Heather Holleman's Blog, page 132

No Parade. No Pies. But We Were Free.

For the first time, we didn’t travel down to the Boalsburg Memorial Day. We didn’t eat hot dogs from the Boy Scouts, listen to the band, or watch the dancers in square. We didn’t eat winning pies from the annual pie contest. We didn’t wander the streets and greet all our friends and neighbors.

But we were free. I was free to read my Bible. I was free to cultivate the land around the home we own. I was free to walk outside. I was free to listen and watch what I wanted to, if I wanted to. I don’t take this for granted.

My daughter made an apple pie from a recipe she learned how to make from her 6th grade teacher all those years ago. Sarah was free to learn and go to school. My husband grilled the hot dogs and worked in the garden as a nice break from the work of building our online summer mission for graduate students. He is free to talk about Jesus without persecution. I don’t take any of it for granted. I put the flag out. I cut watermelon. I cleaned the corn. Every year, it’s a simple life, and this one seems even more pared down. And it never felt more free.

I am so thankful that others lost their lives so I can live like this.

Settle Down. Plant.

Because I’m spending so much time gardening, I’m tending to notice all of the gardening imagery in the Bible. It all began with Jeremiah–a book I read last week as part of my chronological reading plan (which I highly recommend!). I was beginning to make all sorts of comparisons to our current reality as a form of living in exile. Jeremiah writes a letter to encourage the Israelites during their exile to Babylon.

In chapter 29, Jeremiah offers simple instructions to those living far from their ideal situation. He says this: “Build houses and settle down; plant gardens and eat what they produce.”

Settle down. Plant gardens.

And I did. These past ten weeks, I settled down and planted a garden. Then, as I finished Zechariah this morning, I noted this beautiful promise of God about His people. He says, “The seed will grow well, the vine will yield its fruit, the ground will produce its crops, and the heavens will drop their dew. . Do not be afraid, but let your hands be strong” (8:12-13). I think about how the blessing of God had so much to do with planting and harvesting and the fruitful reward of joyful work. Garden has felt like a connection to an ancient pathway to an original blessing.

I also let the weeding and planting and the growing and the harvesting symbolize all the blessings of God: that truth planted in the heart does grow and produce fruit.

Walk After Rain

My friend and walking partner told me that a beautiful mist had settled over Spring Creek. It was evening–nearing 8:00 PM–but my oldest daughter and I ventured out with umbrellas and hats to walk along the creek just as the rain stopped. I wanted to walk along a misty creek just for the enchanted feeling of it.

The creek did not disappoint, even in the rain. I remembered that some gifts only come through rainy seasons. Yes, the rain came, but it also brought the mist. It cooled the humid air so rapidly that water droplets stayed suspended over the creek. The enchanted look of it was a form of something being held in place, still and quiet, until the temperature warmed again.

Little By Little (Again)

I know I’ve reflected on the concept of little by little growth and little by little living. But today, I think of it again as I’m building a new course for the Honor’s College at Penn State. Because no one can predict what will happen yet in the fall semester, I’m designing week-by-week modules where students can access everything they need remotely. Each week features key objectives, the homework for the week, the things to read and watch, and discussions to post. It’s a laborious task. Each week takes a long time to build, so when you think of sixteen weeks, it’s overwhelming.

But it’s not overwhelming if you simply build day-by-day. The day-by-day turns into the week-by-week, and soon, the whole thing works. But each time I sit at my desk, I tell myself that I only need to build little-by-little, maybe even only one week a day.

It’s how I weeded the garden. It’s how I even clean the kitchen. I have to start in a really small space, do that thing, and move on to the next really small thing. And it all adds up to finishing the Big Thing–whatever that thing is.

So start small today. Do a tiny little bit.

Living Off the Land

I weeded for DAYS and DAYS! And I loved it. I now have a beautiful little backyard garden with cucumber, beans, tomatoes, eggplant, basil, Brussels sprouts, peppers, dill, parsley, and chives.

I’ve learned to stay rooted to the place God puts you. In my case, it’s Pennsylvania. Here, people do indeed live off the land. They garden and hunt. They pickle and preserve. They store and freeze. I’m slowly learning the ways of the Gardener.

It’s been joyful. And now, I dwell more and more in hope as I water the garden and wait for the harvest.

Mature and Complete

This morning, I remembered James 1:4-5. Look at this in light of your situation today:

Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you.

James 1:4-5

I find myself thankful that God does indeed build maturity and a sense of being “complete,” but I couldn’t help but ask God if He could bring to my mind areas within my life that are “incomplete” or “immature.” Immediately, I think of then asking God for wisdom to grow in those things that come to mind.

The spiritual exercise was so helpful that I just had to share it!

In prayer, think for a few minutes: What feels incomplete? What feels immature? What feels lacking? Where do I now need more wisdom to grow in these areas? Ask the Lord for the wisdom you need.

There’s Something About the Buttercups by the Creek

What joyful little flowers!

I Did See the Owls

I saw the Great Horned Owl! I saw the mother and the baby. What I learned as we walked through the woods with my friend was this: you need a guide.

The guide tells you what to look for and how to see what you don’t know how to see. When you’re in the dark woods, you can’t be alone. In my case, the guide taught us how to find the owls and how to follow the cries of the black birds who often cry out when an owl is near. He taught us where to place our vision. He taught us how to listen.

In fact, near the end of the evening, the guide cupped his ears to hear the faint but persistent cries of baby woodpeckers in the hole in the tree. I cried out, “This night keeps getting better and better!”

Living with flair means finding an expert to teach you, especially in spiritual matters. It means having a mentor who has traveled the dark path before you and can teach you what to look for and how to see. The guide opens your heart to marvels you never knew how to find and didn’t even know were available to you in a life hidden in Christ.

They’ll help you see: it just gets better and better.

The Owl (as seen in the woods by my house)

I didn’t take this picture. My friend John Mackin did. Ashley and I shall join him this evening to see if I can view this owl myself. But meanwhile, just knowing he’s there–that such marvelous creatures exist–thrills my heart!

Hope and Comfort in a Name of God–Jehovah Shammah

I finally successfully waded through the book of Ezekiel as part of my chronological Bible reading plan. I haven’t studied this book in years. I texted my friend Kelly to ask her how she handles all the destruction and sadness of a people now in captivity who suffer so much for their disobedience to God. We discover a holy God and the high cost of sin. We discover all God will do to purify the heart. She tells me to keep reading, that it’s worth it. And she’s right. By the end of Ezekiel, I learn a special name of God:

Jehovah Shammah–The Lord is There.

Even in captivity, The Lord is There. Even in sickness, The Lord is There. Even in any situation–no matter how terrible–what matters is The Lord is There. He is with us, near, and fully present. He is active, attentive, and helping. He is comforting; He is strengthening. And as I think about the coming Savior who is Immanuel–God with us–I understand how The Lord is There becomes an indwelling experience by the Holy Spirit. It’s a sublime moment to consider: Right here, right now, The Lord is There. Jehovah-Shammah!

I realize this: I’d rather be in captivity or sick with Jesus than without Him. I’d rather be anywhere, in any kind of pain if God is there. And I don’t need to fear the future if The Lord is There. I don’t need to worry about my body if The Lord is There.

Where is our “there” that feels so hopeless and sad? What “there” do we fear most? We don’t have to live in this kind of despair because the Lord is “There.”

The Lord is There. I worship Him as Jehovah Shammah.