It began with a prayer cabin day, on Monday, where I went to rest and recover from all that had been wearing me down. I thought maybe we'd just read together.
Soon enough though it was obvious: He had things to say. He went to work, showing and speaking and leading me through until I'd get so worn out, I'd have to take a nap.
I took three naps in the course of that day.
(Maybe I took two. But it felt like three.)
Then, I thought, "Ok, we're done. The rest of my week will be about catching up on all these tasks hanging out on my to-do list." But no. He had much more to do. I found that I was incapacitated for any type of actual work. He was saying: Sit. He was saying: Listen.
Thankfully, there was sunshine to sit in, on my porch. I sat down with my coffee thinking only "Oh, how nice!" and then I heard that voice of His which I have come to learn. He said: "Go get your journal" and it wasn't quite so gentle either. And I thought "uh-oh, here it comes."
Sure enough, there I sat in the sun with the crocuses, and He told it to me straight, in order to straighten out my heart.
This kept happening, all. week. long.
In His kindness, there were others to join me, to help me process,
to help me hear.
Tuesday night: I'd imagined a dinner party, a grand night with all the people I don't have time to cook for and see in a typical week of work. One by one they all dropped out though; other plans, out of town, meetings, sickness. Amy and Caleb could come, but only for a bit. So I made the food with the prayerful cooking, and I made myself a refreshing drink, and then I made another one. By the time they came I was full of speak-easy, and they laughed at me and my winging abandon. We laid it all out there, these dearest ones and I, tucked around my table. We confessed of the ugly revealed in our hearts, and spoke what we knew He was calling us into. And He moved and convicted, and they left and I went to my chair. I sat with Him, and I let Him iron out the wrinkles that I had not been noticing.
Wednesday morning: I went for the coffee and brought it to the grocery store parking lot. I found my friend Becky, loading groceries into her car. She closed the trunk, I handed her a cup, and we took off for a Holy Spirit walk. Hers is the friendship where not one word falls to the ground; hers is the friendship where He arrives in power and help. We speak what He's doing, we hear of His heart. We leave feeling like we can conquer the world, because He is the one, Victorious. We walked around the park, perspiring in the heat of the gorgeous day. Embarrassed a little, by our yoga pants and Starbucks. But I said to her "This friendship is important" and she looked at me and said "Um--this friendship is CRITICAL." And it's our friendship with Him that makes the difference.
There was more; breakfasts and lunches, afternoon lemonade dates and phone calls deep and sweet. There was sunshine and beauty and the ease of "I have time to just let myself Wait." There was an hour laid out on a massage table, where she worked on my muscles and He worked on my self-protected self, where by the end my body was loose and my heart was newly and finally free. There was the refreshment of the little things getting done without my even knowing it, and the book that fell in my lap and changed everything, reading in sunshine on my porch. There was the grace of loving the ones in my path, with overabundant and of-Him Love. There was the grace of: Seeing Him.
By Friday my to-do list had been conquered, embedded inside all of that sitting and all of that listening and all of that Him, just doing His Work. He arranged my hours and days, to be just the Thing I needed.
It felt a bit like boot-camp, and was not what I was expecting.
But because of His Kindness, I am All Good.
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