ebony.  We employ it in a range of applications.  For fun, we have him stay in an assigned spot while we leave his field of vision and hide a favorite toy for him to track; this is our family version of hide-and-seek.  More importantly, this command can keep him out of harm's way, out of the driveway as a car approaches or out of the kitchen when a glass has broken or something toxic to him has spilled.  Sometimes, we use it for something simply necessary, to communicate that he has to stay with the pet guardian at the kennel and not follow his desires out the door to the car with us.  He doesn't need to understand or know the reason; his responsibility is to obey until we release him to go elsewhere.

My dogs have taught me a lot about myself and my relationship with God.  This instance is no different.  I, too, need to learn to stay when instructed, whether or not the reason makes sense to me.  The temptation when the mundane continues long and monotonous without respite or when circumstances grow uncomfortable is to seek escape and diversion.  My husband likes to quote an ancient Christian proverb in such cases:  "Go, stay inside your cell, and your cell will teach you all things."  In its original context, the exhortation called monks to seek the solitude of their monastic cells instead of society and activity with each other, to find interior quiet through exterior quiet.  Might it not equally apply to accepting the situation Providence has assigned us?  To obeying the command, "Stay," with a glad and pliable heart?

That command was given me clearly through my doctor this summer, with instructions to stay in my house and rest.  The orders defining my cell were clear, but throughout I faced the choice of perspective.  Would I view my living room today as a prison cell or a monastic cell where God met with me?  Was this house arrest or a house party?  Some days were more challenging than others, and the cell defined by four literal walls proved less frustrating for me, actually, than the walls of pain and weakness shutting me up with myself and my sins.

My youth minister used to say, "Wherever you go, there you are," and there's the rub.  Staying in my cell stripped away the distractions and sin-management techniques that usually enable me to avoid looking too closely at some of the ugly aspects of self waiting for transformation, the places where I had unconsciously said, "Not Christ, but I."  My Master showed me my resistance to receiving without reciprocation, which is really pride; my persistent control-freak tendencies (pride, again, and fear); and that what I thought was acceptance of chronic illness was really the absence of threat to my "Isaacs."

The teaching hasn't all been ugly, though.  Through staying in my cell, I have also been learning that my family still loves and cares for me when I'm not producing and contributing; that I can trust God to meet my loved ones' needs without my help; and that the right the only the best my personal approach to household tasks did not come down from Sinai on stone tablets.  The examples of the Lord's work and power transcending physical confinement in other lives also encouraged me: Paul in prison, John on Patmos, Amy Carmichael confined to bed for decades of her service in India, Gitzen Girl in the present day.  I am learning, I think, to embrace what I can do rather than focus on what I can't.  The elimination of some choices and responsibilities has left me more free to write notes of encouragement, spend time with my mom as she helps, and offer a listening ear.

The command comes differently to each of us.  Whether our cell is a sickbed, a cubicle, a prison cell, a difficult relationship, or a noisy household, may the Lord grant us peace, joy, and the grace to recognize in these boundaries the best possible teachers to conform us to the image of Christ.  May we resist the urge to seek change when it's not God's leading but only our attempt to escape from the discomfort of growth.  May we learn to recognize, heed, and even welcome the Master's voice calling, "Stay,"  knowing He is in the cell with us.

For further exploration of the boundaries idea:  My poem "Contentment" is available in the archives of Communique Journal.

Glimpses of Gratitude 3

Today is Labor Day in the United States.  It is a welcome three-day weekend for us and a chance for teachers to take a breath after the first leg of the new school year.  Let it also serve as a blessed reminder to thank God for the often invisible laborers whose service supports and sustains our lives and comforts.

