even The Planet Keeper finds Rest

She said she could see it coming, "Three days. Three days of rest followed by something...  big". And I haven't stopped thinking of it since. Asking, wondering, dwelling on the meaning of rest.

God's Own brand of Rest. 

Zeek and I have been talking about it during school. The seven days of creation. One of them a full day of Rest declared Holy by The Maker of the universe. 

And we've talked about setting aside one of our seven days.

But where does a human find Rest?

How do we stop the train? 

Isn't it to honor Him that we dig, scrub, press, kneed, organize, feed, plan and keep? And shouldn't we stop, kneel, and offer all of this. Declare it all Holy? 

But where do three days come from the hands of a full time wife, mom, teacher, pet keeper, driver, chef, homemaker? 

Oh, but Who does Make my home? 

And Who Brings the Peace that we settle into?

And didn't He Create the entire planet? The Planet Keeper Himself.

If He can find Rest at the end of such Work... if He can find a moment to call it complete; to declare it all Holy, then why couldn't I?

He told the Israelites to collect enough manna only for the needs of their family each day. And those who tried to collect more were greeted with maggots in their surplus. But God allowed them to collect double on the sixth day in preparation of the Sabbath; the day of rest. 

So, the Israelites, who were in the desert and had a very real constant need for God's provisions, not only found His favor and miracles left and right, but even they were miraculously prepared for Rest. Plan ahead, gather double, and make way for the Sabbath. 

Aren't I in charge of what I do with my schedule? Couldn't I plan ahead each week? And if the task really is as insurmountable as it feels, then couldn't I allowed myself to completely rely on Him to part the waters and make His Way?  

Walking with Scripture

 The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want.

I have all that I need. 

He makes me to lie in green pastures.

He leads me beside the still waters.

He's providing the peace. Not me.

He's doing the leading. Not me.

He renews my strength.

...He said to me, "my grace is sufficient for you,

for my power is made perfect in weakness."

He guides me along right paths

bringing honor to His name.

Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death

I will fear no evil...

For You are with me...

and if God is for us then who can be against us?

For I am convinced that not death or life,

not angels or demons, not present or future, or any powers,

not height or depth, or anything else in creation,

will be able to separate us from the love of God

that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Your rod and your staff they comfort me.

You prepare a feast before me in the presence of my enemies.

You honor me by anointing my head with oil.

My cups runs over.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life,

and I will live in the house of the Lord, forever. 

Psalm 23

Romans 8:38-39

Romans 38

2 Corinthians 2:9

More than my Salvation

It's been cold and stale in this room, where those months just before You're Light filled every edge and shone about countless gifts and blessings everywhere my eyes rested. 

My season shifted, and I took the change in stride. Who gets to have You so close, so effortlessly, continuously, forever? 

I kept my eye on You. My heart ready to jump in where ever You called. I bent my knee and raised my face to the sky everyday. I spoke Truths to the little one, and I placed my prayerful hand on the rise and fall of the chest who still tries to carry all our burdens. I crossed through this house proclaiming our cover. Dry as the words were of Your power.

I waited, and I didn't fill with guilt. I know the Spirit is like the wind, and who knows when or from where it will come and go? It is not for me to say or to earn, that I shall never boast. It is You who decides.

Until last night, I only asked for You to pull me in nearer again. I'm afraid of me without your peace. It is scary- what I am incapable of without you. 

The difference between me and me with You is astounding. You carry me. You lift me up and you take me right where I need to be. 

I love that. 

And last night I begged for it. I took into consideration that You love that too, and I pleaded for the Spirit to move in me again. 

And today You drew near. In random world-filled moments You initiated, and we spoke, and I saw. 

And tonight, after a day with family, bonding and hand holding, gift buying and laughter, I filled my Sentsys with new fall scents, turned the lights low and sat down to some Ann. Ann, who once filled me and then months ago all at once read like a foreign language... as if the wind had blown the summer door closed. I read her weekend prayer, and You took me here... and I heard You. 

And I looked up into this kitchen, holy temple turned hospital waiting room- and this time I saw it. That warm glow. That halo around everyplace I rested my eyes, again. 

I blinked and shook my face and opened wider. I looked around to the half-grown puppy who came new during the stale dry spell, and I even saw the light around her for the first time, ever. 

My heart quickened. I read and re-read Your invitation. I traced over the lines of every welcoming word. I breathed deep the promise that such a still hollow season has passed, and I took heed that this kind of gratefulness and worship is the same as anything with You... from You. not me. 

I answer yes. Always, and You know this. My lover, my guide, my counselor, my strength... dare I mention, friend. 

I pray that this time with you, this pouring in is long and uninterrupted. 

And I will rest in You, oh God.   

song reference: audrey assad, restless

no talking...

I've often wondered and prayed about my talkativeness.The answer to that prayer seems to be coming in the form of a supposed virus.

Diagnosed with viral laryngitis, I've been prescribed nothing but hydration, physical rest, and no talking. 

No talking. 

That's like going to the gym for me.

No talking seems impossible. Whether it's words or song, I've always found it irresistible to fill dead airspace between two or more with sound. There are few special people I can comfortably sit in silence with. I am well known to out-talk the talkiest of talkers.  

Of course, I've talked about it. I've concluded in the presence of my closest of friends that I fill space because it is terribly uncomfortable for me to sit in someone else's silence. 

During the past few days of no talking for me I have learned so much more about that discomfort. And I continue to learn.  

I didn't realize how much I associate silence with bad things.

Silence speaks loud and clear volumes to me.

