Ponderings from the Pond: The Dance of Creation.

Sitting. Like a gentle rain on a cold December day. I feel it….

Washing over me.

Surfacing from a place, I didn’t know existed …

Fear. Worry. Anxiety.  A list of impurities.  This camel back believer.  Unaware.  Unnecessarily carrying.

Leaving.  By the washing of His presence.

Though…I did nothing.  No more than enter.  His Secret Place.   

And with this bath of love. I feel the pull.  Outdoors.  Where all life dwells.

In wide open.  Where first man and first women were gifted to dwell.

And it’s easy.  Closing door. Stepping toward. Unending fields.  Wide open to grace.

And usually when I come out here. It is dry.  Clean. Sunny. Well mowed.

Five acres worth. Like a picture. Perfect.

But, this time.  All creation.  Touched from heaven.  With moisture blanketing the earth.

Yet, effortlessly.  Embracing. This imperfect picture.  While still, a perfectionist in recovery.

Stepping from square bricks.  From block house. To a world with no sharp edges. To a world where grass bends.  Freely.  Without question.

And I want to be like that.  Broken.  Easy.  Moistened with freedom….

To live without ceilings.

Then, I hear it.  Startled.  Leaves falling from alders.  As if rejoicing.  Together.  Sky diving from heaven….

While my feet remain on the ground.

And I smell it.  Burning.  Neighbor trying to free Himself.  Lifting up ambers to heaven.

This dance between earth and heaven.  Up.  Down.  Giving.  Receive….

Everywhere.

And I want to join it.

Then, in the great pond of believing….I notice.  The beauty in a drop of rain.  The beauty in this artwork God created….

When other days I had just cursed it. The rain that is.

It clings on.  Our docks rail. As if wanting to drop. But attached.  Bonded. Fearful to leave the straight edge it’s clinging on.

Then, I see it.  More sky diving.  More earth falling.  More praises rained down.  More life springing up.

The drops. Finally letting go. Earth. Moving in perfection.

And I walk.  Back.

Past alter.  Burn pit.  Reminding me of all the sacrifices I have given.  All the ways that I have asked God.  Built alters.  Sacrificed praises….

Thinking I was getting something.

And it’s wet too.  Wet.  And broken.  Why have I never noticed?

Wet wood.

And who can build a high lifted fire of praises to God….if all that’s left is wet wood?

But, then I think of Elijah.  And how nothing can stop our God.  He can burn strong….

In rain.  In the dreariest of days. On alters.  Broken.  

Especially.

And suddenly….all I have given.  Meaningless.

Soul still.  Swimming.  In love.  Just Him.  Me.

And I am enough.

Coming to my Lord.  Like grass uncut.  Broken Alters. Unable to burn perfect.  Like trees.  Soon empty.  Parachuting freely.  Love…

Just because….

Like Eve wide open.  Dancing in season with this symphony between nature and Heaven….

Before sin came.

God already designing His perfect picture.  Of creation.  Man. No need to fix it.

He is enough too.  Two enoughs.  Offering all they have for each other.

Door beckons me.  In.  And I almost miss it.  Beauty growing wild.  Uncut. Wet from life.

There.  Life growing…..Springing up.  From hardships.

Because of rain that I had always looked upon condemning.

Winter is coming.

But, this time.  I am glad the lawnmower of self did not plow across God’s creation.

His beauty….So much more glorious than our perfection.

And I let them grow.

Smiling.

Walking into my house.

Glad I sprung up.  Stepped outside.  Responding.  To God’s touch.

Humbling me. Gutting me.  Willing me to get up.  And go…

Outdoors.  Where all creation freely does it’s dance. Raining down.  Springing up.

Though I am nothing more….

Than uncut grass.



Linking with Inspire Me, Laura, Michelle, Ann