Good News!

God did it! Sugar snaps have burst from their shell and are reaching for the sun!

Why did I doubt? Why was I worried?

God gifted those seeds with the impulse to grow. Even in their dried-out, lifeless state, inside they held the desire to become more. I just had to give them the chance, the opportunity.

I planted these seeds the first week of March. They have overcome the crabgrass roots, dried clippings, and the cardboard. They have grown without me tilling the soil. In this week before Easter, I praise God for bringing life when I doubted He could. How amazing is our God!

I was focused on what could go wrong and forgot what joy God gives us in His creation.

In there world you will have tribulation. But take heart: I have overcome the world. John 16:33 (ESV)

The sugar snaps overcome the crabgrass; Jesus overcame the pharisees, overcame the Romans, overcame sin, and overcame death.

It’s Holy Week. Jesus had entered Jerusalem to praise and adulation, but He knew what was coming. Violence, abuse, betrayal, abandonment, and death; emotional, physical, and spiritual torture. Followed by the greatest gift of grace and power and love ever bestowed on humanity. He suffers with us; He rises to re-write our lives.

Seeds sprouting and becoming plants is old news. It happens all the time. Nothing new here; move on.

But wait! A lifeless, old, dried out kernel was buried, and now it’s a living plant! What an amazing transformation, life-altering, life-giving, inspirational.

God does it. God does it all the time.

God transforms seeds. God transforms marriages. God transforms congregations. God transforms cities and nations. God transforms people. God transforms me and you.

And all if us, with unveiled faces, seeing the glory of the Lord reflected in a mirror, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another; for this comes from the Lord, the Spirit. 2 Cointhians 3:18.

If you are looking at God and seeing His glory, He is transforming you into His likeness. God has put within you the desire to break out of your shell and reach for Him.

Sometimes, we may need to sit in the dirt for a while before He transforms us. God has created nature in such a way that seeds grow out of dirt; perhaps He created us in such a way as well.

Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain, but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. John 12:24-25.

This Holy Week, the seeds I planted lost their lives as seeds, and have become what they were intended to be, beautiful sugar snap plants.

I don’t want to stay a seed either. I want to grow and bear fruit. That may take some radical altering of my life. If God calls me to change the life I am now living, am I willing to give it up?

I will listen for His voice. He loves me. He loves me so much that He endured this week of unbelievable distress and suffering just to call me sister. He lost His earthly life for me, for you.

But to all who received him, who believed in his name. he gave the power to become children of God, who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God. John 1:12-13.

Good News!

God did it!

Happy Easter, Betsy

Your Move, God

The sugar snap seeds are in the ground. The ball is in the air; will it go in the basket?

I cut rows out of the cardboard and swathes of dead grasses in roughly half of the allotted space. I buried the seeds in the dark, moist soil, waited ten days, and repeated the process for the rest of the space.

Will they grow?

To encourage their growth, I watered the seeds immediately. To protect the seeds from birds, I erected the bean poles and cages. Now I wait. Stare at the ground, move the cardboard strips slightly to the right, slightly to the left, clear the path for any emerging plants, hope the plants are sugar snaps.

When I planted the seeds, the soil was laced with crabgrass roots. They weren’t finding space to send forth shoots but reaching across my garden to grow beside it. Tilling would have disrupted, cut, and severed these roots. In my no-till garden, I must wait to see if my sugar snaps can overcome them. I must trust the benefits of not tilling outweigh the risks.

I’m a little scared. Isn’t that silly?

I have had sugar snap crops fail before; my world didn’t end. The flooding creek, overpowering weeds, and bad soil have all led to failed sugar snap crops. Nick and I didn’t even plant sugar snaps when we chose to travel during harvest time. Yet, I so want these to survive, thrive, succeed.

The sugar snaps are in the ground, Lord. It’s Your move now.

Only God through His life-sustaining natural processes can transform a seed into a plant. Each green shoot that bursts forth from its shell is a tiny miracle, one I will wait for with anticipation.

The kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground, and would sleep and rise night and day, and the seed would sprout and grow, he does not know how. Mark 4:26-27.

Is God growing something in my life, in your life, right now? Have you planted seeds and fear the outcome? What if the obstacles are too great? What if the weeds overtake? Should I have done something else, something new, something old? What if I fail?

Do not fear, for I am with you; do not be afraid, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my victorious right hand. Psalm 41:10.

