Where there is smoke . . .
Skies thicken with ash. It’s hard to see and harder to breathe. Windows closed, we pray for rain. Light candles.
Fires are ravaging Western states. Videos on the news appall us.
We pray for firefighters, military support, and volunteers. I’m told 30,000+ workers are battling flames as I write this post. More will join them before you read it.
Prayers rise for families. For homes and farms and dreams. For wilderness and places of business.
An overnight wind scours local air. But for how long?
Grateful, I open windows and see a sparrow bathing, inches away.
Such delicate yet athletic sounds, the tiny ker-plop of immersion and wet abandon.
Small feathers slough water the way I want to shed fear.
Our home is surrounded by fields of stubble and towering pines oozing pitch: Fire Bait.
All kinds of fires lick at our lives . . .
My surroundings often carry a message for me, especially when I’m afraid or sad or distracted. When I quiet myself to observe and listen closely, a parallel meaning suggests itself.
And here it is: Lately, my To-do List generates its own heat—which doesn’t compare to wildfire devastation except for this: I’m losing ground. And it scares me.
Having recently immersed in blogging and social media, the learning curve still feels aerobic.
Curiosity kicks in and ignites creative energy, which sparks more ideas . . .
It’s fun! It can also mess with my boundary governing work and rest.
Anyone else ever throw yourself into a waterbed only to bounce the love of your life over the opposite side?
I throw myself into projects. Enthusiasm? check. Commitment? check. Spiritual incubation time?
um . . .
Right now I’m like a kid with a crush when it comes to Facebook. I wake up wondering who posted, who responded to my last post.
“Likes” quench a writer’s parched ego. (Don’t stop, friends . . . just pray for me, will you? To borrow a phrase from sailors at sea, I’m still finding my cyber legs.)
Meanwhile, too much “doing” muscles out my contemplative time. I get cranky. Distracted. (I get distracted anyway, just entering a room. Why am I here?)
So back to the birdbath . . .
Two inches of water, enough for one dusty sparrow, a bath like a party. I love these sounds and try to name them.
Plosh! Dipple! Splish and flitter . . .
Even made-up verbs fall short. What occurs to me is this: It’s easy to merely dabble in soul-worthy downtime, rather than diving in. Dip the proverbial toe, wade in to the knees, swish a hand around. Or . . .
Keep re-learning how to embrace “oasis.”
Honest connection with God helps me work smarter, more deeply. Learning curves, emergencies, travel, changing needs and schedules will always require adjustments of balance.
How about you? To begin afresh, we could emulate one little bird’s wholeheartedness. Then, refreshed, plunge into today’s tasks.
No matter how small, no matter how common, even the errands we run offer us chances to commune with the God of fire and rain.
What if, for this one day, we live so attentively and gratefully we edge out fear?
And what if, for this one day, we simply begin to imagine what a protective “fire line” between work and rest would like for us?
“[W]e went through fire and water,
but you [Lord] brought us to a place of abundance.”
—Psalm 66:12 (NIV)
MAKING IT PERSONAL:
What threatens the balance between work and rest for you? How will you respond?
Here’s what I’m praying today:
Help me immerse in you, God. Wash away fears and regrets over yesterday and wasted dread over tomorrow. Re-settle my feathers. Better yet, tuck me beneath a wing. Amen
Most of us can’t bulldoze a fire line. Nor are we asked to brave the inferno. But we can pray for those who do and find ways to help them.
TO AID FIREFIGHTERS AND EVACUEES, VISIT:
- http://tinyurl.com/q6dpl8e
- Make a donation online at www.redcross.org (select “Your Local Red Cross”)
- Or call 1-800-Red-Cross
- Light a candle, pray for rain
Dear One, How I revel in your presentations of struggle, insight, and hope. “Fire and Rain” attracts me, particularly, because as you may remember, balance has long been my soapbox. God knew I would be the person–ever enthusiastic, passionate–the most in need of it! I bought a brass scale, the real instrument, at an antique store last weekend, to display in my family room. The sensitive leveling of the two brass pans, each laden with varying ounce-size weights, is the fulcrum that “discerns” which side is heavy and which is lighter. Long ago I learned that the Holy Spirit, in agreement with God’s Word, is the Fulcrum for balance. The determination of the scales means that at times we’re led to place extra weight in one area, and less in another. The divine balance doesn’t always look level! Perhaps your commitment to this enriching blog is requiring a few extra weights on the side of cyber-work, but that is likely the divine balance during this launch of “Immerse in God, Emerge Refreshed.” Be encouraged! You help us immerse. I love you. A friend refreshed, Niki
Niki, my friend, your words are heartening, wise, and inspiring. The brass scale is a wonderful image for me to hold in my mind and heart as I sally forth! And, like you, “ever enthusiastic and passionate,” I am realizing, weekly, that my commitment to this cyber-enterprise is becoming a means and gift for my growth as well. Much love to you.
