biking, going and staying

Today I was able to bike to work. Due to the fact that I have a rotating office, the park that is tucked in between the playground and the prairie path turned into my work space for the day. Hard job, I know. After answering emails, calling a few people back, and attending to some administrative duties, I sat. Book open, headphones in. Not reading, not even listening to the music. I sat and watched the trees. Directly in front of me, a tree of magnificent size and stature captured my full focus. If I were colored blind I would be in awe of this tree. But thanks be to God for sight in all color, (especially when it comes to coral- which may slowly be taking over my closet) because the tanish-brown hue clued me in to its deadening demise. This tree was by far the biggest, most capable looking tree in my line of vision. From the roots upward, the tree was a masterpiece. But, as the wind picked up, my eyes glanced to the smaller trees surrounding it. I noticed something different about them. I watched, in wonder, struck by how God is found in absolutely every moment. Even this one.

 

These shorter, unable-looking trees that neighbored the one, rhythmically danced in harmony with the gusts of wind. Their leaves, lush and green from the connection to their trunk, their life source, (their vine), blew wherever the wind directed them to blow. Each leafy branch followed the leader and swayed in a gorgeous melody of obedience.

In contrast, the massive, decomposing tree towered among the others in an eerie rigidity. It was firm, set in its ways and obviously a little too comfortable in the position it was slowly dying in.

Austin and I are leaving for Africa on Thursday.  Close to unbelievable, but true. If I were to reexamine my heart even a few years ago to see how Africa-inclined it would be, chances are my inward being would resemble that of the rigid, brown tree mentioned above. Gloriously, through connection to the true vine and his word, my heart has expanded and softened towards God and his people. I am learning anew what it means to allow the gusty winds of the Holy Spirit to lead me and motion me closer to the cross. My story is a small amount of proof that a big and marvelous God chooses the unable-looking trees because they choose to say ‘yes’ when the wind blows. Africa will be a continued dance of spirit-prompted opportunities. I am slowly discovering that the more the branches of my heart cling to Christ, the true vine, the better the chance of a faith-inspired ‘yes’ response. I want to say yes so badly, all the time and with great fervor. But sometimes I don’t. Instead, I walk away from a God-breathed opportunity, disconnected from the vine, feeling stuck despite the fluidity of the spirit.

This morning I read the book of Ruth. Foreshadowing outlined each page like a pencil sketch before the masterpiece painting. Ruth desperately loved her Mother in Law and was committed to follow her even into a land she was completely unfamiliar with. Suddenly, the verses below meant more to me than some recent Chris Tomlin lyrics:

“…where you go I will go, where you stay I will stay...” Ruth 1:16

God’s calling me to go. He’s calling me to do something, to move with his spirit, to break out of my natural rigidity. But here’s what’s beautiful about God, sometimes he calls me to stay. I’m not noble, righteous or better than anyone whom has or hasn’t traveled overseas. I am a girl after the heart of God longing to honor him and admonish others along the way. And right now, he’s saying, “Child, go!”

So wherever you are, whether you’re going, staying, or maybe even a little rigid, all that matters is your relationship with the true vine. Jesus. Are you connecting yourself, moving in sync with his calling, or finding yourself deadening from a lack of spirit-led motion? I can assure you that he’s asking you to do something. Go? Stay? Wait?

Whatever it is…

Say yes.

Jeremiah 17:7-8 encourages us,

“But blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord,

whose confidence is in him.

He will be like a tree planted by the water

that sends out its roots by the stream.

It does not fear when heat comes;

its leaves are always green.

It has no worries in a year of drought

and never fails to bear fruit.”