I am finding that I’m consistently disappointed when I open these easy distillations of the word. Ugh, the entire first 5 weeks are things I already know. I’m not seeking new revelation; but I even inhabit these topics. I live them. Not perfectly, of course; but I have more than just head knowledge. It goes straight to the heart, too. So, I closed the book, feeling very discouraged. And sat, silently asking God what I’m supposed to do.
I listened as the birds chirped around the neighborhood. I watched as a butterfly flit onto a dandelion in my grass. I let my eyes blur and followed the motion of my roses dancing with the gentle breeze, peeking out from behind lilac bushes. I tried not to notice the weeds that have sprung up and flourished in the weeks leading up to finals. I had to stop myself from making lists of things that need to be done in the yard and mapping plans of how I’m going to accomplish them.
I realize that this study was written for others who need the knowledge I have received through other venues. They haven’t had their chance to apply God’s Word to these topics. It is something rarely addressed from the pulpit; hardly even broached in women’s groups. And likely, many good women don’t even confide these issues to their best friends over coffee. But, I do. Lots [you can ask her…she pens her ministry here]. And that makes me one of the blessed few, I know; one who has the deepest confidence in one so grounded in the Truth, and who has been surrounded and uplifted by so many godly women [and men] along the way, the kind that speak truth no matter the consequence. Ones who believe that God’s Word applies to every.second.of.this.life.
Thus, I’m not begrudging the author, or the publisher, for producing application-friendly truth in easily digestible portions. But I will admit that I ache for something a little deeper, a little stronger, a little less surface and more core; something that will penetrate directly through to my heart.
For now, I think I’m supposed to inhabit this place. The one that isn’t comfortable. The one that has a twinge of ache [oh how I hate to be even slightly uncomfortable]. The one that has weeds and needs tending. The one that isn’t a quick, easily distilled fix. And, I’m supposed to get out of my own head for a bit. Like getting out of my house after a season cooped up in the study. Letting the breeze blow through my soul and refresh my life. There is so much beauty out there. Not for the purpose of avoiding, but patiently waiting. Daily tending, daily sounding my spirit. Daily applying the salve of the Word to the deep wounds; drawing out the poison and replacing it with the tonic of truth.
I think this might be the road for my feet right now. Not a fast summiting of mountains, with amazing vistas and so-close-you-can-touch-heaven moments, but a season spent on the plains. Working brittle soil every day. Pulling the weeds that keep cropping up, from whence I still can’t tell. Dead-heading blooms to give way to new beauty. While still living here. And waiting on the Lord; knowing and being in His Word, talking to Him about it every day. And finding that sometimes, as a temporal being, only time can offer the remedy for what ails.
Beauty is where you find it. God has planted it all around; we just have to look up from ourselves to see it. And joy can be found in the calm, quiet rush of days strung together right where you are. Because even dandelions attract butterflies.