Thanksgiving is a great holiday of feasting together with friends and family and imperfect people, of which we all are.
Wear something new into an old situation. Enlarge your wardrobe. Reach deep for the unexpected.
Tie on that red scarf of courage. Dress in layers, grace upon grace, encouragement upon encouragement, unexpected and caring responses in volatile situations.
And underneath it all -- because it will show through the most-- put on love.
Don't leave home without it.
It was a hard upward struggle yesterday afternoon. I had chosen to run my hilly course, so familiar now that my brain doesn't even have to think about the turns in the road.
The asphalt was broken into chunks in places. Cracks appeared like a strange map across the pavement, leading to nowhere we have been before. Potholes gave birth to even more potholes. Even the edges of the road were beginning to disintegrate into the gravel.
And on my heart were so many people I know right now who are struggling with life, choices they have made, choices they never made, decisions and incidents beyond their control. We are all falling apart, it appears. But why are we surprised in this fallen, broken world.
My head was down, contemplating the grey, shattered road, trying not to trip.
After a particularly hard ascent, in which I thought about stopping and just walking the rest of the route, leaves began to appear beneath my feet, thousands and thousands of leaves, so deep that I couldn't help but notice them. Indeed, I was shuffling through them, a myriad of shapes and colors and textures, like every created day of our lives, heaped up into something beautiful.
And then, I raised my eyes from the hard broken places. God was trying to get my attention.
My mother had a condition called synesthesia in which when she heard or played music, she saw colors, as if her senses blended seamlessly into each other. When I looked up and saw the fellowship of trees clamoring around me, I could almost hear them singing.
Then shall all the trees of the forest sing for joy before the LORD, for He comes... Psalm 96. 12
...the mountains and the hills before you shall break forth into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands. Isaiah 55. 12
And the wonder before me literally stopped me in my tracks. It was a sanctuary. This is what glory of the LORD must resemble in some small way. And how much do we miss because we are not looking, acknowledging, recognizing, not just His hand, but His Presence all around us?
God designed us to recognize beauty. God wired us to recognize Him. God paves our way with His faithfulness. Even in what we cannot yet see beyond the turns in the road.
This is the LORD's doing; it is marvelous in our eyes. This is the day that the LORD has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it. Psalm 118. 23-24
This very day. Not just in the yesterdays. Or tomorrow. But now.
We make a conscious choice to be glad in it, not just on days of blue skies or circumstances favorable in our sight or when we feel like it. But a grateful heart is observant and doesn't miss a thing, even in what we can't understand. Because we can trust Him through it. A glad heart sees things differently, a tool in our toolbox for how we will lead the rest of our lives day by day and be fully equipped to help others.
Every day that we make a choice to rejoice strengthens us for what is yet to come. I don't have to know the journey-- nor the outcome --to know God is good and His steadfast love endures forever. That changes my vision. That changes my heart. Even in this mess, this broken world, these incessant potholes.
I shuffled through the leaves like the days of my life. And realized that the trees are still full of them, not one drifts down to join the others that God does not know about it. His beauty is not just entrenched in the colors of the season or the impenetrably blue sky, but every day.
The day was just a glimpse of what He has made. A day that He walks with us. The uphills don't have to be a battle. The potholes are mere craters to avoid. The brokenness is only temporary. This is not the end of the story. But right in the midst of His redeeming.
This is marvelous in our eyes. And we have not even snatched a glimpse yet.
We have reduced so much of life to what we see as practical, useful, and productive. Stay on task. Get something done. Carpe Diem. Don't waste it.
We have indeed also reduced God in our minds the same way by focusing on His work, His timing, His plans and purposes, His designs, His provisions, and His answers to our prayers -- what is useful and efficient and what we deem as fruitful.
But in that utilitarian view, we miss the wonders. It is often in the inefficiencies when nothing appears to be happening that we become most aware of the presence of God.
In God's sight, inefficiencies may not be so insignificant at all. All through Scripture, God calls His people to listen, to watch, and to wait. Paying attention is never a waste of time.
God speaks to us in the most unlikely places and unexpected situations. Our "inefficiencies"-- that pointless task, that waiting for a package that doesn't come, the bread that did not rise, the people who did not show up, an arduous task that deflated like a flat tire -- are sometimes the places of hearing Him more clearly.
