“Somewhere we know that without silence words lose their meaning,
that without listening speaking no longer heals,
that without distance closeness cannot cure.”
~ Henri Nouwen
There was every reason to be thankful that morning.
Honestly, I was truly grateful. For everything God has led me through. For everything He’s given me.
Then, why did I feel so weary—inside?
I woke up with my heart a blur with worries.
A competing bevy of voices. All driving me to be tired—and frozen all at the same time.
A wall of decisions stacked up around my heart, all without clarity, as to where one decision would lead, while fearing I’d risk the wrong choice.
God, why can’t You just tell me what to do?
Just tell me. And I’ll be alright.
And I would begin to cry. Because I would feel all alone.
I would feel unreachable.
I wouldn’t know what to do anymore.
When you’re bound by things unknown, your mind can betray you.
We need a deeper restoration.
A soul restoration.
We need more than a plan.
We all need Someone. To stay.
We need Someone to make us stronger. With love.
I need You, Lord.
I need You.
Like raindrops beginning to dot the dirt, I couldn’t stop the need from raining down into my heart, swirling like water gathering strength running into a fresh winter creek bed.
Why can’t I shake this?
I couldn’t see.
I drove toward the mountains to take my morning walk, feeling guilty, unable to stop my heart from slipping into a place of troubled waters.
Autumn has been slowly undressing into winter. The early hours of the morning pulled a blanket of thick mist over the hills.
I couldn’t see but a few steps on the trail.
I couldn’t see where the path would curve.
Follow me. It was a whisper I heard in the breeze, standing there on that barren mountain, cold slipping underneath my wrists into my arms. I didn’t bring my gloves.
I heard God speak to me, the same way you hear the love in your child’s voice when he looks at you, his eyes clear like the lake glimmering at sunset.
It’s the same way you hear the love in your husband’s voice when he says your name, when the stars are shining outside your bedroom window and there is nothing else in the world but the sound of your heart beating next to his.
I know you’re tired.
I know you’re weary.
Don’t be afraid.
I want you to set your heart free. To choose.
I realize that I often look for a plan—in order to secure my peace.
But God doesn’t offer us a plan. He may have a plan, but we don’t get to know that plan. That wouldn’t require any faith.
The only certainty I’m beginning to understand I’ll ever have in this life is in the Person who has always held me, before I ever woke up to His Presence: Jesus.
Jesus doesn’t lead us by a plan.
He sees our scars. He leads us by His love.
God guides us with His presence.
Jesus gently puts His hand on my heart and tells me:
Don’t hide what worries you. Bring it all to me.
Let me make you stronger . . . stronger . . .
Stronger with my love.
This week—as you step into the final days before the wonderful memories you’ll be working hard to create with your loved ones—find some time.
Find some spiritual whitespace.
Breathe and let your heart speak.
Find the beauty of what touches your heart—a song, a paintbrush, a walk, a guitar, a cry on your bed, a fresh page in your journal, a candle, a look at the stars through your window at night—in whatever space that is quiet and intimately yours.
Meet with just you and God.
By the One who sees you. All of you.
Listen to Him gently whisper to you:
You are so good.
At holding others close to your heart.
And putting them first. Even at the expense of your own peace.
I want you to look at Me.
Let Me really look at you.
Lay down your burden.
And the expectations you’ve been carrying.
Lay them all down.
And lean into Me.
Wait and watch the fire that needs to die, die.
Now, watch Me make a fire. Here. In your heart.
Wait. Watch me kindle the flame you thought had extinguished.
Feel the warmth return to your heart.
Stop. Let Me hold on to you.
Stay. Let My arms hold you close.
Let me love you.
I’ll never leave you. I’ll never change.
Wait and watch My love for you grow wild.
This love, kindreds, leads us on a journey to a Happy Thanksgiving—a real Thanksgiving—marked by God’s love growing wild, like a fire, aflame in our hearts.
What is on your heart in these final days leading up to Thanksgiving Day?
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If there is anything in this quiet moment you can convey to God, stop right now.
Confide in Him. As friend to friend.
Right where you are. As is.
Written by Bonnie Gray, the soulful Faith Barista, serving up shots of faith for the daily grind.Leave a Comment