This morning I sat on my patio, trying to find my focus. Seeking quietness, beauty, the wisdom of morning and the satisfaction that comes from watching birds at the feeder before fetching my breakfast.
Lately, I feel as though my life continues on a path with an unknown end. In a moment I find myself surprised at my response to the things that come my way.
I find myself dissatisfied with myself, restless. Burdened.
For someone who is known for enthusiasm, listless is as far to the other side one can get without…well, without really going to “The Other Side”. I know you know I am not talking Star Wars here.
But there it is. I am listless. It is the word that best describes my whole demeanor since we have been home from vacation.
A vacation we shuffled off to after what seems to be an incomplete journey, with no specific beginning and no end in clear sight.
I wonder if listlessness comes after one has spent too much time in The Land of Limbo. You know, the place where there are no pat answers, and everyone you happen upon speaks in clichés at you, while you wait for hope to return, after which they go upon their merry way to the “I’ll pray for you” from a Safe Distance place. Never to be seen or heard from again.
Or maybe it comes when you have spent too long trying at something and can’t muster up the strength to keep trying anymore.
Perhaps it’s after you have heard the suggestions and advice from many who believe they have the answers.
Or after the “professionals” can’t agree on a diagnosis.
Or when your prayers have trailed off to an empty gaze and a wordless groan.
Maybe listless comes when there are no answers in sight at all.
Does listless come when you face your dreams and realize they might slip away, for good?
Or when you look around and only see and feel pain and suffering, as if someone has thrown a spotlight on both, causing them to standout from all else, like a glaring, uncomfortable floodlight.
I don’t know the answer. But this morning as I sat with my journal in my lap, a bee happened upon my thigh.
In that moment God reminded me how the gift of writing continues to keep me.
In my listlessness, I am still kept by the One who holds me faithfully.
The Bee on my Knee
A bee landed
on my knee…
confused by my Lavender lotion,
was as surprised as I.
After my initial reaction-
which quite effectively
whisked him away
I returned to my chair,
hoping he’d not dare
on my lavender-ed lap
I wonder pain, and what is it’s gain?
I wonder who has the strength to endure
the startling reality
of the unexpected turn.
Who escapes without wounds,
when He whom we call our own
did not avoid the pain
but suffered it
securing our freedom.
Our freedom is not found
in avoiding pain
but in knowing
in the end
is a greater glory.
As we endure,
we become part of His story
and leave a trail of grace.
Thanks to a bee on my knee
at that early hour
who reminded me
when he mistook me for a flower.
May you be kept by the One who makes bees, knees, birds and trees and from whom all blessings flow, and who is the giver of gifts and words.
Kelli @ Chronicles of Grace today
Laura B. @ The Wellspring
Juana @ Juana Mikels
Ramona @ Create with Joy