True or untrue, silence says to me that a person is of one of these models:

unhappy

angry

biting their tongue

holding back

punishing with the "silent treatment"

nervous

skeptical

insecure

feeling unworthy

having low-self esteem

opinionated

brooding

showing distain

sparing people what they really think because it isn't good

untrustworthy

sneaky

hiding

omitting

guilty

in trouble

rude

haughty

arrogant

passing judgment

antisocial

timid

uninteresting

wallflower...

I know that there are connotations that go along with chatty people.

annoying

ignorant

unbridled

having no control

self centered

insecure

over indulgent

etc...

But I am a little of all those things. It's true. 

And I'd rather be seen that way than to be misrepresented in silence. 

I'm not bitter, insecure, antisocial, untrustworthy, rude, or a liar. I'm not trying to hide something, get away with something, or avoid something. I am right here, available and capable. I'm for you and with you, and although I'm more careful of what I will give you than I might have used to be, I do not withhold myself. I believe you deserve the common courtesy, love, and care that I would extend to anyone created by the same loving Father.

I love to hear your stories, where you came from, what you believe and why. I love to know the details of your heart. It's a treasure to me that I keep locked away in a special place. Sharing leads to loyalty, trust, prayer, and family.

My current required silence is really stretching me. 

In the mall when a person wants to talk to me and I have to keep it short and simple, I feel like I've taken something from them. 

When my kid sits at the dinner table and no one says anything, I feel like we're missing SO much of each other. 

When the phone rings and I have to text the person that I can't talk now, I feel rude.

When a service man comes to the house and I have to stay away so as not to communicate, I feel like I've lost the chance at extending our family.  

I feel like words, sharing, encouraging, responding, engaging with interest are all gifts we offer each other. I feel like I'm wrapping gifts and hiding them in the attic to collect dust, right now.

I know there is more to this. I know that what is happening is good for me. 

I'm praying through it. Keeping my eyes and ears open. I'm looking for truth and light behind all these ideas and notions that are surfacing about my interpretations of silence vs. sharing. 

I know this is an exercise in which for me to learn and grow. 

I don't usually do this, but if you have thoughts or ideas on this, prayerfully consider sharing them with me, please. I know my ideas freshly laid out might look a little stiff, close-minded, or even dark. I'm letting them out to stretch with me and hopefully take aim in a little better direction.

I'd love to hear from you. :)

Blessings in silence. 

in gratitude for

• an early morning playdate with puppies 
• two boys' digging deep into a sandbox and their rekindled friendship 
• a meeting with an old school, straight shooting, high school coach
• God's unending love for his children
• stopping to turn around and hold a broken one 
• three days on the calendar for next week with my son's bff 
• the way his new sister makes him so happy and different- fulfilled
• google translate
• having her beside me in the kitchen
• teaching her to cook 
• fresh baby lemon-basil clippings for our stuffed manicotti 
• an early home husband
• pandora's paraguayan radio stations
• dim lit dinner for a family of four
• first pickles
• sugar cookies stacked with double berry cheesecake ice cream
• the beautiful hum of my maid servants; dishwasher, washing machine, and dryer
• pink and cream roses piled high from the weekend welcoming
• school things right around the corner
• the changing of life, into the unknown
• waiting for the unexpected
• knowing it will be grand again
• something i've never seen before 

A Prayer, Please

My almost six year old son listens to Toby Mac incessantly. One of the songs I hear blaring from his room sings, 

"give me that funky Jesus music, give me that soulful gumbo."

I seriously need some Jesus Gumbo right now. I have not been passionate or moved in anything pertaining to my spirit in connection with God in too long. 

I'm not feeling dried up. He's very much here, present and involved. It's me who's lacking/slacking.

A couple of months ago time came and swept me up like a tide. And not that I'm less busy now, but I have time back again (if that makes any sense) and I just can't seem to get back "in it". You know?

I had great things rolling for a good stretch before summer. From Ann Voskamp and the gratitude project, to Walking with Him Wednesdays, to some really great books including "The Pursuit of God", to Compassion, to Women Living Well, to a proverbs 31 study which I devoured, to God Speaks, to reading all of your websites which meant SO much to me, to a James study... all right here in my home. 

Now, I'm looking out, ready, and I can't snag onto anything I remotely have a heart for. 

I should at least be DEEP in prayer, maybe even fasting right now for my family, my parents home front, my husbands work, my son's relationships, my coming FES daughter's travels and readied heart. Barb V, Dolly G, and even me. 

But I lay my hands on his deeply breathing chest in the morning and press out a few hard to find words in my half-sleep. I curl around my little one and squeak out the only thing that always comes to me when I ask anything for him -safety and health and that He will be planted deep down and soundly in his little heart, forever. Amen 

So, if you could help me if you are reading this: ask God to give me a gentle little nudge into what ever area of Him He has for me next. I want it so badly.

Pray that He gives me what it takes -motivation, fire, passion, inspiration... to get me in that water again.

If you have any ideas or are being moved by something you are in love with these days in Spirit, share it with me would you, please? 

Thanks so much for checking in on me. 

I hope that all is well with you.

Blessings and love, 

Lora

Coming Back to Gratitude (sometimes i really do forget)

Fresh vegetables from a neighbor.
My 12 year old looking stick-like body, all in working order.

Pug nails, ticking.
One Sunflower filled with seeds and memories.

Having Time back.
Love songs to Him running through my always song stuck mind.
Hot morning coffee.

Baby gates.
The rare but always beautiful landing of a particular forever friend.

Home purging.
Pushing out to bring in.
Being almost there.

Seeing Him again.
A hot summer day poolside with my own son: an old longing dream fulfilled again.

Sundresses.
The way the light streams in.

Paper wings planted like morning kisses.

The recent discovery of a special place nearby.

This one and only. Always.

Thank You God, for all of this.