Even if I do fail. Even if the sugar snaps don’t take, don’t grow, don’t thrive, God is with me, and I need not fear.

I have faith that God is in charge whether my sugar snaps succeed or fail, whether I succeed or fail. I will do my best, give my best, but His plan is the one that matters. I will water those seeds daily, limit the obstacles in their path, and protect them from predators. Their growth is up to God.

Those little seeds will face challenges. Crabgrass roots crisscross their home, birds watch for the opportunity to snatch them, both cold and heat will assail them. But God has put a desire inside them to transform into all that He designed them to be.

God has put that desire in inside me as well. I also want to transform into all that God designed me to be. I want to break from this shell, grow roots, reach for the sun, and bear fruit. I will face challenges, challenges which will make me stronger if I hold onto my faith.

My brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of any kind, consider it nothing but joy, because you know that the testing of your faith produces endurance, and let endurance have its full effect, so that you may be mature and complete, lacking in nothing. James 1:3-4.

My challenge today is to not be anxious or worry about my sugar snaps.

The sugar snap seeds are in the ground. It’s your move, God.

Betsy

Beauty

I planned to write about planting sugar snap seeds, but the beauty of this tree won’t wait.

What a gift God gives us with Japanese Magnolias! Gorgeous pinks and reds, delicate petals, poignant fragrance that greets me each time I step outside.

My yard is littered with the fragile blossoms already fallen in the breeze. They drift over my house and dot my front yard. I wish whoever planted this tree had planted her in the middle of a field for all to see. Tucked in this tiny space, she has blessed my family for years.

What beauty! Isn’t God amazing to create such rich colors and scents? And gift us with the ability to appreciate, admire, and revel in them?

You are worthy, our Lord and God, to receive glory and honor and power, for you created all things, and by your will they existed and were created. Revelation 4:11.

Amazing how this beauty elevates my mood. My eyes widen, a smile cracks my face, I take deep breaths and laugh more. Beauty brings me joy. Even on a cloudy day with chilly, misting rain, this tree is like a small sun radiating light. And we who behold it carry that light with us into the world.

This tree is a little of God’s character shining into the darkness.

I was driving the other day and had to stop the car. A row of Bradford Pears in full bloom hugged the road. Stunning beauty. Like giant bridal bouquets of startling white flowers set on the ground.

These beauties have appeared suddenly throughout my neighborhood, the tips of white showing around corners, through fences, in distant yards.

The once random dots of yellow daffodils and jonquils have become fields of golden laughter.

O send out your light and your truth; let them lead me; let them bring me to your holy hill and to your dwelling. Then I will go to the altar of God, to God my exceeding joy; and I will praise you with the harp, O God, my God. Psalm 43:4-5.

I cannot help but praise God with joy for these gifts of beauty; they are lights that lead me right back to Him and usher in His presence. What are my worries and frustrations compared to the beauty that surrounds me?

How can I doubt the goodness of God when He creates such beauty? Not only does it bless us today, but it generates the seeds of future beauty, creating an ever more beautiful world around us if we let it.

I am grateful that this tree stopped me this morning. She called for me to set aside my to-do list and appreciate her presence. I am so glad I did.

This beauty is fleeting. Tomorrow, all the petals may fall. Tomorrow, green leaves may replace the pinks and reds and whites. It may snow and cover it all. Today, I need to stop and appreciate this beauty.

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.

The sugar snaps seeds will still be in the ground next week.

Betsy

The No-Till Garden

The dandelion mocks me from the driveway. I am worried about planting the sugar snap seeds without tilling the ground. The bright yellow flower laughs at my lack of faith.

Nick always tilled the ground before planting. I continued the practice. After we took down the garden fence and removed the landscaped timbers in the fall, our garden reverted to yard each winter. Each spring, we tilled the garden to prepare it for seeds and plants.

This past fall, I left the fence and timbers in place. I pulled the old plants and weeds and covered them with cardboard. My garden stayed garden and not yard. Theoretically, I do not need to till.

Tilling reminds me to look for the hard-packed place in my life, the places where I am set in my ways and resistant to change. Tilling reminds me to uproot the worldly ways that have crept into my life; to make room for the seeds God is planting. Tilling reminds me that traumatic upheaval may be God’s way of preparing me for growth.

See now, I am for you; I will turn to you, and you will be tilled and sown. Ezekiel 36:9.

