Have you ever dared to allow your inner child to imagine what it might be like to sit on God’s lap on a big comfy chair with Him, or to sit across the table and share a cuppa with Him, to lean against the doorframe and have a casual chat with Him, or even to gab with Him as you drive? I confess even as an adult I have. And regularly. I’ve imagined Him sitting in on a meeting, gardening with me, folding laundry with me, making dinner with me, even shovelling snow with me. This time though I was swept up into more than just my own imaginings, and I’m convinced what I experienced is as much for your benefit as for mine, which is the (gulp) why I’m sharing. If these words manage to bring any comfort, any hope, any wonder to even one searching heart, it’s worth my taking the risk.
If I dare reduce the very real, very tangible impressions to a soundbite, what would it be?
We are loved, and more, we have a place.
Come. Risk reading the following in first person, as if it be you recounting it, for my friend, this truly is as much for you as it is for me.
“I was sound asleep, but in my dreams I was wide awake…”
(Song of Solomon 5:2, The Message)
It was as if I had one foot in the bedroom this nighttime, the other in a stunningly spectacular Palace, so dazzling it takes the breath away. I am abuzz with excitement and eagerness, dusty and sweaty as if returning from travels, standing in the arches ready to enter an absolutely strikingly splendid Throne room. There is no palace, no golden ivory arches, no garden on earth that matches the utterly stunning magnificence! I am hugging my Bible (though I know I am welcome without it), and looking directly at my King, my Lord, resplendent in His richly elegant long and stately and radiant robes, sitting on the throne with majestic and welcoming ease. Ah, how I am filled with an inexplicable and beyond-words, beyond-deep love for Him! I am so excited to see Him, so utterly excited that it hums in me. And oh my stars He is excited to see me too! I am at home. These pillars, this floor, this whole experience – all have an inexplicable familiarity to them. “Family” and “wanted” and “Mine” seems to ring and mingle in joyful song in this place. I am relaxed, filled with the serenity of unrestricted and unlimited love, with utter security in Whose I am, with where I am. I have a place. And this moment is mine. Mine alone with Him.
He looks directly at me and in His eyes and His body language, His whole manner really, I see and am immediately drenched in a love so real, so deep, so broad, so high that I know that I can and never will see its limits, for there are none. I have the impression that we have spent time together before: out and inside the archway, on the steps, over there in the chairs surrounding that rather large and substantial round table. A flash of Him walking beside me in my garden, lifting my arms as I shovel snow, holding me as I cry, sitting with me at my computer, hanging onto the strap beside me on the crowded bus, laughing with the family at the dinner table.
“Come,” He calls me by name. “Come, dear one. Come, my precious child,” I hear in my deeps and am soaked in the warmth of the real and kind and broad and inviting smile. “Come, and take your place and sit with Me.” Ooooo! I have a place, I thrill and I can feel myself squeal with delight! I have a place with the King Most High who calls me His very. own. child!! With arms open wide, He gestures that I come close to His bosom, up upon His lap where I long to be.
I ignore the inner jeer that tries to yank me back down to the bed: Tsk! What are you doing? You’re an adult and don’t sit on anyone’s lap! and besides you’re not yet worthy – and really, let’s face it, won’t ever be. I wave its vapour away and leap forward. I just don’t care. As I run toward Him, it is as if I’m running through and am soaked in a translucent gossamer veil of Love, and all the soot and dust and smelliness of my travels seems to wash away, evaporate behind me. As I bounce forward, I am clean, sparkling even, and am covered in soft, comfortable, and humbly splendid robes. How did that happen? Surprisingly, I’m not really consumed with wanting to know, and my now soft and un-calloused feet press on the cool cobalt-blue marble-like floor as I bolt in sheer delight toward Him, the K.i.n.g., and gleefully snuggle comfortably into Him. He is delighted! This is how He sees me – how He sees us all; this is the relationship, the culmination of the Plan decided at the foundation of the world so long ago, that our Father and Jesus and the Spirit had prepared all along, and made happen by His Life and the Cross and His resurrection. I am filled with deep, deep gratitude beyond all human expression, so much so that I feel like I’m going to spontaneously combust!
