O God, you are my God,
earnestly I seek you, my soul thirst for you,
my body longs for you, in a dry and weary land where there is no water.
I stared out the bay window overlooking a stream, hills and beauty. Oh, how I'd thirst for a glimpse of nature. Outside, on the patio the sound of rushing water came to me, washing away some of the stress and weariness I'd carried on my back to this place of refuge.
"Come away," was the cry I heard in my heart. "Come with me and let's explore."
Leaving my bags in a corner heap, I raced out like when I was a kid, ready to play, and search out interesting objects and just BE for the moment before the demands of classes and meetings and gatherings lassoed me once again. Excitement bubbled up as I walked along the water edge gathering interesting rocks, and examining animal prints. It had been so long since I simply allowed myself to be quiet and listen.
I'd become so dry, and wilted. This retreat, I knew, would be a time of tapping back into my source.
I have seen you in the sanctuary and beheld your power and your glory.
Because your love is better than life,
my lips will glorify you.
I will praise you as long as I live,
and in your name I will lift up my hands.
My soul will be satisfied as with the richest of foods:
with singing lips my mouth will praise you.
I didn't attend all the meetings. I spent a lot of time walking, gathering interesting bits of what remained of winter's beauty. I walked with my Abba God in the cool of the evening, reconnecting, hearing, discussing realigning. The much needed rest refreshed me, revived me and helped me to refocus my sights on what is really important.
It's so easy to get disoriented in daily life. So easy to let fears cloud your sights and pressure to lead you down shortcuts that take you off the path you are meant to travel. It's easy to let loose of his fingers and run ahead, or dig in your heels in disobedience. It's easy to get distracted by shiny objects.
I found his fingers and wrapped mine tightly around his. Can't say I'll never let go again, as I probably will. But it's refreshing to know he finds a way to bring us back to his side, time and again.
In my bed I remember you:
I sing in the shadow of your wings.
My soul clings to you; your right hand upholds me.