Joy E. DeKok's Blog, page 10

Part of the Plan {A Lesson Learned From God}

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“Don’t judge each day by the harvest you reap, but by the seeds you plant.” Robert Louis Stevenson

As fall races towards winter, I’ve wandered and pondered a little more often. I take deep breaths of the fall air, and I feel a twinge. Winter isn’t far away – I can hear it in the howl of the wind and the clacking of bare branches. I can see it in the escaping seeds.

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And the sweet juncos are back.

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I will miss the bees, butterflies, and blossoms.

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Mama taught me that this was the time of year to do a lot of cleaning – windows, walls, closets, cupboards, and corners received my full attention – every nook and cranny. But not this year. I can do those things when it’s too cold and slippery to go outside.

These days, I can’t seem to resist the call of the leaves blowing in the wind and the scent of fading wildflowers. They smell sweet and spicy and rich.

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And I love watching the leaf landings.

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In a determined attempt to do something in a dry writing season, I’ve focused on planning. Okay – on some days this involves intentional procrastination, but I do love my planner, pens, and doing some idea outlining.

And this planning involves a lot of walking with my camera because I almost always find inspiration in this brown and shimmering season.

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These pondering walks often hold surprises. Like when I stopped to take a picture of a milkweed pod exploding I saw a milkweed bug standing on a seed. It was such a cool moment I forgot the longing for summer to last just a little bit longer. The vivid insect seemed so confident standing there on his tiny platform, and I wondered if there was a marketing lesson in that because that’s what the word most often means these days.

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But I knew that what was coming was so much more than that. So I kept walking among the glistening, the fluffy, the crunchy, and the brown.

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Everything held the promise of the coming lesson – even flower heads exquisite in their emptiness.

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Standing by this one, I told God, “Lord, I’m kind of tired of this dry season – of no words. And planning for dreams that feel more dormant than alive.”

I waited certain I was very close to what He wanted me to know – it felt like His words for me were on the tip of my heart. That strange thought lingered, and then I heard myself say, “God – these seeds and the coming dormant season are evidence of Your plans for next spring and summer and fall. This waiting time isn’t wasted time. It’s me and You time. It’s part of Your plan.”

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I felt jubilance explode deep inside me. It was like the sound of fajitas on a hot plate on my birthday and felt like a sip of iced water in my throat when the pico de gallo burns and makes my eyes water – smooth, powerful, and fresh.

At that moment my understanding about my plans and the work itself changed.

Each word on the page and each photo, and each attempt at marketing is a seed. The birds or the wind will get some of them, and they will get planted where I can’t see them, but someone else will. It’s the same with each prayer, kind word, smile, good deed, or I love you offered – God will take each one and use them as He wills. And then my thoughts got exciting in a relief-filled kind of way because, in all of these things, the results are His.

I’ve always known this on a practical level, but now, this rich truth snuggled deeper into my heart as if God gently pushed it into prepared soil with His mighty thumb and a spiritual spring took up residence in a season of creative drought.

As I took more pictures, a little giddy with the joy that always comes with a tender touch from God, I celebrated with some quiet although not silent praise. And I told the Lord, “I know I’m not off the hook – I want to do my best, with Your help to be a good steward of the talent and knowledge I have and Jon’s financial investment in the work I do. But I won’t try and rush or push through this season where the words feel shut up tight. It’s all part of Your plan.”

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There is is a bursting on its way directed by God. And when you see it, the glory will belong to Him. All of it.

We can make our plans, but the Lord determines our steps. Proverbs 16:9 (NLT)

Until Next Time,

Joy

Dry season pondering. #LessonsLearnedFromGod #FallSeeds #hope http://bit.ly/2igoJzrTweet This
This dry season is part of His plan. http://bit.ly/2igoJzr #FaithInTheSeasons Tweet This

Brave {A Lesson Learned From God}

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“Courage is contagious. When a brave man takes a stand, the spines of others are often stiffened.” Billy Graham

The wildflower fields are brown except for a few fading blossoms. Stopping to enjoy them, they seemed brave to me.

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I know they are just flowers, but wandering in their midst the last few chilly days, they quietly delighted me.

I snapped their pictures and wondered about a new longing I’ve had – the one to be brave, courageous, to whisper boldly and be strong. In Him. For Him. Because of Him.

