Category: Winter

When God lets us rest

Buried Garlic

The cold damp air stings my cheeks. Soon it will start to rain, that miserable 40-degree cold rain that signals winter in the South.

The garlic needs to be planted this morning, before the rain, before Christmas. I poke holes in the cardboard and bury my unwrapped cloves in the dirt. The scent of wet dirt fills the air and competes with the tang of the garlic.

Poor little garlic cloves. I have separated them from their families, stripped away all their protective layers, and buried them in the cold, dark earth alone. Do they know this is the only way they can grow and reproduce and expand their presence in the world? Probably not. If they feel, they feel vulnerable and lonely and exposed. Perhaps they are scared and doubt that what held true for previous generations will still hold true for them. Will God turn them into big, beautiful garlic bulbs?

Life can be scary sometimes. Occasionally, we are led to do things in direct contrast to what we want to achieve. It makes no sense to us. Sometimes, to become a beautiful gift to the world, we must strip ourselves of our protective layers and sit alone in the dark for a while.

Think of the nine months when the creator of the universe grew in Mary’s womb, subject to her diet, her sleep patterns, her movements, and her health. Think of the caterpillar hidden in a confined cocoon. Time and God alone will make the transformation, create the growth, enable the blessing to break free.

Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and his brother John and led them up a high mountain, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white. Matthew 17:1-2.

Sometimes what we see is not all there is, even within ourselves. God can transfigure even garlic cloves into what they have the potential to be. He transfigured Jesus to show His radiant glory, and He can transfigure us to share that glory with others. He can turn us into our best selves, if only we take the time to be alone with Him.

I was in a centering prayer group for years until it disbanded. Now, I have found a new one, and I marvel at the blessing it brings. Just to sit in the presence of God in silence for twenty minutes. No demands, no wishes, no praises even, just silence in the presence of the almighty and loving God. I sense His Spirit within me needs this communion. I sense I need this vulnerable and exposed time alone with my Savior.

Some of you may feel your life is on the spin cycle. Perhaps the washer is shaking with the load. Turn it off for a few minutes. Just stop and sit in silence with your friend Jesus for a little while. It may feel scary. You may doubt that God will do for you what He has done for previous generations. You may feel vulnerable and exposed.

Have faith, dear friend. Just as the garlic needs this time in the dark, you may need this time for God to transform you into your best self, a gift to the world.

And the one who is seated on the throne said, “See, I am making all things new.” Also, he said, “Write this, for these words are trustworthy and true.” Revelation 21:5.

Christmas is a week from today. Too often it is marked by stress and activity and chaos and travel and eating and drinking. Take a moment to strip away your protective layer, poke a hole in your veneer, and sit alone in the dark with God. You may not see the results for a while, but God will use that moment, and any more you give Him, to make you into something new.

Love in Christ, Betsy

The Unknown and the Constant

I took advantage of the warm sunny afternoon to prepare more of my garden for the coming months. The recent freeze had killed the weeds which still grew along the edges of the tomato garden, and I wanted to extend the cardboard under the fence before the weeds grew back.

The weather was perfect. Bright sun elevated my spirit, cool weather kept me from overheating, birds twittered from the hedgerow, commenting on my progress. A wonderful way to spend an hour before the big game started.

How different gardening has become in the years since my husband passed. Nick never touched the garden once hunting season started. Now, tomatoes grow into October, and I spread the winterizing of the garden over months. Nick tilled every spring, an arduous task that I am learning how to avoid. If I can improve my weed prevention techniques, perhaps I can maintain a no-till garden.

I wonder, though, if perhaps the old ways were better. My creeks will flood again. They do so every ten years or so. I depend on it to refresh the garden soil. If the garden is covered, how will the soil be replenished? Perhaps I will need to vary the methods, pull up the cardboard around the plants and use weed cloth, let the garden go to grass every few years and till it. Maybe I will need to have a fallow year. (What would I write about!!)

