Wisdom Gleaned from Old Journaling: Schedule “White Space”!

 

[Not to read; just to look at:]

 

Little white space

 

 

Some white space

 

More white space

Outside, the wind roars.

Inside, its tendrils invade, waft over floorboards.

I cozy up under fuzzy fleece, tuck in my feet, and review my year’s blog posts and journals.

In minutes, I read:

What do you do when the creative (or spiritual) well runs dry? Sometimes I try pumping harder, to stir up novel ideas or holy thoughts. There’s a place for that. But I also have a crying need for “white space” — moments of rest for overloaded brain and soul.

Even devotional time with God needs “white space”: periods of stillness without petition, Bible reading, devotional doing, or simultaneous physical tasks! Just silence in His presence! 

I blogged that, essentially, a year ago. Common sense told me that much — especially when to-do lists (both physical and spiritual) overwhelmed me.

I can busily read through three Bible chapters in twenty minutes or less. No white space. I can give you a pretty good recap of what I read, too. But this alone tends to be like skipping a stone across water. I get to the other side, as planned, but never sink in very deep.

Reading it thoughtfully, prayerfully, repetitively, takes time. And sinking it down into my heart and assimilating it into my life requires slowing, stopping, rereading, pondering, savoring. Time aside from busyness. Silence. White space.

Yet, do we fear silence? Does even ten-second stillness feel “awkward,” seem to require “rescue” by someone talking or singing to fill up the quiet?

We need — I need — time to soak in what’s poured out, be it words read or preached, or the Holy Spirit Himself. It’s too easy to get misled into thinking the world — or even God — can’t get along without the “rescue” of chatter or clatter, when what He wants for us is “Be still, and know that I am God”!

I want to read the Bible-in-a-year again, really. But what good will that do if I don’t give it time to sink in and alter my mind, heart, and life?

Planning time for both Bible read-through and slower, more meditative reading is best, shoving some trivial pursuits aside. But if I can’t do both, spreading my reading over more than a year is better than forfeiting the rich white space I need for assimilating into my soul what comes in through my ears, eyes, and brain.

I am learning the treasures of well-timed silence. May I guard them through the coming year.

 —

Now I walk past the kitchen table. There, at husband’s place, a solitary index card says this:

Ps 37:7a Be still before the LORD and wait patiently for Him…

Ps 62:5 For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence, For my hope is in Him.

A silent, unknowing “Amen”!

Linked to

What’s On my Heart

“On Your Heart Tuesday…”

Well, what’s on my heart?

Rest.

Rest is on my heart.

Now is an interlude.

Now, between Christmas                                   and the new year’s start.

Time to be quiet.

Still.

Get bearings.

Assess.

Give thanks to God for gifts He gave this past year, as many as my mind can name.

Count the blessings disguised as pains and problems, disappointments and closed doors.

Count the blessings obvious with pleasure, joy…

New friends. New experiences. New challenges. New and better ways.

Old friends and faithful. Deepening relationships — in family, in God’s family, with God Himself.

Bask in the wonder of God’s working in a tiny life (my own).

Time to review:

this year’s personal journals (more than one),

old blog posts,

the passing year’s calendar.

Time to assess:

From whence have I come?

How far have I traveled

closer to God?

How well?

How did He help? 

Sort out for the new year:

what to shed,

what to keep,

what to gather in anew.

A time for sweet serene silence. Still sitting. Gathering grace.

*****

Linked to…

Finding Heaven

On In Around button

Met in Thee

Words echo in my head. They melt over my heart and moisten my eyes.

Words of a song, voicing the thought repeating these last two days,

after these weeks of Seeking the Christ Child in the Old Testament:

“The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee…”

Thee: Bethlehem. Little town. One you’d never notice in and of itself.

“But thou, Bethlehem Ephratah, [though] thou be little among the thousands of Judah, [yet] out of thee shall he come forth unto me [that is] to be ruler in Israel; whose goings forth [have been] from of old, from everlasting” (Mic 5:2 KJV).

Town almost eternal, its history goes back so far. A history both hopeful and hopeless, sweet and sickly, benign and bloody. Yet the town of promise, the House of Bread.

The House of Bread Naomi fled when there was no bread, returning, ruined, decades later to a flush of barley harvest…

Where Ruth, arriving with her, happened on the bread harvest fields of Boaz, son of Rehab…

Where Rehab must have settled years before as refugee from pagan rule and prostitution, after fleeing not Bethlehem, but Jericho, fleeing by standing firm in faith till rescuers from God’s own people came as promised to bring her out, to bring her in.

Was it not to those same fields of Bethlehem that she came, and married Salmon and bore him Boaz,

who married Ruth,

who bore him Obed,

the father of Jesse,

the father of David the shepherd, the king, who foreshadowed Christ as both (Mt 1:5-6)?

And was it not on Bethlehem’s hills that he, the future King David, shepherded those flocks?

And now, there, in the House-of-Bread town, in a manger, feed box for sheep, lies the Bread of Life, and the Great Shepherd of all who seek God. There in the darkness lies the Light of the world.

