My Sweet Louse is soundly sleeping.
It is Saturday.
The light outside just a notion of day.
I fill the kettle and put water on the stove. Bundled-up in my coat and scarf, I go out into the cold morning air.
Time to feed the birds.
This has become my weekend ritual.
…
Back inside, the water now steaming. I pour the transparent ribbon of liquid into my mug. My chilly fingers warmed as they wrap around the handle.
Then it’s outside again to enjoy the solitude.
I call it my “having tea with God” time.
As the darkness of night fades into morning ~
I step out the door.
And into the day.
I sit back in the old wooden chair to take it all in.
To listen.
Immersed in the glorious.
…
The sun rises slowly. Gradually illuminating the forest at the water’s edge.
High in the treetops I hear the robin. His melodious song like a sweet gift to unwrap the day.
The morning is filled with new sounds. Nature’s coming of spring.
I hear the chickadee.
He wakes the pine squirrel and rouses him from his warm winter nest.
Titmice flit about.
A nuthatch busy on the branch.
Warbling wrens.
Goldfinches.
The gentle coo of the mourning dove.
A kingfisher swoops scallops in the air.
On the water ~ migrating waterfowl have returned for their interim stay. A stop-over on their journey as they find their way to breeding territory further north.
Buffleheads dip and dive.
Pairs of scaups glide across the water’s surface.
The morning has awakened.
…
Then ~ a woodpecker’s drumming in the distance.
That hollow, reverberating noise. It resonates across the lake to meet me here, on the opposite shore.
An empty and quiet space of sound.
Void and vacant.
Uninhabited.
Has your heart ever known that existence?
Mine certainly has. On more than one occasion. And I’m sure that I will experience it many times more in years to come.
There are places in my life when God feels close.
Tangible.
Truly present.
Then there are other expanses that feel lacking and deprived.
Calling out to God with no apparent answer. My connection lost. Seemingly severed.
Wanting Him near.
And in my angst, I move further away. Finding activity to cloud my feelings. I detach and get caught in the pulse of humanity aching around me. Succumbing to the palpable pressures of brokenness. Or the weighted despondency of societal despair. Feeling lost and alone in the chaos.
Wandering amidst the madness of this world.
It was one of those kinds of days for her.
A friend had asked me to come to her house. From the moment I stepped over her threshold, I could feel it. Her heartache. Her distress.
She is in that place.
Sadness can overwhelm her. There are days when the burden of anxiety is crushing. And to make matters worse, beneath the inordinate emotional load, she feels tremendous guilt.
Feeling a failure for not finding God.
We have all been there.
…
In this frantically-paced existence, rows of responsibility demand our attention.
Alarm clocks and reminders.
Deadlines and ‘to-dos’.
The requirements of parenting our children.
Some of us now, the tables turned ~ days spent caring for our ailing parents in their aged years.
Work schedules and dreams.
All vying for a place in our planner.
Meanwhile, filling space in our heads. Stealing our sanity. Pummeling our peace.
And most importantly, robbing us of our joy.
Proverbs 3:5
Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding.
Hebrews 11:1
Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.
So what do we do when God seems so far away?
So distant.
In my days of longing and searching it is still my greatest tendency to grapple for control. To find some measure of reason.
If only I could figure out the ‘why‘ I feel so disconnected, somehow I think that I can find the ‘what’ I need to do to make it right. To mend the broken bridge.
The one I traverse to make my way back to Him.
Reviewing the years past, I see my former-self. Running to this world for a remedy.
My shelves were lined with self-help books.
I scoured the internet for articles on depression and disappointment.
Searching for answers.
Coming up with only superficial solutions.
…
The only true way to satisfy my sense of disconnect was in His Word.
Reading His promises and resting in them.
That is our call to faith.
Faith is living my life in light of things that haven’t yet happened. Things that I can’t see.
Faith doesn’t look to this world.
Faith looks toward our Heavenly Father. The One and only answer to our peace.
The Provider of our days.
Hebrews 13: 5
For He Himself has said, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.”
God gave this promise to Joshua and the children of Israel as they were about to enter the Promised Land. And they believed Him.
So I need to believe Him.
Stories and teachings like these translate into our own lives. Two-thousand years later.
This is why it is called the Living Bible.
…
So even when I can’t feel Him I need to Trust Him.
I’m not sure about you. But when I find myself wandering in that ‘wilderness’ of sorts, I can often become frightened. I remember the times that fear washed over me.
When anxiety reigned and my life went careening. Spiraling out of control.
Gradually, God has taught me to recognize those lies of the enemy.
In place of fear, our God breathes Truth.
When we are feeling lost and abandoned in this world, it is always possible to find our way back to His arms once again.
Trusting in the Word.
Saturating our minds with the assurance of His Love.
Coming to know His goodness.
Understanding the power of His promises.
Over and over.
Time and time again.
John 16:16
“A little while, and you will see Me no longer; and again a little while, and you will see Me.”
…
My “tea time with God” is something that has developed over time. Decades, honestly. As I continue to seek my Jesus, our relationship grows and with it my dependency on Him.
These precious times of awareness don’t happen every day. But when they do, it is a treasure.
A respite from the fear that seems to constantly beckon.
Stepping back to see the whole of my life, I find my Maker always waiting patiently and lovingly in the wings of my days.
Anticipating me to hear His gentle call.
A discovery for me that occurs most often when I usher in quiet.
When I become small.
Therein lies the joy.
In the sun as it kisses the horizon. The moon rising on the backdrop of a cerulean sky ~ a nightlight of His love. And the glimmering stars to carry me to daybreak. To the splendor of another morning.
In the silence.
In the hush. This is where I find Him.
…
How about you?
My Sweet Louise 
Please share your thoughts.