Rocking Chairs…
Before the alarm clock has a chance to chirp its lovely morning jazz melody, my eyes pop open.
No alarm clock needed for this middle aged woman accustomed to early mornings and early bedtimes.
Quietly, I make it to the coffee maker to wake it up.
Waiting for what seems like eternity, I finally see the coffee is brewed up and ready to pour.
Tiptoeing to the front door, I open the door and barely let the door close behind me as to not wake a soul.
This time. This time is mine and mine alone.
The sweet smell of Summer, the dark sky dazzling with stars and a moon that peeks through those old pine trees by the pond.
I sip my first taste of coffee. Steam rising up from the cup and swirling its way to those bright stars.
Eyes wide awake with wonder, I look up and breathe deep.
My heart has been anxious. Over so many things.
This time on the porch brings my heart rest and peace.
Jesus is near and I can taste Him as much as my black piping hot liquid consciousness.
Too dark to see my Bible, I recite some scriptures. Going back over Psalm 23 again and again.
Like a worn out tape or CD, the words come to my heart and I say them on repeat.
The Lord is my Shepherd, I have all that I need.
What is wrong with me, I ask Him again and again.
Why do I keep coming back to this place…this place of anxious racing heart and knot in stomach?
Why can’t my heart just stay at peace?
Haven’t I learned by now that I can trust You?
Why do I have to be so stubborn to remember?
Yet. Here I am.
Rocking on front porch rocking chair.
Cement on this porch under these white chairs could tell some stories.
I have lamented, cried, poured out my offering and suffering…again and again here.
In acceptance lies peace.
I say it over again.
Jill, in acceptance lies peace.
I had read those words in Elisabeth Elliot’s book on my nightstand.
Why can I not accept some of these things, Lord?
Why is my heart disturbed?
That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong. 2 Corinthians 12:10
I let the words run deep through my veins. I need them to saturate every ounce of my soul.
His words are true and I feel them pierce.
I am truly weak.
He is truly strong.
Why can’t I just open my hands and surrender to these things that I have no control over?
Why can’t I just be middle aged, jolly and at peace?
King David spent his entire life lamenting through the book of Psalms.
Perhaps this is the way of life.
Hardships, struggles, knots in stomachs to no end…
These hard places…
They take us to the only One who can comfort and heal.
I suppose if our lives were one big plate of ice cream with a cherry on top, we would always feel full and never in need of His filling.
This emptiness, this hunger for peace…
It brings me to my front porch again and again.
Where I look up at stars and sky and expanse beyond my human understanding.
“The heavens declare the Glory of God, the skies proclaim the work of His hands.” Psalm 19:1
I feel small and it feels good.
God is Big and I am not.
I want to always know this and remember this and let it fill up this ache in my soul.
The ache for Him.
The ache for more...of Him.
He is the medicine I need.
on repeat,
jill
Psalm 23:
The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing.
2 He makes me lie down in green pastures,
he leads me beside quiet waters,
3 he refreshes my soul.
He guides me along the right paths
for his name’s sake.
4 Even though I walk
through the darkest valley,
I will fear no evil,
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff,
they comfort me.
5 You prepare a table before me
in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil;
my cup overflows.
6 Surely your goodness and love will follow me
all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the Lord
forever.
*re-posted from 8/14/22
