I just want to begin with a little confession, because I believe that confession is good for the soul. So here it is, I live my life, more often than not, like I’m lurching towards something more important than this moment.
In one sense, there’s a holy truth to that. I’m living for heaven and the divine delights that await me there. But that’s not the part that I’m confessing.
Here I am, allured by this lush green grass that only glows like this in the spring time, with a sky painted with nearly every shade of gentle blue to foreboding grey to puffy white. The chirping of bird songs reverberating their pleasant orchestra through my ear drums. The breeze kissing every exposed inch of my hands and face and toes. Blowing wisps of hair across my cheek.
And I am wondering what’s next. I wonder if I will ever finish the gruesome process of transposing my thoughts into the binding of a book. I wonder if I will ever be called on to speak at conferences, to women that love Jesus and want to hear about Him, as has long been the insatiable longing of my heart, and at the times when I have had the fortune to share stories and Scripture with crowds of saints, it has burst my heart open at the seams with delight.
I wonder if I will ever be the human being that I long to be, to love like I want to, to walk in obedience like I desire, to honor God with my voice and body and soul, like I wish I would.
I wonder if we will always live here, among this lush sea of green, awaiting the purple bursts of the Red bud trees to arrive on our land. Or if we will go back to traveling the country… maybe even the world, this time.
I await for the Church to know how beautiful she is, or how beautiful Christ is. I await for all of my unbelieving friends to realize that they are missing out on the most wonderful Treasure of all.
I wait. And long. And wonder.
And I rush.
Because, by golly, soap takes a month to cure and I need to have enough cured when the demand hits. And I have an appointment to go pick up some windows that I found at a thrift shop, that they are holding for me, and I need to get them today. But before I can do that, I have to clean out my car. And before I can make soap (which could take up to 8 hours of the day), I need to find my kitchen counter, and clean my stove top and…. And my son is going to need picked up at the library at some point. And did I read the Bible today? Has that really become a check listed thing to do? I know better. Where’s my delight? Did I forget to eat breakfast? But baseball season has hit. And craft fairs are soon coming and need prepared for. And….
There’s always one more thing determined to steal my attention. If it’s not the future desires, it the present demands.
And in all of this waiting, and wondering, and running, and ignoring, I miss the moment. This one, right now, where I could sit like Mary, transfixed on the goodness and Presence of God Almighty, who comes to commune with me, and in me. And when I miss that moment, every single thing unravels at the seams.
But somehow, when I capture that awareness, that stillness, that trans-fixation on Him, everything else seems to move effortlessly, and no longer am I left longing for some future event or some superficial fulfillment or a clean kitchen. Instead, I am fulfilled. I don’t have to wonder what the future holds, because I lessen my grip on my own glory, or my own exaltation, and begin to cling to His glory and exaltation. And if He wants to exalt Himself through my voice or pen, He will, but if He doesn’t He won’t… but I am already fulfilled in Him and don’t need any accomplishments to make me full. And if He wants my business to succeed any longer, He will make away for me to accomplish what needs accomplished. And are those windows really more important than my relationship with Jesus? And Simon is happy to hang out at the library for as long as he needs to.
When I savor, and still myself, and press in, my days weave themselves effortlessly like a tapestry. Walking begins to feel more like floating. And I begin to delight in right now, and in eternity, and mostly just in Him. And my heart takes a deep soulful, contented sigh. Because we weren’t created for the rushing, impatient, demanding voices in our head to be satisfied. We were made to be satisfied in Him.
If we take it all the way back to the original creation, before everything became messed up and confusing, then we will see what we were created for… to walk with Him in the garden, in the cool of the day. To enjoy the communion. And that was Jesus’ purpose… to restore that broken communion and give us back our deep, fulfilling strolls through the garden with Him.