I sit on the porch and gaze at the lush green; it’s everywhere my eyes wander.
Rain drips and drizzles.
Drops gather together and form more puddles.
How do we become vibrant and lush? Green. Alive, in the fullest sense of the word? I wonder.
Like the grass. Like the trees are becoming.
Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops?
What if Your healing comes through tears?
Snatches of a song play in my head.
Hood goes up. Cold and damp seeps into my being.
Relief from hot emotion, for a time.
Think. Write. Feel. Pray.
God, I don’t understand. Same words and questions as always.
Lushness is a result of rain, day after day.
But I want the lush without the rain.
Without the dreary gray skies and without the pain. I hate emptiness of longings and lack of sun.
Inward stomp of foot.
Realization and deep knowing.
Embrace the pain. Feel it. Don’t stuff it. I write.
Even when you have to cry until there are no tears left and write a thousand pages in your journal and pray until there is nothing left to say. Spread as much joy as you can, even when you’re not feeling much of it. Love as you have been loved. [By Him above]
I remember a phrase from a blog post over on (In)courage. Like the disciple Thomas who doubted until he touched the scars of Jesus, some people in your life need to see your broken places more than your victories. (Holley Gerth) What? Someone might need to see my broken places?
But God, I want to protest. I’m so tired of running into poles and leaking saltwater and feeling the aches of earth. So tired. Heart screams – no more. Can there just be laughter and daisy field dancing and sunshine? Enough rain. Enough gray. More color. More brilliance. More sun. So weary of battling to keep hope and heart alive.
Find a puddle and dance in it, He says. Don’t be afraid to get your toes a little muddy. Don’t fight against the brokenness. I know what I’m doing. You’re okay – just rest in Me, child.
I read some verses that resonate within. Endure.
“Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself, so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted.” (Hebrews 12:1-3)
I happen upon Isaac and his strawberry jam mishap that he had been trying to clean up himself. It reminds me of how sometimes I try to feebly wipe up my messes myself. (Kitchen towels don’t work so well) Sticky messes need soap and water.
I redo a song poster in bright shades of green and purple this time. It’s my favorite story to tell – the way You made all the sick people well... Oh – you made disciples out of sinners and thieves. Oh – would you make a disciple out of me? I don’t get to the You make everything new, that’s what You do – Maker of all, I want to follow You! part. Tomorrow.
I listen to a new favorite song.
And I’m in Your arms
Where I belong
There’s no other place for me
Than right where You are
Some things just don’t change
When I call Your name
You never hesitate to wrap me in endless grace
When I’m in Your arms
So I try to dance in the puddles and let Jesus clean up my sticky strawberry jam messes and be okay with the brokenness. Running into His arms and asking, “Would you make a disciple out of me?” And somehow all the rain seems a little more bearable.
I catch a glimpse of green.