All In It's Place

When I sit very quietly in the morning, everything is indeed restful throughout the day.  And I feel that this is supposed to be my regular rhythm.  Starting in the quiet and leafing through pages of books and writing longhand across journals.  Reading other pages of others on a screen.  I feel very whole and integrated when I start my day this way.

The morning rain just wraps it all around an embrace filled with peace.  I sound different when I read these words to myself.  Less hurried and commanding.  Less impatient and intense.  But I also feel that I am slowly becoming very deliberate.  Knowing that I can choose what to say and what to feel.  What to see and what to say about what I am seeing.



The writing helps me ground things down.  And I wrote on my journal the verses of Ephesians 6 about the armor of God because I want to remember the words that offer a different response to the everyday anxieties I may encounter as I journey into a different chapter of my life: that is to yield myself to the One who has given me this life.

I've read these words for the past 10 years, oh yes I know them.  They teach these words to us whenever we prepare to serve a retreat in Church or face an important endeavor.  But do I really know these words?  

I hold my pen and scratch the surface of my journal and write, "Stand your ground with the belt of truth around your waist and uprightness as a breastplate." I watched the sky slowly turn a pale blue-gray.  How often do I really stand my ground with the truth keeping myself together in circumstances of anxiety?  What is the truth that I hold on to?  Is it that I can control situations?  Or is it that I really can't? And if I really can't who does? And how can uprightness be a breastplate that protects what encages my heart?

I write some more until I finish the last.  "And then you must take salvation as your helmet and the sword of the Spirit that is, the word of God."  I muse and imagine Saint Paul saying these words over me like a gentle command.  And how deep do I receive it?

Oh the clutter in our heads and our hearts usually keep us from receiving words that can give us life. But I know more now than to reject the moments where I can tune back in and really prioritize the time where I can make sure I receive them.

The stream of thoughts running through my head changes in direction.  It slows down or stops altogether.  There is no need to hurry and time passes like its going on a stroll.

The belt of truth.  Isn't what keeps us together when situations are falling apart is the knowing that we are loved?

The breastplate of righteousness. Isn't what protects our hearts from being discouraged is that we know we are loved and no judgment will take this love away?

The shoes that walks in peace.  Isn't that eagerness to spread good word about hope and peace coming from the liberating feeling of knowing that you are forgiven?

The shield of faith.  Isn't it what quenches the sting of words that accuse, criticize or condemn the knowledge that we have an everlasting love we can turn to and find comfort enough to let our faith rise up again?

The helmet of salvation.  Isn't is what keeps our minds from going into a panic or frenzy is the knowing that things are taken cared of and that somehow at the end of the day whatever was falling apart can be saved?

The sword of the Spirit.  Isn't what keeps us going are the words of life that encourage, renew, revive and cast out the anxieties that keeps our hope buried long?

I pray for more moments like this.  Uninterrupted solitary reflectiveness allowing me to wade into my space filled with unattended things: tales, issues, people, calls unanswered, fear of instability, books, appointments, photographs scattered...it goes on and all intricately woven into a complex knot.

But when moments are quiet like this it doesn't matter how complex it can be.  Everything is just held serenely in its place. 

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