Sacred Spaces
Above is a photo from one of my sacred spaces. It’s at the end of a dirt path that travels along the Catawba River and ends with a simple wooden bench, inviting a rest at the end of a sojourn - both literal and figurative. It is here I found myself the Saturday before Easter last week. I had thrown a pen and two pieces of paper into my pocketed yoga pants sensing that the Lord would speak to me that day. I was seeking and He promises to answer when we ask, seek and knock.
To start, I’ll share the poem God put on my heart, but I want to encourage you to KEEP READING after the poem. You need to know the struggle I battle (that maybe we all battle?) with finding time to get alone with the Lord. This is not easy for me. But it is necessary, for He reveals Himself in these quiet places: His abundant love for us in the midst of our fallen nature. Right smack dab in the middle of His sweet caress, He gently reminds us of our undeniable need for His grace, mercy and transformative power.
Your Light Reflecting
A peaceful, narrow river
reflects upon a crooked tree.
The tiny lights are glistening
up and down so jubilantly.
Is that what it means, Lord,
to know that You are here?
Though I cannot see You,
Your presence is ever near.
Your Light is reflecting
upon the children you have saved.
Your Spirit is working -
They’re so courageous and brave.
Though You were tortured,
Your body nailed to a cross,
Your light is unfading
and still shines brightly for the lost.
I once walked so blindlythis broken tree is all I saw.
The dancing shimmer was hidden
until my name did You call.
Would I have missed You, the Truth
had I witnessed your death?
Would I have been clouded in the darkness
as you took Your last breath?
The thought, how it frightens me -
my penned words, they are paused.
I gasp and I shutter as I realize
the blood You shed, I have caused.
My sin is what nailed You
to that tree on the hill.
Yet you hollered “forgive them,”
and by your blood I am healed.
As I stare at the curiously old, twisted trunk
I become fascinated by its arching lean
I no longer see its evident frailty,
but rather the bright shimmer it gleams.
Thank you, Dear Father,
for sending Your Son.
He’s alive, He’s alive!
The victory’s won!
My date with God did not end with a writing session. It tenderly continued as the Spirit guided me along another trail. I had no set destination. I simply followed, savored and enjoyed this intimate time with my Heavenly Father. Oh, how I had needed this. Why had I not done it sooner?
When is the last time you had a date with God? I am not talking about just 15 minutes of quiet time with the Lord, but some time away (if possible) where you can spend an hour or two alone with Him? As a wife, mother of three, director of a school and owner of a small business, this is often difficult for me. Have you ever allowed your callings . . . to be your fallings? I confess; I have.
“Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me”
The Spirit graciously convicts me when I begin to pull away from the Vine of Life. I become more easily agitated. I say things like “I’m so tired” and “I feel like I’m doing this all alone.” My body aches. My mind begins to dart in a million directions. I blame others for my shortcomings. Ultimately, I feel disjointed, dysregulated and disturbed. This is what happens when I take off Jesus’ yoke and try to carry the burdens of life on my own back. It’s isolating. It’s exhausting. And it’s spiritually, physically, and emotionally debilitating.
“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for you souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light”
I am so grateful for the opportunity to serve the King of Kings, but I must remember that serving always follows abiding. If I am laboring and feeling “heavy laden” it is the Father’s gracious call to come to Him and rest. I must find a sacred place to be still and hear from the Lord, so that I can learn from the gentle and humble Creator Himself. What a privilege to be invited into His place of refuge.
For me, the places I feel closest to God are enclosed by a canopy of trees. There I feel a sense of God’s majesty, safety and holiness. Our Got-PLUCK logo was inspired by this! Look at the logo now. Do you see a flourishing tree planted by streams of water? God’s promise in Psalm 1 says that the blessed person is:
“like a tree planted by streams of water, that yields its fruit in its season, and its leaf does not wither. In all he does, he prospers.”
To live with courage, or pluck, we must plant ourselves alongside the Living Water, Jesus Christ. By faith in Him as Lord and Savior, the Spirit indwells us and produces good fruit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness and self-control (Galatians 5:22). To be able to run our Kindgom race with endurance without growing weary, we must abide. May your wellness journey have an anchored focus in the health of your soul. May we, together, design intentional time to meet God in sacred spaces.