Come, Weary Ones

Come, weary ones
To me, you bearing heavy loads
Not meant for your tired shoulders
I have a gift for you!
It won't add another ounce to
The weight you bear
Nor another item to your to-do list
Or your how-you-ought-to-be list
I promise!
Come, your efforts exhausted
To me, your hope untraceable
I have a gift for you!
Something for which your soul longs
Something I eagerly offer
From my storehouse of grace
And love (my very heart toward you)
Custom made
Your name on it
I have a gift for you!
Come, I'll receive you
To me, I'll restore you
Here you will find rest
A pillow
For your very sleepy soul.
Come
To me, you
Come.

Diane Mann 2013

Layers

There it is again

That area I thought was healed

The ordeal I thought was done

The fight I thought was won

"Another layer," they say

Another layer of healing

Brought to the surface

Not so much the revisiting of an old wound

As a brand-new visit

Of a brand-new aspect

Of the same old wound

It feels like, here we are again

But here I am anew

Looking at another layer of me

Looking at another layer of You

I want to scream in frustration

At myself

For not getting over my issues

But Your Presence finally quiets me

Until at last we sit with what is

Sifting through it all

Together

My ineptitude, Your affirmation

My ingratitude, Your persistent generosity

My stubbornness, Your patience

My unforgiveness, Your mercy 

My recurring illness, Your hand of healing

My fierce anger, Your infinite kindness

My ceaseless "why's," Your ceaseless Presence

My exhaustion, Your breath reviving

Urging me to surrender 

To rest on your Big Love Ocean

To know You

To know me

To know You in me

And me in You

Again

And yet again

Within these layers

Of me

Discovering layers

Of You.

diane mann, 2013

Treasures from the Trail, Part 4 - The Still Waters

As we journeyed further after lunch, well-rested and revitalized, we came upon a rich-in-color lake.  If Brent and I were going to make camp before nightfall, we could not stop at every breathtaking site, so it was essential that this lovely lake be bypassed.  Walking by it, I kept glancing over my shoulder through the trees to see the rich blue-green color, to take in its still beauty.  Excitedly I yelled ahead to my husband, "Jesus is leading us beside the still waters!"   I could only snap a couple of pictures then carry the scene in my mind while the hike continued.

I reflected upon what is soul-restoring about still waters.  "He leads me beside still waters.  He restores my soul."  First, I wonder, when did I start taking so lightly how profound it is that the maker of the universe would lead me, that the One who placed each star where it belongs has a place for me, that He who led the Israelites and Moses across the Red Sea takes me by the hand and shows me the way to go?  This is no small thing, I realized, soaking in the truth that  here and now, He has led me to this place.

I know this has implications for shepherds and sheep, but I later jotted down what I noticed as Jesus walked me by the still waters.  What is the value of His doing so?  What about still waters grants me the restoration my soul so desperately needs?  Here is what I came up with that is offered to me at the waterside:

Reflection - The value and necessity of my reflecting on what God has done, to ponder what He is doing, to "see again" His showing Himself to me.

Depth - To look with Him under the surface of me beyond what is obvious.  His spirit at work deep inside me, changing me, loving me.

Color - Rich, rich blue-greens that sing of healing and beauty and life.

Serenity - I feel peaceful and quiet when I gaze on the placid waters.  My mind becomes unoccupied  with the worry that tries to reside there.

Settling - Nothing is moving nor rustling about.  Something in this gives me hope that Christ can calm my rushing heart.

Refreshment - Coolness, cleanliness, moisture of living water quenching my drenched spirit.

Responsiveness - I realize that if I were to throw a rock into this still water, an impact would be made, a rippling would occur.  I long to still my heart so that it is in a place to respond to God's initiations.  A stone thrown in a rushing river would hardly be noticed.  Where in my life is God trying to get my attention?  A still heart notices more than a frantic heart.

'Tis a profound thing to be led.

'Tis even more profound that I, a wandering, often directionless sheep, am learning to follow.

Treasures from the Trail, Part 3 - The Invitation

"Come to me, you who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest." - Jesus

"Mommy, God made this tree just for me," the words of my four-year-old daughter rang through my memory.  I could see her standing in a hollowed-out tree stump fitting perfectly within its contours. "Yes, he did, honey," I answered back, my heart happy to see her delightfully enjoying God's creation.

But now it was I lying in rather than standing in a hollowed-out tree.  Brent and I had stopped to each lunch and regain our strength next to a beautiful waterfall minutes before.  We hiked on from that place along the edge of a lake.  Shortly past lunchtime, Brent stopped again to pump and filter water from the lake, which gave me time to explore, take pictures and breathe in the wonder of this place.

An old tree trunk lay resting on the shore then extending onto the water.  Though I had already felt rejuvenated from our lunch stop, the appeal of  taking my pack off again and lying in the log was too great to resist.  I sat on the log, soaked my feet in the water while photographing my feet as they were being refreshed in the coolness.  Finding I had phone service, I snapped pictures of the scenery and texted messages with photos to my children.  I was so excited about this place of rest I'd discovered but was frantically telling everyone about it and recording it rather than actually entering into the offered rest that was before me.

Finally I turned off my phone and lay down.  Water surrounded me yet could not touch me on either side of the log that cupped my body.  I felt more quiet and peace than I had ever experienced without the help of an anesthesiologist.  I was being held.  God made this tree just for me, I echoed the sentiments of my daughter from years ago.  I suppose you could say I was taking the invitation to rest and be held personally.  The tree was there for me --  yes, for me.  I want to say that's silly and brush it off.  But what if the Creator of all that is allowed me to notice this piece of wood and let it be there right then, for me?