The light that both brightens and frightens.

For it was Bethlehem (by star brightness) the Magi sought, and Herod, soon hearing, soon fearing, sought to extinguish its Light once for all…

Just as cruel and mighty earth-kings through history had tried repeatedly to do, and failed…

They feared.

He feared, and all Jerusalem with him…

But shepherds abiding on the wilderness hills, just as David long before them, saw the light, and followed in hope. The hope of ages…

“The hopes and fears of all the years…”

Met in Bethlehem that night.

May you, all dear readers, bask this Christmas in the hope, the peace and joy, of ancient Bethlehem’s Shepherd-King-Light. Nearing, not fearing “Jesu, joy of man’s desiring”… entering in, and settling in, the Bethlehem (House-of-Bread) of the heart.

The Prophecy: Micah 5:2

The song.

The original tune.

The more recent, yet more ancient-sounding tune.

*****

Seeking the Christ Child (in the Old Testament)

Through December, the blog posts here have been dedicated to searching for prophecies and foreshadowings of the Christ child, book by book — like the wise men,  Seeking the Christ Child, but in Old Testament promises and foreshadowings, and sharing the findings. 

The complete set of links to previous posts:

(1) – A Baby Gave Her Hope

(2) – A Baby Gave Him Comfort

(3) – A Baby Made Her Laugh

(4) – Wrestling Babies Lead to Christ? 

(5) – Hope Hanging by a Slender Thread

(6) Power in Small Things, and Fear of Babies

(7) Heart-felt Reflections on Foreshadowings so far

(8) Musings about Midwives

(9) Two Widows and a Prostitute

(10) Two Poetesses (Their Babies Made them Sing)

(11) Tangled Strands and Broken

(12) Son of Whom? 

(13) Broken Weavings, Strands, and Stumps

 (14) Stumped!

(15) Reluctance 

(16) Where’s Jesus?

(17) From Darkness

*****

Seeking the Christ Child (17) – From Darkness

 

It frightens them. The further they drive, out into this “nowhere,” the more the darkness presses in and its feel of menace grows, as they strain ever harder to see the unseen ahead on the twisting road. Arriving at last, they sigh relief, pull up our drive, where light spills out windows and makes pale patches on ground, and a back entrance lamp beams like a beacon over black sea. And they clamber from their car, exclaiming, “It’s so dark out here!”

The suburbs they’ve left, with street lamps on corners and bright-lit malls and industrial parks, and urban spots that never see dark but in blackouts — these never give them real night like here when moon is hiding in her shy stage of orbit or when clouds conceal heaven and not a single star twinkles above.

And yet, we do have lights,  though scattered — dusk-to-dawn ones on farms, and yellow glow pouring out windows of other houses up and down roads, making multiple blotches on grass. Still, they say, “So dark!”

What must have been the shepherds’ darkness, wherein they sat, or lay to take their turn at sleep, or walked with torch held high to keep their check on vulnerable sheep while the wilderness howled around them?

And then! 

Explosion of brilliance! Shocking! Blinding! Assault on heart and mind!

And a figure in the brilliance. Figure with a man’s voice booming in their language: “Fear not.”

At which point they must be fallen, knees gone collapsed on chilling ground, unable to obey the command, as the figure speaks on:

“For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ (Messiah!) the Lord. And this will be the sign to you: You will find a Babe wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger.”

The long-awaited Messiah, a baby in a manger?

Nevertheless, now bursts forth more light, and a whole host of shining beings sound forth high praise to the God of Heaven and news of joy to Earth.

And so, after angels depart, the shepherds go! No hesitating here. No reluctance.

They must have left their flocks — or gathered them with a skeleton crew who could go when the first group returned…

And because they went, they saw. The Light of the World in a tiny face. Bread of Heaven in a sheep’s bread box.

And because they went and saw, they couldn’t keep it to themselves. “They made widely known” what the angel said, and left their hearers marveling and Mary pondering. Nor could they keep from praising and glorifying God for the wonder they’d lived.

Once I sat in darkness. Deep, impenetrable by earthly light. And when God shined His beams of truth and hope and life eternal, they stirred my heart to hallelujahs even solitary in my house.

And so I wonder…

Do not those in deepest darkness notice first and best the smallest spark? So when the Great Light dawns, it overwhelms with ecstasy? Once black-blinded, now beholding the spectacular, the eternally enormous, who could own a greater awe?

I’d rather not have known the darkness. I wish it on no one. But ah, it makes the Light fantastic, and leaves me never ignorant of my constant need for it.

They “who dwelt in darkness” went. Hastened. Told. And rejoiced and praised and glorified the Author of the Light.

Rejoicing and praising with them today. 

 

Those who dwell in the wilderness will bow before Him... -Psalm 72:9

To read Luke 2:8-20, hover your cursor, and click on link to read more.

