My life seems to have themed seasons. Does yours? Though some are clearer than others, they are always there, often marked by a key word or idea that continually comes up in various conversation, devotions and through readings. Ironically to me, it has even seemed that each season lasts just long enough for me to identify its theme and then it is done. Like a cartoon obliviously flying, just so long as he doesn’t look down. Is it like that for you?
Unlike the cartoon example, when I do look down, it is not falling that awaits me, but instead the dual realization that one season has ended and the next has begun. Additionally, I have noticed that the seasons’ hatchings-that is, the application of each season’s teaching-seems to only make full sense within the context of the next season. Like the mother who makes her child memorize the alphabet, because syllables and words are coming; I think God does this with me, strategically piecing my growth together in sub units so that I can actually comprehend and apply. He is a good teacher.
In hindsight, the last 6 or so months, my theme has seemed to be “rest” and “contentment.” Of course, the last 6 months have been full, and busy with editing and motherhood and teaching and so I interpreted the vaguely recognized theme as a reminder to sleep as long as possible, when possible. But, now, as the school year and busy Spring has come to a slow, in line with my presumption above, a new and more complete understanding of my theme has hatched. Salvation in Jesus IS rest, it IS contentment. It is not about slow, or fast. It is a state of being that flows from the security of the soul.
God knew I needed a sub-unit, as I transition out of teaching and become full time at home beginning this summer: mommy and editor. I will be content wherever I am (as Paul learned to be, Phil 4:11-12) not because one place gives me more worth than another, but because my joy is in pleasing my Father, and I love the tasks he calls me too.
This morning I was reminded of all the truth acorns God stored up in my heart (which only he and I know all of them), and he is nudging me to dig them up. I woke up with Psalms 31 in my head, which has lingered in my spirit since finding it over a month ago.. “like a weaned child within me, is my soul…” As I walked down the stairs to make a bottle for Moriah, I passed the canvas I painted during her naptimes over the course of 4 months this past winter and Spring. I stared at the painting. I call it “Roots”. Standing in front of that painting, foul breath and messy curls piled on my head at 6:55 am, all the thoughts captured in this blog came to me. So, I will end this blog, the way I ended that moment:
“God, you are always deepening my roots…” I thought to myself and smiled, before finishing my journey to the kitchen.