I sit on His lap as He sits on His throne, my back leaning into Him as He is leaning forward around me, His Face pressed to the side of my own. His right arm is wrapped in a loving embrace, a hug around me, and His left holds the Bible that I have since opened in my lap. I have my King’s full and complete attention. He affectionately whispers my name, and I feel His breath warm not just my cheek, but radiate to consume me. I feel and hear His Heart beating.
“Show me. Show me, Papa, my King. Read its words into my mind and heart and spirit and soul and body,” I ask of Him, as eagerness to absorb what He is about to say overwhelms me. I am impressed again with the notion that to come empty-handed would be just as welcome: to come as I am, wherever I am is the most important. I have peace in where I am in the bumpy, sometimes jarring and choppy journey that brought me here, and in what I am about to learn. My eyes easily focus on the Word, and my ears on His deep and soothing voice that at the once fills the whole space and soaks my whole insides and outsides. My heart and spirit and soul lift and open themselves like a bud reaching and opening up to warmth of the sun, to the dewy rains of Spring. Even if it is correction that is coming, there is no fear bubbling up within me, no anticipation of condemnation. Rather, I know that I am truly loved, and with that there is only His honest and True wanting for my utter fullness to come to be, and so the need for – and help in – the correction of errant habit or manner in me. It is for my good, to prosper me. I swell with a whole host of emotion. With utter tenderness He wipes it all away, and fills me with His teaching and His encouragement literally lifts me up.
What other word is there than Joy? Joy watered and saturated in Love? Everything embodies Love and I am swept up in Joy in my every iota, every atom, and we share and savour and relish in it together. This, He impresses on me, all of this, is for everyone!
Our time is drawing to a close. I don’t really want to leave, but I am comfortable that I must – at least for now. The joy has not lessened in the slightest; instead another layer of contentment is added and renewed purpose is poured into me. I have a place, an important and specific place meant just for me – in this world, and in His Story: a place along my own journey with Him, intertwined with all friendships and acquaintances, and woven together within the greater and vast masterpiece that is all of His Creation, His Narrative.
“Re(a)lationship” – this I am to continuously consider. With Him. With everyone.
I am caught up: He has something exciting on the horizon! He leans in first and we share a deep, deep hug as He tenderly whispers my name. Though not sure of the details of steps ahead, their duration or direction, it doesn’t seem to matter. I am oddly content with not knowing the minutia (!!), and am cheerful and I agree to whatever He has for me yet to do. And I want to live long to do for Him! With almost a nod to the Father, the Spirit in my deeps assures me that He knows the way. I am covered. In many ways it seems.
As I bound toward the archway, clothed in freshly cleaned travel clothes, I look back and we exchange wide smiles. I will tell of this!, I promise Him. He holds my eyes, my spirit, my mind and heart and body in a crazy-loving gaze. Though I have a notion that He doesn’t really need them (after all, He is everywhere at all times I tell myself), I am captured by His delight in my sharing with Him ‘progress reports’, my ‘this and that’. Today, I am to continue to discover His Presence in my everyday, to practice ‘re(a)lationship’. I am to come back often. And He is so looking forward to the next time. I am to come as often as I wish and need, in whatever position – plight or praise, shattered or searching or singing, or anywhere in between. But I am to come. At any time. I won’t ever be interrupting Him. Never bothering Him. And never, at any time, at any moment, will I ever be alone.
God said, “My presence will go with you. I’ll see the journey to the end.”
(Exodus 33:14, The Message)
Whenever, though, they turn to face God as Moses did, God removes the veil and there they are—face-to-face! They suddenly recognize that God is a living, personal presence, not a piece of chiseled stone. (2 Corinthians 3: 16, The Message)
Soil and Seed
My hostas were just lovely this year! They grew profusely, and were wonderfully lush, with their beautiful lavender sprigs of bloom and waxy emerald leaves with streaks of cream and white fanning out in easy mounds. But it’s now Fall, and it’s time for me to set about dividing.
Apart from the task at hand, I don’t do much thinking when I divide plants. But consider what it involves: driving the razor-sharp blade of a spade around the luxurious emerald leaves to cut off the path from its outward stretching tender roots, ripping the plant from the rich soil it has so far flourished in, wiggingly and shaking and tapping that earth from its roots, slicing the plant into quarters with another keenly-honed knife to separate it, and then tearing and ripping tubers apart from their closely braided kinsmen.
