Tuesday, March 11, 2008

Our backyard resembles a topographical map. In an effort to refrain from exaggeration, I’ve given the ranges such appropriate names as the Himalayan and Andes Mole Hills. Either our neighborly rodents have become archeologists or they should cut down on the caffeine.

Winter must have finally given in and curled up for hibernation. While raking leaves from the front of the house, I kept popping into the house to gulp some water—some golden water, I might add. The ground is still soggy enough to leave our well-water slightly colorful, even after draining through our Burkey filter. Hauling logs over rivulets that danced through the woods brought on the first tingle of being hot.

It seems to my vivid imagination that somehow Papa is holding my hand tighter and even lingering over it during meal-time prayers and his blue eyes shine with a greater tenderness. Has something about me changed? Or is it him? Our relationship has come full circle, through toil and tears, awkwardness and confusion, back to the trust I had when I was my father’s source of joy.

When Rib-eye and Hamburger, excuse me, Lin N and Emily, read Lydia’s testimony they decided on immediate action. A short time later they burst into our house laden with roses, smiles and congratulations. Lindsey hasn’t been here since before Christmas break, due to teacherly studies, but it was just like old times, watching them write an elaborate story in the guestbook, while they giggled and whispered behind their hands. Something about Emily brings out the giggles in everyone I know. Including me.

Becoming irritated with the Israelite’s grumbling invariably guides me into repentance for my own grumbling. “Give us meat to eat!” they whined, “All we have is this bread…this heavenly food. We’re tired of it.” Jesus is the bread that came down from heaven, but I often whine to the Lord, “Look at all the entertainment I had back in Egypt, now it’s just Your word. And these books of Moses, Lord, they’re boring!” Only boring because the eyes of my heart lack depth-perception. Again the Lord revealed His power and His faithfulness when he gave them meat to eat. “Where will you find food for all these people?” Moses demanded, much like the disciples did when Jesus broke the loaves and fish. Yahweh’s answer: “Is My power limited? Now you shall see whether My word will come true or not.” He provided so abundantly that the people ate greedily and many died from a plague.

Today the Lord led me through green pastures and quiet waters, bidding me lie down and wait in peace, sending abundant promises on the wings of hope. I’d rather be up running around in circles, tripping in mole-hills, dancing in the sunshine—anything rather than sitting still. I run to the woods and keep running, when I should stop, drop and pray. He put my life back in perspective as I sped along, reminding me of those without hope, those in other countries where every day merely living is a hazard, and then of His Son, who suffered more in anticipation in the garden than I could ever fear suffering. Why am I afraid? Why do I insist, “I can’t handle this!” when the Lord is faithful to keep all His promises? “All things work together for good to those who love God.” Do I love God? As purely as a broken and confused little girl can. I’ll enjoy the moments of quiet refreshing now, reflecting on the Lord’s faithfulness to those before me, instead of allowing myself to dread all those future things I don’t understand.

Indeed, my heritage is beautiful.

Lord, I will rejoice in Thee
For Thou wilt not abandon me!
An orphan I shall never be—
Thou wills to me, Thyself.

So, when Thou heard my mournful cry
Thou sent Thy only heir to die
To execute Thy will, and I
Inherited Thyself.

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