The desire stretched its way across my heart again as I stood on the path. I told God, “I want to be like Daniel in the lion’s den.” Then a thought came uninvited. “What about being like Jesus on the cross?”

Fear rose up in my heart, and I said, “Wow Lord – looks at this beauty!” And then I snapped another picture and started walking fast as if I could somehow leave that thought behind me.

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But the desire and the question would not leave me alone.

I decided to explain things to God. “Father, I want to be brave, full of courage and endurance, valiant, bold, fearless, great-hearted, confident, determined, unflinching, compassionate, merciful, and intrepid for you. Maybe we could even throw in a little pluck and spunk and grit for good measure. But Jesus – if can’t I be like Daniel, how about Esther?”

God was quiet as I stood waiting for the wind to calm so I could get another photo. I didn’t sense His disapproval nor His approval – only His patience which equaled love to me.

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Unsettled in my heart, I went to the house and opened my Bible. Sitting down to read I asked God to show me what He meant. I gotta tell you I was hoping He’d encourage me to love, be joyful, have peace, patience, to be kind and good, faithful, gentle, and self-controlled. These are the fruits of the Spirit after all, and maybe He wanted me to be more patient and self-controlled because these are the two fruits I struggle the most to bear.

I read for a while then went back to the wildflower fields hoping for a whisper on the wind. Instead of the comfort, I was seeking, my internal discomfort increased. Again – I felt no disapproval – but a loving conviction and an urgent hunger for more sent me back to my Bible.

This time, I turned to the Gospels afraid of what God was asking. It felt dangerous. Deadly even. (Hey! I write fiction – my imagination went places!)

The chaos screaming fear into my heart slowly stilled as I read over and over what held Jesus to the cross. I wanted to be sure of the lesson. Was it the nails? Yes, physically. The soldiers? No – He knew they were just doing their jobs although He prayed for them – how amazing is that!? His love for me? Yes, and that’s usually my focus when it comes to the cross, but there was one more thing, and it was the one that God wanted me to understand.

I found it in John 6:38 . . .

For I have come down from heaven, not to do My own will, but the will of Him who sent Me. (NKJV)

For Jesus, doing God’s will meant coming to earth, teaching, healing, loving, and displaying all the fruits of God’s Spirit on His way to Calvary.

And staying on the cross until the perfect will of God was complete.

Reading the verse out loud, I felt like I was standing on a precipice with my toes already curled over the edge and He wanted me to jump fully into His will. For me, and for all of us who believe Jesus is who God’s Word says He is – God wants us to tell others about Him. The Messiah. The one who is the way, the truth, and the life. The Savior. King of Kings. Lord of Lords.

When I first came to Christ, I could not shut up about Jesus. I was almost sixteen and bold, and anyone with breath in their bodies was someone who might need His salvation. I loved Him fiercely and proclaimed the Gospel with a fearless passion. Because of His love for me, I loved others deeply without concern about what they thought of me – all that mattered was what they thought about Him.

I was a testifier. A witness. A Truth-teller.

Desire flowed from my heart to His, and I whispered, “Father – I’m almost sixty, and I want to live like that again.”

There were two questions that propelled me back then and today fuel the re-ignited flame in my soul:

If we who believe in Jesus don’t tell those who don’t believe, how will they know?
And who better to tell them about His love for them than those of us who have experienced it?

I looked at the pictures of the last, lingering bloomers. There was a rush of joy in my spirit as I realized that God used these stragglers – so beautiful in their fragile, quiet, and bold beauty – to remind me to be brave as I live out His will for me.

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And now this is my prayer:

“Father, I want to be brave, full of courage and endurance, valiant, bold, fearless, great-hearted, confident, determined, unflinching, compassionate, merciful, and intrepid for you. Maybe we could even throw in a little pluck and spunk and grit for good measure. But mostly I want to be like Jesus on the cross – determined to live fully in Your will.”

The fear of a deadly danger passed, and a sense of purpose took its place. Once again, my number one reason for breathing is to tell those who might face an eternal death so horrible we can only imagine it.

Where will we find these souls to tell? I found a clue in a conversation Jesus had with this guy in Mark 5:18-20 (NIV) . . .