Personally, I am so very thankful to my Father for

• kind, helpful nurses, lab techs, and pharmacists
• sanitation workers
• road maintenance crews
• mail carriers, UPS delivery, and all the other people who enable me to shop from home
• our vet and the good folks at the kennel who take care of our dog when we need to travel
• grocery employees of all stripes
• gas station attendants and mechanics
• baristas
• cleaning professionals
• airline staff and pilots
• educators, librarians, and their support staff
• government workers, from the parks and recreation team that maintain our favorite park to the utilities workers to the city, state, and federal elected officials
• the many, many folks involved in food growth, transport, preparation, sales, and service
• those who do hard, physical labor in the seldom-hospitable outdoors maintaining homes, public buildings, and landscapes
• the global network of information technology professionals who facilitate communication with distant loved ones, banking and trade, learning, worship for those unable to attend a physical gathering, and so many other things I'm not even aware of
• and those who put themselves in harm's way to protect the rest of us: the police, fire departments, paramedics, and armed forces

As long as the list seems, there are many omissions.  Please chime in through the comments with your own thanksgivings I've overlooked.  Oh, and if you're counting, these would be #684-699.

Blessing the Boundaries, Part 5

How Happy We Would Be!

    Once there was a little Johnny Jump-up with a gold and violet face.  All day long he hung his head and sighed, “Oh me, oh my.  Oh my, oh me.  If only I were tall and elegant like the rose, how happy I would be!”
    On a trellis nearby grew a tall, slender climbing rose with petals like the flush of a baby’s cheek.  All day long she hung her head and sighed, “Oh me, oh my.  Oh my, oh me.  If only I were strong and useful like the apple tree, how happy I would be.”
    Overhead arched the strong limbs of the apple tree, laden with sweet red fruit.  All day long he drooped his branches and sighed, “Oh me, oh my.  Oh my, oh me.  If only I had a cozy nest and a family to love like the robin, how happy I would be.”
    In its branches lived a little robin redbreast, hovering over her nest of speckled blue eggs.  All day long she hung her head and sighed, “Oh me, oh my.  Oh my, oh me.  If only I were free to soar into the sky like the eagle, how happy I would be.”
    Aloft soared the eagle, alone and splendid.  All day long he hung his head and sighed, “Oh me, oh my.  Oh my, oh me.  If only I could fly into heaven itself like the angels, how happy I would be.”
    In the heavens themselves, the angels went about serving God and His children among men.  One sad angel hung his head and sighed, “Oh me, oh my.  Oh my, oh me.  If only I could reign like God, with all things serving me, how happy I would be!”

    “O foolish, rebel creature!” said God.  “There is no God but Me.  Away with you into the outer darkness!”
    “As for you, silly eagle, “said the Lord, “If you flew into heaven, who would show the new strength I promise and the heights to which I call My people?”
    “As for you, little robin,” said the Lord, “If you soared like the eagle, who would show forth My tender care and provision for the smallest of My creatures?”
    “As for you, mighty tree,” said the Lord, “If you nested and nurtured like the robin, who would bring forth sweet fruit for the strength and joy of My people?”
    “As for you, precious rose,” said the Lord, “If you grew tall and thick like the apple tree, who would show the world both the beauty and the pain of life in this sinful world?”
    “As for you, tiny flower,” said the Lord, “If you were tall and elegant like the rose, who would make men smile and forget their worries in the beauty I lavish on the very ground they tread?”
    “O foolish creatures!  If you would only stop fretting over what you are not and enter into My joy in making you as you are, how happy you would be!”

A Poem on Intercession

Weary, yet Pursuing
(from Judges 8:4, 4/16/2007)

No shield-maiden of Rohan am I;
No Jael among the tents;
No Queen Suriyothai charging on elephant’s back—

Never did I plead to bear arms
And plunge into the fray
Alongside the warriors.

How much more content
To support the troops from home—
Knitting socks,
Writing letters,
Baking encouragement for care packages.

But when dark princes strike at
My beloved ones,
How can I remain safe
In the castle’s keep?

Now, though, the battle rages on too long.
My arms have long since tired
Of bearing shield and sword.
Send some relief to fight for me
Or strengthen drooping arms,
Lest others fall
Through my failure.

If you are fighting the hard, discouraging fight of intercession today and growing faint with the prolonged effort, may the Lord strengthen your hands to keep pursuing His glory despite your weariness.  As He did with Moses, may He send you an Aaron and Hur to hold up your arms till the battle is won.