No-till gardens are now in vogue. If I don’t let my garden revert to yard, I shouldn’t need to till in the spring. The argument is that tilling disrupts the beneficial activity in the soil as well as the detrimental (weeds).

Could it be laziness in disguise?

Can I keep my garden weed-free and ready for seed without major upheavals?

Can I keep my life focused on God and ready for His call without major upheavals?

I pull back the cardboard and peek. The soil is loose, dark, and weed-free. Cardboard and dead grasses have kept new grasses and weeds from growing. My days of tilling may be over.

But as for you, continue in what you have learned and firmly believed, knowing from whom you learned it, and how from childhood you have known the sacred writings that are able to instruct you for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus. 2 Timothy 3:14-15.

Perhaps, if I can continue to keep my garden weed-free and ready, I will not need to go through the arduous effort of tilling. Perhaps, if I stay in God’s word and continually apply it to my life, I will not need major upheavals in my life to follow Him.

My plan is to cut out rows in the cardboard for the sugar snap seeds. Give those seeds air and sunlight to grow; deny air and sunlight to the weeds I don’t want to grow.

Planting those seeds is the important thing. Because making my space weed-free does not make it a garden. What makes my space a garden is not what it doesn’t grow, but what it does. A garden produces fruit.

You did not choose me, but I chose you. And I appointed you to go and bear fruit, fruit that will last. John 15:16.

As proud as I may be of eliminating weeds from my garden and obvious sins from my life, a weed-free space is not a garden. A sin-free life is not a life of faith. A faithful life produces fruit.

I am not going to till this year. I will put those seeds in the ground which I prepared for them last year. I am trusting God to grow the fruit.

By contrast, the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Galatians 5:22.

The dandelion nods her yellow head in agreement.

Spring is coming!

The frost has turned the brown ground gray, but green shoots are peeking through. Spots of yellow dot the creek banks. Spring is coming.

The seeds in the packet rattle as I shake them.

Will I do this? Can I do this?

I look at my garden, still brown and gray. I can almost see the sugar snaps growing there. Can you see them? Tall and green, reaching for the sun, covered with white blossoms and dangling peas. Can you taste their crisp sweetness?

Shaking the seed packet again, I make my decision. I’m planting these seeds. It will take effort on my part to prepare the ground for a garden. It will take commitment to produce this fruit in my yard, to enable God to produce this fruit in my yard.

But I can see sugar snaps growing where there is only barren ground. I can taste their sweetness. I will do my part to make this vision a reality. I will give God the space needed to turn these seeds into plants, this barren ground into a garden.

Because while vegetables can grow anywhere, a garden is an area intentionally set aside to nurture the growth of fruit.

And I wonder if God could grow His fruit in my life if I only gave Him the space to do so.

You did not choose me, but I chose you. And I appointed you to go and bear fruit, fruit that will last … for I have chosen you out of the world. John 15:16,18.

I look at my life and see worries and frustrations and petty jealousies, worthless activities inspired by a desire to impress others. Could kindness and patience and self-control grow here? Could God grow those things in my life?

Picking up my Bible, I make my decision. I’m planting His seeds. It may well take effort on my part to prepare my life for His presence. It will take commitment to enable God to produce this fruit in my life. But the vison of His love, His peace, His joy growing in my life is just too wonderful to deny.

I want God to turn the barren and frosty ground of my life into a verdant garden bearing sweet fruit. I can almost see me joyful and loving, reaching for the Son. I can almost taste the sweetness. Can you?

Where to start?

I look at my garden, forlorn in the back yard, resting from winter. There is space there waiting for sugar snap seeds. There is space in my life waiting for God’s word.

In the morning, while it was still very dark, He (Jesus) got up and went out to a deserted place, and there He prayed. Mark 1:35.

One year, our ministers challenged the congregation to read the entire Bible in 90 days, the Big Read. The suggested reading path would take 30 to 45 minutes a day, out of 24 hours; the equivalent of an episode of Ozark or Cupcake Wars. Could I spare the time?

What are the things that crowd my day, your day? Are you caring for your kids? Your parents? Your spouse? Yourself? Is your work schedule demanding? What are your priorities? That’s really what it comes down to – what is important to you, what is important to me. 

As for me and my household, we will worship the Lord. Joshua 24:15b.

I can dedicate space in my yard for the sugar snaps. I can dedicate time in my day for Bible study, prayer, and praise. And I am so excited about the expected results!I can almost taste the sugar snaps. Already a smile covers my face, and His warmth is melting the frost.

