The words jangle. They hover in the air like a jagged piece of shrapnel before finding their mark. Straight to the heart. The all too fragile peace shatters in a moment of silence as I digest the implications of what was said. Bewilderment and fury flood in. Eventually anger and outrage give way to depression. I take the words to heart. They get up with me in the morning, I think about them as I drink my coffee, as I do my housework, run my errands, prepare the evening meal. When I lay down they are next to me on my pillow. I'm not sleeping well. For a week the words have jangled. disrupted. irritated. Made me bleed.
I stare at nothing out the windows. I sigh heavily. I rub my eyes. Wipe away tears that nobody else sees. And I constantly pray. I mutter prayers under my breath. I pray out loud. I pray over my dinner, and when I lay down to sleep. I wake in the night, with prayers on my lips, hoping God will hear me. I pray in the morning over my coffee. Please God, hear me. Show me what it is you want me to do. I'm in the dark. I thought I knew, but the words have uprooted the surety of my purpose. And my peace.
The Lord speaks to me through Pinterest, of all things. Bored, having read through five Dick Francis books in the past week, watched an entire Bernie Mac marathon, and now at loose ends, I pull up the Pinterest page. I click on Everything and absentmindedly start scrolling down. Among all the recipes for cake, pictures of horrible tattoos, and helpful tips on Why You Aren't Losing Weight, a scripture pops out and grabs my eye. It is Romans 12 vs 12. It isn't like I haven't heard it before, but the wording here is a little different. It speaks to my sliced and diced heart. It says Let your hope make you glad. Be patient in time of trouble. And never stop praying. That's all. But it's enough to make me go to the scriptures to look at the whole chapter for myself. The very first verse really stops me cold. It says: Here is what I want you to do, God helping you. Take your everyday ordinary life-your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking around life-and place it before God as an offering. I think about that. It just so happens that I have been reading all about the exodus of the children of Israel from Egypt for quite some time now, and coincidentally, about the different kinds of offerings they were to make to God. Offerings have been on my mind, you could say, so this fits right in with my thinking.
I close my eyes and decide I need to take this scripture literally. Your ordinary life. Sleeping, eating, going to work, walking around life. As an offering. With God's help. In my mind I begin to picture all the things I do in my ordinary everyday life. Everything I can think of, from waking and taking out the dogs in the morning, to cooking, and errands and housework. From my gardening, and yard work, and taking my daughter to school, and picking her up again. I lay it all on the altar. I offer it to the Lord. All the creativity he bestows on me, and the things I entertain myself with. My eating and sleeping habits. All this leads to bigger things. Before I know it I'm laying down my friendships, my relationships with my kids, and even my marriage. My worries about my house. Our current never ending on again off again employment situation. And those words. I am finally able to let them die. I can think clearly for the first time in a week.
Let your hope make you glad. My hope is in the Lord. My hope is in Jesus. I choose to let him make me glad. I feel a smile hovering on my lip. And this sigh is one of relief. Of burdens rolling off my back.
And in the words of Bernie Mac...America...this is nice... REAL nice... okay, yah, *note to self* I need to lay off the Netflix for a while.
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