I find myself restless, yearning for more. More of what? I do not know. I read the following psalm and think, “Whoa, this is so NOT me.”
“But I have stilled and quieted my soul;
Like a weaned child with its mother,
Like a weaned child is my soul within me.” Psalm 131-2
I am the opposite of this. My soul is rambling around, crying out.
I am reminded in Isaiah that my Father has created me. He has a unique purpose for me. He is shaping me, pushing and pulling me into a form made to serve Him.
“Yet, O lord, you are our Father.
We are the clay, you are the potter;
We are all the work of you hand.”
Isaiah 64:8
In this beautiful book of metaphors, I may be many things. Today I am clay. Today I am a tree.
Jesus says in Matthew:
“Make a tree good and its fruit will be good or make a tree bad and its fruit will be bad, for a tree is recognized by its fruit.” Matthew 12:33
Now I know that Jesus is in the business of making good trees. He wants his good trees to produce good fruit. Good trees don’t grow that way on their own. They need the loving care of a gardener. I am thankful my gardener is gentle.
My branches are stretching, seeking the sun. Looking for new places to grow. Hoping to bear good fruit.
Dear Lord, Help me to find what I am searching for. Use this restlessness to move me where you will have me. Out of the depths of my soul I cry to you:
“O Lord, hear my voice.
Let your ears be attentive
to my cry for mercy.” Psalm 130:1-2
Amen
Diona
Sixty-six books in a year 