"Don't take things personally," we often say and have said to us.  Yet I believe there is much that we are meant to take personally, to receive as a gift within our person.  I have noticed even the most cynical take to heart  rainbows and shooting stars.  Yes, millions are viewing the same scene.  But God has something that touches us each personally as we view the colors and arc of a rainbow or the brief, gasp-inducing brightness of a star shooting across the night sky.  And we sense something that is beyond us yet speaking a message of love into us.

With an ache I long to be able to express what this time of deep rest did in the deepest parts of me.  I know I came away from there smiling at the love shown me, changed somehow,  open, with a desire to be more aware of God's invitations to me in the future.  I am surprised at how close I came to just giving the scene a thumbs-up, telling everyone about it, loving the idea of a resting log rather than actually entering into it and receiving what my Maker had carved out for me there.

Talking with some friends who had recently hiked in the same area, they mentioned they had gone by the very lake at which we stopped.  "Oh, did you see my log?" I asked, describing it to them gleefully.  They did not at all know what I was talking about, yet God had personal gifts He gave to them on their way as well.

I can sense God's delight when I think of Him watching me open His gift and respond to His invitation to soak my feet, to celebrate His beauty and to enter into the made-just-for-me reclining spot. 

I still smile to think of it.

Where I'm Meant To Be

I bow to the Prince of Peace

Tame the wild storm that is me

Raise your hand over the surface

Of the ocean that's my heart

Peace be still, you say

Peace

Be

Still

Postured now as He made me

To be

Yielding to the calm

Of my Prince

Who is my Peace.

diane mann 2011

The Prize

Have you ever won a booby prize?  You remember, it's the gift you get for pinning the tail onto a friend's forehead rather than on the intended paper donkey's behind.  Things went really badly for you, but you were given a prize of some sort anyway to console you for the failed outcome of your performance.  While praying recently for a dear friend's mom who is being tested for Alzheimer's disease, God revealed a way I see Him and His consolation that He wants to change in me. 

"Lord," I plead, "Please help _______ to not have Alzheimer's.  Let the doctors be wrong and the tests come back negative.  And be with her husband and her children as they help her through this time.  God, if you don't keep her from having Alzheimer's, then please be with her and her family throughout this ordeal and show them more of You."  What I really, really wanted, my Plan A, was  healing for my friend's mom.  But if God refused to provide my very best plan, I asked Him to go ahead with Plan B, which was for Him to be with this family.

After closing my prayer in the name of Jesus, this thought arose in me:  God is not the booby prize, yet I pray as though He is such!  The Lord's precious Presence is far greater than any outcome for which I'm begging.  I do know I can bring my specific requests to God, even as Jesus pled with God in the garden.  "Pour out your heart before Him," writes David in Psalm 62:8.  How wonderful and necessary it is to be able to honestly come before God laying out my petitions and grievances.

But I believe God is showing me that, even more than these answers that I am seeking, His with-us-ness is what it's all about.  He wants me to know -- to deep-down know -- that His goodness is infinitely more good than any perceived badness is bad.  Is disease awful?  Yes!  I am still praying for this dear lady to not have to go through the suffering that accompanies this illness, but whatever God allows to be sifted through His loving hands will, as we trust and look for Him, leave us awe-full of Him.  So even the awful can eventually leave us awe-filled.

"When you pass through the waters, I WILL BE WITH YOU," promised God to the Israelites (Isaiah 43:2).  As I spent time with God absorbing the truth about Him in this passage, He gave me a mental picture of myself as a mom clinging to my children in the water when they were unable to swim.  Because of how precious they were to me, I held on tightly.  Nothing was going to cause me to release my loving, protective grip on them.  In His goodness, in His love, He embraces me in the rough waters of life tenderly, with care and with His strength as my father.  During those times of being held by God, I come to know Him more intimately and to trust Him in new ways.

Whether the Lord God plucks me or my loved ones out of the stormy times or carries us through them, He is better than the answer to any prayer for deliverance I seek. "I am the first; and I am the last," says the Holy One.  He is the only prize!  Oh, to know the sweetness of this truth more and more fully as I live this life He has given me!

Father God, if I or others are to be healed, let us know You in the healing and wholeness you provide.  And if we are to go through hardship that we dread, may we find You there and know your grace to be more than sufficient to meet every need.  Let me more and more see that You are both the destination and the journey.  "I am the first; and I am the last," You say.  You are the only prize!  And You are what I desire.

Song For Karis - Isaiah 26:3

You promised perfect peace
To this mind ill at ease
That my heart so troubled
Would find tranquility
When my mind is stayed on You
And my gaze lifts to You
I begin to see how mighty You are
And all that troubled me seems far

So hold me now like You said You would
Let peace reside where fear once stood
I ask you to give what I cannot give myself
A trusting heart that sings out, "It is well."

When I'm resting in this place
Quieted by grace
Somehow I know, it's where I'm meant to stay
I find such solace here
You're bigger than my fears
Looking only at You, I find the strength to stand
I'm safe here in the palm of Your hand.

So hold me now like you said you would
Let peace reside where fear once stood
I ask you to give what I cannot give myself
A trusting heart that sings out, "It is well."

You held me, Lord, like You said You would
Now peace resides where fear once stood
You gave to me what I could not give myself
A trusting heart that sings out, "It is well."
Diane Mann 2009