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I want to stop and study the intricacies of a flower without the concept of
time. I want to count the beat of raindrops. I want to sway in the breeze like the towering trees, heart fluttering in unthought-of rhythm. I desire a lifestyle where if you say, “I’ll be back in 30 minutes,” it could mean three hours—and that’s okay. Sometimes, I think I want to go live in an unpowered rainforest. I want to witness a caterpillar metamorphose into a butterfly. I’d find a deserted field and stroll through it with my hands brushing the tops of wheat stalks for no reason at all. I’d bask in the cloak of solitude. I’d swim in the sea of silence. Give me an island for one day and I’ll return to you an island, untouched and set apart. The urge to rid my environment of clutter teeters on some sort of invisible brink. I can’t see it, but it’s there—I can feel it, taunting my soul. I want to let my hair down, run barefoot along some shore, and find God in the whisper of the wind. I want to be and not do. I grew up observing both Chanukah and Christmas. Both are important in my life. So, as the Jewish Festival of Lights begins, by family tradition I like to absorb a poem written by Hanna Szenes (Senesh). It was her last, actually, penned in Yugoslavia, May 1944. The meditation of it deepens the experience for me, readies my heart for the significance of one of God’s great miracles…and of the sacredness of life.
“Blessed is the match consumed in kindling flame. Blessed is the flame that burns in the secret fastness of the heart. Blessed is the heart with strength to stop its beating for honor’s sake. Blessed is the match consumed in kindling flame.” The other day I told someone I was taking my son to the doctor because he had a bad cough. Then, I wondered, why did I feel the need to throw in the word “bad”? Is there anything good about a cough? Does a good cough exist that opposes a bad cough?
Imagine having to live with me, the woman of a thousand (mostly superfluous) questions. Hello? The problem with “spilling the beans” over a personal issue (besides feeling vulnerable) is how you run the risk of opening yourself up to another’s judgment or criticism. True friends are hard to come by. Live and learn or say less. Yet, Jesus merely looks at us and he loves us (Mark 10:21). How unconditional! Regardless of messes, how much we’ve said or done, we are looked upon and loved without condemnation (phew!—big sigh of relief). Next, he’ll tell us what we need to hear. So, if you’re feeling stuck, even after awkwardly “bearing it all” to someone, then ask God to examine your heart. The Wonderful Counselor will not keep truth hidden from you, but will guide you with his wisdom—for he is wisdom. And, yes, I’m preaching to my own choir.
Type-A: high-strung, ambitious, controlling, highly competitive, impatient, time-conscious, uptight, and achievement-driven—to name a few.
Type-B: easy-going, patient, relaxed, calm, collected, productive rather than destructive under stress, lacking overriding sense of urgency—and so forth. Unfortunately, for those who believe in such theories, you can’t pick which you’d rather possess; the tendencies are supposedly with you since birth. I’m an all-out Type-A Personality, when, I’d rather be the type that doesn’t let things bother me, like from that niggling impatience. Slackers lose. Early bird gets the worm. Eh!—who am I kidding. Things would be much easier if I could let irritations slide right off my back…just slide off my back. Off my back, now, you hear. |
Tessais a storyteller, and a transcript editor. She's also a Romans 8:28 kind of Jewish girl ... 
HER BEAU OF PINEY COVE
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