...and a lion will lie down with a lamb

I made the decision to take the stairs up to my office and was greeted by the quiet, the morning light, the stacked unread books and scraps of paper with things that are too precious to discard. Paper. Notebooks. Myriads of penciled notes, cards, letters, things to organize and put away.

I've been avoiding the quiet of my office. I know I need this space and know the good that if always offers to me.

Time. It offers me time to open my hands, to let the cards that are in my hand be settled and organized. Time to plan.

Plan. That's what I know I'm avoiding. It's not always easy being in charge. Seems like that's been my life story. Seems I've been a caregiver of-sorts most of my life. Sometimes caring for someone you love and watching the daily struggle, it seems easier - and frankly, sometimes is - to numb yourself with mindless things. Losing yourself in music or a movie - not doing, not settling, not organizing, not planning IS what is needed.

So, sitting in my office this morning, I'm just doing that. Just sitting in this comfortable space that I love. I look around at the reminders of all that I know is true. I see the print of Van Gogh's Garden of Paradise that for me is a picture of a good Father stooping down to welcome a toddler daughter. I'm that toddler that sure needs help and open arms. This print was given to me by a lovely friend, now in heaven, who walked with our precious peer group through our spiritual direction training. She mirrored those open arms and that knowing heart.

Behind me is a work by a German priest/artist (whose name is escaping me) that I was introduced to by Trevor Hudson. In this print, there is Jesus, his face reflected in the water basin, bent over washing Peter's feet. Peter embraces Jesus with one hand and pushes him away with the other. This piece speaks to me today, speaks to me most days. Most days, I feel the tension of embracing the beauty of what is right in front of me and at the same time wanting to reject the hardness of a disease that just keeps taking. That tension is eased as I look at Peter's struggle and see Jesus bent over before him. Knowing and washing. It's overwhelming - that image of love.

In the midst of my life, this day and every day, the reality of never being alone IS the true thing I know. Knowing that I'm loved. It is overwhelming. Jesus IS right with me, the Spirit IS helping me consider and listen as I do what it is I am doing. As a beloved daughter, I'm assured my good Father IS understanding what I'm holding in my hand and in my heart. Even when, especially, when, I can't make sense of it all.

So, as best I can - not as I can't - I am seeking to be watchful. I am seeking be aware. And I'm seeking to give myself grace this morning...to pause. I'm reminded, gently, I'm really not in charge. Coming into my office, I see precious reminders of the ISNESS of my life. Looking around at things, I'm grounded in truth. Father, Son, Spirit - my Lord God - always has been, always IS, and always will be with me.

Resting.

Letting go.

Remembering.

Laughing.

Yes! A lion will lie down with a lamb.