Gently Leads

          Isaiah 40 paints a picture of God, of the Messiah, as a coming King—judging and forgiving, powerful and eternal, incomparable. The chapter ends with the famous promise that those who wait on the Lord will endure all things through His strength. I have loved this chapter for a long time, but in recent months, verse 11 has become a promise for me. Right in the middle of this royal, trumpet-like passage acclaiming God as THE Ruler of all, there is this tender little verse. It says that the Messiah “tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those that have young.”

            I appreciate this. I am very grateful to have a God who pays attention to the varying needs of His flock. It’s wonderful that He is the enduring King, but I’m so glad that He’s a shepherd too. Right now, I need a Shepherd who will carry my baby for me and lead me along gentle paths.

            One way I’ve seen this recently is in my devotions. I have been using a book published by Calvin College, of short little one-page readings tied to various random Scriptures. Most of the time, I dislike books like this. I have a hard time committing to them because there’s no continuity of concepts or passage, and I often find them shallow. This one is a pretty high-quality book of this type (in my totally unbiased opinion, of course) because the authors are all people connected with Calvin College, and many of them are thoughtful people and good writers who have written something that rings deeply true. (It probably helps that each person only had to write ONE devotional for the book; most people can be deep and wise at least ONCE.) :) Anyway, that whole attitude betrays my own bias, some of which is acceptable and comes from my personality, and some of which results from my besetting sin of pride. Either way, at the moment my bias is overcome by my circumstances. I have neither the brainpower nor the time to pursue a deeper study of Scripture. What I can do, most days, is read a passage and a page while I eat breakfast. (Or second breakfast, as the case may be.)

            And God, my Shepherd, has kindly and gently showed up to these times, just when I need Him.

Late in January, as I struggled with my fears and my failures, He reassured me with I John 4 (“Perfect love casts out fear.”). And the author that day challenged me with the thought that “…fear arises out of expectation of punishment… We expect to bear the consequences because we think we are in charge… I am attached to my fear because it is connected to my desire to be in charge of my life.” Oh yes, I know that desire—and I was reminded to let go of it, in light of God’s perfect love.

In February, as I slowly came to terms with the relentless ups and downs of being a mother, God reminded me through Gabriel’s conversation with Mary that “The Lord is with you… For nothing is impossible with God.” The woman who reflected on this passage is the mother of a young woman with severe handicaps, and her thoughts helped give me courage to pick up my responsibilities again, with God’s strength, regardless of the impossibility of the task.

The reading for February 29 made me laugh. The Scripture passage was from Isaiah 40—the segment about God being the incomprehensible God who controls the universe. What have we to teach Him? The day’s author wrote about the absurdity of God’s love for us, when we are so small and so easily confused that we can’t even set up a system of days without having to correct our time error every four years… That day I was reminded that God laughs at us and sings over us, and that we can therefore both laugh and sing.

In March, a few days before chaos erupted in our lives, in the form of moving and hosting guests all at the same time, the passage was Matthew 6 and the message was a gentle reminder to QUIT WORRYING, Laura!

Last week, after an extremely hard weekend with Kaitlyn (one of those where the good is overwhelmed by the bad, and I need to be reminded of why I had this baby in the first place…), Monday’s reading and reflection was perfect. It connected Robert Frost’s poem “Nothing Gold Can Stay” with Revelation’s description of the golden and eternal new Jerusalem. I was reminded that all good things on earth (including motherhood and babies) are temporary and sin-touched (but still good), and that heaven’s eternal glory and peace is coming. Most importantly on that day, the reflection contained a quote from a 7^th-grader about how cool it is that God gives us glimpses of perfection and joy along the way—golden moments that I can watch for and revel in, even if their surroundings are dark or difficult.

And so I can move forward again each day, graciously led by Jesus along a path that I can walk because He is beside me.

A Tropical Moment...

… while doing dishes yesterday morning.

            Recently, we bought a few tall plastic cups for everyday uses like having water with us anywhere in the house. They’re nice, though we broke one already by giving it to Kaitlyn, who dropped it with enough violence to crack a piece off the bottom. (Note to self: Plastic does NOT equal unbreakable or child friendly.)

The other night, I had been using one of those cups for water, and I put it by the sink before we went upstairs to bed. I wasn’t worried about bugs in a dirty cup, since it had only contained water. The supper dishes were clean, and this one could wait for the morning.

After breakfast the next day, I worked on the bowls and spoons and such. I picked up that cup from the night before, stuck my soapy sponge inside, and nearly had a heart attack as something dark and quick came slithering out! I practically threw the cup and sponge into the sink and (mostly) repressed the urge to scream.

A moment’s closer inspection relieved me, though, when I realized that the dark thing was a butiki, one of the small lizards that run around on the walls of our house. We like them because they eat bugs. This one was quite small—only about 2 inches long.  It must have been in the glass drinking the last bits of water from the night before. Having scared me half to death, it dashed into the sink (presumably so it could continue to get in the way of me doing dishes). I left it alone, and a few minutes later it worked its way back onto the counter and then out of sight. No harm done, but I have learned to check the insides of dishes before I try to wash them!