I’ve been flopping around like a fish on the sand the last few weeks. Motivationally bipolar, I’ve alternated between feverish bouts of productivity and crawling into a mental hidey-hole with a good book and better chocolate. There’s been a lot to celebrate. About two-thirds of our house interior was treated to a hip new shade of paint thanks to a slew of hard work and helpers. Two trunk loads were surrendered to Goodwill along with my best intentions to hold a garage sale. An entire van load (seats removed) of treasure was packaged and priced for a kids’ consignment sale. Ezekiel’s 4th birthday was ushered in with much rejoicing, brownie sundaes, and the humorously needful instructions, “Swallow your spit before you blow out the candles, sweetheart.” But my spirit has been stifled for want of water and fresh air.
There’s no excuse for it, really. Bibles outnumber the people in our household by at least 3 to 1, a different translation available for every day of the week. My iPod is loaded with anointed worship waiting for me to push play. I have a full stable of my favorite blue Papermates and open country in my journal.
Why do I make time to sort out the laundry but neglect my heart? Then why am I surprised when my attitude becomes brittle and my downtime fails to refresh? I know better. So why do I suffocate myself, thinking that my to-do list enables me to defy spiritual gravity until I find myself gasping and coated with sand again?
My mother-in-law showed me her name engraved in silver the other day, eyes lit up with new-bible excitement. I caught a whiff of something sweet in the air: my first love. I remembered the joy of opening the word and diving into His promises, His love for me in histories, His presence hovering over phrases.
I knew it was time to put the schedule back in God’s capable hands and gaze upon His beauty. Time to take Jesus up on His offer to be rest for my soul when I’m weary and burdened. Time to soak off the sand in living water and inhale the fragrance of His grace, to quit pushing out leaves and let Him grow some blossoms within me.
Let all that I am wait quietly before God,
for my hope is in him.
He alone is my rock and my salvation,
my fortress where I will not be shaken. Psalm 62:5,6
My heart has heard you say, “Come and talk with me.”
And my heart responds, “Lord, I am coming.” Psalm 27:8