The Reluctant Prophet
Originally published April 2, 2021
I suppose Easter is the best time to begin a blog in earnest... a blog that I have been afraid to write for many years. It is a resurrection of sorts within my own soul, a coming to be of who I really am, an effort to display the vivid beauty that Christ created in me from the very beginning of my earthly existence. At 71, I know that I can’t take tomorrow for granted— no more excuses, no more delay to make whatever I write perfect, no second guessing. When I stand before Him in the end, I want to say I did what He asked me to do.
And so here we are at April 1, 2021. It is a sunny, beautiful morning here in our southern part of the world. The birds are jockeying to see who can make the loudest noise... the little brown jobs (LBJs) continue to build their nest behind the front porch lamp fixture...and the earthworms are disgruntled because I am turning the compost heap and adding more alfalfa.
I love the spring, even though the jobs in the garden seem endless. God teaches me so much every single day, and often the most useful lessons come when I do feel anxious and overwhelmed with tasks I have set for myself. He constantly reminds me that all is well, all is in perfect divine order. In other words, I can do the next thing and not worry.
Today, in the yard I slowed myself down from my normal frenetic pace to appreciate what I already had from God. I paid special attention to the shimmering light green lushness of the spring oak leaves; the shy new leaves budding on the just planted ginkgo and Japanese magnolia; the gorgeous magenta blossoms of a nameless wildflower that last year I might have pulled up as a weed. I marveled at the budding red maple seedling hugging a crepe myrtle and thanked God that in the fall I can give it a home of its own.
Such small things to notice... but so important for a driven person as I am. Peace comes in knowing that at any moment God’s work is getting done.. creation is continuing and does not need my frenzied activity to succeed. I can find satisfaction in my work without constantly worrying if I am doing enough.
Two thousand years ago today, Jesus was eating the last meal he would have on this earth with His disciples. He knew He was headed to the cross tomorrow, and, if He was truly human (which He was), He had to be wondering if His three-year ministry had been a success. While there were plenty of people appreciative of His healing, virtually no one really understood His messages, even His disciples. Surely Jesus was tempted as a human to stay longer, try harder, do more. But He trusted His Father knew exactly the right time for all things, and He submitted.
Those are my marching orders, too. I will find joy in my day’s work, then rest, then do it all over again, submitting to God’s perfect timing.