On This Path

Wildflowers spread madly, adorning my soul. I will burst! The joy is almost more than I can bear. Surprise was there all along, waiting on the edges; now it is revealed. Gratitude spills like rain. On this path of puzzles, I will trust the hand of God. My Savior gently beckons to guide me on my way.

Shape Me

If succombing makes me more like you...
...allow me to be your clay;

If trusting more reveals your light...
...allow me to be your day;

If bending to your will brings strength...
...allow me to be your reed;

If dying brings forth shoots of life...
...allow me to be your seed.

The Sweet Delicacy of God

I am a feather on the breath of God

This Lent has been one of death. Its beginning, Ash Wednesday, brought the news that a good friend and mentor was found dead. Later in the day, a friend's husband took his life. A week ago, a friend of a friend's heart suddenly failed; his funeral was yesterday. Last night, a member of our parish faded away in his hospital bed, and tonight, our pastor's mother clings to life.

What does all this mean?

Death can inspire if it follows a life lived well. It can bring despair if it does not. Either way, death reminds us of our fragility and the brevity of our occupancy on this terrestrial plane.

One thing I have learned in this whirlwind of death: God takes care of us in ways we often do not realize. A friend prays, feeling a strange leading, and later finds out why. A chance meeting in a bank brings comfort. A vision inspires not only the seer, but those on the edges who hear of it. The gentle hand of God is waved to shift the air ever so slightly, causing the might-have-been to become real. Just enough is His way: if subtle ripples will get the job done, that's what He'll send. He saves the waves for later.

May we all be ready to feel the sweetness of His gentle touch, whether in life or in death.

Movin' Toward Eternity

Today as I made the long but pretty drive between work and picking up my son, I thought about the inevitability of life's learning curve. It seems a shame, really, to have to wait so long to be on this side of the curve. It's hard not to look back on the things in life I would have done differently had I only known! Here I am, past the 50 mark, wondering why in the world I had to wait till now to learn what I have through this life. I can't help but wonder if I could have been of greater benefit to God and the other denizens of this planet had I come to this "comfortable in my own skin" point earlier in life.

Then I remembered. Life doesn't end when it seems to. It goes on always. It doesn't matter how and when we learn whatever lessons we do, because we're not working for glory here, but for the other side. Each step taken here, however halting or hesitant, is meant to get us there. It is all a journey to The Grand End of the Path, and each of us goes at our own pace. We'll get there if we stay the course, even when we move slowly. And part of the journey is learning from our mistakes, not to mention letting others see our learning curve so they can learn, too!

There is joy in the journey. Relax and be led by the Master.

360 Degrees of Reaping

I spoke at a women's retreat a couple of weeks ago. A friend asked at the last minute (well, a few days in advance), not so much because she needed to fill a spot but because it fell into place and it just seemed right.

The following Saturday there I was, in a room full of women I had never met, all eyes upon me, all faces intent, smiling and expectant. Some shared with me afterwards about how my story resonated with them; others graciously thanked me for being vulnerable. What they don't know is that my revisiting of past lessons for their benefit wrought healing in my own soul to a degree that astounds me even now. A window lifted within me to release air left over from old musty wounds and allow clean, breezy, "freshly washed sheets drying in the sunshine air" to rush in and fill me. I now breathe deeply of this delicious inner scent and it makes me feel clean inside.

Sometime I will share with you what I shared with them. For now, I am amazed at God's amazing grace.

Gone but Not Forgotten

Like a long-lost friend, I return to my blog. The joy I found in writing had, for a while, gone dormant, squelched as it was by a well-intended misunderstanding. I hope that doesn't sound too mysterious; it is not something I can talk about.

What I have discovered while I was gone is how much my walk with Christ is wrapped up in my being able to write about it. Writing helps me process important lessons on my journey. It solidifies in me the things He tells me as I walk, both large and small. The more I write, the more inspired I become and the more joy I find as I continue on the path with Him.

Another benefit of chronicling the spiritual life is seeing that prayers whispered in past posts have been answered, revelations of God's quiet but steady hand working in my life.

Here's to writing, to paths and to the nuggets of answered prayer we find along the way!