Right now, I am in a slow space. I’ve been sick for 2 weeks and I haven’t been able to do much of anything. My head is stuffed up way back in my ears and in my upper sinuses. Because of the congestion, I don’t get a good night’s sleep, so I’m rather tired. And all this makes me feel fuzzy headed. I can’t think straight.

In addition to the head cold, I have some sort of injury to my right foot, and I can’t walk normally. I limp. Slowly.

[I’ve been to the doctor—my ears aren’t infected, my lungs are clear, my throat is fine, and my foot has no fractures. I’ve been doing all the things I can do to get better—everything from rest, liquids, and OTC meds to vitamins, herbs and natural remedies. Apparently, I just need more time!]

As I attempt to make headway on the next set of tasks on my lists, I am getting nowhere fast. I’ve been making phone calls and sending emails, and no one is responding or I’m being told there is some other step to take before I can move forward. It feels like I’m standing still or falling behind. Which creates a pressure to move faster. Or make something happen.

In the midst of this, I sense the voice of God in my heart, calling me to something different.

I’ve been spending early mornings out on the deck, surrounded by a wall of green, formed by the tall trees bordering my backyard and the neighbors back yard, like a great outdoor room. Through a break in the trees I can see glimpses of the lake. My big, old (>100 years) oak tree is right beside me. And hummingbirds are frequent visitors to the feeder I recently put out.

It is peaceful. It is beautiful. I savor my tea, journaling, reading and praying. Grateful for all the beauty God has created. Delighting in the joys I experience:

The taste of tea
The shelter of the trees
The variety of birdsongs I can hear
The breeze through the leaves and in my hair
The cadence and comfort of scripture
The warmth of the sun
The familiar twists of the oak branches

This rhythm of sitting and soaking in beauty of every sort is good for my soul. And this physical place where I direct my senses to joy and provision and goodness opens my heart and stirs me to listen for the voice of the Holy Spirit inside me.

One way I do this is to write out my thoughts, questions, and ideas in my journal. I also write out my prayers. Writing my prayers keeps me focused on the conversation with Jesus and keeps my mind from wandering to other things. I journal nearly every morning. It is a rhythm I have cultivated, and it encourages me to pay attention to God’s guidance above other voices.

Here are a couple recent examples of how I experience this, related to the lack of progress that has been frustrating me.

One morning, journal-praying about not getting anywhere, the phrase “do not tend to the frantic” rose up in my mind. As soon as I was aware of the words, I realized a frantic feeling had been buzzing around my heart, looking for a landing place. Like an annoying insect. Jesus was pointing it out and telling me to not let it land. The sudden awareness of this low-key franticness allowed me to brush it away. The mental equivalent of shooing away a bug.

This was helpful. And yet, it still felt like I was running into roadblocks.

Another morning as I journal-prayed, I received an analogy from the Lord, “We are taking the scenic route. Enjoy the travel time.” This perspective immediately shifted my attitude and opened my heart to more goodness and joy. I knew exactly what the Lord was talking about.

Tirzah recently described how much fun she had taking a whole day to travel to Chicago (which is about 6 hours away for us.) She and Jasper left in the morning and arrived around dinnertime. There was no rush. They stopped often, exploring new places, like the tea shop where they sat and conversed with the owner (who had very specific ideas about naming their future children!) They drove with an eye out for what might be interesting, willing to detour a bit to satisfy their curiosity, and had a wonderful day.

God’s analogy of the scenic route gave me a new way to look at my progress—or lack thereof. I too have destinations ahead. There are tasks and decisions and changes I need to make as I shift my life to this new reality. And yet, I do not need to rush along the highway, concerned with getting there as fast as possible. I have time to get there, and there are places and people along the route for me to encounter and enjoy.

Knowing we are taking the scenic route, releases the pressure to get things done, and opens my heart and mind to the next side journey God has for me. Instead of becoming frustrated, I can be curious. What surprises and plans has He made for me?

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” Jeremiah 29:11 NIV

I want to approach these changes and shifts in my life with expectancy of God’s goodness, keeping in mind His companionship, and holding onto hope. Paying attention to what is around me here and now, instead of rushing towards the end. I’m still in the same circumstances, but Jesus has reframed them for me.

I have loss, sorrow, and empty spaces where Drew used to be. I’m sick. I’m tired. I’m limping. I’m not making headway on my To Do List.

This is all true, but it is not all that is true.

I still have beauty and love and goodness all around me. Daily. I have cultivated a rhythm of joy in the morning with Jesus. And I will continue to seek it out, soak it in, and share it with others. Jesus is with me, and we are taking the scenic route.

How about you?

What circumstance in your life has Jesus reframed?

What has God given you a new perspective on?

Reframing

Discoveries