I was aware of grieving the past lettings-go in these quiet moments. A solemn still-quiet settled in my spirit. An empty space preparing me to know it when I’ve deleted my completeds and face an empty slate. One of my readings I’ll share with you, but only so much as would be good for you:
“Unless we learn to grieve, we may need to live life at a distance in order to protect ourselves from pain. We may not be able to risk having anything that really matters to us or allow ourselves to be touched, oto be intimate, to care or be cared about. Untouched, we will suffer anyway. We just will not be transformed by our suffering. Grieving may be one of the most fundamental of life skills. It is the way that the heart can heal from loss and go on to love again and grow wise. If it were up to me, it would be taught in kindergarten, right up there with taking turns and sharing.” My Grandfather’s Blessings, p 145.
Later in this day: I’ve also enjoyed today the unmasking of God’s glory all about us as walked thru “the good land that I’ve brought you into, a land of brooks and rivers, springs and lakes, streams running out of the hills and down through the valleys…” Deut 8. He put his stunning artistry on display, encouraging us also to play, inviting our attention to stay—on Him. And so we did throughout this day, our first full day of Sabbatical. We’re counting on this being a preview of coming attractions, as we too let down, unmask, and become more clearly created in His image. Below is a woolly look at a close to the ground part of us.
In this regard I was reading last night of a little girl who, in kindergarten, spent the day making Halloween masks with her fellow classmates. When her mother came to pick her up, she saw her mom looking in vain to find her, even though she was just right before her eyes. She burst into tears, took off her mask, and ran to her parent. Her mom consoled her child. But the child said, “Mommy, I knew who I was behind my mask; why didn’t you?” I wondered, how much do I know of me and thee, each of us securely tucked behind the masks of our own making? Lord, unmask your glory in me, and we, as you did with your more pliant creation of sheep, streams, and silvans. Amen.
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| Vance and Bethyl's new look |
4 comments:
Powerful and touching comments; you stirred my soul as you often do.
When God urges us forward, there usually is both gain and loss. And most of us don't know how to grieve these necessary losses in a healthy way. (We certainly didn't).
My prayer is that your sabbatical will be a transformative season with times of both mourning and celebration for the past...and then excitement, vision, and vitality for the future.
May our loving Father continue to grow you from the inside out.
Bruce
Like the sheep in the picture, you are resting well, God's sheep in his pasture, not gone astray!
Paul Barnes
So good to hear your "voices" from the other side of the Pond - arrived, resting and beginning the quieter ways of sabbatical living. Thanks for the rich thoughts on grieving.
You found our sheep - they look like they are waiting for me. Let them know I'm coming. The pix are Psalm 8 illustrated. Here's to unmasking and much rest.
~ Suzanne
The new look is amazing. God continues to manifest his art and glory. May u both be filled with peace unending as you witness the marvel of his glory.
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