Betsy

The Heron

The recent rain had filled my creek with water, awakening the dormant fish eggs hiding beneath the rocks. Enticed by the new life, the heron came to visit. Oblivious to me, the majestic bird concentrated on the water in the creek, looking for a snack sized fish. I hope she found one. I did not have the patience she showed as she stood for long minutes. Watching and waiting. At the beach, when I have fewer tasks at hand, I have seen them stand for hours on the beach waiting for the sunning fisherman to throw a fish back.

I remember when I saw my first heron, back in a hidden cove on the lake. I thought something had escaped from Jurassic Park. When I see them in numbers large enough to flock, my heart thanks God for bringing these graceful and impressive birds back from the brink of extinction.

What a gift to see them in my yard! What a gift to see the hawks and eagles who have returned to our area. What a gift to see the bluebirds and blue jays and cardinals and chickadees and robins who never left. What a gift to hear the little sparrows chattering away and the mockingbirds singing medleys of their favorite tunes.

By the streams the birds of the air have their habitation; they sing among the branches, Psalm 104:12.

Sometimes I stand in wonder at the wildlife that surrounds me. This is the 21st century. We have computers and cell phones and wifi and AI. But in my yard, I am surrounded by birds and bunnies and squirrels and chipmunks. Racoons and possums and skunks outnumber the people living on my street. Deer and coyote wander through my yard, and foxes have raised their kits here. I know there are mice and moles and voles and a million insects in my yard. I have even seen an armadillo amble across my yard, nose to the ground.

Why do I think this is my yard?

Has not God created every one of these creatures as surely as He has created me? Has He not given this earth, this patch of green, for them to live on as surely as He has given it to me? Does He not care for them as He cares for me?

Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? Matthew6:29.

These animals around me call my yard their home. I have grown so used to them being here that I rarely stop to greet them or acknowledge their presence. Only when something unusual happens do I stop and stand in awe, if I happen to be looking and see it.

When the hawk swooped down on the squirrel, when the young bunny approached my docile old cat, when the duck made a nest in my flower bed, when the mother fox barked at me as I neared her hidden kits. Then I stop and give thanks for the vibrant community of animals living in my yard.

Perhaps this yard is more theirs than mine. My efforts run more toward limiting their possession of the space than encouraging it. I feel sometimes as if I am carving out a space for myself in their yard. I know that we as humans need to be good stewards of the land and be kind to all living creatures, but sometimes it feels egotistical to think that these animals in my yard are in any way dependent on me. Sometimes it feels just the opposite. I am amazed at what they teach me. Look at all the different species of birds and mammals and insects that call my yard home! Look how well they share the space, how peacefully they (usually) interact.

I hope you get to go outside today and stand in awe of God’s creation, both plant and animal. The beauty, the variety, the differing functions and personalities, the amazing world that lives in a yard, that surrounds us. What an awesome world; what an awesome God!

Betsy

Lent

While some of you may be celebrating this evening with dinner and flowers, I plan to have ashes smeared on my forehead. As a widow, Valentines Day has lost its appeal, but Lent still calls out to me.

My parents observed Lent, so I grew up observing it. We weren’t Catholic, but I sense they recognized their and my need for self-discipline. What were we leaning on, what had we become dependent on, what were we using to fill the holes only God could fill? What had become a habit? If I could loosen its control on me for 40 days, 47 if you count Sundays, then wouldn’t that be a good thing?

I would give up chocolate, or alcohol, or red meat. Sometimes I’d give up computer games. When the urge came upon me to succumb to temptation, I would pray and distract myself with reading the Bible or devotional books. Instead of making me feel holier, it made me twitchy and restless. How dependent I was, and often still are, on these earthly pleasures!

Lent commemorates the period after Jesus’ baptism when the Spirit led him into the wilderness to fast for 40 days. If that were not enough, satan came to tempt Him at the end. All that fasting was training Jesus, strengthening Him to be able to resist satan’s temptations. If Jesus needed to be trained to resist temptation by fasting, don’t I?

I need training to resist temptation. I need practice. I need to put those muscles to work.

