Thursday, September 9, 2010

Lessons from a man after God's own heart

Over the last year, I've been stretched out of my comfort zone, forcing me to trust in God's provision.  I've trusted God for living situations, relationships, a church family, community, finances, employment, and direction.   Each time something changed, it became more natural to trust God.


However, in going through this so many times, I've become complacent.  It's as if I'm too exhausted to feel the weight of my circumstance, or consider the possible negative outcomes, so I just throw it out there for God to take care of.  Sadly, this "throwing it out there" often neglects time in the Word or in prayer.


This morning I was studying the Psalms and seeing how David handled distress.  What a great example!  Here is a man who was in close relationship with God, had been taken care of time and again, who placed his trust solely in God's word.  Yet his response to trial was not, "God, I'm just trusting You've got this taken care of, so I'm not going to think about it."  He PLEADED and CRIED OUT for the Lord's intervention.  In Psalm 119:147, he writes,



"I rise before dawn and cry for help, I have put my hope in Your word."


I'm re-examining my attitude now.  Am I really seeking God's hand?  Am I really asking for help?  Or am I casually mentioning requests in my prayers on occasion and trusting that God will hear me once and git er done?

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Thoughts from the park

Today, this park is my sanctuary.  This rock, covered in a thick cushion of soft moss, is far more comfortable than any chair I could sit in.  My roof is a thick canopy of green foliage shielding me from the heat of this August afternoon.  Yet, at the same time, it allows the sunlight to peek through and brush me with its fingers.


The waterfall pushes out the noises; the sound of people, the voices of worry in my mind.  Even the sound of the birds is drowned out by the powerful roar.  This waterfall spreads out before me, continuing down as a smooth, clear stream.  Rolling, rolling, rolling on through the park.


I imagine that I am a little girl sitting on the edge of the rock, swinging her feet.  I pick the petals off a flower one by one, dropping them into the water below, letting them drift away with all my worries.


The ferns remind me of Dad and I am happy to be experiencing the place he grew up.  I hope it shapes me like it did him.


What a luxury to sit here, watching leaves gently float through the air to touch the water and continue their journey downstream.  The flow cascades through my heart and soul, washing away my anxiety.  How silly I was to bring my backpack full of things to deal with, decisions to be made, answers to be found.  How foolish to think I would turn this haven into a center of productivity.


To think that God made this beautiful place for us to enjoy and I've ignored it for so long!  Such a glimpse of who He is.  Beauty, majesty, power, healing, calming.  I think of seasons and how nature never resists the change.  Snow is not jealous of summer's warm beaches, spring does not envy the colors of autumn.  Crops do not become frustrated that they are not ready before harvest.  Perhaps this forest has some things to teach me.


God led me to Psalm 1:1-3, which says, "Blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked or stand in the way of sinners or sit in the seat of mockers.  But his delight is in the law of the Lord, and on his law he meditates day and night.  He is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither.  Whatever he does prospers."