As I walked my dog this frigid morning, I saw a woman sweeping her fall leaves into four separate piles in the middle of the street. Although confused at her road-piles, I commented on her ability to be thorough. She gave me a quick smile and said, “Well, you know…” *turned away* mumble mumble mumble…
I figure she’s sweeping away some worries. Perhaps she’s pushing her burdens far enough away to where the wind will carry them because they’re just too heavy to hold, or maybe she just needs to keep moving.
Because, if you’re anyone who has gone through trials, you understand how sometimes you’ve got to keep moving, because, well, you know…
God knew that when Noah was stuck inside the boat while the world was dying all around him, he had to keep moving. The decks of mouths to feed, the piles of things that needed to be shoveled who-knows-where, back-breaking labor to endure—and you know it had to smell like heck, but he had to move because he was escorting humanity toward survival, and if he stayed still to think about the state of things, he would feel the weight of only what God can carry.
Sometimes, it seems like there’s too much to do—too many errands to run and rooms to clean and mouths to feed—it may be the time to put aside the busy work and rest. But there also comes a season where sweating it out is to purge what we can’t hold. Don’t forget–God’s still steering the boat.
How is your week coming along? May your labor lead to the promised land.
Good Monday, friends.
I hope this day brings you unexpected blessings (Did you win a copy of Faith Seekers from last week’s contest? Check your inbox to find out).
The thing I’m hearing from a lot of people is that the rundown from 2014 is such a mixture of blessings/struggles that it ends up being a heavy year regardless of the good. Yea, sometimes it’s hard to shuffle through it all.
I had a great year with some shadows mixed in like most, but what stands in front of me, staring me in the eyes with fire-hot intensity are these words of wisdom from Hannah.
Have a blessed week, and remember:
When I was little, maybe around five, the front of our house was coated in flies. They came with the dairy farm up the road, buzzing around the faces of cows and outdoor kids, flying in homes as doors were opened. We swatted those pests like no one’s business.
I liked to sweep my arm up and down the exterior wall, making the flies flee in a wave, only to find them coating it like black wallpaper a few seconds later.
It was as if they swallowed the wall beneath – the one stacked and mortared by my parents after work and on weekends. Mom and Pop layered bricks and pounded in beams for ten years, only to have an entire side hidden by flies.
My grandma could catch them in her hand. It was awesome. I took up the hobby for a while until I got bored. What’s one fly in the hand?
But, the dairy farm closed and the fly wall disappeared. They would bring the cattle in for winters, but we were never plagued with flies like that again.
I take that back. They don’t come in buzzing, poo-nesting hordes, but dark things swarm in my face, blocking my sight as I head toward Easter. Maybe it’s the same for you. As we walk toward the Cross this month, the overstuffed schedules and heartaches lay heavy. The misspoken words, the mistakes enshroud us. Steps become shuffles and we try to catch at least one of them but what’s one in the hand? Where do we put it?
But that Jesus, He never stops working His Grace. He reminds us He already walked the horde up the hill. He let it devour His body so we could be free of it. He let His love pour down red until every single thing that plagues us is washed away. What’s underneath is His own custom-made design.
There may be flies, but they will forever be frozen in winter.