18 As Jesus was getting into the boat, the man who had been demon-possessed begged to go with him. 19 Jesus did not let him, but said, “Go home to your own people and tell them how much the Lord has done for you, and how he has had mercy on you.” 20 So the man went away and began to tell in the Decapolis how much Jesus had done for him. And all the people were amazed.

Wouldn’t it be great if the people we love but don’t believe yet were amazed by Jesus?

Until Next Time,

Joy

Yellow Coneflowers {A Lesson Learned From God}

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All summer the yellow coneflowers held my attention more than other years. At first, I thought it was their hope-filled color, but something told me there was more. And in my mind, I heard a specific song when I contemplated the coming lesson.

In a whimsical mood one day, I said to no one in particular, “They remind me of my friends.” And that’s when my pondering transitioned into a prayer of gratitude.

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These women have stood with me when life held the possibility of a sting and helped me see not the stinger, but the golden potential I might have missed. Many times they had the wisdom to tell the difference and the clarity to point out the blessing in the sting.

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And so often when they could have turned away and into their concerns, and instead they drew near to mine. Even when life blew holes in my heart and I curled my fears inward because I couldn’t hear what I needed to say just yet.

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They stayed close when I felt like someone had pulled off more than one of my petals.

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They waited nearby so that even when my reach was tentative, I would find them there – always faithful even when their needs were as great or greater than mine.

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And sometimes they reached out for me first.

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There were the days when the wind blew hotter and harder, and we went with it together because we were stronger that way.

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When I was thirsty, and on the frazzled side of grumpy they waited with me for the refreshment we all knew God was going to send – we just didn’t know when.

And my writing friends . . .

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. . . listened with their hearts wide open to baby ideas . . .

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And listened some more as the ideas grew . . .

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. . . and helped me chase fear and doubt away so the idea could blossom and make way for more ideas.

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And best of all, on those days when things seemed unbearable, my friends held me up and covered me with their prayers.

They would generously tell you I have done the same for them. I pray they are right.

Until Next Time,

Joy

I almost forgot – that song that ran through my mind all summer and fall when I watched the yellow coneflowers and waited for God’s tender lesson? Well, this time it wasn’t a hymn or spiritual song. It was the chorus from a song Dionne Warwick sang . . . That’s What Friends Are For . . .

Keep smiling, keep shining

Knowing you can always count on me, for sure

That’s what friends are for

For good times and bad times

I’ll be on your side forever more

That’s what friends are for . . .

Songwriters: Burt F Bacharach / Carole Bayer Sager
© Warner/Chappell Music, Inc

Agreement, Approval, & Acceptance {A Whispering Post}

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Author’s Note: Although some might hear my voice in this post as loud, it’s a whispering post.

The “discussions” I’ve read and listened to lately and a few I’ve participated in leave me wondering, “What in the world happened to common courtesy and respect?”

And it’s not just from one segment of our world. The shouting and disrespect come from people of all ages, races, religions, all levels of education, and various political convictions.

As the discussions grow hotter and meaner, it feels like the hostile demands for discussion are: agreement, approval, and acceptance with no exclusions and at all costs.

To gain some logical grounding before exploring my internal response to these unrealistic ultimatums I turned to the dictionary.

Agreement is defined as the harmony of opinion (beliefs, convictions, ideas, thoughts, and perspectives), action, character, and course of action. There is an assumption of solidarity, understanding, empathy, rapport, sympathy, and unity. But again, only for the people who agree 100%.

Anything less demands a deadlock, stalemate or standoff. And tons of condemnation.

Why are we in such a hurry to close our hearts and minds to each other?

Then there’s approval. Before the definition, a question for all of us to consider:

If we believe we are absolutely right, why do we want and or need anyone else’s approval? Because anything less than 100% approval = 100% rejection, condemnation, and dislike?

On to the definition: backing, endorsement, vote, thumbs up, and ratification.

These days, if we don’t offer this to those who believe differently than we do, an alarm is sounded to protest, hate, condemn, call names, and make demands that require approval or else.

Or else what? More condemnation, unkindness, and division?

The big question here that begs an answer: Is anyone listening? Or in all the shouting have most of us stopped listening?

In the midst of this chaos of unkindness, we all lose as we sacrifice consideration, courtesy, and respect for demands wrapped in brash, sometimes indecent, demands that everyone approve of us and every single thing we do.