As Jar-Jar Binks would say, “Ouch time!”
According to seasoned gardeners, dividing certain plants, like hostas, keeps them healthy. Its keeps them from overcrowding themselves and other plants, from otherwise producing smaller and smaller flowers and foliage as they grow in the shrinking space that affords them, crowding out and starving their centers from air and nourishment. Dividing can keep them from gobbling up and diminishing the space of other plants, and from growing completely out of control. The process of dividing though is just a bit brutal for the plant.
“In this world, you will have trouble. But, take heart! I have ovecome the world!”
We will have trouble. We will have shaking and wiggling and slicing and tapping. We will be driven from the quiet and perky beds of contented tranquility, sliced apart and thrown onto the hard pathway stones of not. Life will hum with peace, and then … !!! We will all struggle inwardly between what we believe and what is actually happening. We will all ache to find answers to the why? what? when? and search the depths and skies for saving relief as we sit in it. Oh, but friend! What immense potential lies here; lush fertile ground for the growth of my character. And more than that, I think it could very well be essential for me to grow, for without facing adversity, we would never develop, never learn, never stretch or spread out or mature to flourish further from where we are.
“Sensitivity and reactivity to noxious stimuli are essential to the well-being and survival of an organism.”
No one argues that physiologically, and spiritually, pain is a very unpleasant signal – a blaring call to attention, a yelp for treatment and help for the threshold that has been breached. But what if it’s the next chapter in our life-story, a twist in the plotline of our character that brings us to the crossroads where faith and distrust collide, or a cliffhanger that hints a celebration of glorious transformation? What if it is the stage and grounds of discovery of new buried-deep treasure, hidden as golden seeds far below in the garden beds of our spirits and souls? What if how we approach and move in the trouble, and through it, will cause a ripple effect that washes outward, far beyond ourselves and our imagination? What if our own little response could even begin the groundswell metamorphosis of phenomenal widespread change? That change we hope for in others, and in ourselves?
No test or temptation that comes your way is beyond the course of what others have had to face. All you need to remember is that God will never let you down; he’ll never let you be pushed past your limit; he’ll always be there to help you come through it.
(1 Corinthians 10:13, The Message)
Who, or who, we consider to trust, to turn to as that trouble throbs determines how we approach it, what we do with it, how we recover and heal and where we go – if it is forward into a more textured landscape of wisdom and rounding-out faith, or spinning in place and languishing in our overcrowded mob of thoughts. And that mob of thoughts is such a heavy and burdensome place! I find that if I obstinately refuse and deny my mind and heart to acknowledge and answer the call to step into the mysterious freedom of patient, kind, believing and hopefilled Love; if I squeeze my eyes shut to the Presence of my dedicated Gardener, I always lumber and stagger under the weight of lingering hurt and unanswered questions. Ah, but if I turn to the Gardener though! I begin to feel strangely much lighter, more at peace and oddly confident in His presence as the Overseer of every detail of my life. He knows. He. Knows. and I find assurance in His knowing. I just might well be able to endure this separation or division! I can even snatch faith in the glimpse of hope in its outcome!
I wince and feel my hostas pain, but not so much that it stops me from proceeding, for splendor lies ahead! I know what I’m doing will make the principle plant healthier, and will spread the beauty of its waxy emerald leaves to other parts of the garden, serving to provide shade for Impatiens, and contrasting texture and pop among the Shasta daisies! I know the timing is right, for the conditions are cooler and the air moist to alleviate the stress and encourage quicker recovery!
Likewise the Gardener must know, must see, must want for me, for us. How much more must He feel my own troubles, and yours my friend – for He has felt and lived the same! How much more must He hover and surround, must design even a peep of His Presence for us at the darkening sunset, in the discovery of His treasure planted deep within under the cover His star-light twinkle of the overnight hours, and in our stretching out transformed by growing warmth of the coming sunrise!
And friends the sunrise always comes – and with it, the hope of the breathtaking view that awaits to be shared in the fullness of the sunshine!
“For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Eternal, “plans for peace, not evil, to give you a future and hope—never forget that!” (Jeremiah 29:11, The Voice)
Soil and Seed