Lilacs in the yard, c. 2015 |
"Hush.
You have naught to say. Shhhh. No one cares about your little life
and your little happenings. Shhhhhhhhh. You are uninteresting and
unlearned. Just move along, someone else is writing to them; someone
else is praying. That's it: just pray. Pray a little prayer from your
unbelieving state of heart and get back to your own life. That sort
of praying is enough; feeble and frail is better than nothing.
Shhhhhhhhh."
“Death
and life are in the power of the tongue.” Hold yours and what will
be the outcome? Life or death? To suppress the giving of yourself is
to hoard. “Freely you have received, freely give.” The voice that
tells you that you have nothing of note or worth to say is not that
of God's.
How
oft have I thought to write to a missionary wife, or a friend, a
relative, or to the pastor's wife and have had my actions altered by
the persistant voices in my head that tell me what I have to say will
do no good, will not be interesting enough, will not be able to be
maintained consistently so why start? “For who has despised the day of small things?” Zechariah 4:10.
A
spring day. My thoughts scattered, racing, sprinkled with lies.
Trying to sort, trying to come out from underneath the negative
onslaught, knowing truth is within and is trying to be heard amongst
the din. When all of a sudden a burst of a fragrance, a glorious
distraction from this earthly below calling my attention to
the things of the above. The scent of a lilac bush drifting
delicately across the ocean of air surrounding me, engulfs my senses
as a whirlpool catches up the weathered leaf. My thoughts are
arrested. My God speaks. I hear. I believe. I regain my focus and put
all thoughts into their place. I am the queen of my own kingdom-mind.
I control my thoughts as my Saviour has supremely requested that I
do: “Casting down imaginations and every high thing that exalteth
itself against the knowledge of God, and bringing into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ.”
I
confront the devilish accuser and tell him, “Shhhh. You have naught
to say. I care not about your little life and your little thoughts.
Shhhhhh. Great and mighty is He that dwells in me and therefore my
life has the seeds of great and mighty to scatter about. Your evil
thoughts and ways are uninteresting to me for my attention is on the
Lovely and Beautiful One whose name is Everlasting and Whose
nail-scarred hands outstretch past the distance from the East to the
West. Hush! Just move along, defeated one, for I have things to say,
to write, to pray. For others, that are as I, trapped in these
earthly vessels of clay, are in need of refreshing from the cool
spring of God's own Word. For the Living Fount of Life, the Well
Spring from on High has touched my soul and now I must share... if even
just a drop."
Even
a consistent mist nourishes a land.
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