Just rips right down to the heart of things, as always – In your usual delicate way. Exposes your fears, but shows you know a way out. We all need to do that. To let others know that it is ok to be vulnerable, to be afraid, but all that being what it is, to have the faith to know a way to the oasis, wherever that faith is drawn from. Thank you.
John, thanks for reflecting back to me, in your thoughtful, inimitable, writerly way, that the words are doing what I hoped they would do. Not always easy, as we both know. Here’s to the oasis! May it be the well within that we draw from today.
I am a very close friend with Susie Kroseberg and Judy Nettesheim. suz and I taught together at OHS. Love both of them. I have enjoyed reading your entry here. There indeed are fires to be put out. Thank you so much for this thoughtful note. Bless you and hope you are safe.
Hello Pat Johnson, delighted to meet you! Thank you for dropping by and leaving your kind comments. I hope you’ll be back. I am thrilled to tell you it started to rain yesterday afternoon and continues today.
Laurie, you truly do express what many of us are unable to. Thanks dear lady.
Gail, thank you. Music to this writer’s ears and heart.
Don’t ever stop writing, Laurie. Your words fill my heart and my mind. I’m just praying for everything – most of all, that He hears me.
Wow, what could be a sweeter to a writer than her English teacher saying this! Thank you, Susie. I hear you. I know He does too.
Such refreshing words. I am not alone in the year past and its challenges. I hide myself in the cleft of the Rock … under His wing as the tempest blows past. But I am ever thankful for those hiding places. I am so grateful for you, Laurie. Your words and thoughts are a balm. They give me permission to slow the hurried rush of life. My love and (((hugs))) to you.
Cris, thank you so much for your words about sacred hiding places. Where would we be without God’s wing? May the goodness of slowness grace your week with wide margins for rest and refreshment! Sending love back!!
Laurie ~ Just wanted you to know that I subscribed as soon as you launched this grand adventure – and I am really enjoying your posts! Your topics, photography, musings, and invitations to join the exploration are a treasure. I am preparing to do the same on my end (creation of website/blog) and feel encouraged and uplifted as I behold how it’s unfolding so beautifully for you. With love and blessings!
Melissa, thank you so much for following. Be sure to let me know when you launch so I can subscribe. I’m grateful for the ways the Internet can link kindred spirits who might not otherwise meet and thank God for the way our paths have intersected. Blessings on your preparations!
Hi Laurie: Thanks for expressing what so many of us struggle with. We see all the devastation and can’t help the fear. Yet, if we immerse in Jesus, the fear goes away. But our schedules are too busy to do much more than dip our toes. Yes, Lord, draw us close and help us to be still and know You are God.
Your posts are lovely, Laurie.
Linda Jo, I’m grateful for our solidarity. 🙂 Thank you for writing . . . and for writing. Your posts regularly hearten and strengthen me—one more way God speaks into the noise around us.
Oh, Laurie, you’ve nailed this tension so well–it is a constant battle between the lure of the ‘other’s out there and the Jesus I have in my heart and the word I have in my hand.
I find it is a huge challenge to reclaim the quiet time I need which energizes and fills me, which tunes my ears to hear God above all the noise.
Less Facebook ‘trolling’ helps, being intentional about NOT looking at my phone for updates and remembering to do what God has called me to do–minister to the small circle He’s given me and listen to His heart towards me.
Perfect words and perfect analogies here. Thank you.
Jody, thank you for responding with such immediacy and warmth, and thank you for sharing what’s working for you. Trolling is the perfect word! I’m going to take that a step further and cartoon a “troll” with a fishing rod on a post-it, and stick it above my screen. It will help me stay light-hearted amid the tug-of-war.
You are spot-on.
Thanks!
Thank YOU, Dana. That means a lot. Thinking of you with your new schedule!!