Quiet

Sunday morning. Boy sleeping nearby. He was awake to turn over a few minutes ago, but quite undecided about his plans for arising.

It is even harder for me to remember how I did fourteen, since I got a late start with this, my one child. So I err on the side of liberty. We really do not have anything we have to do today other than carry him back to his mom. If he sleeps, we miss minutes available for historic dad/dude conversations that are earth shaking and earth shaping. But they are not all like that anyway.

I guess the issue this morning is boy poverty. Since my access time with him is limited...
Well, dog. My access time with him is not limited by familial circumstances alone. I am really still fussing about perfect parenting.

Ok, Father. One more time. I trust you with my son. Here he is. My best has been good, but what you want to do with, in and through him is beyond me. I dare say it is beyond my comprehension. And I am convinced that I am well able to get in your way.
Father, I really want you to be glorified, and that my life would not hinder that in any way or amount. I stand in awe of your mercy. I want to be still, quiet enough to be able to watch what you do with my boy. In the meantime, I need your help to know when I am willfully in the way.

I guess if I would just get back to my place on your lap and rest, I would be properly positioned for this to work out best.

Back to Work

Been hangin' with my growing son this week. Back in the saddle tomorrow, wrapping up an old work year and kickstarting a new one. Always an interesting transition time. This transition will be different, because I am different. Just these last three months of writing like this every night has made a huge difference in how this life is able to find places in my soul that can still be pushed around.

It is like everything ahead is adventure. Just being still enough to find out what God is up to, still enough to be hearing what He wants done or not done. So far to go in learning to be still.

Father, help me to bring Glory and Honor to Your name as I earn my living.

Strength in Surrender

My soul will never be strong enough to weather the storms. Thankfully, it does not need to be. My soul can shut up and rest on my spirit. My spirit is bound to His Spirit, and nothing is stronger. I am going to know what to say when. I am going to know when to be very still, and when to use my mouth to war for my corner of the Kingdom of God.

I think there is more time needed in stillness. Not sure? Well, I am going to try that as the first wise choice and see how it works. There is no pulling words back.

I want so to proudly prove my little orphan self is capable of self care. To do so, though, I have to act on my own. Father will not aid my defense of foolishness.

Father, thank you that you have clearly described and defined your self. Thank you that you have left no need for doubt. If I have doubt it is because I brought it to the party.

Too Noisy

Yes, Sir. Acknowledged.

Shhhh. Rest. Be restored in stillness and quiet. Shhhh.

Everything needed is within reach or by simple request.

You belong at this table, where there is no hurry. Eat. Drink. Receive.

You did not earn it, so you can not strive for it. It is simply yours.

You are not able to qualify, but you have been qualified. Accept this best of gifts.

Nothing to do.

Thank you.

Holy

Resting under the Blood, Holy Blood of Jesus. There is so much religion. And then there is the Blood. The simple fact of finding cleansing and perfection under the shed Blood of a Holy God.

It calls for faith. But that is all. I plead the blood. I proclaim that the entire body of Christ Jesus is under the Blood. There is only one thing for it. Rest. In the rest, in stopping every struggle and moment of striving, the supernatural power resident on earth by the unexplainable Blood of God who made Himself man, is transformation from death to life. Transformation from darkness to light. Transformation from the religious struggle for redemption and perfection by human ritual to the simplicity of trusting God when He said, "It is finished."

Father, thank you for freedom from religion. Thank you for your gift of spiritual life instead.

Shhh. Hush Now.

So much to be found on the other side of a quiet moment. Almost like I should dare you to be quiet for a whole minute. The truth comes out in that stillness. Maybe a truth you or I have never heard because we were never challenged or never brave enough to shut up, sit down, stop moving...and wait.

What if? What if the God you do not really want to know about really does talk to people he loves, like you. Gracious! What would you do if you invited Him to tell you how He feels about you, and then you waited until you heard him say? You would have to deal with what you heard.

I can ask this because I am not worried about what He would tell you. I know how he feels about you. But if you do not know, then you get to act anyway you want toward God. You get to respond to whatever you make up about Him. So you get to be in control of the image of God you have created, and of how you respond to this graven image. Ideal for you, except that you know your image of God is wrong. So your relationship with your idol never satisfies. You are still empty and aching for the glory that you know is in your destiny. You just keep missing the mark.

Shhh. Hush now. Be still long enough. If you are still for long enough, you will put away your noise forever. You will want, forever, to be quiet enough to never miss another word He has to say.

Holy Spirit, please put a seal on the ones who will dare to be loved.

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You need a Father. I just heard a man I respect say that from the platform.

I have a Father. My friend Jack introduced Him to me. I had known and trusted His Son for a while. I went dancing with His Spirit regularly. They made a way for me to meet my Father, but Jack was the one who told me I could crawl up there and snuggle. Daddy, give Jack a hug for me.

Aunt Bea paved the way. She told me it was time to stop looking for a teacher. But she did not say what followed forsaking "a teacher."

Then I met Jack and had my answer. All riders leave the train here. Last station stop. Home. Father. Rest. Done. No need to look any further.

You need a Father. With Father is Shalom. Everything needed is here, though there is not much here. The desert wind strips away the decoration, any facade that might be left. The utter cold of night fractures everything that can not gain access to the private family quarters in the back of the tent. Where there is warmth that is and was and ever shall be. There is one resting place deep in my Fathers bosom...and there is plenty of room.

Father, thank you that I need empty hands and shoeless, clean feet to make the toddler climb up into your lap. It is so good to be home.

Nothing to write. Nothing to hear and write down. Can I really be content to be here in the stillness. Yes. Part of what I let go of is my self-noise that I use to control the silence. Shh.

The stillness is what am given to soak in right now.