I was scrolling through Facebook and almost missed it.

Beautiful waves crashing on the shore; a peek of sunshine breaking through the clouds.

The Gulf is normally quiet and sedate. Often the waves lap at your ankles. But not today. Today the waves are crashing on top of each other; rows of them colliding; white caps in the distance. I can hear them from the back of the house calling me to come see.

I feel like I am beside the Atlantic instead of beside the Gulf.

Suddenly what my old classmate is doing is not nearly as interesting as what God is doing right outside my window.

O Lord, our Sovereign, how majestic is your name in all the earth! Psalm 8:9.

Powerful and majestic, these waves can change landscapes, change views, call us away from our earthly pursuits to witness God’s power in the wind.

Is this not the way of God and His Spirit?

Like the wind pushing the waves against each other, crashing them onto the shore, so the Spirit of God can come into our world unseen and alter our landscape, change our view.

Majestic and powerful, full of energy and strength, the Spirit of God can move across the waters of our life and change us. His Spirit can make us mighty waves instead of timid ripples.

And to think I may have missed it!

Ever since the creation of the world his eternal power and divine nature, invisible thought they are, have been understood and seen through the things he has made. Romans 1:20.

Nature, God’s handiwork, is full of such beautiful reminders of God’s nature. Beautiful sunrises and sunsets, intricate flowers and might oaks, powerful winds and gentle streams, God is constantly reminding us of His creativity, His wisdom, His attention to detail, His care for all of His creation.

And to think I may have missed it, distracted by worldly concerns and entertainments.

I do not have to be at the beach to see the majesty of God.

God shows me His majesty in the fat snowflakes, the glistening ice, the hardy winter flowers, the bright sun in a blue sky. God shows me His love in rain that replenishes the earth and prepares the ground for the approaching spring.

Soon we will observe Lent. Perhaps I need to fast from Facebook, from 24-hour news outlets, from political commentary. Perhaps I need to commit to spending more time admiring God’s handiwork – His sky, His clouds, His trees, His wind.

Soon it will be time to prepare for the sugar snaps, for the spring garden, for warmer weather and longer days.

Soon these strong winds in the Gulf will subside and gentle ankle-lapping waves will return.

I am so grateful I am here right at this moment to see these wonderful waves. I am so grateful that God called me to see His majesty and revel in his majestic might.

What a gift that He has shown us His eternal power and divine nature through His creation. What a gift that He makes the wind blow which makes the trees sway and the waves crash.

The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit. John 3:8.

I pray you take the opportunity to see God in action outside your window today. The wind is blowing; He is at work. You may need to put down your cell phone and turn off the TV. I did. But what a reward!

Beautiful waves crashing on the shore; a peek of sunshine breaking through the clouds.

Yours, O Lord, are the greatness, the power, the glory, the victory, and the majesty; for all that is in the heavens and on the earth is yours; yours is the kingdom, O Lord, and you are exalted as head above all. 1 Chronicles 29:11.

The last two weeks of January were my late husband’s least favorite weeks of the year. We usually headed south for a change in scenery. It’s a hard habit to break, even though I have had to learn to go on my own.

The beach in January is a magical place. I feel no need to sit on the beach and work on my tan or catch the cooling ocean breezes. My swimsuit does not make the trip. No rowdy young adults are pursuing spring break history. It’s just us old folks and a few equally old canines.

Slow walks on the beach in a sweatshirt, meals scattered throughout the day, relaxing hours on the porch watching the waves and seagulls and dolphins.

Rest.

My garden needs it. The earth needs it. I need it. Sometimes, all we need to fix our problems is to turn off our life, wait a little while, then turn it back on again.

January seems the perfect time for that.

Jesus said to them, “Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while.” Mark 6:31

After the hubbub of the holidays, after the excitement of making new plans, before I lose the excuse of bad weather, I need to shut down and rest.

I don’t know why God created us to need rest, but it seems He did.

Perhaps it is in rest that we are able to hear His voice. Perhaps it is in rest that we slow down enough to contemplate what we read in scripture, meditate on what we see in His creation, look for His hand in action.

We can have that rest and see His hand in 8” of snow, but I would rather take my rest on a deserted beach and see His hand in the ocean waves.

The quiet can be a bit unnerving, but it allows me, even forces me, to focus on things too easily hidden by busyness and noise.

On the glorious splendor of your majesty, and on your wonderous works, I will meditate. Psalm 145:5.

