Writing

Lord, I don’t know what lies within. But this writing is to take the time to listen to You and find. And then, to take up a different life.
— Ann, at Holy Experience

So much of my writing is reflecting on what was or what is, but what it should really become is a way to pour out so I can change.

Lord, I am still just a hearer, and not a doer. I hear a lot of things.

The laundry being spun. The cheerful, but as of yet unintelligible, chatter of a near 2 year old. Squeals of alternating delight and disappointment as his faithful playmate, the dog, keeps a toy just out of his grasp.

A little here, a little there. Playing with building blocks. Squeezing two of them together, but then unable to separate them, squawks in frustration. “Bring it to mommy, and I will help you”, I hear myself say. But he’s thrown the blocks away and moved on to the next thing.

Ah, how much of myself I see in him. I try to do something, run into difficulty, and do not listen when my Father says “Bring it to me, child, and I will help you.” Instead, I decide that this new thing just doesn’t work, and discard it. Moving on to something else. And nothing else satisfies. Nothing else works. And I keep moving and searching and dabbling.

Lord, slow me down. Teach me to see. To wait. To bring all things to you for your help. In the way of a 2-year old, I want to do it all by myself. Trying to exert independence. Why? What will I gain. I come to you to be changed. To start to DO what it is that I’ve been thinking, talking and hearing about. Please show me what this doing looks like. It’s so easy for me to leap into legalism and striving and I know that there is a difference between striving and doing.

Jesus replied, “But even more blessed are all who hear the word of God and put it into practice.”
Luke 11:28