Grass Blades & His Ways

It came to me as I sat in a moment of frustrated rest. The strokes, greens pale and deep, and some golden, were so repetitive, over and over, up and up in thin, haphazard lines. I have never loved painting grass. Every ten minutes I would droop—arms crashing to bent knee, head hanging limp.

“I just want to be done.”

This was my frustrated whisper.

This is the frustration of my soul.

I didn’t know just what I wanted to be done with then, but I knew it was something important, something worth wrestling with in the night. 

Done, I wanted to be done—to be over that sin, to be through the waiting, to be healed completely, to fully forgive, to release it all, to know how to live a godly life where I am, to be right there at the end of the work begun in me.

 And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ. (Philippians 1:6 ESV)

Can that day be today? My semblance of patience is but a thin mask; I am not patient. Not today, anyway.

Some days ago I read Psalm 85 in the fresh rays of morning. The words seemed fresh to me—I am not sure I ever read this particular Psalm before, or really let the words soak into my soul.

Let me hear what God the Lord will speak, 

for he will speak peace to his people, to his saints; but let them not turn back to folly.
Surely his salvation is near to those who fear him, that glory may dwell in our land.

Steadfast love and faithfulness meet; righteousness and peace kiss each other.

 Faithfulness springs up from the ground, and righteousness looks down from the sky.
Yes, the Lord will give what is good, and our land will yield its increase.

Righteousness will go before him and make his footsteps a way.( Psalm 85:8-13 ESV)

The end of the Psalm still tumbles about my mind; the words have been percolating, and the power of His Voice penetrating. And when I look at the way the words are put together, it pierces deep. I am no scholar (though I would very much like to be) but I like looking to the Strong’s Concordance for the deepening of understanding, the concentrating of the language.

The King James Version translates the last sentence as “Righteousness shall go before him; and shall set us in the way of his steps.” The word for steps, is also sometimes translated as time, a beat, an occurrence. And this settles over my soul the way this early autumnal sun settles over my shoulders: warmly. In the way of His time, His beat, His steps.

But I read it again, and again, look at more words: Make or set can be translated also as establish, or appoint. And way is sometimes translated as the course of life, a journey.

He will establish us in a life of His rhythm; a journey in His beat will be appointed to us. He will make his footsteps a way.  Behind and before us, His footsteps are a way to walk, a way to spend our lives. 

The connotations are coming together, the way becoming clearer.

My soul knows it not well enough yet: small strokes and steps make lives, set by the One who will give what is good. Will I ever remember? “Sometimes the great thing that heals us is doing a small thing again and again.” That is what Ann Voskamp said, and isn’t healing what I want? Maybe I don’t need some huge, flashy miracle, but small, gritty, everyday miracles, beautiful blessings He cannot help but give, everyday chipping away of what I must release. I need these brushstrokes of green, over and over, disciplining the heart to know what it forgets; I need to read the words over, over, to give thanks again, again in all the smallest of graces, to give the hurts and hardened parts to the One who sends them forever away. And I come to wonder if the journey is slow so that it can be filled with more of Him, that we may know Him more for all our weakness and suffering.

So I paint and paint and paint these blades of grass so that I won’t forget.

The Lord will give what is good.
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I traced the oak leaf from the lake, and would he ever have imagined that falling down and drying out would lead to beauty that might go on and on? Beauty to encourage, to remind us of His promises?
So here, have a printable poster in two sizes :)
And maybe make it your own, you know? Print on colored paper? Watercolor it? Or leave it simple, like mine. Click right on the images to download.

8.5" x 11"

11" x 17"

Spaces

If you could hold days and hours like pebbles in palms, I might be able to show you.

Then again, I might not.

If history was a piece of string that ran through our hands, we might get rope-burn. But I could show you.

I want to show you.

If these words are my stones, my memorials and monuments to the places God has been, then where is it that have I found Him these days?

In the spaces. The stones invisible, the empty places on the string.

Sure, there have been rustling waves of morning light through old windows, tea with donuts that taste like autumn, a few kindly given smiles, mystic fog that poses questions, the joy of pen on paper to create. I count them, taking them from their wrappings and ribbons of His love.

But life has been very spacious today and this week and this month. My mind rustles like the drying leaves—restless to glow in truest color, eager for what lies ahead, hesitant to really bloom so late in the season, in this humble patch I find myself.

But somehow in these empty places I have turned my attention—though I sometimes talk too much, rambling on when I should be listening—to Him. And the words from the hymn sung Sunday morning tumble round my mind.

Who floods my weaknesses with strength

And maybe it isn't a coincidence that the song is called My Heart is Filled with Thankfulness, because it takes the humility of a thankful heart to find joy in empty spaces filled by Someone else. I spoke it to the flames and the glowing hearts in a patch of grass among cornfields, that the only way to be full is to let His love pour through us.

And so maybe wasted space isn't empty space, but space full of waste.

And Isaiah is trying to tell me in Chapter 30 verse 15 what God says;

For thus said the Lord God, the Holy One of Israel,

“In returning and rest you shall be saved;

    in quietness and in trust shall be your strength.”

So I learn so slowly to let Him fill gaps and hollows, because when He is present, He floods with salvation and strength. I take that extra moment in the staff bathroom, in the empty hallway, in the warming sun, to just be, and be with Him.

And maybe we can learn it together, to look to Him when we drive alone and walk to cars and sit at home and scarf down meals. Small spaces add up to a whole lot of Grace.

Maybe we both need this just now, to turn our gaze, the gaze of our soul, as Tozer pens, and simply look to Christ instead of looking at how empty these spaces are. Even that is a filling, a rising something we cannot claim, but can name, that floods and sways to the brim of our souls.

A subtle knowing that He was here.

He is even here.

Zephaniah 3:17 ESV:

The LORD your God is in your midst,

  a mighty one who will save;

he will rejoice over you with gladness;

  he will quiet you by his love;

he will exult over you with loud singing.

I drew & edited these stones to remind me, for I am absent-minded, forgetful. I am placing them all over my spaces—my mirror, in my planner, in my car. Just a reminder of what I forget sometimes.

Even when we hide, He is here.

Download this printable gift from me for free?