“Peace comes not from the absence of trouble, but from the presence of God.” ~A. Maclaren

My grandson, Braden, was nine when he taught me a new color.

“Come on Meema, you gotta see this! But hurry or we’re gonna miss it!” Holding my hand, he led me around a row of pine trees and pointed to the sky beyond the cornfields.

The sunset was spectacular. We spoke in whispers.

“Braden, what color is that?”

“Oh, that’s porange. You know, pink and orange.”

We were quiet. The world was quiet.

And the huge, fluorescent porange ball floated through gray-blue sky and sank behind a black tree line.

The Jewish Sabbath begins at sunset Friday and ends sunset Saturday. Jesus grew up observing this weekly invitation to stop and enter God’s rest.

Maybe our daily rhythm is backwards. What if we started tomorrow, tonight? What if, instead of going to bed with a head full of worry, we start a new day?

An hour or so before bedtime, I disconnect from screens. I find a quiet space away from phone, TV, computer, and people. Separated from noise, I center in. I slow my brain and breathe deep.

Sometimes I read. Sometimes I pray. Sometimes all I can do is whisper Jesus’ name. This nightly rhythm saves my sanity.

My friend, when we’re exhausted, it’s easy to let the day mess with us. Work, finances, family stuff. And our mistakes often overshadow all we did right.

So, we need to intentionally interrupt our thoughts and center them on our truest source of peace.

When noise, demands, and distractions are gone ~ there’s just you and Jesus.

Wrapped in His compassion, we have courage to review the day. To see where we rocked it and where it rocked us. We soak in the good we did and accept what we can do better.

Soaking in grace, God reminds us we’re actually doing better than we think. We are human. We are forgiven. And it’s a brand new day.

So, in the morning, before our head leaves the pillow, we remember to hold on to this rest. Because the world didn’t stop its frantic pace and all our problems did not get fixed. But, when we  stay connected to God’s presence, we rise above it all.

Though the world is loud, God is not silent.

He often speaks in whispers too. From sunset to sunset, we are invited to watch and listen for the sacred to descend.

“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace … Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.” ~ Jesus, in Matthew 11:28-30

“Keep alert and pray. Otherwise temptation will overpower you. For the spirit indeed is willing, but how weak the body is!” Matthew 26:41

 

Oops. I did it again. Went to bed feeling low and woke up under the same poop cloud. So, I prayed and … POOF!! …everything was unicorns and cupcake sprinkles.

Just kidding.

My only thought was the words on a t-shirt I saw hanging on a rack at the mall: “Carpe the heck out of this day.” 

I’m not sure who created the shirt but it felt like my own little personal cheerleader. It’s a paraphrase of Horace, a Roman poet. To “Carpe Diem” is to “pluck the day, trusting as little as possible in the next one.” To enjoy life while we can. Today.

But, sometimes, we just don’t feel like carpe-ing anything but a strong cup of coffee, a good book, and a bag of Cheetos.

We all have days when our mental and physical energies are low. And we need to rest. But, aren’t you glad we aren’t just random thoughts, and hormones and flesh and bone? 

God created us with the desire to be more than the sum of our biology and human experiences. We are spirit. And that’s the most resilient part of us. So, we know when it’s time to get up. We know when our resting becomes wallowing. We know when it’s time to get real and get unstuck. So, why don’t we?

Because it’s hard. Left unchecked, our brains will choose what seems easy. Even if it’s killing us from the inside-out. Thoughts are powerful. They dictate our emotions. And emotions, left in charge, control our actions. Or inaction.

Let’s face it. Change is scary. So, we ride the loop around crazy town wanting change but not changing ourselves. Our desires and decisions to move forward collide with  resistance. And resistance is evil. It may be subtle. It may be loud. But, it’s always straight from hell. It brick walls us from living life in our divine design.

I know. I have a couple fresh bumps on my forehead.

So, it comes down to this. The pain of staying stuck has to become more painful than moving forward. Change is a choice. And we can only change ourselves.

Let’s look at what isn’t working ~ what keeps the stink cloud over us ~ and try something new. Now. To shake up our days and stir up our faith.

Now is the time to put pride aside and look at how we treat people.  Maybe instead of making demands, it’s time to make amends. Now is the time to say sorry and back it up by changing the way we roll. It’s okay if they don’t get it. Just do the right thing because it’s a battle for your spirit.

