Into the Unknown

slow down.

slow down long enough to breathe, long enough to feel, long enough to listen. this is the story that the Lord is weaving into my heart this summer, that He is speaking over me, shouting at me when i refuse to listen. naturally rebellious against that, i am. there is something stifling about sitting and doing nothing, the opposite is ingrained in my very being from the time of you're burning daylight and half the day is over when it's just 9am. slowing down means wasting time in my vocabulary and though there are times to rest it can never be for too long. i have to do and prove and attain, more for myself than anyone.

yet in slowing down, He speaks.


the moment i called out, you stepped in; you made my life large with strength. ps 138


so i call out. i flee the house bound for retreat, armed with only essentials. coffee to welcome the sun, an old quilt, pen and paper. i sit still for 2 straight hours and possible set a new record for myself. i read and i think and i get wrapped up in thought deeper than i have in quite some time. conversation in my head, stringing paragraph and verse and thought.

i read words of gratitude intertwining with salvation stories, with the healed leper of soul and not just body because of his thanks. words of thanksgiving bringing about the fullness of life. and then i think of the future, where the majority of my fears are held captive, heavy and binding, and the childhood memory work returns:


do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. phil 4:6


and it suddenly makes sense, this interweaving of thanks and praise and communication and letting go. and suddenly He is here. and my quiet space is quickly filling with noise and chatter as the world wakes up around me and i'm not really one to chase the supernatural but there is something about this presence.


i look behind me and you're there, then up ahead and you're there, too – your reassuring presence, coming and going. this is too much, too wonderful – i can't take it all in! ps 139


and this idea that God is in, really in, everything around me, strikes. it's easy to see where He's led in past, and Heaven knows there has been some traveling and searching and wondering. and it's not unfathomable to feel Him here in the now, though it comes in waves between distraction and busy and tired and worn. but the fact that He is already in the future, that He is present there and paving the way. that is what gets me. and it stays with me and washes away the fear and anxiety that have been taking up space in my territory for far too long.

the heat climbs and i trade books for water pouch and head into the shade of the trees. here there is not a stitch of sound save the occasional bird chirp and my shouting thoughts. slow down has come in many forms lately. it's come physically for quite some time when all i crave is to pound the pavement for as long as i want while the world sleeps in for that used to be my quiet space. it's come in canceled plans revealing open weekends and time to soak up peace when i otherwise intended to plow ahead. it's come in wrestling with hard things and realizing i need more of Him and less of me and the sure-fire way to achieve that is to s l o w  d o w n.

i traipse down the trail, passing only one soul in the next two hours. the trail map is ironically on my phone which is about to die and maybe that's intentional because sometimes you just need to get lost. so i do. and watch the sun come streaming through the trees, dancing light on beds of leaves and pine needles, visible of His presence. and i chastise myself for not listening to my mother better when she walked alongside us on the trails pointing out plants and flowers by name, all different and uniquely made and He is here.

i'd like to think that there are better ways to tap into Presence than needing to surrender to complete quiet and silence off the map and there are and i must find them more in the day-to-day living. learning. but they always say that if you want to be creative if you want to hear if you want to see, then go spend time with the Creator. why this alludes me too often, i am ashamed to think. but for today, for this moment, this is right where i need to be as i debate turning around and going back but the trees finally part at the end of the trail right where i set out to be. and those worries have turned into prayer and this reassuring presence, coming and going, i can scarce take it in!