How do I slow, Lord? How do I push the pause? How do I place the distractions of this world aside–the technology, the to-do lists, and just be with You.
See You. Hear You.
Soak in Your Holy Word. Your beauty. Your abundant grace.
I read of others and their calendars–morning and daily worship. And I believe they are all good and worthy for the most part. But God, I’m looking in the mirror–not outside the gate. So how in the world do I stop my hurry, my constant rush of time?
I’ve heard of people, those who become deathly sick–because of busyness.
A worm ate into the root a few years ago and this beautiful vine hanging full of fruit died. I see an offshoot of the grapevine right outside my kitchen window. It is full and it is growing. This original vine was planted by my Grandparents on what they believed was sacred soil. They used the grapes to make the communion wine. Remembering You. Every Sunday. Every. Single. Sunday.
And on this morning the vine is reaching up trying to find its stronghold. The path. The way. I touch the vine warmly and redirect its path to run. Run on the bamboo stick my Daddy cut down for me. All I had to say that day was, “I saw this garden today, Daddy. And they were using bamboo to stake up their green beans. Like a teepee.” And the next day I had bamboo, freshly cut. This was no small effort for Daddy. He took the time to gather his tools and then take the trek past the cows in the pasture to the pond, cut down the reeds, carry them back to the house and sand the rough edges.
Isn’t this just like a good Daddy?
Lord, in the mirror I see new wrinkles today and tired eyes from the past few weeks. And on this Saturday I face a million tasks it seems on my “got-to-get-done list”.
But there laying on my kitchen table open, as plain as day in my Bible is the familiar story of Mary and Martha. Martha, always the busy one. And she complains to Jesus about her sister not helping her. I can recall the same issue with my brother. His job was to dry the dishes after supper. That’s it. My job was to wash them. And we had lots of dishes. He always seem to disappear once the dishes started piling up. Me, well, I would run to Mama and complain. I am certain this is a common complaint among siblings and sharing chores.
“Martha, Martha,” Jesus said. I just love the way He speaks to Martha. I believe by calling her name twice He wanted to make sure she was truly listening not only with her ears but also with her heart.
But Martha was cumbered about much serving, and came to Him, and said, Lord, dost thou not care that my sister hath left me to serve alone? bid her therefore that she help me. And Jesus answered and said unto her, Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things. But one thing is needful: and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her. Luke 10:38-42 (KJV)
The prodigal grapevine is once again clinging to the safe and the good.
And before this day turns loud I linger a little longer near the goodness of the vine to hear a memory.
There once was this little girl without a care in the world, riding her red bicyle round and round in circles on her grandparents’ carport, singing to the top of her young voice. “Jesus loves me, this I know. For the Bible tells me so.” Over and over. She sang. Circle after circle. Peddling, she rode her bicycle. And her grandpa stops his inside tasks and walks to where she was and says, I sure hear some pretty singing out here.” And he turned and walked back inside through the kitchen door. Finishing his work.
I take another glance at the grapevine and Daddy’s homemade brace made of the bamboo, placed there so many years ago. The sacred ground that grows the grapevine. Quickly those tiny new wrinkles of age turns into a smile. And sometime today I will ride my bicycle, if only for a little while, and I will sing and praise Him for all of His undeserved goodness.
Lord, I pray I will always be mindful of the good part. The forever part. The needful part. Amen.