Now, disciple always seems painful rather than pleasant at the time, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it. Hebrews 12:11

Last year I observed the Jewish Sabbath for Lent, and I am going to do that again. I’m not going to follow all the Hasidic regulations, but I am going to “do no work” and “keep it holy.” (Exodus 31:12-17)

I have found that training my brain to think only thoughts about God and His glory is even more challenging than not eating chocolate. When I clear my mind of thoughts not related to God, sometimes it looks like a barren field, like my garden this time of year. There’s not much left growing there. What a sad and sobering revelation. Am I prepared to spend eternity in the presence of God if I can’t spend an entire day there?

Twitchy and restless.

God is showing me the gaps in my training, my need for discipline, the distance I need to travel to truly be His disciple.

Then he said to them all, “If any of you want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me.” Luke 9:23.

I think I want to be a disciple of Jesus. I think I follow Him. I know I believe, but even the demons believe (James 2:19). Could I really take up a cross if even a day of rest seems a burden? I need to practice this art of resisting temptation. I need to practice giving up chocolate and alcohol and red meat so perhaps I will be strong enough to give up divisiveness and quarrelling and self-righteousness.

I cannot resist these temptations on my own. I get all twitchy and restless. Only God and His Spirit can give me the strength to abstain from worldly distractions and unholy thoughts.

Submit yourselves to God. Resist the devil and he will flee from you. Draw near to God and he will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double minded. James 4:7-8.

I don’t want to be double minded. I want to have the mind of Christ (I Cor. 2:16). I want to submit my self to God, cleanse my hands, purify my heart, and draw near to God.

I may be losing chocolate, computer games, and Saturday TV, but look what I am gaining!

Happy Lent!

Betsy

The Roundabout Way

For 30 plus years I have taken down my fencing every fall and let my garden go to grass. In the spring, I tilled the ground and put the fence back up. It was physically demanding work, with rich lessons about preparing the ground for seeds.

Encouraged by new-found knowledge, I am trying a no-till garden this year. I left the fence up; I did not let the garden go to grass. This seems much easier; I am wondering if it is better.

Sometimes God leads us to do things the roundabout, less direct way, the hard way.

When Pharoah let the people go, God did not lead them by way of the land of the Philistines, although that was nearer; for God thought, “if the people face war, they may change their minds and return to Egypt.” So God led the people by the roundabout way of the wilderness toward the Red Sea. Exodus 13:7-8.

Have you ever felt this? Other people seem to have taken a direct path to their destination, and you are over here, wandering around in the wilderness. The path is hard to see, there are hidden rocks and shifting sands, each step seems a struggle. Why am I over here when there is a paved road over there?

Did God really lead me on this path, or have I gone astray?

How difficult and confusing faith can be sometimes. So many different voices, so much advice, it’s challenging to know who to listen to, even when I am trying to listen to God alone. Doubt creeps in.

There is a well-worn path over there that is easy to travel. It feels rather stupid to be over here trudging through brush and briars just because I sense this is where God wants me to be.

Enter though the narrow gate; for the gate is wide and the road is easy that leads to destruction, and there are many who take it. For the gate is narrow and the road is hard that leads to life, and there are few that find it. Matthew 7:13-14.

That well worn path may contain dangers that we can’t see. God does not want us to return to Egypt, to return to slavery, to return to sinful behavior, to return to a life without Him. If we must get off the well-worn path and wander through the wilderness to strengthen our relationship with Him, to learn important lessons about faith and trust, then that is the path that leads to life.

My faith tells me that it is God leading me on this roundabout path through the wilderness. He has things to teach me, things I need to learn. He wants to protect me from enemies and battles until He has prepared me to face them. He does not want me to face battles unprepared and change my mind about following Him.

Can you see it, dear friend? What looks like wandering around in the wilderness is precious time learning to trust God. What lessons He teaches when the work is hard, and the road is challenging. God leads us on the roundabout way and the hard road because there we can learn to lean on Him, His word, His Spirit. There we learn, there we grow, there is life.

The lessons I have learned over the past thirty years from tilling my garden are dear to me. I have learned about ripping deeply held weeds out of my life, turning up hidden rocks and ridding myself of them, breaking up the hard places in my life to allow for God’s word to take root in my life.

But this year, I am trying a no-till garden. It’s an easier path. Because, when we are ready, God leads us out of the wilderness and into the promised land. When we are ready, God brings us to the narrow gate and directs us to enter.

If I am not ready, if my garden is still too weed-ridden to bypass tilling, then I will get out the tiller and stay on the hard path until the yard is ready, until I am ready.

God will lead me.

Betsy

Waves

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.

January

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.