We have all heard the expression “hanging on by a thread.” Did you ever stop to think about what it might mean to be “hanging on by a thread”?
Faith is a much maligned word.
“If you only had enough faith…”
“Where is your faith?”
We have all heard these words either spoken to us or to someone we know. The Bible says that “we walk by faith not sight” (2 Cor. 5:7) and that if we have faith the size of a mustard seed we can move mountains. (Mat. 17:20)
Sitting on a log beside a quiet stream as it weaves it way through the forest, to me is peace. I used to do that often before I married Jim since my house was very close to Bull Run.
I spent many hours in those woods, near the stream, because it was my favorite place of solitude. That scenario is not as available now, so the Lord has been teaching me that peace is not dependent on location.
Streams are interesting. They display a multitude of facets. After a storm they can race, foam and spill over their banks. During a drought, they can dry up or stagnate, with mosquitoes hovering over the scummy pools. Throughout a normal spring season, the water flows serenely as it curves around the bends. Streams, like rivers, only flow in one direction. There is no going back.
So are the streams in my life.
Like a comfy, worn, ragged, favorite sweatshirt, life sometimes meanders along. Then a tidal wave comes and drastically alters the course of the stream.
So it is with the Lord. At times He allows me to peacefully follow His path; but then He turns my life completely inside out, with all of the fuzzy, bumpy, frayed edges exposed instead of hidden beneath the surface.
To me His ways are usually convoluted.
My wife, Marianne, wrote this. Where I am vision and logic, she is feeling and heart. The Lord speaks to us in very different ways, and we have learned to passionately value those differences.
Anyway, I think this was for both of us, and maybe it will speak to you too as the first of hopefully many devotionals from her.
As I was in the midst of an intense struggle over some situations in my life, the Lord spoke to my spirit: “Acceptance with joy.”
I responded, “Lord, I don’t even know what it is that I am to accept, but whatever it is, there certainly is no joy.”
For me, it became pray, pray, pray: I cried my heart out in hopes that somehow He would let me see what He wanted.
With me, the Lord speaks in pictures, and the picture He showed me was not encouraging.