Hey, Darling Siestas!
It’s 4:00 or so on a lazy Sunday afternoon. Keith has gone to play a round of golf with his buddy, Roger Parker, and Beanie and I are sitting out on the back porch. It’s hot but beautiful and I have a ceiling fan on the porch wearing itself out on my humble behalf. I’m having a cup of coffee and Beanie’s trying to have a squirrel. She’s had the hardest time since Sunny died. She’d been really lethargic before she and Keith left town for a few days but when she got back and still no Sunny, she decided to wage a hunger strike. It’s not like she doesn’t know where Sunny is because Keith purposely let her see that he was burying her. The sweet girl’s just never been alone before. Curtis and Amanda let us borrow Beckham (the Golden Retriever version of Clifford the Big Red Dog) last weekend and that helped. Maybe they’ll let him spend some time over here again this week. Until then, we’re throwing out a few handfuls of dried corn to attract squirrels in the yard to fire up some enthusiasm in our depressed birddog. And it’s working. She wants squirrel meat for supper in the worst way. Keith might be a redneck with a spade in the Bluebell but he’s not liable deep fry a squirrel and stir up some brown gravy in the skillet with it. We’re just giving Beanie something to dream about.
This morning in my quiet time before church, I read something that spoke to me and I thought I’d share it with you. Pastor Gregg has our whole congregation go through the same devotional book every year and this year he chose the classic “Streams in the Desert.” (L.B. Cowman) Like many of you, I’ve done it before but not in five or so years and it’s well worth doing again and again. You can tell from the title that it’s geared particularly to people going through very difficult trials and sufferings. If that’s you right now (and I’m so sorry if it is and love you so much), you really ought to look into getting ahold of a copy. Restoration after a deep hurt or loss can take longer than our flesh and blood encouragers can stand sometimes. They can wear out in the length and breadth of our need and, to be honest, rightly so. They were never meant to be saviors for us. A book like this can be used of God to encourage you through a painful time every single day for a solid year. And, oh, what a difference a year makes!
The lead verse for this morning’s entry was Isaiah 28:12. Of God the prophet Isaiah wrote, “He said, ‘This is a resting place, let the weary rest’; and, ‘This is a place of repose’ – but they would not listen.” Here’s a little of what followed (originally written by Charles Spurgeon):
“Why do you worry? What possible use does your worrying serve? You are aboard such a large ship that you would be unable to steer even if your Captain placed you at the helm. You would not even be able to adjust the sails, yet you worry as if you were the captain or the helmsman of the vessel. Be quiet, dear soul – God is the Master! Do you think all the commotion and the uproar of this life is evidence that God has left His throne? He has not! His mighty steeds rush furiously ahead, and His chariots are the storms themselves. (Pause, Siestas, and hear the sound of those mighty steeds in your spirit. Feel their hoof-beats pound in your chest. He’s on His mighty way!) But the horses have bridles, and it is God who holds the reins, guiding the chariots as He wills! Our God Jehovah is still the Master! Believe this and you will have peace. ‘Don’t be afraid’ (Matt. 14:27).”
My favorite line: “You are aboard such a large ship that you would be unable to steer even if your Captain placed you at the helm.” So, we might as well stop trying. Anyway, with the best intentions we’d steer that Titanic smack into the next iceberg with all our loved ones on board. You don’t let your two-year old steer the car no matter how she might kick and scream from the backseat. God’s too wise to let our control issues work out for us. If we keep insisting, He might let us give it a hand for a while but, sooner or later, we’ll hit the iceberg. And the iceberg is He.
Regardless of how convinced we are, God has not placed us in control of our environments nor are we responsible for how everyone is behaving or how things will turn out. He is still God and, yes, even over “this,” whatever your “this” may be. His, Beloved Siestas, is a LARGE SHIP. Something much bigger than we can picture is going on from a God’s-eye view. Our trials are allowed so that Christ may be formed in us and then, through us, serve that greater purpose. Worry always and only forms thicker flesh in us and weights us down until we cannot walk where the Spirit would take us.
I’ve come to learn from God that worry is a waving red flag to the enemy. It is a dead giveaway that the person owning it does not trust God. The shield of faith is down. So fire when ready. Every time we’re tempted to take it all on and worry something to death, let’s say aloud from the depths of our souls, “I choose to trust You, Lord. I choose trust. I choose You.”
Be quiet, Dear Soul! God is the Master! Don’t be afraid.
With dearest love,
beth
PS. Melissa just called me and said, “Mom, be sure and tell the Siestas how proud we are of the ones who tried making the tarts!” So, because I love her and love you, here’s a huge “hats off!” to each of you and especially to Katie and His Treasured Possession for posting links to their pictures! I’m floored at this multi-talented group! And hungry. I think I’ll get off here and go check the fridg for a can of whipped cream.
