Through the Stillness

I glanced out a window and noticed the fog thickened air; it filtered the sun’s rays to the extent that the usual colors of my surroundings faded. The red basketball rim turned black. The yellow and orange autumn leaves diminished to gray. The sun resting, not pushing, but waiting for the fog to lift as it simply followed the rhythm of Creation.

Out another window a different view was revealed. The fog still present. This time with color remaining, but only up close. Further in the distance the colors faded and faded some more until all I saw was the same color-looting fog thickened air as before. The trees and plants showed me just as the sun did in my first window. They too were simply following the rhythm of Creation.

I couldn’t help but wonder. What if we chose to do the same?

What if we used the fog as a sign for our weary minds stay close to home,

the Autumn a time to let go of yesteryear?

The snow a reminder to slow down our way too busy lives,

the Winter a time to examine His voice over our own?

The thunderstorm to see His sovereignty in our seemingly chaotic world,

the Spring to allow God’s truth and word to grow in us.

The blue skies and warm air to enjoy the blessing of others,

and the Summer to move us toward His ultimate plan.

Really and truly though, what if we also realized the different views are there, not to grow our impatience, but to prove He is working in each of us in His own way for our own good and in His perfect time according to the beautiful and intentional rhythms of His creation and not our own?

When I was a little girl, I wanted to fly.

I’d close my eyes and picture the sky…

A bright sun to bring me warmth,

and soothing clouds for much needed shade.

Since this was all in my own little mind,

I created big sparkly stars in the daytime sky.

While I was at it, I thought why not?

I’ll transform into a cute pink pig.

No, no, no!

Not a pig. Pigs don’t even fly!

What shall I be then?

I must be pink.

I must fly! I must fly so very high!

I want to be magical too, you see.

Oh wait, a unicorn flies!

Oh yes, a unicorn I must be.

Horn? Check!

Wings? Double check!

Unicorns can lie in the lush green grass.

Unicorns can also fly high in the sky!

Many days I got lost in my mind.

I got lost in my magical sky.

Something was always missing though.

Something was never quite right.

All of it seemed so perfect.

But! None of it was real.

It was just my way to escape.

There was no real magic in that!

The real magic exists in my imperfect life,

learning to live with the good and the bad.

I never really needed a magical sky to fly.

(In honor of national reading month, I wrote a story for my mentee based off a picture she made.)

It isn’t always easy, you know, and I know,

living a life that pulls you to the in between.

Voting confidently one way,

and yet knowing it isn’t the only way.

Living one way and yet knowing,

we must stand arms wide open in the in between.

It is hard to accept, you know, and I know,

this life of being both sinner and saint.

We know what is right but yet we too fall short.

The utter pain and the relentlesss yearning,

to escape the brokenness that we all create.

How weary it is in this time of the in between.

We are to stand strong and admit we’re quite faint

as we show love with both truth and grace.

Point them to more and meet them where they’re at.

Be inclusive at our tables and share the exclusive fact:

There’s a loving Savior who died for us and for them.

Let’s give them the hope, show them the beauty, in the in between.

What would our lives look like if we lived as though God loves us?

If we live as though we’ve surrendered to how wide, long, and deep His love is,

If we embrace the Mary in us who yearns to stop and sit at His feet,

Instead of the Martha who struggles to stop and grasp Him.

Suppose we could accept that He accepts us just as we are,

But doesn’t want us to stay just as we are,

Because He knows the true us He created us to be.

What would our lives look like if we loved as though God loved us?

If we strive to see others through the lens of His wide, long, and deep love,

If we understand their Martha who aches for love and affirmation,

And lead them to their Mary who doesn’t hesitate to sit in His presence.

Suppose we help them accept His love just as they are,

But they don’t want to stay just as they are,

Because our love, through His love, shows them who they’re created to be.

I took this picture while on vacation in Wisconsin. It makes me think of how we are supposed to be a reflection of God’s love. Just as the sky is imperfectly reflected on the water, we will never be capable of fully reflecting God’s love. It doesn’t mean it isn’t beautiful and captivating.

What if we began to believe this? Not just for ourselves, but for others as well. It’s easy to accept our own imperfections and to know when the rough waters arise we naturally reflect less. We tend to be harder on others. Don’t we?

When their glimpses of God fade instead of shimmer, we act as though it isn’t there at all. We take it personal instead of pulling them on our boat or sitting with them through their storm. We tell others about their murky water. Then all the others begin to see is the murkiness you pointed out.

What if we began to help still the waters instead of creating more wake? Just imagine for a moment. We’d see more of God’s reflection in them and they’d see more of Him in ours.