It has been a terribly busy few weeks, and, frankly, I am weary. So much rushing around, so much to do, so many items on my agenda that "had" to be accomplished, so beleaguered and frantic. Forgive my pace, Father. Forgive me, Lord, for so often failing to be still and know that You are God. For failing to slow down and relish the terrible beauty of the cross. For failing to walk with You at an unhurried pace, even as you walked calmly, lovingly, in a harried, busy, desperate world. Who could ever have more to do than securing mankind's redemption, yet, with such an unimaginable burden, You never seemed rushed or impatient or busily preoccupied. Indeed, You walked deliberately, obediently, but joyfully to the cross but yet always with time to teach or heal or pray or bless.
The words of an annoymous poem, "Slow Me Down Lord," have really challenged me:
Slow me down Lord
Ease the pounding of my heart
by the quieting of my mind.
Steady my hurried pace
with a vision of the eternal march of time.
Give me amid the confusion of the day,
the calmness of the eternal hills.
Break the tension of my nerves and muscles
with the soothing music of the singing streams
that live in my memory.
Help me to know the magical restoring power of sleep.
Teach me the art of taking MINUTE vacations,
Of slowing down to look at a flower,
to chat with a friend,
to pat a dog,
to read a few lines of a good book.
Slow me down, Lord
and inspire me to send my roots
deep into the soul of life's enduring values
that I may grow toward the stars of my greater destiny.
Yes, Lord, slow me down and help me gaze with wonder and adoration at You and Your cross. Help me to walk unhurriedly with You this Holy Week. Today, I think of You as You cleansed the temple of the moneychangers who transformed Your Father's House of Prayer for all the nations into a den of robbers. (Mark 11:17) O, Lord Jesus, show me where my preoccupation with all that this world values--accolades, accomplishments, accumulation of things, achievements--has stolen my heart, damaged my witness and diminished my intimacy with, and prayer to, You. I don't want to be anything like those faithless ones who missed You in their relentless quest to look good and sound good but with hearts far far from their Messiah.
Slow me down, Lord, to choose gratitude this day. Gratitude for the neon yellow buttercups on my walk this morning with our dog, Moses. Gratitude for the crimson cardinals soaring across our path--a reminder of Your blood and Your love. Gratitude for the showy violet beauty of Bluebells in my neighbor's yard--so nearly perfect, so lovely. Gratitude for the peace of a quiet hymn playing in our house, glorifying You with notes of joy. Gratitude for hot baths and precious children and faithful husband and undeserved safety and health. Gratitude for our sweet old black lab, resting at my feet at any and every opportunity... just content to be wherever I am. Help me to learn that Lord--to desire to simply be with You wherever you are and wherever You walk... with a focused, peaceful, grateful heart.
Gratitude for memories of mountain streams and forests alive with birds and crickets and creatures that all pour forth the music of Your glorious creation. Gratitude for moments to read Your eternal, powerful, endlessly nourishing Word. The Word that makes my old dead, dry bones rise from the dust and live again in hope and joy. (Ezekiel 37:1-14) Gratitude for friends and family who bring the songs of laughter and love into my life--and the privilege of messy, challenging, teaching, blessed relationships and connections. Gratitude for love. Gratitude for the cross. Gratitude for grace.
Slow us down, Lord, to see You, to know You, and to walk with You wherever you go, wherever You lead. Or just to be still with You. To our Savior who walks resolutely and joyously to the cross--our cross that became, instead, His cross--be all the glory forever and ever.
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