Spontaneity often leads to
the splendor of unplanned memories.
It happened to our family this morning. The
girl in me blurted out, “Let’s go for a bike ride and have prayer time in
the park!”
It's soothing to have a
husband that responds to sudden impulse from his wife. I'm very blessed.
We took off on our bikes to
Wicker Park. It was a gorgeous day. The combination of a gentle breeze, little
humidity, and perfect company, uncovered a moment in time we shall never
forget. Apart from Caleb cutting in front of me and landing on my back in the
grass, we enjoyed each other tremendously. In fact, my fall was soft and part
of the fun we all experienced.
As we arrived and
dismounted from our bikes, there, nestled among the grandeur-wooded trees was a picnic table recessed away from the buzz of exercising feet.
We took a moment to
reflect on thoughts presented from the preaching on Sunday. It was then I
looked up. The trees were holding hands. Their thick branches were overlapped with a
rich canopy of green stretching forever across the park. The sun
flickered through pockets of little openings, beams of light hitting the ground
and painting the grass with clusters of leafy shadows. Squirrels raced
each other up and down thick trunks. Birds worked feverishly, then rested and
nestled in the branches.
It was glorious and I surrendered
to the tears welling up.
It suddenly occurred to me
after a friend had reached out with a heart rendering text that she was not
alone and neither are we. There were no words to respond to her pain-filled
message. My thoughts fell short of her God-sized need for comfort and any
attempt on my part would devalue her suffering. It was best to be silent. I acknowledge
the text but did not respond with a solution.
No response is indeed a
response and often the more elegant reply. Far easier it is for us to respond
without taking the time to consider the sender’s words and deeper need at the
time. If you don’t know what to say, pause and pray your way to words of
encouragement. Less is often best. We do not know it all.
With a heart that broke
inside for her, tears falling and mouth quivering, I looked up and whispered,
“She’s not alone. We never are." Somehow, we are united through suffering in a
way that far exceeds the bond of affection we feel through many friendships.
Our suffering glues us at a heart-level to others and is synonymous
with the surrounding trees.
Look up when you hurt the most. Look at the deep-rooted
timber and the branches stretching across to hold hands. It’s a canopy of splendor,
cascading light, and shadows that splash across the grass like an artist with a
paintbrush carefully completing his or her masterpiece.
We’re not alone. We never
are!”
Life is often routine and
very predictable. God often reminds me through His creation, that during times
of deep heartache and loneliness, we do have company.
We can learn a lot by
looking up. His landscape is full of lessons.
The sense of darkness during suffering is often an eclipse caused from the pain of what we are experiencing and often a misperception of the facts.
Living for any length of time in a state of anguish can be lonely and tiring however, we must look up and consider that God's angle is very different. We are all a work in progress and His handiwork, you and I, are a true work of art.
We must listen to the voice of truth during our prayer time and Bible reading. He makes everything crystal clear.
As a Believer, we are a
stunning creation synonymous with a splendid tree. The leaves on our branches are green and
plump in proportion to our food source. Roots grow deep when we drink from
God’s well. His Word must nourish us each day or we will wither from the heat of
every trial.
The sap of the Spirit, the Holy Spirit that dwells in us, runs
through the Believer’s bough and breathes life into the fruit and indeed the
surrounding atmosphere.
The light filtering through
the canopy reminded me, that when we look up to God and say, “I hurt but I
trust you,” it filters truth and opens our eyes to the adjoining trees
overlapping our branches.
We are never alone.
There is glory in our
deepest pain. Getting alone with God will sustain you. It is vital! He is our
husbandman and the pain is all part of preparing you for His purpose and glory.
Reach out to others during
your grief. Getting alone with God will definitely revive you but you must transfer your hurt at the foot of an old rugged cross. Jesus paid for it all.
The loneliness is often the
distance created by grief and feelings of despair. It is good to grieve, but
healing comes in proportion to how we water and feed our souls from God’s Word.
Pencil your thoughts and
present them to God. Every tear matters to Him.
Drink from His well and
look up. Your branches connect to others. Reach out! Your pain is organic and
your life is producing even when you can't sense it.
Let go of the fear, release the anger, and look up
to Him in faith. Your tree must be synonymous with a life that bears fruit all season.
“Blessed is the man that
trusteth in the Lord, and whose hope the LORD is. For he shall be as a tree
planted by the waters, and that spreadeth out her roots by the river, and shall
not see when heat cometh, but her leaf shall be green; and shall not be careful
in the year of drought, neither shall cease from yielding fruit.” Jeremiah 17:7-8
So many Believers’ are
united in suffering. They are there to hold hands. Just reach out and share His
splendor. You will flourish, even if the ax of hurt strikes you hard.
Sandalwood has the most
magnificent fragrance however, you must strike the trunk with a sharp
object before any scent is released and permeates the forest.
How this reminds me of my
own life and the tough times I have been through and perpetuate. Without suffering,
I would not reflect our sweet smelling Saviour. Without experiencing the hurt,
His artisanship would remain enclosed.
As God’s children, we are
to light this world.
Rise from behind the bough
of brokenness; otherwise your fragrance is concealed. Society needs the savor
of a testimony that ignites hope and offers life evermore.
You were designed to shine
in the little day-to-day moments that make a BIG impact on others. Your own
world needs the hope of a tried hand trusting Jesus all the way.
Everything has a season. Your trial will end.
We have so much to give
when we are broken but we must look to God, appreciate our Maker and the
essence of who we are through Christ.
So many of us are knit at
the heart; not professing to understand your unique pain, but rather reaching
out in love and in essence, a comrade.
“That the trial of your faith, being
much more precious than of gold that perisheth, though it be tried with fire,
might be found unto praise and honour and glory at the appearing of Jesus
Christ:” 1 Peter 1:7
You are not alone with
Jesus. You never are.
From the Heart of Deborah
Choma
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