Sunday, February 24, 2008
So could you tell from my last post that I've contracted a bit of cabin fever? I've lived in snow country for 32 years and always the end of February is rough. And before you say, "Oh! But March is coming and that means Spring!", let me add that March in Buffalo just means more winter. More snow and cold and no green leaves.
But alas! The sun rises earlier now and I fling open the curtains and absorb every extra ray. What a difference an added half-hour of early light makes.
I'm thinking it's another case of divine discontentment regarding my tiredness of snow and ice and long, long winters. Remember how that was what pushed me out of the house which I'd lived in longer than any other ever? The one I loved for 14 years? Well, divine discontentment is responsible for me not missing that house one iota--I've cried not one tear nor whispered one wish to move back.
And I believe that's how God would want it. I hardly think He'd prefer that I be another Lot's wife, you know, the gal who turned to stone when she gazed back to her hometown. Most likely, the quota is already filled on those statues of stones scattered across hillsides--people with stones for hearts because they wanted certain things more than they longed for God and His ways, ideas and plans for them. Christians who are mad at God because they never peeked from behind curtains of disappointment to the better thing God had in store--and is still waiting to give if only their hearts would become pliable again.
Anyway, I've found that when I respond God's way to divine discontentment there's not only no facing backward, but there's an almost-giddy sense of anticipation. And adventure. And wonder regarding journeys to come (as in, moving to a state with no long winters!). :)
But all in good time, for of course, there's a time for everything. And now I have more lessons to learn during this eternal winter (or what appears to be eternal winter, anyway). Every day I feel as though I'm in college...all these lessons and all this relearning of forgotten things! But I'm careful not to hop down into pits of guilt and condemnation when I forget and flounder and sin. If I'm there, it's not because God threw me there. No, it's because I jumped in all that muck and mire myself, slowing down the whole process of growth.
It's hard to grow when you're ashamed to look God in the face. It's impossible to grow when you're avoiding Him, downright hiding, because of embarrassment.
God's ways are different and He leads by conviction and encouragement and Love (big L, always), making the whole journey a quicker one. In my house there are no 11-day journeys lasting for 40 years, such as the one Moses' Israelites took eons ago. No, right now in my tiny cottage there's early morning light bringing new days, albeit often snowy ones... days for learning and for growing passionately in love with God... and for guarding this pliable heart.
"Guard your heart with all diligence..."