I took an inadvertent break here through July. Some people announce their breaks, others give a schedule of who will blog for them or that they have prepared posts ahead of time. I did neither. I planned to post, but didn’t. Summer time has its own unique rhythm, for writing and reading. It does not mean that writing and reading do not occur. In fact often, these activities occur more. But, our mind and souls move differently as the seasons pulse. July was full of movement, people, laughter, sunshine, and very little physical stillness leaving behind wonderful memories of sand covered, salt scented children. I love being busy. I like mental activity as well, but during some seasons, it is hard to correspond physical movement with quality mental activity. Driving on car trips to visit gorgeous places and amazing people provide plenty of time to think, but little time to write out thoughts or process them well. I made the decision early on in July, that rather than pound out words for the sake of hitting the “publish” button, I would process internally, to absorb the life around me, to enjoy the gifts God has given me. I like to plan, but I have learned that plans can only be gripped with a loose thread rather than an iron chain. Instead, sometimes life just comes and writing as a reflection of life sometimes requires less planning and more merely existing.
When wars ravage the Earth, and God’s people are sent fleeing from homes and livelihoods and all earthly possessions, it is hard to sit on a beautiful beach and not feel overwhelmed. Overwhelmed because I do not deserve to sit on a beach while others suffer. Overwhelmed because I realize that the same God I praise for the calm, breezy beauty around me is the same God who has promised good to those fleeing their homes. Overwhelmed because I begin to imagine myself in their shoes and become terrified. Overwhelmed because our Father has told us not to be anxious and that can only happen through His grace. Overwhelmed because our minds cannot comprehend the suffering that some endure, pulling them closer to the cross, to Christ’s image, while others seem to live without care. Overwhelmed because over all, the Creator of the Earth has made each life, cares for each of His children, and will hold each of them without failing.
There are instances each day where my little children do not understand why we are doing what we do. They do not see the larger picture of why we leave the beach at a certain time or why ice cream at 8am is not the fabulous idea it seems to them. They do not know why bedtime tonight is part of the plan for tomorrow. They do not connect why certain choices we ordain for them now, like educational options, cultural exposure, social activities, or event the books we read are carefully planned, thinking of their individual needs, their future mental abilities, or the view of God we hope to give them. In the same way as small children, we cannot see all that God is doing in our world and lives. We live, trusting that our Father loves us, more than we even love our own children. This is the love that compels us to rest, to breath in and out, to know there is a future joy for us.
The peaceful beach, the calm summer evening, the laughing family time, the afternoon with friends, the joy of living are all foreshadowed slivers of God’s good nature. The happiness we know compared to the pain that now exists, is a tiny piece of the joy we will know. The beauty around us gives us the promise that God is not broken, that He will heal us, cure our pain, and right all wrongs one day.
Times of quiet are sometimes not quiet at all. They are often the busiest flurry of activity, thought, and noise. There is a point to being quiet, not adding to the noise. In times of noise, in times of silence, the words of Psalm 146 echo off the caverns of our hearts.
God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way, through the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea, thought its waters roar and foam, though the mountains tremble at its swelling. Selah. There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God, the holy habitation of the Most High. God is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved; God will help her when morning dawns. The nations rage, the kingdoms totter; he utters his voice, the earth melts. The LORD of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress. Selah. Come, behold the works of the LORD, how he has brought desolations on the earth. He makes wars cease to the end of the earth; he breaks the bow and shatters the spear; he burns the chariots with fire. “Be still, and know that I am God. I will be exalted in the earth!” The LORD of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress. Selah.