As the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return to it without watering the earth and making it bud and flourish, so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater, so is my word that goes out from my mouth: It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it. -- Isaiah 55:10-11

Thursday, May 13, 2010

In the Aftermath, Pentecost

My aching muscles drag me from my sleep. The aftermath of yesterday's long walk around the neighborhood drive me from my bed and out to the street again.

The too moist air settles on me as I check the time on my cell phone, slip my headphones over my ears, and head down the street.

In truth, I had hoped to rest a bit longer. A long night of warring with thoughts, memories, and heart wounds still throbbing left me with little sleep. When I finally closed my eyes and felt sleep slipping over me, I longed to stay in the quiet, to let the headache subside, and let my tight muscles relax. A few hours later, I was on the road again, moving toward a better level of fitness, working off excess pounds, and making strides to the physical life I want.

My muscles stretch with the strides, and the ache loosens. The music in my ear is lost in the songs of the birds around me. They are joyous.

I don't remember joyous. Right now, all I remember are the things I want to escape, and yet, instead of allowing me to lie quiet in my bed, the Lord has chosen to bring me right into the middle of the onslaught. It is just He and I here...in the quiet...amid the screaming voices, and I am silent, except for the screams at Him.

How long? Forever? Does this last forever? What must I do? How can I convince you? When will you hear me? When will You stop this...or am I as alone as I feel I am right now?

And the screaming voices continue their cacaphony, but mine goes quiet.

Is it faith or resignation that quiets me? I am sure I don't want to know.

And in the mind-darkness, a Voice speaks. "Pentecost."

Pentecost.

When the Spirit came. When shaken men received unshakable faith. When uneducated men knew they had not believed in vain. No longer merely followers, they became Fire carriers. The questions about Jesus' dying became the declaration of His resurrection. Hearts that had known their failures now knew the limitless power of Almighty God...in them...through them.

The promised Counselor had come, and nothing would be the same again. Not for those men...not for the world...

My feet turn the last corner toward home. The voices still scream. My heart still aches, but hope has again revealed itself. In the aftermath of all that has happened and all I still hope to see, there remains the promise. Pentecost.

3 comments:

Debra said...

Oh Amen! my sweet sister, Amen! Just what my heart needed to hear. Pentecost! Hallelujah!

Love you!

sharilyn said...

my lovely friend...

my heart hurts for you in your pain. i know what it is to feel oh, so very alone. i am glad we truly are never alone as we FEEL we are... what a playground of the enemy that lie is...

"When the Spirit came. When shaken men received unshakable faith" --i love this. so simple. so profound. so still for today... it's amazing to me that the living God lives within US... and it is He Who gives that unshakeable faith when we have none of our own...

i pray for you today-- for courage (taking heart), comfort, and His tangible Presence in your day...Pentecost, indeed.

love you!!

Jerri Phillips said...

Sweet Sharilyn, thank you. You are a blessing to me in so many ways. It is interesting, isnt' it?, how even in what feels like the silence of being alone, God is working in our circumstances and in our thinking to accomplish things that we never expected? You know what amazes me? Even when I feel like I am an utter mess and have created an utter mess, He is there saying, "Saw it coming. Already have the answer and the healing that keeps you from doing this again." He is utterly amazing.

Thank you for your prayers. I needed them greatly.

Love you, my friend!