Which only leads to more disagreement and disapproval even if what is being said makes sense.

Here’s the truth: You don’t need my approval, and I don’t need yours. And after years of wanting it, I don’t anymore. I strove for it. Prayed for it. Yearned for it.

What a waste of time. And freedom.

It’s a willing captivity – how sad is that?

Then there’s acceptance.

I love this one! The best part of the definition is: to receive as a gift, to endure willingly or even reluctantly without protest or reaction. To care for, stand beside, bear up, enjoy, and like even in disagreement.

Acceptance is the grace (the state of being considerate and thoughtful) we offer each other even when we don’t and can’t agree or approve.

It’s choosing respect over rudeness. Love over hate. Humility over pride. Compassion over condemnation. No matter what. 

Like the calling given to those of us who believe in God.

Finally, all of you be of one mind, having compassion for one another; love as brothers, be tenderhearted, be courteous; not returning evil for evil or reviling for reviling, but on the contrary, blessing, knowing that you were called to this, that you may inherit a blessing. For “He who would love life And see good days, Let him refrain his tongue from evil, a nd his lips from speaking deceit.  Let him turn away from evil and do good; let him seek peace and pursue it. 1 Peter 3:8-11 (NKJV)

Are my personal, spiritual, and political convictions strong? Yes, I will remain steadfast in all of them without excuse or defense unless God changes my mind.

I also realize that there is great power in words and the world needs us to use the ones that will make the most difference. God calls many of us to the podiums and printed word to do just that. And I thought at one time that was my calling. I was wrong.

Instead, He’s called me to a much quieter place that still involves words and even strong words, but words always wrapped with love and acceptance even when the things that divide me from others are great and of great importance.

To some my silence is cowardly, but I have to tell you – being quiet when I want to speak my disagreement loudly takes more courage than I ever thought possible. Telling someone in a lowered tone of voice, “I respectfully disagree,” instead of giving a point by point counter opinion, is my response to God’s tender whisper, “A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.”

I’d rather clench my jaw and my fists and speak out.

Instead, His call on me is to whisper boldly.

For me, this is not just difficult; it is impossible without the loving conviction of God.

A note on all these definitions – according to Webster, agreement, approval, and acceptance can be synonyms of each other. But I wonder if in making them the same, we weaken them the same way we dilute each other’s importance when we demand approval and agreement and demand acceptance before we offer it.

Just a quiet thought.

Until Next Time,

Joy

His call on me is to whisper boldly. #MyVoiceInThisWilderness Tweet This
Agree. Approve. Accept. Are they the same? Not really. #PonderingPost #WhisperingPostTweet This
There is great power in words. How will we use them? #Agreement #Approval #AcceptanceTweet This

One Fine Day {Lessons Learned From God}

A couple of weeks ago, I was in a mood. The kind where the only way out of it was lots of coffee, a long walk, and finally a nap. So, I headed outside with a full Thermos of the caffeinated stuff and my camera just in case I saw something worthwhile.

Yeah – it was that bad.

It was probably less than two minutes into my jaunt that the beauty out there started to get to me.

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I wished I’d left my Thermos in the house because I had to keep setting it down and the one time it took a tumble, and my mood went from almost improved to not so much.

But then I kept seeing more of the beauty because that’s the way it is out here. God is so kind even when my heart is so heavy I can’t feel His blessing right away.

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On the way, a laugh out loud funny thing happened: the coneflowers started to express my almost former bad mood. What a conglomeration of emotions!

I’d been feeling a little faded.

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And a little bugged.

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Stressed.

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I admit to being a little bent out of shape by a deep sadness in my soul.

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And on edge.

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Off-kilter.

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Buffeted by the winds of discouragement.

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And on my last nerve.

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After I stopped laughing, I thanked God for (again!) illustrating my circumstances in the blossoms. He knows my love language better than anyone because He wired me that way.

Instead of moving on and continually putting my coffee down, I stood still and drank it. That’s when gratitude for the beauty all around me vanquished my grouchy feelings. It was like a giant dousing of goodness over my snarky heart.

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God heard my stress-filled prayer. “Help. Me. I. Need. Your. Mercy.”

I knew I could ask in that desperate tone because the Psalmist did and God heard.

