A Place To Be Faithful
Decaf coffee with plenty of creamer heats my knees. It's cool but balmy out compared to the painful cold Georgia has known this winter. How quickly I've re-wimpified after surviving two snow seasons in Connecticut.
I fiddle with email and calendar and then "command + N" for a new window, a new start on old writing. I click my bookmarked link only to remember it's outdated and no longer the way to sign into my very own blog. Pause. Try again. Success.
I decidedly ignore looking at logo and fonts, layouts and color schemes, even though I hardly remember how they're currently configured. I could spend the next two hours on the hamster wheel of visual appeal and come up with nothing.
It's in the decision to ignore the trappings that this phrase comes to mind: a place to be faithful.
That's what I need in this season. Just a place to put my imperfect expressions of faithfulness for safe keeping and occasional sharing and where my heart can find itself once more explained by the rapid clip of fingertips tapping out truth right here.
This phrase, this call shouldn't surprise me, really. It's right in line with what Jesus has already spoken over 2018. Just one hyphenated, two-word expression that's meant to be my delight in the year ahead:
Something about showing up and going low and glorifying God in the everyday. It sounds so typical or cliche that I want to push it back, find something bigger, more unique. But He won't let me.
Those words, various-sameness, are borrowed from a poem by Jean Fleming. She writes in her book, Pursue The Intentional Life,:
"At ninety-seven, will I be able to write a poem capturing the scaffold of my life? How would I want it to read?
Old woman, keeper of a house,
Keeper of her heart,
Lover of one man.
Her life a scaffold of discipline and creativity:
Morning after morning: Jesus.
Her heart Bible-bent.
Every day an offering of various-sameness:
One hour of exercise (Oh, I wish!)
Dishes washed, laundry hung,
A good book read.
Art made life,
Life made art.
Preparation made for forever."
Various-sameness. A place to be faithful. This is all I'm after here. It's all I can be after when life offline is bursting beautiful at the seams.
"Blog something." I wrote it in my bullet journal. That's the only way anything happens in my life anymore. It seems to have worked? And maybe next week I'll write "blog something else" and the next "blog one more time." And maybe, just maybe, the various-sameness rhythm will draw my heart out from hiding and yours too and Jesus will show up in a lovely way right in the midst of a plain, quiet place to be faithful.
May you find your place to be faithful today, friend, and may you know the love of Jesus for you in that secret space always.