The most frustrating inefficiencies in our day may be the most fruitful part of it. God's designs linger far beyond our lifetimes or our comprehension.
As a shy little girl, I hung out a lot with my grandmother who lived with us. God wove deep spiritual growth through those very ordinary moments. My grandmother was busy from dawn until past my bedtime, and I often wondered if she slept at all. But she always left an all-present margin for conversation in the quietness of just being together or working side by side. Her faith in God and His faithfulness to her just kind of bubbled out of her.
I consciously remember only fragments of what she said to me. But what lingers --and still impacts me-- was her "inefficient" use of time. In those little interruptions of mine, wandering into her room with my unceasing questions, she didn't view as disruptions but as scattered intermissions in what she was working on. And somehow she saw the profound significance in those inopportune moments when she had a myriad of things to do, could have produced that which appeared tangible, and she would have something to show for her day.
Which she did after all, because she gave me her time and attention. She did her work, but was not distracted from what really mattered. And that is what I still carry with me.
A whole new day is stretched out before each one of us, full of appointments, urgencies and big rocks in the middle of our paths. We want to glorify God, to be faithful, get things done, and fulfill His purposes.
But we miss the point if we restrict Him to our practical and tangible accomplishments, or limit ourselves to a check-it-off-the-list kind of day. We still need to be responsible and get our work done. But all the while, God calls us to "Abide with Me" through it. And that is never an inefficient use of time, work or being, but a joy that lingers and lasts forever.
He is before all things,
and in Him all things
hold together.
Colossians 1. 17
I knew it was coming -- that first 30 degree morning run of the season. I dreaded it. It's going to be cold! I didn't want to go. I was stuck on the inside looking out.
But I also knew that if I am going to run at all this winter, I needed to get out there. I just had to remember how to dress for it. By the end of the winter, I will again know the right combinations for each temperature--whether 20 degrees or 50 -- a t-shirt under a long-sleeve, when to wear a jacket, gloves or even a hat. Those who embark on outdoor adventures know what matters most is not the plummeting temperatures or harsh weather but how you approach it by what you wear. Wisdom is embedded by experience. Dress in layers and get out there.
God's Word talks a lot about what to wear to any occasion and in all circumstances. Not just the red scarf of courage, but layers of love and grace and pockets full of kindness to give away. Not armor to wear to a disaster, but forgiveness and a compassionate heart, even on the every days in the neighborhood, even in the unexpected, even in the most unlikely places. God shows us how to get unstuck by preparing us and equipping us beyond the phantoms of our dread so that we may respond to His nudges.
Put on then, as God's chosen ones, holy and beloved,
compassionate hearts, kindness, humility,
meekness, and patience,
bearing one another,
and if one has a complaint against another,
forgiving each other,
as the Lord has forgiven you,
so you also must forgive.
And above all these
put on love,
which binds everything together
in perfect harmony.
Colossians 3. 12-14
And so this brisk morning, I pulled an old long-sleeve from the bottom of my drawer, found my fleece still hanging on the hook, grabbed a thin pair of mittens just in case, and headed out to the frosty park. I ran outside my comfort zone. Not surprisingly, it was far better than I could have imagined-- a beautiful and refreshing experience outside with crisp cold air, a mosaic of colorful leaves on the path, and under the canopy of a sheer blue sky. I am so grateful I did not miss that. I did not just endure. In getting out--even in my reluctance-- God gave me exactly what I needed. Obedience to God brings with it strength for today in whatever I will face and bright hope for the days ahead. Not the world's "you can do it." But God's "I am with you."
Our circumstances may stay the same. But I can approach what is on my path with a new heart and mind, no matter the conditions. What am I wearing into this situation? And am I walking with Him?
We all struggle with things a lot scarier, riskier, more consequential and overwhelming than a cold morning run. But we need not be paralyzed by them. God never promised that life in this broken world would be easy, but gave us His Word over and over again, "Do not be afraid. I am with you." We are not alone. And He embraces us with His strength and grace.
The key to getting unstuck is to trust God, dress in layers, and get out there, choosing to get out of the miry bog --or just out the door --by even taking one step, and then another. His faithfulness covers us, even in our scary places. Just do something. Trust Him in this.
God will surprise you.
