Seriously, Who Counts The Grains Of Sand?

For as long as I can remember I have preferred to go barefoot over wearing shoes.  As a young child, I had very flat feet and the doctor prescribed corrective shoes.  They were very expensive and I'm thankful that my parents cared enough to prioritize the cost of "correcting" my arches; however, I didn't appreciate wearing those shoes at all.  Not only were they big and clunky, but my feet dreaded being banished from enjoying the sensations of luscious carpet, firm pavement, tender grass, or wet puddles beneath them.  More than anything else, I loved the soft, warm, and wonderful feeling of sand between my toes.

The conscious awareness of sand underfoot continues to bring delightful appreciation of the goodness of God to me even after all of these years.  Never have I dwelt on the countless individual granules touching my skin, nor have I given much thought to the possible number of grains of sand that cover the earth.  While pondering this today, I couldn't even begin to wrap my brain around such an enormous quantity.

And yet, God is very much aware of the sum of them.  More importantly, He uses that astronomical representation to remind me and us of His constant thoughts toward us.  The Creator of the Universe, of all that has ever existed, considers us precious enough to think about constantly!  Really?  Yes!  Oh, how He loves you and me!

I want to think of Him, not just when I feel the wonder of the soft particles beneath my feet or between my fingers, but always.  I want my thoughts to be turned towards the awesome God who counts every grain of sand as a precious thought of me.  I want to be free of the cumbersome things of life that banish me from enjoying the perception of His constant presence with me, in me, and around me.  I don't desire this in order to count or collect or compare, but to consider His majesty, might, and marvelous works.  I want to know Him and glorify Him forever, yes...but more importantly, I want to enjoy Him as I enjoy the sensations of His creation even against my skin.

"How precious are Your thoughts of me, O God.  They cannot be numbered!  I can't even count them; they outnumber the grains of sand!" (Psalm 139:17-18 The MSG Bible)  

Perfectionism, Performance, and Procrastination

Perfectionism is a great procrastinator.  It tells me that I have to have everything figured out before I can start something or else I will fail.  It is one of Robin Hood’s band of thieves, taking the God-breathed inspiration born in the fertile ground of my spirit and giving it over to the impoverished soil of my mind to plant with the false promise of a rich harvest.  While my mind digs through the hard, dry matter of untilled earth, the warmth of my once infused heart ponders the now cold and barren terrain robbed of the gift from the Life-giver Himself.  Oh, what a desperado this perfectionism in the guise of promise.

To the grown-up “Grami” in me it can seem to be wisdom that plans and purposes every act of the program before taking one step out into the light of day.  She co-operates unwittingly with the cloaked bandit who comes to kill Spirit-breathed purpose, who steals away the hours, days, weeks, months, and years with the false hope of well laid plans, and who destroys creative inspiration with rigid constraints of performance.  What has begun in the spirit she relegates to the keeping of the flesh and pines away for a taste of the longed for fruit.

The little “Girl” voice of faith and freedom is often drowned out by the reprimands of the older, wiser one whose fear of failure and experience of shame have long since conspired with the Kingdom marauder who preys along the wandering path.  The younger child within yielding to the world-worn one when really the little child should lead them.  She alone remembers the freshness of His breath on her face, the warmth of His love on her heart, and the joy of His favor undeserved and unearned.  She alone, this little “Girl” deep inside, resides in the living presence of sun (Son) and water (Spirit) that beacons life to blossom from seed even out of the hidden depths of unseen plan, purpose, or program.  The little feet glide easily on the tops of her Daddy’s while never even stubbing a toe as He dances her through the garden field where He has already planned and prepared to perform His good on her behalf and for His glory.  This is the path of joy and this is the path of abundance.  His presence provides the true way and brings to birth the fruitful, promised life from the seeds of Spirit-inspiration.  He alone tends, protects, and nurtures to maturity the true identity of the fruit within which produces without grandiose performance, but rather with abiding, remaining, dwelling in His presence with simplicity of faith in truth of Who He is as I AM and giver of life.  And she, this little girl of faith and freedom, enjoys the first fruits of the harvest promise and they are good!

“Are you so foolish and so senseless and so silly?  Having begun [your new life spiritually] with the [Holy] Spirit, are you now reaching perfection [by dependence] on the flesh?” (Galatians 3:3 Amplified Bible)        

Musings Of An "Older Woman" For The Young At Heart

I am a contradiction of terms to say the least. To some, conflicted would be a better word.  Perhaps being born under the sign of Gemini The Twin has something to do with it, if you go in for that kind of thing.  I don't.  I think it is much more a normal tension in the process of being and becoming.  On the one hand, I am a past-middle-aged grandmother who has experienced a wonderful and complex life spanning more than five and a half decades.  With that has come some wisdom, both worldly and heavenly...hard-earned complete with tattered heart and tears... but rich with the trophied grace of victory in Christ.  Along with that well-worn "Grami" there is a truer core deep inside me of a

little "Girl"... fresh, carefree and untethered by acceptable norms who is still learning how to know and trust her Heavenly Father for who and what He has created her to be.  The challenge for me in navigating this path of life has been to try to maintain the integrity of the innocent, adventuresome spirit of that little girl within while continuing to grow into mature glory.  The goal being that the Holy Spirit continue to transform my character into the image of Christ without too many of the world's prejudices molding me into what it defines as the expected and acceptable path of maturity.

The other day was one such example of this ongoing conflict.  It was a very rainy morning.  The kind that makes you want to linger pajama-clad for hours in front of the fireplace reading and sipping tea.  I had been... until the long lit Christmas tree beaconed me to please disrobe it and put it to bed until next season.  I was about to muster any traces of unspent energy from a weeklong bout of the flu when my sweet friend, Heather texted me to serendipitously meet her for lunch since she'd be in my area late that morning.  I hadn't planned on going out that day, but since I hadn't really been out at all for over a week, the invitation for her company wooed me out of my comfort as well as out of my long-awaited chores.

Oh, the chores!  Here we were a week into the New Year and I was already behind on all of my resolutions to get more organized.  Not only were my Christmas decorations still up (the last ones in the neighborhood as my husband ever so gently whined) and all of my regular household chores, work projects, and correspondence piled high from neglect during my illness; but my pumpkin from October was still sitting on the front doorstep! It was still so lively looking that I hadn't the heart to throw it away and it was much too old and fibrous to think of cooking.  It seemed content to co-exist with my Christmas garland, wreath, and lights.  As much as every day had been a failed attempt to get caught up and today was going to be THE day, I pushed past the thought of the piles and latched on to the life-lesson of "people over projects in prioritizing purpose".

As I rose from my "comfy chair" to turn off the fireplace, the little "Girl" voice inside said, "I think I'll wear my pink raincoat and my pink polka dot rain boots.  Maybe if I look cute today my world will feel more ordered."  You seriously didn't just say that out loud, did you? "No, I didn't say it out loud.  Besides, it's just us here so it's all good."  Why is it that we sometimes feel that if we look good on the outside that no one will see our chaos?  Do a cute pink raincoat and matching pink polka dot rain boots make all the piles go away or is it just an expression of Whose we are to be able to bring beauty to any small aspect of life that we can while we pursue the true substance of life which is relationship with people?

"What matters is not your outer appearance - the styling of your hair, the jewelry you wear, the cut of your clothes - but your inner disposition.  Cultivate inner beauty, the gentle, gracious kind that God delights in." (1 Peter 3:3-4 The Message Bible)