You, Lord, are forgiving and good, abounding in love to all who call to you. Hear my prayer, Lord; listen to my cry for mercy. When I am in distress, I call to you, because you answer me. Psalm 86:5-7 (NIV)

I leave you with a little more of the beauty He created, (this might be my favorite photo from that day – a bee on tip-toe!) savoring the morning on my way back to the house for that nap. And one more verse I pray will encourage your heart.

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The Lord is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love. Psalm 103:8 (ESV)

Oh! And I called Jon to apologize for my grumbling that morning and to tell him how God took my not so fine morning and turned it into one fine day!

Until Next Time,

Joy

God took my not so fine morning and turned it into one fine day! #Inspiration #WildflowerWalk #ConeflowersTweet This
God heard my stress-filled prayer. #inspiration #GodHears #WildflowerWalkTweet This
God is kind even when my heart is so heavy I can’t feel His blessing right away. #StressedToBlessedTweet This

Nitpicking {LessonsLearnedFromGod}

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When I go out to write, I plan to stay long. Sometimes from BL (Before Lunch) to AC (Afternoon Coffee). A couple of weeks ago, I went to two places – I love the salads and iced tea at one and the coffee at the other.

I couldn’t believe the things I heard from two groups of women.

When I was a kid, my Grandma Joy called people who talked about the little things wrong with other people nit-pickers. But these women were picking themselves to pieces.

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And they were saying almost the same things. They hated their teeth, lips, hands, hair, eyes, voices, and their feet/toes.  And more.

The first group of women were in their 30s at the most. The second group were in the 50s at the least.

Their voices weren’t whiny and not one of them seemed to be manipulating their friends into compliments and reassurances.

They meant the things they were saying about themselves and their pick, pick, pick was constant.

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Not one of them named an actress or woman she’d rather look like so they weren’t playing the comparison game, but pretty soon I was and I had a secret picking party of my own.

My internal responses went something like this:

“Lady, I’d give a lot to have hair like you. My bald spot lights up this room!”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake – you have a child/children to blame for your stretch marks. I have obesity.”

For every one of their complaints I had my own and we were all getting meaner.

Pick, pick, pick. Until I felt like all we had left of ourselves were bits and pieces.

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But every one of them was lovely to the point of beautiful and I wished they could really see that.

On my way out of the second place, I stopped in the bathroom and the automatic light flickered on. I was facing the mirror. I don’t like mirrors. But I decided to take a closer look at me the way I might have encouraged every one of those others to do.

Here’s what a bit of that internal conversation sounded like:

“Wow. This new hair cut is masking some of the bald.”

As I added a fresh coat of gloss to my Pink Champange LipSense, I thought, “This color makes my eyes bluer and this is good because I really like my eyes.”

I didn’t leave the bathroom feeling all lovely and captivating, but I walked to my car with at least three of my picked pieces in a healthier place.

The next morning, I went for a walk and prayed for us – those women and me. All over the leaves on the bush in front of me were these tiny remnants of blossoms. And one – that like us Nitpickers was hanging by a thread.

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Snapping these photos, a thought crossed my mind and stole my breath for a moment: All that personal nit-picking wasn’t just mean – every word left us feeling as worthless as the crumbs we wipe from the table and toss out or rinse down the drain.

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On my way back to the house I thought maybe I should start a Nit-pickers No More movement. It seems like a silly and insignificant thing.

But what if it isn’t? Does personal nit-picking lead to bigger and worse things like picking apart the beauty, lives, thoughts, opinions, and beliefs of others? Could it be so contagious that it doesn’t just get caught by a woman at another table eating a salad or drinking her second large dark roast but by everyone whose lives are touched?

I know we shouldn’t think too highly of ourselves (See Romans 3), but I also believe it’s true we shouldn’t devalue who we are either. And after what I heard that day and what I hear myself say about myself sometimes, I think the second might be harder than the first.

Until Next Time,

Joy

A Gentle Hello {A Pondering Post}

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I love a rousing hello when I knock on a friend’s door and she calls out, “Come on in!” as if I’m the new best part of her day.

Or if I’m meeting someone for lunch and as I look around I hear, “Joy! We’re over here!” (this one is often partnered with a friendly wave)

And then there are those gentle hellos. . .”

. . .like when Jon calls and says in his gentle way, “Hi, Sweetheart.” That melts my heart every time.