Who knows what seeds God is putting down in this quiet time of rest. Who knows how the Spirit within me is communing with the Spirit above to mold me into a new creation? God knows. God knows that we need these quiet times for Him to transform us. God knows I need this quiet time of rest to delight in the Lord.

Happy are those who do not follow the advice of the wicked, or take the path that sinners tread, or sit in the seat of scoffers; but their delight is in the law of the Lord. And on his law they meditate day and night. They are like trees planted by streams of water, which yield fruit in its season, and their leaves do not wither. Psalm 1:1-3.

What a lovely image for the people of God – trees with an endless supply of fresh water, yielding fruit, not withering under the stress of heat and time. Not bustling around or uprooted by storms or changing winds. Using the life-giving water of God to bear fruit that benefits others and carries the seeds for other trees.

Would I take the time to think about the beauty of what God is growing in believers if I did not take the time to rest? Or would I be busy stressing over the election….

Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. Philippians 4:8.

Thinking on these things sounds like rest, feels like rest. And that is rest that I can find any and every day, in the heat of the summer, in 8” of snow, or on a quiet beach.

Rest, and let your roots find streams of His life-giving water.

Grief came to visit today. As I was planning my garden, planning my trip, cleaning my house, grief came.

I miss Nick. I miss my best friend, my confidant, my lover. I miss his honesty, his support, his demands on my time. Would he approve of the choices I am making?

Am I just pursuing activities to keep this grief at a distance? Like an oozing wound, this grief begs to be re-covered. Plan for a trip, write a book, take some classes, work in the garden. Keep my hands and my mind busy. But like the weeds that work their way to the edges of the garden and burst from the edges of the cardboard, grief is forcing its way into the light.

Is grief, like fear, a sign of lagging faith?

Not faith that Nick is in a better place; I feel quite confident that he is complete now in a way he could never be on earth. But faith that I can move forward emotionally without him. Faith that God is directing my steps.

I look back on the past four and a half years and know that God has moved me to an unknown land, parted the seas, taught me new skills, changed me. Dare I say improved me? There was a time I thought I had lost my enthusiasm forever, but God has given me new opportunities, new hopes, new dreams. But with those come doubts, and with the doubts, grief. I miss my old life. I miss Nick. I was comfortable revolving my life around his. I liked our life together. Our times at the beach, our times on the lake, our times in the garden.

Whew! I need to shake this off. Clean the wound, reapply the bandage. I had wanted to write about ordering a raspberry bush with no knowledge if they would grow here. I had wanted to write about the beauty of being able to try again with the fig plant since I killed the one last year. I had wanted to write about the importance of research and learning and leaning on the knowledge of others.

Thus says the Lord: Stand at the crossroads, and look, and ask for the ancient paths, where the good path lies; and walk in it and find rest for your souls. Jeremiah 6:16.

Perhaps God in His wisdom is telling me that I can apply this to my grief as well as to my raspberry bush.

I remember the books our congregational care committee sent after Nick’s death. I remember the grief counseling our Associate Pastor led. I remember the tears the group of us shed as we tried to come to terms with our new reality. God has held my hand and moved me from that place to this. But once more I feel I am standing at a crossroads looking for the good path. I want to walk in it and find rest for my grieving soul.

There are ancient paths the Lord can show me. Grief is nothing new. Moving on with life after the loss of someone dear is nothing new. Grieving for the loss when it may appear that you have already moved on is nothing new. What is new is the footprints my feet may leave on the path. What is new is who God is transforming me to be.

So we do not lose heart. Even though our outer nature is wasting away, our inner nature is being renewed day by day. 2 Corinthians 4:16.

Grief came to visit today. It showed me a crossroads. It showed me a cross.

There is an ancient path, a good way. Grief cracked open my heart and showed it to me.

Jesus said to him, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the father except through me.” John 14:6.

Betsy

I confess. I spent a solid hour the other day immersing myself in the new seed catalogue. Oh, the possibilities! So many options! So many colors! So many different things that I could plant! They all look so beautiful, and I haven’t even looked at the flowers yet!

And Jesus said to them, “Take care! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed, for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions.” Luke 12:15.

Because let’s be real here. I do not have the space, time, physical strength, or patience to grow all these plants. Some of them might not grow here even if I did have all those things. Professionals grew the fruit in these pictures, many different professionals from across the country. 140 pages of fruits and vegetables and flowers, thousands of varieties. I will grow less than ten.

I am not a professional gardener; I am not even a very good gardener. To be good at something, truly good at it, takes time and effort and determination and commitment. I am not willing to give that to my garden.

