A sad-looking thing it is this unhinged garden gate, its weight pulling on its couplings like a ball out of socket, yet somehow miraculously and resolutely hanging on by determined screws at the post. Ah, the post. Thank goodness the post remains solid and firmly upright, imbedded as an anchor. Utterly immovable!
Have you not put a fence around him and his house and all that he has, on every side? You have blessed the work of his hands, and his possessions have increased in the land.
(Job 1:10, New Revised Standard Version)
I wonder if I look like the gate when I become unhinged? That last bolt bent and twisted from gravity’s pull, from the upheaval of extra-challenging testing pulling me down. Crooked and forlorn, grunting and grumbling. Off-kilter and uncentered, groaning and creaking, snapping and popping and protesting when I’m touched; yelping when moved, moaning as trespassers slip past and wound my spirit and soul. Yet, somehow, miraculously hanging on by one or two screws through a Power that is without a doubt not my own.
Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?
(Psalm 27: 1, New Revised Standard Version)
Oh my soul, hang in there. Restoration is on the way as the Expert brushes the rust from the screws, straightens and oils the pins and polishes the plates! Your squeaky pleas have been heard. Concede and yield, comply and hinge all trust on the Gardener to repair and realign, to reorient and rejig to Himself. To His utter immovability, to your Anchor. To the security of His tireless devotion, and the power of the most tenderest of Love!
On You and in You, my most Good and Faithful Father, do I pin and hinge all my hope, my faith and my trust!
The Lord is my rock, my fortress, and my deliverer, my God, my rock in whom I take refuge, my shield, and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.
(Psalm 18:2, New Revised Standard Version)
Soil and Seed