Still. Still. Still.

Still

 #oneword2018

(Verses inspired by the Austrian carol/lullaby, ‘Still, Still, Still’, as played by The Piano Guys.)

Still. Still. Still.

Come away and rest in My love.

No longer scramble; grasp hold of my hand.

Climb up next to Me in My light.

All that you bear is not yours to carry.

Trade yours for Mine for My yoke is light.

Still. Still. Still.

Come away and rest in My love.

Still. Still. Still.

All I ask you to give is your time.

Turn aside from demands and allow Me to love you.

You're tired and you're weary, I see.

Sit in the stillness; listen for My voice.

Quiet your soul and just breathe so deep.

Still. Still. Still.

Come away and be quiet with Me.

Day 6 - Lent 2017 - Isaiah 11:10 - Resting place

"Then in that day, the nations will resort to the root of Jesse who will stand as a signal for the peoples; and His resting place will be glorious." Isaiah 11:10

The root of Jesse = Jesus = resting place. The grammar may not work exactly, but that's how I read this.  Jesus - visible above the fray. I'm assuming that his resting place is the place where Jesus is. And it is glorious.

With Jesus - the place where Jesus is - is rest.  I'm in a weary place, and I can't imagine anything more glorious than a resting place.  No time limits. No fatigue. No rising anxiety because of all that needs doing or all who need something from me.

If the person is a place then that place is infinitely accessible.  If Jesus himself is the resting place, and if Jesus himself is with me, then I can be in a glorious resting place any day, any time.

I get there by reaching for his presence.  I don't need to find God; He is already here.  I need to pause, to listen, and to reach.

Awake my Soul

Coming home from a retreat is often a slam back to reality.  And even the most profound insights get lost under the laundry, dirty dishes and to do lists.  This retreat was all about incorporating rest or whitespace into daily life in very practical ways, and I'm determined to follow through and pursue the presence of God through whitespace.

It's seems somewhat ironic to me that the method to awaken my soul is to be quiet! Noise to me is not just about sound but about inputs.  Noise can be words, can be social media, can be email and can also be people asking me questions, can be the radio or can be TV.  Quiet for me is closing down those input, and that is what brings me rest.

The other day I realized I was in a room alone and could anticipate an hour free from interruptions.  Instead of grading chemistry tests, checking email, or working on the project due by the end of the week, I indulged in meditating on scripture via the WordSwag app.  At first I felt guilty, but then I realized that reading and re-reading the words, choosing a photo for the background, and switching out fonts until I found one with the right 'feel' allowed me to dwell on the verses in a different way.  The resulting images speak to my soul.  The process gifted me with 30 minutes of unexpected soul rest.

Resolutions 2015

Rests: Essential for Music, Essential for Me

Today I did something that epitomizes my personality and yet would seem unfathomable to my husband. Stopping at Sonic with my little philosopher to get a Dr. Pepper and a grape slush (which is unfathomable in itself to my husband who does not drink soft drinks,) we heard a heard a high school band practicing near us. My son, an 8 year old homeschooler, had never seen a marching band, and we enjoyed listening while waiting for our drinks. As we left, the band played the opening measures of Beethoven's Fifth, and a voice chimed from the back seat, "Oh, I love that song!" Stopped at the edge of the parking lot, I made an impulsive turn to the right and right again, into the parking lot in front of the band.
Yes, we still need to get gas and supper before picking up the boy scout, the princess, and Dad in order to race downtown to spend a few hours at the State Fair of Texas. But for a few moments we roll down the windows and breathe. With the little philosopher glued to the window closest to the band slurping his slushy, we enjoy the fits and starts as they practice different sections and finally play through the song.
I'm frazzled today. I slept in, so many things were left undone. We left the house at 3 pm needing to have everything for an orthodontist appointment, dance class and the Fair, including a change of clothes for Dad and empty Dr. Pepper cans so we can get in with a discount. (See, I knew drinking Dr. Pepper was good for something!) I'm angry, frustrated, fearful I forgot something, and fed up with myself. I should be more balanced, more together, more in control.
But our 15 minutes in the parking lot is like a full rest in a measure of music. The pause, the break is as important as the notes around it. So it is with every day. My breaks don't need to be complicated events. I'm listening to high school musicians in rehearsal repeating the same measures over and over. But my spirit is lightened because I stopped. I paused. I rested.
The band ends with "Ode to Joy," extra-special to me because it's the song I walked down the aisle to at my wedding. We drive off, windows still down to hear the last strains as long as possible. I have tears in my eyes, but my heart is lighter. Every day, like every song, requires rest.