Is this a lack of ambition on my part? A lack of seriousness? An aversion to hard work?

A little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to rest, and poverty will come upon you as a robber, and want like an armed warrior. Proverbs 6:10-11.

I like to think instead that I am dedicating my time, effort, and determination to other things, things I value more highly than giant bell peppers or cucumber varieties.

I like to think that I am not over-committing myself to plants and a garden that will demand my time. I hope I am leaving ample space for God to lead me to new places, new activities, other responsibilities.

As much as I love my garden, love being outside, love digging in the dirt, love harvesting fresh veggies, the garden is not my life, not my ‘small g’ god. God is my God. If He were to call me away from the garden to other work, I like to think I would go without a backward glance.

To keep myself open to the possibilities of what God may call me to do, I need to turn away from some of the possibilities presented to me by this catalogue.

Over-commitment is something I have struggled with my entire life. I am not the only one. Keeping my hand down and my mouth shut often seems an impossible task. There is so much that needs doing, so much I could be doing. How do I balance doing too much with not doing enough?

It sounds simplistic, but the first thing I must determine is who I am letting judge what is too much and what is not enough. Am I comparing myself to a catalogue of professional photos? Am I letting social media dictate how I should be spending my time? Am I trying to impress my friends?

Am I now seeking human approval, or God’s approval? Or am I trying to please people? If I were still pleasing people, I would not be a servant of Christ. Galatians 1:10.

If I want to be a servant of Christ, and I do, then He is whose approval I need to seek. I want to focus on the activities He has given me to do. I need to sit at His feet and listen for what He wants me to do, then do it.

Just because the possibility exists for me to have a garden closer to the ones pictured in the catalogue doesn’t mean I should pursue it. Spending an hour looking at the pictures is like eye-candy, garden-porn, plant-lust. I confess. I am grateful God calls me to turn my eyes away and return to Him.

Set your mind on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. Colossians 3:2.

Betsy

A peaceful quiet had descended on my home. The crowds and chaos and cooking and cleaning that mark the holidays are over. The decorations still adorn my home, but they are waiting to return to the attic.

Even my garden is quiet and at rest. Despite the onions growing in my yard and the scapes escaping from my garlic, the cardboard is keeping my garden at rest. Like black-out blinds.

Sleep is necessary, rest is necessary, down-time is necessary. Even when the world gives me excessive stimulation. Even when the temperatures reach the 60s in the winter. Even when I sense I should be “doing something” in the quiet times.

I am doing something, just like my garden is doing something. I am resting. I am processing what has come before and thinking about what is to come. I am slowing my heart rate and lowering my blood pressure. I am resting my muscles and allowing myself to heal.

He (Jesus) said to them, “Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while.” For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat. Mark 6:21.

Winter is a time when the garden replenishes itself. Potassium and phosphorus from deep in the ground rise to replace the nutrients used by the summer plants. Beneficial micro-organisms have time to develop away from the demands of growing plants. The fallow ground regains its nutritional balance after a summer of feeding growing plants. Winter rest is like Gatorade for the garden, restoring its essential minerals.

Winter rest for the garden is the model for Sabbath rest for us.

Six days shall work be done, but on the seventh day you shall have a holy sabbath of solemn rest to the Lord. Exodus 35:2.

The garden needs to rest before I can ask more of it in the spring and summer. I need to rest before God asks more of me. This time of rest increases the likelihood that the garden, and I, will bear good fruit in season.

January is a wonderful time to ‘catch up’ on our rest. Let our batteries re-charge. Let those little whispers from God rise to the surface and replenish our lives. Let us regain our spiritual balance. Let us adjust to the presence of the living Lord in human form as Jesus and ever-present as the Holy Spirit.

Sometimes, we need to force this rest upon ourselves. We may need to put down cardboard to suppress outside distractions. We may need to close the blackout blinds. We are not energizer bunnies; sometimes we need to turn ourselves off. Sometimes we are like the screaming toddler who refuses nap time, when nap time is exactly what we need.

It’s a new year. Our calendars still have space on them. There is much that could happen, may happen, will happen. There are surprises, good and bad, ahead. I encourage you, as I encourage myself, to take this time to rest. God has got this. Put yourself in His hands, read His Word, listen to His voice, follow His guidance. God will put you where He wants you; God will put me where He wants me. For now, let me rest so I am ready.

Return, O my soul, to your rest, for the Lord has dealt bountifully with you. Psalm 116:7.

Happy New Year!

Betsy