Reposting this one from a while back… Mostly because I need the reminder. Maybe you, too? Cling close, listen, breathe…

Breathe in, breathe out,
lie down, relax.
Sometimes, but not all the time.
Oh, Lord, I need wisdom–
to know when to retreat,
and when to resume.
Inhale, exhale,
get up, and act.

And there is no rhythm,
no rinse and repeat,
no automated cycle
that requires no thinking–
no searching–
no seeking.

Wouldn’t it be nice?

Not really.

Safe,
comfortable,
familiar,
expected,
in control,

but not really.

The wisdom granted is not the blueprint,
but the fluid motion of waves,
of not knowing
when the next one comes,
and clinging to the Lifeline,
being prepared for
when the next one comes.

Cling to the Controller
and remember:
I’m safe not just in clinging,
but because He holds onto me.
He never loses His grip.

Cling close enough to hear Him whisper,
“Relax. Retreat.”
or,
“Resume. Take action.”
Always cling close to know
which one, or even,
if it’s both at the same time.

Glory just in breathing?
Service in letting go?
and in loving, pure loving,
people,
not position?

Absolutely.

The wisdom granted is trusting that.

Breathe in, exhale,
inhale, breathe out,
lie down, get up,
relax, and act,
retreat, resume.
Ride the waves and hold on tight–
not to control,
but to the One who’s in control.

Hear Him whisper.

—————————————-
written 6/11/12

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Update

Hey, everyone. I wanted to take a moment to break from my typical post format, and give you all a little update on what’s going on these days.

First, I am thrilled that Anna of Here Am I has invited me to be a guest blogger on her site this week. You can check out my post on her site here.

If you read the post, you’ll find that I’ve revealed an upcoming change: I’m going to Peaks Island, ME for the summer! That means less access to a computer, which in turn means posting less frequently. But be assured that I will be writing, and will be posting, so keep your eyes peeled this summer for sporadic posts. I’m hoping to take this time to do a little brainstorming, and have a more organized approach to how often, and what, I post. You may even see other bloggers like Anna as guests on here as well! I’m hoping to also incorporate an online store where I’ll be selling various craft items, from fabric flowers to cards to whatever else I may come up with, in order to raise funds for a missions trip to Sierra Leone this December (Yes, it still hasn’t happened yet–but here’s to hoping this year will be the year!).

Anyway, in light of my nearing departure, I’d like to share a poem I wrote on the ferry ride over to Peaks Island when I visited earlier this month:

Peaks Island

See the glamor
that isn’t so glamorous.
See the grit and the grime
that isn’t mine.
Feel the wind that they feel,
the wind that invigorates
me–
the wind that chills them
to the bone,
day in,
day out.

Do not romanticize,
but do not stop
seeing their ordinary
as extraordinary–
because my ordinary,
that they see as glamorous,
is extraordinary.

Human beings,
wherever they breathe breath,
are nothing short of miracles.

——————-
Looks like their ordinary is about to become my ordinary, at least for a little while. 😉 Perhaps in that time the sense of glamor may wear off, but I’m hopeful it doesn’t. I’m hopeful that the overwhelming sense of God’s love, that washes over me when I realize He gave me the opportunity to live and work on a beautiful island with an amazing friend (who also loves me enough to extend the invitation), never wears off.

I’m sure I’ll be learning lots there, and I’ll be sure to share as often as I can! This week will be filled with packing and tying up loose ends, so look for another post some time next week after I’ve arrived and have gotten settled in!

Breathe in, breathe out,
lie down, relax.
Sometimes, but not all the time.
Oh, Lord, I need wisdom–
to know when to retreat,
and when to resume.
Inhale, exhale,
get up, and act.

And there is no rhythm,
no rinse and repeat,
no automated cycle
that requires no thinking–
no searching–
no seeking.

Wouldn’t it be nice?

Not really.

Safe,
comfortable,
familiar,
expected,
in control,

but not really.

The wisdom granted is not the blueprint,
but the fluid motion of waves,
of not knowing
when the next one comes,
and clinging to the Lifeline,
being prepared for
when the next one comes.

Cling to the Controller
and remember:
I’m safe not just in clinging,
but because He holds onto me.
He never loses His grip.

Cling close enough to hear Him whisper,
“Relax. Retreat.”
or,
“Resume. Take action.”
Always cling close to know
which one, or even,
if it’s both at the same time.

Glory just in breathing?
Service in letting go?
and in loving, pure loving,
people,
not position?

Absolutely.

The wisdom granted is trusting that.

Breathe in, exhale,
inhale, breathe out,
lie down, get up,
relax, and act,
retreat, resume.
Ride the waves and hold on tight–
not to control,
but to the One who’s in control.

Hear Him whisper.

—————————————-
written 6/11/12

Before bed bugs and breakups,
I knew difficulty in different ways.
But afterwards,
I knew grace–
and God’s goodness–
and God–
anew.

Under the umbrella of unemployment,
I underestimated the enemy’s power
and pleasure
in helping me dig my own grave
of self-pity,
self-hate,
self-doubt,
self.

I lay at the bottom of the grave,
look upward.
Long way up.
Lift my hand to take His,
be lifted out.

On the upward climb,
I see:
grace more sufficient
goodness more great
God more love–
God more God.
I know God anew again,
and know anew again
that He knows me–
and loves me still.

I would not choose again
to put myself at the bottom
of that grave,
but I’m thankful
for the upward climb out,
for the return to the surface,
where true life lives,
for knowing God anew.

And I’m thankful for the future
“bed bugs” and “breakups” and “unemployments,”
to know God anew all over again.
—————————————-
written 6/8/12

How do I trust You in this, God?
I feel myself still fighting.
I don’t want to be fighting.

Not You, God.

I want to want to rest in You,
not in the knowing.
It’s in the seeking I’ll find knowing.

But the flesh bleats
and demands an answer,
which is really just laziness.

And You want me to know You-
to seek You-
with all of my heart.

And when I find You,
the unknowns,
and where I end up,
won’t really matter.

It seems to me, that to You, Oh Lord,
Purity is of utmost value.
A thing greatly desired to be secured
by that most precious to You.
And so You sent Your Son to die
“to make a wretch [Your] treasure.”
I’m so thankful, Lord, for this love,
shown by the greatest measure.

Such love has purchased for me, a worm,
a garment purest white.
And thus, may passion in my heart burn,
forever, shining bright—
That others may see Your glory ablaze,
and falling at Your feet,
may find that same amazing grace
that longs to set them free.

Oh, Lord, that they may see Your Son
clothed in a crimson robe—
who clothed Himself in such a one
to clothe them with His own,
a robe of righteousness so pure
it cannot be destroyed,
but for its wearers does secure
a great, eternal joy.

This joy can be found in none other
than the One who paid the price
to make rebellious enemies
instead children, and friends, for life—
a life they go on living
eternally in His presence,
singing praises to His name,
no sound to Him more pleasant.

May many more, to You, oh Lord,
sing such hymns of love
in gratitude, with one accord
to Your throne above.
For You alone are worthy, God
of all the glory and the praise
that all our hearts could possibly give
to You, for all our days.