Wilderness, Work and Water

Tonight, after Anthony and I unexpectedly found ourselves pulled into an unexpected situation involving a family member, I sat down in my living room to decompress. My house is quiet. All beds are filled with their familiar nighttime guests, except for mine. While my body is tired from the emotions surrounding the evening, my mind and heart need ... something.

A welcoming warmth is radiating from my log-filled fireplace, while orange flickering flames softly light the living space boundaries hemmed in by caramel colored, corduroy couches. Much needed rain is still falling outside. Has been for most of the day.

Opening my laptop, I catch up on the latest 140 character thoughts published since my last check of Twitter hours prior. I think about blogging. "What's the purpose in blogging about this?", I purposely ask myself, not from a negative point of view but from one that is seeking. Seeking purpose.

Instead of launching into writing, I peruse the list of writers on the right side of the screen. Writers that have this way of moving my heart, or inspiring me, or tweaking my perspective. Perspective is what I got tonight. Much needed perspective. Confirmation really.

"I truly don't know what tomorrow will bring, but God has moved me to a place of faith for the miraculous like I have never known." Connie Swain

These are the words I couldn't quite see holding onto the tip of my tongue as I tried to describe to a friend the sense of calm in the midst of our storm as I thanked her for covering us in prayer. But when I read this statement that followed a testimony of multiple physical miracles for another friend's husband, I knew that the same words HolySpirit wrote on her heart to infuse faith into her unknown tomorrows were also multiplying the faith God had already imparted to mine. God's Words multi-task. I love that about Him.

And as I write, I am again reminded by HolySpirit of God's Promise spoken over our 2011.

Forget about the past. Can't you see? Be alert. Be present. I am doing something new! I'm making a road through the wilderness. And rivers in the desert.

New doesn't always come easy. That's not part of the promise. Making a road requires work. And the wilderness isn't the easiest place to live or from where to forge a new beginning. But He did promise 'rivers in the desert'.

The wilderness and the work will be accompanied by the Water.

The current work in this wilderness could take a day, a week, or months. But with life-giving water--rivers of it--promised, my heart is at peaceful rest ... like Jesus' was in the midst of the storm on the Sea of Galilee.

I rest because I know that God knows. And with one word, winds can be halted ... and hearts can be healed.