May 16th, 2021
I’m halfway through this month-long journal… This thirty-day journey of disciplined daily searching. Searching for the hidden amongst the mundane, the truth where much feels grey, and wisdom from behind all the noise…
The beginning of this trek always feels exciting! Everything feels newer, fresher, brighter. Nature, in particular, feels like it’s fairly bursting with life… with lessons and truths right in front of me for the picking. It’s like the first few opening days of orchard picking in the summer with the kids.
The fruit is literally hanging right in front of us - We only need to show up at the orchard, park the car, carry the baskets, head for the orchard, and reach for the fruit. The orchardists have prepared everything in advance for our arrival. They have tilled and planted, pruned and clipped, sprayed and protected the crop - all in anticipation of our arrival.
We come - ready to pick.
How this reminds me of God… putting our world together in such a way that if we look - we will see His handprints - signs of His relentless grace pursuing us… calling to us. Fruit right before our eyes, reminding us of His rich love.
And often, just as in the later days of orchard picking, the fruit gets harder to find. Filling the basket takes more determination. Discipline. Discovery. Sometimes that fruit is tucked way high in the uppermost branches or hidden in the grey mundane - behind all the noise.
That’s when orchard picking isn’t as fun…
This is kind of like the half-way marathon mark for me in writing daily for a month straight. It becomes a slow, tedious, disciplined practice… a careful, methodical search so as not to miss the provision. Not to miss the truth. Not to miss the fruit.
I’m deeply buried in the book of Genesis right now, studying the life of Jacob. I wish I knew how to get all the words up and out of my heart that somehow came to an amazing climax this morning. Nuggets of truth I have never quite understood, carefully tucked away in my basket - one piece after another, year after year… seemingly inconsequential and disconnected from one another, yet all amounting to a story that only God could write.
I’m going to let the story ferment a little longer, allowing it to find its voice in the right time. But one thing is for certain, only God could take such small mustard seeds and orchestrate such a journey through mountains and valleys to allow me to catch a newer, fresher, brighter glimpse of His glory.
Alive and working in me…
