February started all silver and white that morning. Ten degrees, and all the chimneys across the valley were slowly puffing their smoke toward the west while we drank our morning coffee.
I was on the couch next to Vince, listening to him try to get through to customer service as he took care of some bills. They transferred him to a “press 1 for this, press 2 for that” menu and he was caught in a loop — no matter what he pressed, it sent him back to the same place.
Somehow he found another route that asked him to speak instead of enter his request, and after saying “CUSTOMER SERVICE” first in a normal voice and then again, just for fun, like P.T. Barnum – both of which were ineffective – he started in on a particular children’s worship song that gave me a sudden desire to stab him with a pen.
“Sorry,” he said. “I’m just trying to get through this.”
“Yeah, me too,” I said, “but if you keep singing that, you won’t make it.”
So began Monday.
And here’s a good word for those of us in the middle of a rough day – if we are walking through hardship or conflict, or willful misunderstanding, or hope deferred, or disaster and heartache, or we’re just simply irritated by loved ones before our coffee has kicked in:
Let them thank the Lord for His steadfast love,
For His wondrous works to the children of man.
For He satisfies the longing soul,
And the hungry soul He fills with good things.– Psalm 107:8-9
And no matter what it looks like, He’s still doing. He is still satisfying the longing soul. He is still filling the hungry soul with good things. He is still doing wondrous works for His people.
On one of those rough days, I spent hours underneath a sick preschooler and his 103 temperature. He puked all over my bed before his fever finally broke, and once we got it cleaned up, we thought we were in the clear. But no, my friends, we were not in the clear, because an hour later he went for it again, violently shoving away the bucket I held for him, somehow managing to puke all over himself and the only part of the couch that was not already covered in towels.
Did I mention that day started with the geriatric cat vomiting into my hands as I tried to protect a different surface? No? Well, that happened, too. So gross.
That day, I also got to schedule fun appointments like a cat scan and physicals (because, Dorothy, we’re not in our thirties anymore) and I was looking at paperwork for a neurologist that I had already decided to put off until the following morning. Ain’t nobody got time for that on a day like this one.
Some days we’re just out of words. We’re praying without ceasing and loving the hurting and watching for good news because we know it’s here – even in sickness, even in grief, even when we know we’re walking into pain because He calls us off the couch and out of our comfort zone and into the mess. He is unchanging. He’s still the Good News, and He’s still right here with us.
It is okay to pray without words because He promises that He has words for us.
Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God.
– Romans 8:26-27
If it came down to us having to pray with the right words, then we’ve made it about what we can fix or do or achieve, instead of what He does for us and how much we need Him. And if it’s about what we do for ourselves, then we get the glory instead of Him – and He knows we can’t handle the weight of that.
Some days we end strong. But at the end of other days I am asking God, Did I do enough?
And He responds, Is it about you doing enough, or is it about what I’m doing?
And He reminds me that trusting Him is also something we do.
At the end of the day, we can stop our striving and fretting. At the end of the week, we can let go of the things that did not get done. Write them down if you need to, and let go of them for the night. God is on the night shift, not sleeping, always working the weekends, ever on our side, watching over all the details that are trying to keep us from peace and joy. Rest makes for a more productive tomorrow.
Even when all the intangibles look unfinished and not progressing, trusting Him while abiding does a great work – and it positions us for breakthrough, more than any doing or striving ever will.
How can we know we’re getting somewhere when we feel like we’re running in place? And, if we are getting somewhere, how do we know we’re going in the right direction?
We abide. Because God knows we’re headed to a beautiful place, and He has wisdom for us every step of the way.
No more settling for less because we’re fighting fear and anxiety of the unknown, and no more striving for control. Because control is not power – surrender and faith are. And He brings those as we abide.
We learn that we’re stronger when we know how weak we are without Him. We go farther by slowing down in strategic, deliberate ways. We learn to breathe when we feel like we’re drowning. And we stop getting ourselves into hot water, and we create a culture of rest and refilling, instead.
We rest in the running when we prioritize His presence over our production…and somehow we find that the fruit we bear is bigger and healthier as a result.
This is an excerpt from volume 1 of ABIDE. Need a break from spinning your wheels? The ABIDE series is part devotional, part collective memoir, part coffee table book, 100% encouragement and refilling. All six books are available here.