It’s not that I don’t have time–I do
It’s not that there aren’t things to be done–there are
It’s not that there aren’t things to be said–there is
But today I am feeling old and tangled and bent and broken–
That there is always someone younger and smarter and sharper and more gifted
to say and do the things that need be said and done
Truth in a lie…
For so very long I’ve hung onto my dream of
giving expression to all the things I think need to be said and done,
constantly dredging for that gold that now
sits heavy, unbudging in deep deep waters
of this old soul
Haven’t I earned this right to say and do–
to give expression with pen and lens to truths I know
–or used to know–
perhaps still do but in a different way
With all the years of tears and toils and joys of
living and tasting and seeing
there must be a way for me to still partake
in the telling of life’s glorious secrets
I find not words…
But I have found
in seasons like this…
when I cannot…
I can encourage those who can
and so I will…
until I can again.
I drive slowly through a tangle of red lights
following who knows who to who knows where as
sirens in that red light district called “world-sanctioned” lure me
to cruise, to stop, to park awhile.
Looking for a bit of pottage to satisfy my flesh,
I have wandered into places I’ve been warned to never venture into.
Within seconds I become witness to the trafficking of
my famished, truth-starved soul.
Rushing head-long toward deception, I glance beyond
to see Truth, himself, standing … hands extended … waiting.
I notice his scarred wrists.
And I realize I have never before been loved like this–all my other lovers,
they taunted me for my unfaithfulness to them.
But He–He quietly invites me to return–to know Him as the Way.
And I accept.
He used to call me from time to time to talk to me about things the Lord had laid on his heart to tell me. My dad was like that…always thinking about how he could encourage his children and grandchildren.
Our conversations weren’t long…..much much shorter than the ones my mom and I had after he hung up the phone.
One day, years ago, he called early one morning to remind me that gasoline is a byproduct of oil.
“Remember, we never drill for gasoline; we drill for oil,” he had said. And that was all.
hmmm…. interesting conversation….short…sweet…and full of wisdom that has stayed with me throughout the years —life-changing wisdom.
And that is this: So often people try and try and try to change their behavior.
What they don’t realize is that they are drilling for gasoline!
Oil, as crude as it may appear when it comes out of the ground and requiring much refinement in order to yield a useful product, is my only hope for producing gasoline.
Christ in me is my ONLY hope of glory!
The BYPRODUCT of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, goodness, kindness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self control.
How about you? Are you still drilling for gasoline, or have you hit pay dirt?
I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. Galatians 2:20
Will I trust the God who has brought me to the land of promise to be enough for me through times of severe drought, and will I [because it really is a matter of the will] REJOICE in Him as the God of my salvation, even when the fig tree has not/is not blossoming? 1
This is the question that confronts me daily as I am learning to better know the trustworthiness of my God, not only in the comforting words of promise that He speaks to me in the light, but in the deep shadows of silence that follow as well.
He is always there —in BOTH places.
He speaks the promise; then He silently, graciously, patiently awaits my response.
There is always LIFE longing to break forth through the heap of mess that I am, and if I wait on Him, surrendering my own dead ways —receiving, hoping, rejoicing, and believing, I will see the miracle of all miracles….that death [to self] brings Life, and His Life really is more than enough!