Life squeezes hard and chokes joy and rest.
This has been a long winter. It could get longer if I allow it. So, do I steep in the low places of bad news or listen to what the High King of Heaven has to say . . . about it?
But the voices, so many voices! Our head is overfed.
I look around my house, my workplace, my schedule, in the middle of the traffic jam embracing me tight.
Sometimes it’s enough to make a girl want to run . . . and run . . .
Where can we go to be still and know that He is God?
Where can we go to be still?
Where can we go to be?
I have a place I often run to – on the edge of Hopelessness right before you get to Hope. Back home, a small church I’ve never visited on a Sunday, but a throne room to me on the weekdays.
God understands.
Ordinarily, when I chase solitude it takes me straight up to Lancaster, the quiet place powered by mules. My Father’s voice can be heard in the cornfield. Yet, there are times spent chatting with the clouds when only the ears on the sheaves seem to be listening. Now winter naked.
I believe it was this way for our Savior, who visited wilderness cathedrals to get away from the multitudes. Busy work, loosing demons and disease, raising up dead from the grave. Things were crowding in on Him, betrayals, denials, a last supper. He needed to seek solitude and hear what His Father had to say about the cup of Gethsemane.
To hear the Voice above the voices.
And three times He asked Let this cup pass by. Don’t we ask the same thing?
He needed to know His Father’s will. So do we.
Concentrate . . . consecrate . . . be there . . . for a moment . . .
When He calls me out of the race for a timeout . . . to the closet in the cornfield, I go. Even in winter when fields are as leveled as I am. Where life waits idle, brought forth again, in a new season.
Do you have a secret chamber where you go . . . to be?
He is as near as our knee.
Verna
Verna,
Thank you for this reminder. As the release of my book moves closer, this is a conversation I’ve had with my husband and some friends. I can’t set my alarm any earlier or stay up any later yet I NEED my time with the Lord, resting at His feet – listening for His words. My commute to work is less than five minutes so instead of quiet I blare the worship music. A place I find some much needed quiet, rest, and solitude is sometimes in my comfy chair early in the morning. I let the laundry and dishes go for the day and just enjoy time with our Savior. As the sun streams through the window this morning and the temperature outside is supposed to be in the 50’s this weekend – I am shoveling off the deck. This is my favorite place of quiet and solitude. Even if it is with a sweater or jacket, I feel more time absorbing the Son in the days to come.
Your words are a blessing this morning.
Lisa M Buske
http://LisaMBuske.com
Thank you, Lisa, I look forward to your book! Yep, and I have one of those comfy prayer chairs that awaits me at 5 in the dawn . . . quiet. Thanks so much for your kind comment.
I’m on my back deck right wrapped up n a blanket but soaking in the buds on the trees that are whispering “spring is coming.” But no matter whether it be warm or cold, winter or spring, the heat of summer or crispness of fall, Father calls me to seek Him in that quiet place. Thanks, as always, Verna, for sharing your heart.
And your back porch is a great quiet place . . . and thank you always for adding a beautiful touch by your comment, Marlene.
Thanks for your transparency, Verna. I love what you said in the end, “He is as near as our knee.” Praying we all make time to visit Him in the prayer closet, where we will find healing and refreshment.
In the prayer closet – anywhere at all . . . the only place we find healing and refreshment, thank you Laura.
Thank you for the beautiful reminder that He’s always calling us to Himself.
Always, always . . . doesn’t this amaze you, Vonda? It sure does me . . .