It seems the future of my garden is full of unknowns. Even if I did all the research for best practices, the weather is different every year, the soil is different, my availability is different. My garlic was to be planted in November after the first freeze, but we didn’t freeze until December, green grass still covers my yard, and the garlic bulbs sit by the door. They need cold earth to propagate. I may have already waited too late, but I will bury the bulbs soon no matter the weather.

Yet you do not even know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. Instead, you ought to say, “If the Lord wishes, we will live and do this or that.” James 4:14-15.

I have lost two friends suddenly in the past month, as well as the mother of another friend. Life is one way, and then that way changes. The patterns I have established for my life change, not because I want them to, but because the world around me has changed. Just like my garden is different now. I adapt. We all do. The option to not adapt is there, but the results aren’t pretty.

Maybe that is the beauty of our faith in an Eternal God. He is our constant while the world around us changes. He is our north star when we are lost, our point of focus when we are spinning. He is with us, not only here and now, but also as we change from this life to the next. What a gift! What a blessing to have an eternal God beside us, before us, behind us, and through the gift of His Spirit, within us.

For the Lord is good; his steadfast love endures forever, and his faithfulness is to all generations. Psalm 100:5.

Christmas is in two weeks. It won’t look like what it used to look like for me. Maybe it won’t for you either. It’s okay to miss the way things used to be. It’s okay to adopt new patterns. It’s okay to change them around every year based on the situation at hand. The point is to keep our focus on God, on His incarnation as Jesus, on His presence as the Holy Spirit.

What a beautiful Christmas gift!

Love in Christ, Betsy

A Moment of Calm

Silence. My home has been buzzing with family and friends and cooking and cleaning and taking down and putting up. And amid all this chaos, I have been given a moment of calm.

I drink my coffee and marvel at how the frost sparkles in the sunlight. How big the birds seem all fluffed up against the sudden chill. When was the last time my grass was still green in December? Does this mean we will have big snows in March? What freedom to let my mind wander and wonder and leave it all in God’s hands.

The melody drifts through my thoughts. He has the whole world in His hands. He has you and me, brother, in His hands. There is plenty to do; there always will be plenty to do; but we can be calm and rest in the confidence that God has this.

I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world, you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world. John 26:33.

I find it so easy to be caught up in the drama of the world. Little personal dramas of those I love. Political dramas which may or may not affect my life in the coming years. International dramas in which I have no role at all. If all that fails, there’s football.

At some level, I think I like the stress, the drama, even the chaos of family and friends and coming and going and taking down and putting up. Relationships are important. Purpose is important. I have a role – mother, grandmother, hostess, friend. I want to do my best in those roles.

But this moment of calm, what a gift!

In this moment of calm, I remember that my first relationship is to God the Father, Son, and Spirit. My primary purpose is to share His love with others.

Seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you. Matthew 6:33.

Advent has begun. For many of us that signals an increase in activity. Church services, performances, luncheons, parties, family gatherings, decorating, shopping, cooking. Advent can be an emotional time as well as we long for Christmases past with people who have left us or remember situations we’d rather forget.

The Church tells us that advent is a time of quiet preparation, a time when we contemplate Christ’s incarnation. Imagine what it must have been like to move from creator of the universe, able to speak worlds into existence, to helpless infant, unable to speak at all. He considered a relationship with me, with you, with that annoying person down the street, important enough that He would give up everything to tell us He loves us. Amazing.

I am taking this moment of calm to let that thought soak in. Do I love anyone enough to give up all my abilities, all my possessions, all my identity to tell them I love them? How sad that even after doing all that, some refuse to believe Him.

What an amazing gift – His birth, His life as a human, His presence. How can I begin to thank Him for that? What could I ever give Him in return?

By this all people will know you are my disciples, if you have love for one another. John 13:35.

As advent begins, dear friends, take a moment to sit calmly with God. All those other things can wait for a while. Let you mind wander and wonder. Think on the beauty of the world and the incredible gift of God’s incarnation. Let go of the chaos for a minute or two. God is good. God has overcome the world. God loves you. God loves every one of us.

God is with us. Christ be with you.

Betsy

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.

The Way of Grief

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