. . .or when Grandma Joy would embrace me in a Topaz (by Avon) and Cornsilk powder scented hug and whisper, “Hello, Child.”

. . .or when Grandma Pater said, “Hello, my honeybunch!”

And today. . .there is the gentle hello of fall.

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Where there’s a bit of gold tucked into the still mostly green in one spot. . .

. . .and another. . .

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And over there some orange. . .

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. . .and over there some red. . .

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. . .and over there a little bit of both.

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And oh the browns.

The ones that hold a double promise – with seeds that will feed the squirrels and birds and just might one day become a tree of their own.

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Or the ones that have their own golden-brown radiance as they hang on because it isn’t their time to be done.

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And then there are the ones that go from green to gold, red, and orange before gently twirling into brown. . .

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Soon, the crispy season’s robust in the colors that will nearly shout summer’s end as they join the chorus heard in the cooler air as it whistles around the house and through the branches, the crunch of fallen leaves beneath my feet, and the call of the migrating Giant Canada Geese.

I love it all, but for today, fall’s hello is gentle and its embrace feels kind. And who doesn’t need a little kindness now and then? I want to wear kindness like the Bible says. To put it on –  not so you all will see me. . .but so you will see God who is kindest one of all.

“Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.” Colossians 3:12 (NIV)

Until Next Time,

Joy

And today. . .there is the gentle hello of fall.#Pondering #FallColors Tweet This
Today, fall’s hello is gentle and its embrace feels kind. And who can’t use a little more #kindess?Tweet This

Hungry {Lessons Learned From God}

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This almost grown up blue jay baby cracked me up, and then reminded me of me.

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This young bird stood on the food she wanted and begged then demanded that her parents feed her. The parent birds stayed hidden in a nearby bush. Their calls to her were gentle as if they were letting her know they were there for her and were cheering her on.

Their child-bird-hollered back at them. I think blue jays stomp their feet with their voices. Sometimes I do too.

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Her parents must have grown tired of her raucous demands because they flew off leaving their stubborn still begging girl sitting on the suet.

She was a bit of a drama queen!

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Finally, she turned to the nourishment at her feet and ate it. Significant portions went down her gullet.  She was hungry!

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So was I. For answers. From God.

My prayer held a bit of jaw-clenched begging, and my internal voice had an edge to it that sounded much like young blue jay.

Day after day I sat out there with my Bible in my lap begging God for answers to my prayers. For direction and hope. I was hungry for His wisdom. I can’t tell you exactly what I was waiting for – not lightening – I wanted the sun to keep shining. Not a voice – that would have scared me silly.

What I did know was that my dreams were dragging, my spirit sagging, and the work I love to do was lagging.

Over the next few minutes, I reminded God of the many ways I was striving for success. I named off the experts and the titles of books I’ve read this summer. Of the business blogs I’ve read (wisdom gathering) and the time I’d invested in learning (knowledge is good) and listening (getting wise counsel) and doing (no just believing for me!).

I heard myself say, “Father! I’m exhausted. And I do not want to waste the rest of the life You’ve given me on discouragement, naps and bad moods!”

Whoa. I said all of that out loud and surprised me a little but like the baby jay, I kept calling, begging, and demanding. “I feel so empty God – feed me! I the energy to do the stuff I’ve learned and to learn more!” It may have sounded like, “Please. Please! Please!!”

I kept going until I ran out of words because knew He wouldn’t leave me like the baby jay’s parents.

He said so.

“Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.” Deuteronomy 31:6 (ESV)

So, I waited. It was my intention to pause briefly and then petition Him yet again. Just as I was gearing up for another “storming heaven” session, two words crossed my mind. “Open it.”

Since my water bottle was already uncapped, I had only one other thing with me that I could open. His Word and now I was clutching it with both hands to my heart the way a drowning woman might hang on to a life preserver in the raging ocean.

It was time to release my grip on my Bible and open it. And that was a little scary too – why couldn’t I just hold it? Couldn’t that be enough? All I wanted was comfort – right?

Nope. It was time to do more than hold on and beg.

Instead of searching for a verse in the concordance on the topic of my choice, I opened to a passage I knew by heart: Isaiah 40. This time instead of reading only the verse (31), I read the whole chapter then returned to the last few verses.

Have you not known? Have you not heard?