*****

Seeking the Christ Child (in the Old Testament)

In the weeks leading up to Christmas, I am searching for prophecies and foreshadowings of the Christ child, book by book. I plan to post (nearly) every weekday (leaving myself some margin) a short peek at some hint or promise of the coming baby who would make all the difference. Like the wise men, I’ll be Seeking the Christ Child, but in Old Testament promises and foreshadowings, and sharing what I find. I hope you’ll join me, because if it turns out as rewarding as the past spring’s pre-Easter explorations, this focus could make this one of the richest, most blessed Christmas seasons yet.

Previous posts:

(1) – A Baby Gave Her Hope

(2) – A Baby Gave Him Comfort

(3) – A Baby Made Her Laugh

(4) – Wrestling Babies Lead to Christ? 

(5) – Hope Hanging by a Slender Thread

(6) Power in Small Things, and Fear of Babies

(7) Heart-felt Reflections on Foreshadowings so far

(8) Musings about Midwives

(9) Two Widows and a Prostitute

(10) Two Poetesses (Their Babies Made them Sing)

(11) Tangled Strands and Broken

(12) Son of Whom? 

(13) Broken Weavings, Strands, and Stumps

 (14) Stumped!

(15) Reluctance 

(16) Where’s Jesus?

*****

Picture

 

Seeking the Christ Child (16) -Where’s Jesus?

Thus says the LORD, The Redeemer of Israel, their Holy One. To Him whom man despises, To Him whom the nation abhors, To the Servant of the rulers; Kings shall see and arise, Princes also shall worship, Because of the LORD who is faithful, The Holy One of Israel; and He has chosen You. -Isaiah 49:7 

But thou, Bethlehem Ephratah, [though] thou be little among the thousands of Judah, [yet] out of thee shall he come forth unto me [that is] to be ruler in Israel; whose goings forth [have been] from of old, from everlasting. -Micah 5:2 KJV

Where’s Waldo books captivate millions of people, who keep searching, searching for the funny guy in the red-striped shirt.

We play “Where’s… whoever?” with our children, our grandchildren, and the best part, the fun part, is always the revealing of the hidden, delighted face.

But when the Magi came asking that question, “Where’s the child born King of the Jews?” and the Bible-knowledge experts indicated it would be somewhere in Bethlehem, just down the road, how come they, and mobs of Jerusalem’s people didn’t go running to find Him?

The text says instead that they (“all Jerusalem”), along with King Herod, “were troubled.” And it seems they just stayed put. Nobody wanted to play “Where’s Jesus?” Nobody seems to have wanted to reveal His miraculous little face… How come?

Troubled. They were troubled.

Herod was afraid of a rival. He sought the location of this divine King not to go catch even the slightest glimpse of his face, but to wipe it away from earth’s tableau completely.

And the people were afraid of Herod. Fear of man. But is that all?

Jesus came to set people free from sin and self and death — to bring them a new kingdom of love and light and eternal life.

Was that the problem: that they didn’t want a different kingdom? Is that our problem? Familiar is comforting — just its predictability, if nothing else. “Don’t upset the apple cart,” “Don’t rock the boat,” “Maintain the status quo…” All clichés because they represent such common human thought and desire.

If theirs was fear of a tyrant, the inhabitants of Jerusalem could have taken a lesson from those historic heroines, the midwives of the Egyptian captivity who acted so faithfully, and were rewarded for it, because they feared God instead of powerful people.

But I fear that what we fear is not some tyrant, but just having our world turned topsy- turvy. And Jesus does that. Dumps it out, right upside down, and starts it all new, with new birth sometimes as painful as ordinary birth — but even more rewarding.

So, let me make the effort to find Him in this season, to look for and into His face, to keep Him as the focus of my mind and heart. Then, in the coming new year, may I keep asking, “Where’s Jesus?” and keep running “hard after Him,” fearless in the adventure of faith and Life.

To read — Matt 2:1-6,7-18

*****

Seeking the Christ Child (in the Old Testament)

In the weeks leading up to Christmas, I am searching for prophecies and foreshadowings of the Christ child, book by book. I plan to post (nearly) every weekday (leaving myself some margin) a short peek at some hint or promise of the coming baby who would make all the difference. Like the wise men, I’ll be Seeking the Christ Child, but in Old Testament promises and foreshadowings, and sharing what I find. I hope you’ll join me, because if it turns out as rewarding as the past spring’s pre-Easter explorations, this focus could make this one of the richest, most blessed Christmas seasons yet.

Previous posts:

(1) – A Baby Gave Her Hope

(2) – A Baby Gave Him Comfort

(3) – A Baby Made Her Laugh

(4) – Wrestling Babies Lead to Christ? 

(5) – Hope Hanging by a Slender Thread

(6) Power in Small Things, and Fear of Babies

(7) Heart-felt Reflections on Foreshadowings so far

(8) Musings about Midwives

(9) Two Widows and a Prostitute

(10) Two Poetesses (Their Babies Made them Sing)

(11) Tangled Strands and Broken

(12) Son of Whom? 

(13) Broken Weavings, Strands, and Stumps

 (14) Stumped!

(15) Reluctance

Linked to…