Today my devotions led me into quiet places, like Dickens’ countrysides, where contemplation and rest are found. Mark 6:31 says, “Then, because so many people were coming and going that they did not even have a chance to eat, he said to them, ‘Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest.’”
Yet, they also took me to what precedes rest. Paul Horgan says “Every imaginative production must contain some element of risk.” If that is true, what of the unimaginative, the elements of life that drain us of energy, stamina, and resolve? Emily Dickenson comments on this journey.
He — would trust no stranger —
Other — could betray —
Just His own endorsement —
That — sufficeth Me —
All the other Distance
He hath traversed first —
No New Mile remaineth —
Far as Paradise —
His sure foot preceding —
Tender Pioneer —
Base must be the Coward
Dare not venture — now —
Reading this poem I am reminded of my journeys. I am Hezekiah turning to the wall and crying out to God (2 Kings 20:2). Still, my Psalm 23 valleys and my Mount Horebs (1 King 19:1-12) seem trivial. Eden’s communal walks give way to lonely betrayal in Gethsemane. The Tree of Life transforms into a crucifixion crossbeam. The Word’s last words are screamed at His Father’s back. For three days, Life and Death are one in the same. Imagine living in the formlessness of those days—as before God calls out the Light of the World and the unseen Spirit hovers over the deep cavernous expanse of sin’s darkness. Hear the stone cry out as it rolls away! The Gardner replants His feet on the earth and His hands reveal His labor’s wounds.
So, when He asks for hands to harvest (Matthew 9:35-38), I must dig in. Yet, when I weary, I can find Him in the garden, and go to Him alone.
Categories: One Good Thing Every Day 2014
Book Reader and Reviewer
Labrador Retriever Owner
Mother of Three Boys
Quiet Moments (a rare commodity!)
Singer in Church Choir
Wife of My High School Sweetheart
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