On a pale sunlit morning I woke up in the California desert, opened the curtains to the view of the pool and the craggy mountains, and I had to check my phone to find out what day of the week it was. After a few weeks of our sabbatical, time began to run together in a most wonderful way.
But even paradise has its problems. One of the kids was irrational about hotels and beds and pools. Another seeped wounded irritation that grown-ups call the shots. Two more fought over chair selections and other inconsequential matters. Someone was mad we have to go out to eat. Later someone else was mad we couldn’t go out to eat. Mountains of laundry and dishes loomed in that little vacation apartment.
I flipped the pages of this new book I’m reading about the tending of our souls and God struck me again with the same song He has been singing all summer. How many times will He need to prove it to me before it is tattooed on my soul in an ink that can never run or fade?
The words shout at me from the page.”…though you have not seen him…you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy…you are receiving the end result of your faith….”
We walk by faith and not by sight, and that is how our souls are being saved.
I woke up this morning to Texas sunlight and the sound of sprinklers in the backyard trying to save the parched grass. The kids have a nasty cough and can’t seem to get off of California time. Mr. Fantastic and I are trying not to be buried in emails and phone calls. Radiant Moms meets next week, school starts in two weeks, my two community groups begin in three. The bathroom sink leaks, the bedroom floor needs to be repaired, the backyard needs a few days of tending, and we have company coming in this weekend.
This is where my soul needs to be saved.
My will and my joy need to cross right here, and I can’t write that word “cross” without thinking of the word “death”. The years are teaching me that living is more about learning how to die than anything else. I’m not sure my flesh likes that very much. It sounds poetic and dramatic, but it feels like hell to lay down frustration, fear, and embrace the forlorn knowledge that we control very little of what happens here.
And yet His love leads right to where the cross awaits. This must be the right path after all.
Oh, soul, awake to a new kind of rejoicing, that the genuineness of your faith might be proven. Taste what can’t be seen, step out on the invisible path, and receive the end result of faith in the great God of all.