The morning air is chilly. The sky is cloudless. I missed the sun coming up. The day begins.
I’m up with pup again and longing for the days I could sleep past 10.
Who remembers the way that feels, the decision to stay in bed, cool sheets and just waking only to decide to turn the pillow, pull the sheet up and languish?
Linger? Lay longer? Joining the others to realize “oh, man I needed that!” ?
The tallest of the pines in our backyard, clustered with two others and encircled by azaleas is going to have to come down,
I look up and notice a glimmer and think the sun is resting on the top pine needles. Instead, it’s the turning of their green to rusty brown, the tree is dying.
Weeks ago I came home from my time with Elizabeth. A storm had come through, pine needles littered the ground and floated in the pool.
Long stretches of bark had been stripped from the tree, bark shaved off the length of the trunk, wide deep stripes.
For a second I thought, “squirrels?” because we’ve had an overwhelming presence of them this summer.
No, lightning it was. The tall tree had been struck, had been beaten.
Soon, it will be cut down. Soon there will be an expanse of space, a clearing of backyard view, less shade on the pool.
It will be a chance for new.
I sat on the sofa and out of nowhere or maybe because I talked with my son yesterday, he’ll soon be sitting for the CPA exam.
From what I’ve heard it’s one of the toughest.
I thought of other tests, examinations that measure our knowledge, measure our faith, call upon us to dig deep into our recall of provision and know without question.
I’m still standing. I am well.
Come what may, we will endure. We’ll excel on the test that measures our believing all things are for good despite life’s batter or beating.
I remembered college professors who allowed you to “exempt” an exam or graded “on the curve”.
I remembered neither of those were ever enough grace for me when it came to biology or trigonometry.
I’m glad God’s grace is not like that. I’m thrilled to have a story that includes survival.
When it could have gone the other way.
I have a very good life despite a history of battered and beaten.
I am well.
I am here to tell. What have you endured that gives you reason to know the grace is real?
What did you feel momentarily or maybe a period of months or years, there’s no way I’ll pass this test, there’s no way I’ll endure unchanged, unhardened, secure?
The choice is ours. The choice is yours. You frame your days around the grace that never ends, the nearness of God, the truth you’ll find in the stories of ancient victims who endured.
On Saturday, I spoke with a friend about the woman cured by Jesus of her discharge of blood lasting twelve years.
A well known passage for me, filled with possibility and hope.
The woman was ashamed and so secretively she sought healing. She just touched the bottom of his robe.
The part I missed before that my friend settled on is the purpose of her being seen by Jesus.
Jesus wouldn’t let her remain unknown.
He asked her to identify herself and when she did he saw her face to face and told her, Go in peace.
“When the woman realized that she could not stay hidden, she began to tremble and fell to her knees in front of him. The whole crowd heard her explain why she had touched him and that she had been immediately healed. “Daughter,” he said to her, “your faith has made you well. Go in peace.”
Luke 8:47-48 NLT
Let’s not forget that Jesus interrupted his plans. He’d been called to heal a wealthy leader’s daughter and paused to give confirmation to a woman who’d been living in a very bad, incapacitated way.
I believe she was healed even if she’d hadn’t been told so by Him that day.
I believe Jesus wanted to see her, wanted her to allow herself to be fully known and seen.
Because maybe, if she’d walked away healed but still hidden, she’d be prone to fall back towards shame.
Jesus knew that.
Knows the same with us.
Is there something you’re enduring and half-heartedly hoping He knows?
Kneel to pray and imagine the hem of his garment. Rise to endure knowing you’re seen.
The roots of the tall pine were the nesting place for babies this year. Perfectly secluded, the baby bunnies were born and they frolicked all summer.
I loved the surprise of them, loved to call them “jackrabbit” like my granddaddy did.
They brought me joy.
The tiny roses keep spontaneously blooming bright red regardless of harsh pruning.
They are survivors.
What test are you facing? What situation a challenge of your truth of God’s grace, provision and equipping of you to endure?
His love never ends.
Provision won’t run out.
Nor does the grace he gives for endurance.
“And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation. And this hope will not lead to disappointment. For we know how dearly God loves us, because he has given us the Holy Spirit to fill our hearts with his love.”
Romans 5:4-5 NLT
Now to research trees.
I’ve always wanted a mimosa, the tree with fuzzy dark green leaves like velvet and blooms so brilliantly fuchsia, you can’t help but be hopeful, cannot help but believe!
Researching the mimosa tree, I learn that gardeners consider them a nuisance, the seeds, the pests they inhabit and such.
Matters not to me because when they decide to bloom they are so very beautiful, fragile and brilliant, a color you can not deny.
Tree experts say many mimosas don’t survive.
Yet, many do.
Continue and believe.