The Lord’s Prayer. What a simply beautiful and beautifully simple prayer.
This is part of a series of entries, and as in those prior (and the two to come), my hope is that you may join me to just sit, soak and soar together, and knit our hearts closer and closer to our most wonderful Gardener.
Papa, you are so extravagantly generous! Please give us today what we need for today, and keep us from missing the glory that is this day! And thank you Father! I just know deep in my innermosts that Your storehouses are simply overflowing with Your loving and lavish abundance, and that You delight to fulfill all Your promises of provision for every one of us – and then even favour us even more! Oh Papa, You just so delight in us! Help us to claim everything that You have promised us, and that Your Son, our Saviour, has opened the way to! Abba, You know our every need even before we even think to ask! You know too what we don’t need, so please keep it away from us, keep it far from harming the goal of your fulfillment for each of us.
Abba, You bless us so much! You bless us with what we see, what we cannot see, what we have yet to see, and with what we have come to take for granted! Oh Papa! I don’t ever want to take Your Love, Your goodness and kindness – your Heart – for granted!
You are the Father of extraordinary, beyond-imagination abundance. You are King of all there every was, is, and ever will be. You are Eminent and Excellence, worthy of all our respect and honour; the most elevated Monarch. Yet, your fierceness is protective; your jealousy safeguarding. I know that you look tenderly upon me as I dare to bound up in your lap, to dare to touch your throne of Grace. I am your child. I am welcome in your Throne Room at any time. Papa, I want it to always be in a posture of joyful awe and reverence! I know that I can dare to ask you to provide for me and all Your children everything we could possibly need for this day, and you will – everything inwardly and outwardly. You will – for our spirits and souls, and minds and hearts and bodies, for each of us uniquely, and for all of us, for the greater and greatest Good. For you, Father, are in your very nature are just so Good.
Thank you, Papa. Thank you so much.
Soil and Seed
“Whoa!” my son exclaimed with delight as he and I watched the show from under cover of our balcony, “that last one was a doozy!” After days and days of gloriously hot sunshine and cobalt-blue skies, we were blessed with a thunderstorm, and it was a humdinger. Lightening tore through the night sky to expose the bright glare of the heavens, and thunder rumbled, cracked and clapped. Enormous drops of rain plopped and plunked to the ground in urgent rapid-fire, bouncing up in discordant dance before being swallowed up by the dry landscape and sewers.
Thunderstorm. I remember how, as a very young child, that one word sent cold shivers of fear up my spine. I’d quiver as I’d hear its rumblings in the distance, and bolt for cover to hunker down to bear through the nerve-wracking crashing and booming.
“Come on!” she’d excitedly whisper. “Let’s celebrate!” and she’d pull me under the awning on the stoop as the storm rumbled and cracked around us. “Let’s dance and praise!” she’d whoop and hoot, jumping and leaping in the joyful song and triumph of it all.
Fear seemed to give way to curiosity, and I soon couldn’t help but giggle and join in. Here was my Nanna, my amazing Grandmother shaking and boogying with such exuberance, and with a smile as wide as her laugh was deep. Hand in hand, we waltzed and shimmied, oohing with every flash, and erupting with laughter as thunder shook beneath our feet. We’d count the seconds between jagged streak of lightening and the roll of thunder to determine how close its approach or retreat. “And watch just how brilliant green the leaves and grass, and how vivid and lush and vibrant the colors in the garden when it’s all over!” she’d exclaim. Later, we’d wring out and towel off over a cup of warm milk, and I’d head to bed refreshed and relaxed. Sure enough, the next morning the garden sparkled with zesty fullness and hue as if freshly painted. All through my childhood we’d together listen for the cue of distant rumbling and jitter and jive before God during many a “Cloudburst Cantata”! Delicious!
Many a storm has rumbled and loomed on the horizon, yet flashbacks of our tangos patter as mist in the halls of my memory.
“Don’t fear the rumble for you are safe,” she’d say.
Don’t be startled by the flashes, nor frightened by the thunder for it will surely pass. Allow Jesus to take the lead as hand in Hand you sway and waltz, for even within its flashing and rumbling He drenches with His thrilling goodness. Keep both eyes and ears on Him as together you break through the dark clouds, refreshed and renewed. And look! How gloriously vibrant and vivid the lush landscape before you!
Then he got up and rebuked the winds and the sea; and there was a dead calm.
Then you called out to God in your desperate condition; he got you out in the nick of time. He quieted the wind down to a whisper, put a muzzle on all the big waves. And you were so glad when the storm died down, and he led you safely back to harbor. So thank God for his marvelous love, for his miracle mercy to the children he loves.
(Psalm 107: 28-31)
Soil and Seed