The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth.

He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable.

He gives power to the faint, and to him who has no might he increases strength.  Even youths shall faint and be weary, and young men shall fall exhausted;  but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles;  they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.

Isaiah 40:28-31 (ESV)

I read the last part again. The questions, “Have you not known? Have you not heard?” stung my heart more than a little in the best of ways. Because there it was: conviction wrapped in His mercy and love. Yeah – I knew and I’d heard.

A few minutes later, young blue jay came back. So did her parents who sat in the bush and began their training ritual again. This time the young bird pressed her beak quickly into the sun-warmed suet.

I was glad for her and gladder for me.

Because in my sun-warmed chair I’d finally ceased my incessant calling and found the truest of sustenance for my spirit.

Until Next Time,

Joy

A Yearning for Gentle {Friday In Focus}

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Every day when I wake up and after I have savored my first (and maybe my second!) cup of coffee, I make plans to get out to this space ASAP.

It’s here that with my second (or third!) cup of coffee I take my stress to God. And I let the gentle invitation of Jesus words wash over my heart. Because sometimes life hurts with the kind of heaviness that weighs my spirit down and slows my steps.

I know you understand. So does God. That’s why He told us . . .

Matthew 11:28-30 (NIV)

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

Look at all those action words! Come. Take. Learn. Then He promises soul rest and light burdens. It’s like a treasure hunt where the treasure is guaranteed by God!

I feel Jesus beckoning me with His heart wide-open and his hands out-stretched. Not demanding or grabbing or forcing but smiling and hoping I’ll choose to step into His gentleness.

Sometimes it takes me awhile to release the demands of life and let myself settle into the gentle peace bird watching brings to my life. Although the arrival of this young Oriole, whose feathers looked like rich, soft velvet help expedite the process. I hope she brings you as much quiet joy as she did me the other day.

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I keep my phone in my pocket because the news and social media I can so easily get entangled with is full of hatred and shouting and cursing and condemnation and threats. If my family needs me, I’ll answer, but I yearn for quiet, powerful, gentleness in a hungry and thirsty kind of way.

A quote from Max Lucado reinforces the conviction in my heart that the gentleness I long to experience in the world is also my responsibility.

“I choose gentleness. Nothing is won by force. I choose to be gentle. If I raise my voice may it be only in praise. If I clench my fist, may it be only in prayer. If I make a demand, may it be only of myself.”

― Max Lucado

And God agrees.

“Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near.” Philippians 4:5 (NIV)

Breathing in the warm summer air, full of scent of wildflowers, and taking in the Truth of God’s Word with the wise counsel of Max (we all seem to be on a first name basis with him although we’ve never met him!) the tension eases from my jaw and shoulders (and not it’s not the coffee – really!). On this day, it was also the exquisite moment a bumble bee came over a blossom. . .

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And yes, I may have sung, “The bee came over the blossom, the bee came over the blossom, the bee came over the blos—som, to see what he could see. . .” Because suddenly it was that kind of morning.

And the gentle moments were just getting started!

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This little guy hovered in front of my face gently then sat on this branch and watched the other hummers chase each other away from the feeders. As I watched him, I was delighted when I caught him watching me a time or two.

Then, this beautiful blossom dancer caught my eye . . .

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Sometimes when life drains the cup of my spirit with the urgent, I feel guilty for taking this time out for myself and I wonder if it’s selfish. (Okay so my wondering is more like worry.)

That’s when the kind words of Brennan Manning remind me, “The art of gentleness toward ourselves leads to being gentle with others — and is a natural prerequisite for our presence to God in prayer.”

When it was time to get back to the responsibilities waiting for me, I looked back at this quiet, private space and knew that come winter I am going to be homesick for the blossoms, butterflies, bees, and some of the birds (although the sweet juncos come back). But I’ll still be hurrying to this little corner of our great big world (I have a tent I call my photo fort that protects me from some of the bitter cold wind).

I often leave without solutions to my own struggles, and there’s still more chaos than clarity in the world, but a gentle peace that comes from God takes up residence in my heart and I am helped.

And I wonder sometimes – what if that is contagious in a cup overflowing kind of way? Wouldn’t that be so cool? I do love these tender lessons from God.

Philippians 4:6-7 (ESV) “. . . do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”

Until Next Time,

Joy