Over 20 years ago we lived in the middle of a cow pasture. There were six of us. I had become critically ill and in a series of events, we lost everything.
.
One of the parishioners of the church we attended owned a dairy farm and he offered us shelter and a job for Ray on the farm. I don't know which took more faith- the house or the job. We moved from a beautiful 4,000 plus square foot turn of the century Victorian home to this 900 sq ft home heated by a wood burning stove in the living room. Ray was raised in the Bronx in a high rise and now he milked cows. We were way out of our comfort zone.
He would get up every morning at five a.m. and while he dressed I made coffee and his breakfast. This was the only quiet time of the day that the two of us had together. We treasured this time encouraging one another that things wouldn't always be like this.
He would load the wood burning stove so the house would be warm for the children when they got up. Soon he was out the door to go to the barn.
When it was winter, it was bitter cold even in north Florida. I could hear his boots crunch as he stepped outside. I returned to the kitchen table and watched in the direction of the barn. Soon the light came on and I knew he was there.
I cannot adequately express what happened in my spirit when that light came on. It was if the darkness of the moment was flooded with light and with gratefulness. I had a husband who loved me and shelter. I was very grateful.
For the next hour I had my quiet time with the LORD before I woke the kids to get ready for the school bus. I poured my heart to Him keenly aware that I had come perilously close to dying the year before. I didn't understand the way my life was turning out, but I did know that life was a gift.
I think much time is wasted trying to figure out the whys, rather than living in this day. His mercies are new every morning and I need to appropriate them as opposed to sucking my thumb over what could have been, should have been and the willy-nilly "if onlys" of life.
He would get up every morning at five a.m. and while he dressed I made coffee and his breakfast. This was the only quiet time of the day that the two of us had together. We treasured this time encouraging one another that things wouldn't always be like this.
He would load the wood burning stove so the house would be warm for the children when they got up. Soon he was out the door to go to the barn.
When it was winter, it was bitter cold even in north Florida. I could hear his boots crunch as he stepped outside. I returned to the kitchen table and watched in the direction of the barn. Soon the light came on and I knew he was there.
I cannot adequately express what happened in my spirit when that light came on. It was if the darkness of the moment was flooded with light and with gratefulness. I had a husband who loved me and shelter. I was very grateful.
For the next hour I had my quiet time with the LORD before I woke the kids to get ready for the school bus. I poured my heart to Him keenly aware that I had come perilously close to dying the year before. I didn't understand the way my life was turning out, but I did know that life was a gift.
I think much time is wasted trying to figure out the whys, rather than living in this day. His mercies are new every morning and I need to appropriate them as opposed to sucking my thumb over what could have been, should have been and the willy-nilly "if onlys" of life.
[It is of] the LORD'S mercies that we are not consumed,
because his compassions fail not.
[They are] new every morning: great [is] thy faithfulness.
[They are] new every morning: great [is] thy faithfulness.
The LORD [is] my portion, saith my soul; therefore will I hope in him.
The LORD [is] good unto them that wait for him,
to the soul [that] seeketh him.
[It is] good that [a man] should both hope and quietly wait
for the salvation of the LORD. Lamentations 3:22-26
The LORD was my portion, not antiques and a spacious dwelling place. The LORD was my portion, not a high paced executive position. On the farm, we had nothing, not even a car. If God did not provide it, we didn't have it. My hope was in Him. Deep from within I could feel new life- life I didn't understand, but life nevertheless. It was in the early morning that I would both hope and quietly wait for the salvation of the LORD."
I make the trek back to now in this season of my life to learn once again to "quietly wait." A good friend used to tell me I sometimes get a "whiney-butt" spirit. My pastor is more direct and calls it self-pity- the superglue from hell that binds us to our past.
Quietly wait means not calling the shots and surrendering to the LORD. What fear keeps me from doing this knowing that time and time again when I have come to that place of absolute surrender, He has met me in a way that was beyond anything I could have dreamed? That fear must be identified and excised with repentance for allowing it to come again. Remember I said this knowledge began forming over 20 years ago. What distractions have been so important that I haven't had time to sit at His feet and learn of Him? Why do I continue to declare like a four year old, "I do it myself?"
Last week I went through the For My Life program again.
It had probably been four years or more since I had taken it. It was completely re-formatted and a joy. The program I took 11 years ago was like drinking out of a fire hose. It stirred up the drivenness, performance and perfectionism within me to get it all and get it all right NOW!
This new program gave me breathers to process and seem more Holy Spirit led than curriculum led. What joy to get back to the place of quietly waiting.
What are you waiting for? When you wait with Him there is a confidence that brings peace.
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