A Season of Simplicity

More. Too much. Not enough. Want. Need. Now. These are the words I often find myself speaking over life when I am forcing too much. I am now in a season called for less. Motherhood, marriage, discipling, learning, and growing has called me for a quietness of life, mind, and soul. And it has been a process and a journey that I am still traveling on.

The last month or two have proven this to be true. I was spreading myself thin, saying yes to so much (all good things, but still too much), feeling like I need to do more, and wanting to have more. This is a cycle that is easy to get trapped into. But the truth is, I am doing it to myself. I am choosing to overfill my days with tasks, schedules, stresses, things that are taking my energy, and then I feel like I need more of it. And then there is nothing left for the things that I cannot choose that are put into my life. Also, I have less to give to the things that matter most: my husband, my children, and my God. When I step back and really examine it, it seems silly that I would do this to myself over and over. But the reality is, God will lead me to do what is right for my life at that time if I seek Him and listen to Him. His ways are present to me in the Word, through prayer, through worship. I need to stop and reach out more constantly, daily. It is so difficult to do this when I am distracted by all the things that I feel I need to do, think about, and have.

So I stop. I reach out. I listen. And I hear Him telling me to let go. Let go of some commitments that can wait for another time in my life, let go of possessions, let go of want for more. I keep coming back to the words that a very wise woman speaks often, “I can do everything, just not all at the same time.” And this is where I find myself. He is telling me to wait, to listen, and to just be.

Since I have been dwindling down my list of things I need to do, to have, to think about, I have seen more of Him and His call on my life. I have been more present with my children, being able to truly disciple them from my heart where God leads me. I have been able to connect more with my husband and friends.  I have been seeking God more in the everyday moments. I have been able to take care of myself and my soul to better serve others and God. And it is sweet. I am not near perfect, but I am thankful for the freedom to rebuild, to try again, to have grace in those moments where I fail to live out the order of my priorities.

Simplicity brings a certain kind of freedom; freedom to be present, to be content, to be thankful, to hold space, to be intentional. I have found a great peace in my soul during this time of simplicity. I feel that the Lord is teaching me to let go so He can grow me. I am learning to be a more present mother, wife, friend, and servant. When there is less clouding my mind and life, there is space for more to enter. More of what really matters - what Kingdom matters. I am forced to examine myself and ask “What am I worshipping?” Where is my time and energy going? And I have to face the answer. And I have the ability to change, to accept grace, and to start afresh.

We are inevitably beings bound by time, and we cannot escape it. But we get to choose how we spend it. In our culture, it seems that we are being pushed to and flooded with things that will only cloud us. Be here, do this, buy that, and you will be happy. But that is not so. The more I long for goodness, joy, happiness, the more I find that “things” do not provide that for me. It is a constant rollercoaster of learning this lesson over and over; one of my life’s biggest struggles. Coming from a person raised in a “now, more, and fast” culture, I often lose sight of what I truly value in my heart of hearts. When things are stripped away, I encounter this again and again. Intentionality, peace, joy, loving, teaching, learning, serving, listening, and worshipping. Thankfully, there is grace for the times that I do not pursue this. He is also pursuing me, and I need to take a breath and look for Him, as well.

And now, when I am stripping away unnecessary things from my life, my mind, my soul, I see more of Him. I hear Him speak to me. And so, I believe that He is louder when I have less to quiet Him.

Less, enough, intentional, joyful, filled, thankful, peace.

Originally written and published by Allie LaPointe of Born Well.

Consider the Lilies

Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. (Luke 12:27 ESV

It’s the simple things. The common daylily that opens its lovely petals at dawn and by dusk is already fading … each magnificent flower lasting only a day, then quickly replaced by another. A shimmering rainbow hanging out of a dreary sky. Monarch butterflies dancing among the flowers. The laugh of a baby, innocent and happy.

Isn’t it lovely that our Lord taught us to stop and consider the small things? In this huge, busy, troubled world, Jesus bids us pause and really look at tiny things—and learn from them. Consider the intricacy of a flower, formed as a seed, nourished by sun and rain and soil, delicate in its beauty, unique, and distinctive … here for such a short little time. Would any of us bother to create something that elaborate knowing how quickly it would fade? God bothered. He bothered to do this amazing thing, to create beauty that strikes joy in our hearts and lifts our cares for just a moment or two. His assurance to us is that if He cares that much for the details of a flower, He certainly cares for us. “But if God so clothes the grass, which is alive in the field today, and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, how much more will he clothe you, O you of little faith!” (Luke 12:28 ESV).

What happens when we consider the rainbow? We remember: No matter how dark, there will be an end to that darkness. Scholars believe that Noah worked for decades building the ark. Then, he gathered the animals, shut himself inside with them and his family and endured 40 days of continuous rain followed by a 150-day flood and then a long wait until dry land reappeared. Basically, that was a very long period of darkness and uncertainty. Terrifying, really. I mean, all of mankind was being destroyed. Noah and his family would be trapped in that boat, so it sure better float. Yet … in the end, Noah and his family were able to create a new life in a lush and fertile world. The rainbow was a reminder to him—and to us—that God will never again use a flood to destroy all life. And to this day, after the storm comes a rainbow. A rainbow that tells me to hang on. Fills me with awe when I witness all that multicolored beauty stretching wide across the sky. Definitely worth the considering.

How about those Monarch butterflies dancing among the flowers? Think of all the many lessons they teach us. Those butterflies didn’t start out flying—they slogged along as caterpillars. Before the flying and beauty came a season of darkness and waiting. When I see a Monarch, I remember that with God the Creator, transformation is possible.

I’m enjoying a sweet baby these days, one of four grandchildren staying at our house for a time with their mama while their daddy is traveling. The innocence of this baby’s laughter tugs at my heart. Just smiling at that little guy turns into a wide grin on my face and a chuckle. He reminds me that I am God’s child. I don’t need to have all the answers. When I look toward God, He sees me with joy and laughter because He loves me even more than I love that sweet little baby boy.

Lord God, thank You for the life lessons in the simple, everyday things. Give me eyes to see and a heart to stop and consider all You have made and all that Your creation teaches me about You. Thank You for the reassurance that You, who care for the daylily and the grasses that last only a short while, certainly care for me! Lord, You’ve made a beautiful world. You speak through all You have made. Thank You. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

Originally written and published by Sharon Gamble of Sweet Selah Ministries.