Well, howdy friends! And bienvenue à février.
In an effort to be consistent, it’s been awhile. It’s important to have things in life one can depend upon, no? Though I do wish to decrease my dependability in this particular area of dependability (that is, my undependability). For one, because I enjoy the act of writing and I believe that when one makes time for the things that gives their soul wings it’s good for the environment. Secondly, there are people who have informed me that they enjoy reading what I write. So in an effort to appease us both, I shall dust off the cobwebs of my brain and fingertips and say something. That much we can at least be sure of. I will. say something.
Today’s program is brought to you by the letter ‘G’, essential in the expression of words such as “grace” and “guilt.”
Guilt, the pesky adhesive friend. And Grace, the one that never sticks around.
On this particular February morning, I followed the advice of the author of Psalm 62 to “pour out [my] heart before the Lord,” because “God is a refuge for us.”
A refuge. “A place that provides shelter or protection from pursuit, danger, or trouble.” Le refuge, in French. Die Zuflucht if you cared to say it in German.
I don’t know if I’m alone in this, but I find my human reflex is not to think of God as the refuge. Isn’t he the one I need protection from? He is the one I have disappointed, the one who stands as judge and accuser of the ways I have fallen short. Pour out my heart? Shouldn’t I hide in shame, cozied up close with my good friend, Guilt?
What a glorious concept that the psalmist says differently. Nothing is hidden from God, he knows it all already. And yet he still loves.
I basked in that this morning. Confiding in God the ways I felt I’ve disappointed him, the things I’ve wished I’d done, but haven’t. And the list is always long, for the items are usually in conflict with each other. But instead of seeing myself as others see me, or even I see me, I chose to see myself as God sees me. It was nothing short of life-giving.
And so, dear friends, I invite you to do the same, for “a life unexamined is not worth living.” Take the time to search the recesses of your heart and discover what is even going on there. I think the hardest part of “pouring out one’s heart” is knowing that heart. We race through life with our daily concerns and obligations. And then we unwind to our daily dose of Netflix. Who has time for self-reflection?
Heed the words of Socrates, dear one, such a life is not worth living.
Well, that took a lot out of me, so we’ll call it a day. The score for this particular post is Felix Mendelssohn’s Songs without Words. I may be back soon; I’m contemplating a daily writing prompt challenge but don’t hold your breath.
Oh and this cat pic is one I took with my Minolta film camera some years ago in the Rocklin Wilderness. It is one of my most favorites.
In conclusion, whether I know you or not, I love you.
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