My friend, we are God’s children. We can pluck the hell out of today or we can let it pluck us out of our birthright. All the power and privileges that come with knowing who we are and Whose we are. “The thief [resistance] comes to kill and destroy.” Jesus came to give us abundant life (John 10:10). If we so choose.  And I do. One hundred percent.

Wake. Pray. Carpe. Repeat.

“Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow has not yet come. We have only today. Let us begin.” ~ Mother Theresa.

 

 

 

 

“But now, [Child of God], the Lord who created you says:

Do not be afraid, for I have ransomed you.

I have called you by name; you are mine.

When you go through deep waters and great trouble, I will be with you.

When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown!

When you walk through the fire of oppression,  you will not be burned up;

the flames will not consume you.

For I am the LORD, your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior …

Do not be afraid.“ ~ Isaiah 43:1-2 & 5

My friend, I needed this today, so I pass it on to you. We are capable of more than we know. Look at what we’ve already endured and find rest in these Promises. There’s Peace for difficult days. And Pugs. Just ‘cuz they make us smile 🙂

Photo from Pixabay.com

Some of my best memories are connected to gardens. Outside or in the house, Mom could grow anything. It’s weird talking about her in the past tense because she’s still here. On a good day, she’ll tell you, “I’m still kickin’. Just not as high.”

But, over the years, we’ve lost her in bits and pieces. Probably started long before we realized. We just chalked it up to stubbornness.

Mom was born in the bedroom of a South Dakota farmhouse and some of her best memories were running open fields with her younger brothers.

Now, that work-outside-from-morning-to-night woman doesn’t like being outdoors. At all. That piece of her is gone. The one that loved to plant and tend and grow, and putz around woods and along shorelines. The one who collected scads of drift wood and rocks and feathers and lotus pods and cool weeds and pine cones … anything that spoke to her soul … as much as we could carry.

I used to spark her memory of picking radishes, tomatoes, cucumbers, and green peppers. How we’d slice them up fresh from the garden~with the sunshine still in them~and crunch them on bread with mayo and salt and pepper. I don’t try to take here there anymore because not remembering makes her anxious. Sometimes she thinks I’m making stuff up and  looks at me like I’m “two bricks short of a load.” That’s what she’d say on a good day.

I’m not always sure she remembers me though. She senses the connection but can’t always find my name. I tell her it’s okay. If I had six kids, I’d get them mixed up too. And I remind her, “It’s okay, Momma. It’s our turn to take care of you.”

We’ve learned to roll with this new mom. If she’s unsettled, we compliment her freshly braided silver-silk hair or her painted finger nails. The ones that used to be chipped and stained from the soil. Now, she loves them painted fiery red by the CNAs at the nursing home.

We’ve learned to pray that wherever her mind takes her, it’s a happy place. Where she’s not worried about forgetting or fretting about stuff she had to leave at her house.

It’s a heart-rending journey, isn’t it? To be patient, to be creative, to see what makes them smile and roll with it. My mom’s eyes still light up at red Geraniums. My dad’s favorite. They bloom outside her window in a raised bed next to her bird feeders.

It’s strange how someone changes and all we can do is try to keep up. One minute we’re detectives helping recall a word or a name or a place. The next, we’re time travelers meeting a ninety-year-old back in time as she waits to see her mom on Mother’s Day.

My childhood friend, Laura, inspires me. She’s a bit further on this journey, as her mom has passed on. Laura lost her in bits and pieces and loved her beautifully through it.  She writes, “The loss of memory has a mind of its own that no one can predict.”

So true. From one moment to the next, a flash of clarity or maybe even a whole conversation. Or confusion and hallucinations. Then we change the subject and tease them for ordering chocolate ice cream for breakfast. That’ll spark a childlike grin.

I know it’s exhausting, my friends. Leaving their room and driving away is difficult too. But, as we let go in bits and pieces, keep looking for joy in bits and pieces. Those small but big moments when we fully live, fully present.  When we take an extra few seconds to soak in toddler hugs or  to sip creamy root beer floats with friends. Go ahead and order that loaded pepperoni pizza or maybe even soak in the sunshine of a fresh garden sandwich.

Peace, joy, and rest for your journey.

 

 

Photo from Pixabay.com