I think the most difficult thing in life is “putting in your time.” It is difficult living in deserts, in caves, and in dark places only known to your own heart. By cherishing suffering, we can enjoy flowers. By understanding pain, we can include peace. The balance of living is measured in wants, but for the joy of it we are lost.
If you want to appreciate steak, then almost never eat the meat. Church for me is much the same. Months of weeks in the desert cause my starvation. But then the moments of worship run deep. Some will never understand the taste of sweet wine. They drink, Sunday in and Sunday out, and grow fat. “Tell me what I want to hear… then I will follow your religion,” some hearts say. My heart says, “look up.”
I follow my God but am forever looking. I see Him in a moment, just before He is gone. In a church door, I feel Him. The bowing of my head, I praise. He is forever changing me. I am shaped by suffering, clipping away dead limbs, but my fruit is ripening. He has me in His hands and no one or no thing, including death, can take me away from His table.
Fear has a way of producing change. Heart disease creates someone who walks, if they want to live. Cancer takes its victims. Fear produces change. We all die, but am I dying?
With all these thing floating in my mind I attempt to explain them on paper. The writer says I need to read more books and the blogger adds a weight of posts per week. I should edit, I should grow, and I should learn. These are the demands of this world. All is true, but for myself I refuse to be chained to a task of their weights. I write, listening for my voice to speak. I write to share a memory. Unfolding on the inside is a picture of emotions tied to a task and I order it to reveal itself by listening. Who am I that my heart could speak? Should Shakespeare write a novel? Did Joan Rivers ever tell the truth? All of it is spinning without direction and I pause.
The biggest question I have is what do I have time for? Time for friends and writing and books and math. Time to live out the dreams planted by God. Do I have time for God? Do I have time to live or am I too busy? Do I have time for funerals? OR what?
My hearts pace needs to slow. My ear listens again for the still. His voice at times is so soft, as quiet as a whisper, yet somehow I can understand what He is saying. Taking time to find the direction of the day is the purpose. We are all busy-busy, but this treasure I seek each day is listening. I believe the God of all heavens takes time just to be with me! Alone with Him, bubbles come up from the deep and I am filled with light, hope, and inspiration. I just want to do one thing: His plan. Tuning in the radio station, listening, and seeing what is right in front of me.
I see the hurting who needs a smile. I see the hungry who needs bread. I see the old woman and carry her bag. I tickle the toes of a baby. The laughter of a child is the strongest medicine I know. Besides, it is God’s love.
We race at life instead of enjoying it. Accomplishing the next thing on the list has replaced treasuring the moment. Still, looking even deeper, I understand my need for Him. Him who sits on the throne has given me today to live….to be His hands and feet, to be His voice of hope. And, to be the one who takes time for instruction. So, God of heaven, today I offer my time, my heart, my fruit, and my mind. I hope I please You. I hope I find You today in all the forests I explore. I simply need one thing most of all: my God.