
Now is a time of sitting still.
Of looking for God in the small places, letting the light in. It’s uncomfortable. We are unaccustomed.
I found an old note to self in my Bible. “Wait for the promise of the Lord, gracious uncertainty.” It was written after I read Acts 1, about Jesus ascending to heaven and him telling the disciples that the Holy Spirit will be their(our) guide now.
…but to wait for the promise of the Father Acts 1:4
Jesus answered their question about when by saying it’s not for them to know, only for them to spread the word of Him, so that many can be saved and to listen to the Holy Spirit as to how and when they were to share.
Last week, I didn’t mention prayer in a setting I felt I was supposed to. I didn’t. I didn’t know why.
Until an hour later, I’m out walking and I notice a family planting new roses. I stopped and I turned and I was greeted with what felt like glee.
“I don’t typically do this” I announced “but, would it be okay if we prayed together?”
And the mama rose from her flower bed digging and the daddy who’d been supervising smiled a giant smile and called their little boy over beside him.
I prayed and they prayed.
Then they smiled and we talked about the dog I couldn’t get trained and about children and sunshine and they commented about how they watch me walking and noticed I’m so fast. I laughed. They laughed too.
So, I smiled “see you later” and walked again back home.
I knew it was the Holy Spirit that told me turn back, meet them in their front yard, interrupt their day and together, pray.
It’s that way when we are attentive, I realized.
We’re praying for rescue now and not knowing when and we’re getting even more quiet although uncertain.
We’re leaning in to listen. It’s more possible than ever.
We’re praying prompted by the Holy Spirit. It feels new maybe, like new students not yet keen at recognition.
Maybe God’s idea for this season, this semester of waiting is keenness.
I woke up as usual and looked towards the window for day and then prayed, help me to see you more clearly God, today.
Three hours now into the day, I reread the words of Jesus and I see peace in the corner; a stack of books, collected feathers, glass that caught the sunlight, old magnolia pods in a tiny bowl, my granddaughter’s tiny silhouette.
A magnifying glass.
My son answered “I love you” in reply to mine and headed back to stay home in a different city. Not halfway into the day, I can hardly keep up with God’s ready replies to my prayer.
“Help me to see you today. Show me your knowing. Help me to recognize your glory.”
Praying you see Him too.
Continue and believe.
“He said to them, “It is not for you to know times or seasons that the Father has fixed by his own authority. But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you…
Acts 1:7 ESV
Thank you, Lisa. He knows what we need and how to bring us to it, and to Himself. Blessings.
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“I don’t typically do this.” I was saying something similar to a friend just two days ago. She also pointed out that there are so many beautiful initiatives of kindness being taken by so many right now. In the darkness God’s light shines even brighter.
Thank you for this beautiful post. May God continue to revive our hearts as He opens our ears to hear and obey His Word.
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