the foot of the matter

today, my devotion out of God Calling reads:

Jesus, the very thought of You, with Sweetness, fills us.

Yes. Love Me until just to think of Me means Joy and rapture. Gladness at the thought ofOne very near and dear. It is the balm for all your sorrows, the thought of Me. Healing for all physical, mental, and spiritual ills you can always find in thinking of Me, and speaking to Me. Are doubts and fears in your Hearts? Then think of Me, speak to Me. Instead of those fears and doubts there will flow into your hearts and beings such sweet Joy as is beyond any joy of earth.

This is unfailing. Never doubt it. Courage. Courage. Courage. Fear nothing.Rejoice even in your darkest places.

what a blessing that is, on this rainy day. what an encouragement. and logging on to my computer this morning, i'm reminded also, of the blessing this outlet of the internet provides me as well. such a gentle minister to my spirit, especially on darker days.

making me think about throwing rocks at the proverbial squirrels in our lives

being reminded of the times when we feel most alone, that God is saying:

Sometimes I lead you up a high mountain with only My hand to support you. The higher you climb, the more spectacular the view becomes; also, the more keenly you sense your separation from the world with all its problems. This frees you to experience exuberantly the joyous reality of my Presence. Give yourself fully to these Glory-moments, awash in dazzling Light. I will eventually lead you down the mountain. back into the community with others. Let My Light continue to shine within you as your walk among people again.

2 Corinthians 3:7; Psalm 96:6; John 8:12

thinking, in depth, of greener pastures.

How often after we turned “green” do we go back to our “stuff” Broken dreams, dashed hopes, failed marriage, bankrupt, vacant, empty, depressed, sad, incomplete, tired, worn out, exhausted, burnt out, angry, frustrated, crushed, disappointed, trapped, closed in.

David makes a very simple, but profound observation here.

God gives Life.
Not ordinary life but renewed life.

again and again over the past few years, i've come back to this place of humbling in my life. for some reason, i must be a pretty tough cookie to crumble. me? stubborn? ha!

so God bends just a little more. and just a little more. he bends me, yet doesn't break me. and i've done my share of grumbling in the process. its not always been so easy for me to rejoice in those moments.

one of my greatest heroes is julia butterfly hill. i have always loved a particular excerpt from a log of her first 100 days on top of a giant redwood named luna . even tho she felt this answer from a tree that had become her heart and voice and home, i feel it as much, Gods voice.

"think of the trees in the storm. trees don’t try and stand up straight and tall and erect, they allow themselves to be blown with the wind. If they don’t, they snap and fall. allow yourself to be blown with the wind. understand the power of letting go. do what it takes, allow yourself to blow with the wind, and know that I’m going to hold us up. Now is not the time for you to be strong. I’ll hold us up and we’ll make it through."

today i love the song "you're not alone" by meredith andrews.

my job with the state, is with an organization that provides health-care, occupational and physical therapy and residential services to adults with mental retardation. it has been a beautiful yet heartbreaking journey, at times. and it has been a great source of grief for me lately. i suddenly find myself on a teetering edge of unknown, as tho the rugs' been pulled out from under me. and while i feel this is all a part of the road God needs me to walk alone, set aside, it doesn't make it any easier to process.

some days feel relentless.

i work long shifts, caring for 2 women in their home. you'll remember ebb and flow. for reasons unknown to any of us, really, flow seems enamored with me. i've seen this tiny woman fly into rages of unbelievable proportions with more staff than i care to acknowledge. flow has also, never once, done so to me. i am the one preferred staff she turns to. i am the one person they call when nothing else works. and i don't know what it is, this magical
thread that connects us. but i love her more than mere words could ever convey.

on the verge of these changes, tho, with the job, and in my own life as well , i find that my job has shifted. that i have provided her with the best care i could give. that i have comforted her in her storms. but i am now inadvertently forced to step slowly away and watch her confusion head-on, full-throttle. i'm still there. but for circumstances beyond my control, i'm forced to realize that i can't be that person to hold her hand. that i can and will always love her. always champion her. always have her best interest at heart. but tho i am close, so close, i have to do so from afar.

i wonder, sometimes, if thats how God feels about us.

as a diabetic, one of flows most important needs, is that of proper footcare. she cries and screams, will hit and kick and bite, over someone tending to her feet. but for some reason, she does none of these things with me. always careful to approach the subject gently with her, i've somehow always managed to sucessfully work on them, without incident. staff and managers alike have asked me what the secret is. but the truth is, i have none. i just love her. and so i wash her feet.

we had a great service a few months back, about feet. and you know me and feet. i was intrigued, to say the least, when i spotted the sermon title. i found the praise and worship portion just a tad long that morning, wanting to get to the good stuff. :)

we spent that hour in john 13, where there's the story of Jesus washing the disciples' feet.

that's always got me. right about here. that He chose to do the lowliest of things. to humble Himself in that way, in effort to show His love for them. for us.

if you think about it, feet are possibly, who am i kidding, the nastiest, dirtiest portion of our bodies, with the exception of the words that can come out of our mouths. sometimes, even now, God washes my feet. and i wish i could say that i always sit there appreciative over that humbled gesture. without incident. but i don't. sometimes, i fall way short.

but how awesome is it, to have a God who doesn't hesitate to love us. to tend to our hearts and hurts. to our very brokenness. to hold our hands.

to wash our feet.