Feeling out of sorts like the snowman art hanging on the wall into the New Year.
Remnants of white lights, a shiny candlestick red, and candy cane stripes left behind. Another tub of decorations to pack, can’t quite wrap Christmas up; decorated in stages, now the putting away in stages. Tired.
The crush of busy, a list of to-do’s, and must-do’s. Longing for the quiet, the refreshing, the more of God that I desperately need. Reality nudges hard; juggling schedules, kids stressing and fussing, time escaping faster than I can slow it still, and the knowing that I’m not enough. Looking, longing for that deep, strengthening joy. Learning to find a heart of thankfulness in all things, even in the “not-enough’s” and my failures strong. Sharpening the skill of seeing the good, the lovely that only God can make out of all things.
The end of the week, I take time. I must take time. The loud voices screaming, articulating how I must act, what I must be, and what I should do. I refuse to listen to the noise that never stops, to give way to the crushing weight of expectations this day.
The clock edges onward; I can’t escape it’s moving, it’s ticking, it’s pushing into the next moment. I set, I pray, I think, I write, I soak as my battery finds a way to charge up again. A week of running and pouring out; now I shut it all off to simply hear my Father’s voice. The shutdown must come, before the powerup can run.
[Tweet “You cannot stop time, but you can make time to stop and power up.”]
The house quiet; hot coffee soothing, strong, and full. Bible open. “For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you received the Spirit of adoption, by whom we cry out, “Abba,Father!” (Romans 8:15). Slave to fear again, how did God know? Know that I conquer strong through His strength, and then seemingly without knowing how, I am undone and find myself floundering back again in the field of fear. How do I find my way back there time and again?
This is not the way our God planned it, for you and I, but he sees our humanity and the faultiness of it. Thank you God for knowing, for coming to earth to experience this train ride of humanity filled with weakness. For sacrificing all, that we might know your sustaining power to combat our frailty.
Adopted in, I’m His child. My destiny is not losing hope in the field of fear, but recognizing the benefits as an adopted son or daughter; adopted into a new family, with a Father who has everything I will ever need, want or desire. An inheritance that begins in the here and now, carrying on into eternity long. I must stop, take notice, and claim the benefits of my inheritance. The spirit of slavery must flee, the Spirit of adoption is where I experience freedom!
The learning, the growing in this faith-filled-journey comes slow, in stages; like the putting up and taking down of this Christmas past. I invite you to carve out moments to shut down. Stop obsessing over the heavy baggage of “not-enough’s”, over the Christmas decorations not all put away, over the limited budget, over the laundry baskets full, the extra 10 pounds clinging on for dear life and expectations not met. “There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love” (1 John 4:18).
I’m right there with you my friend; learning, growing, and grasping each day for the believing, for the knowing that God has what you and I lack, waiting and ready for us. Let the heavy baggage go, you were not meant to hold tight to what our Father has already made provision for. It’s time to take time to stop; to shut-down, so your Abba, Father, can power you and I up, strong and alive in Him.
Join me on the journey,
Joelle
