Call me nerdy, but I just love a good schedule. Give me some stickers, colored pens, and a blank calendar, and I’m a kid at Christmas. There is so much calm in the regular rhythm of planning—a chance to exert order and beauty and life over the chaos of time that doesn’t yet exist, an opportunity to mold the moments that make up whole seasons with purpose. Looking forward in anticipation is my jam.
Then there are the days that call for looking back. Because hindsight is 20/20, this practice provides perspective so I don’t rush from one experience to the next in an unending string of random events. When I sit down and quiet myself, God shows me what He’s been up to in the middle of, in the white space around, and in the interruptions to my beloved plans.
It’s easy to think of the Bible like a little old lady in her church clothes—prim, proper, and very straight-laced. But when you flip the pages past Psalms, Proverbs, and Ecclesiastes, you find a book that will induce more pearl-clutching than a steamy romance novel. According to Matthew Henry’s commentary, “The Jewish doctors advised their young people not to read it till they were thirty years old.” Admittedly, Solomon uses some archaic descriptions (breasts like fawns of a gazelle… what?), but once you dig into context and interpretation, you’ll find that God is less embarrassed by sex than many of His children are.
“Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forth, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, honor, and cherish, til death do you part?…”
“Wait, I wasn’t finished. And do you promise to fight fair with him on the countless occasions you two will disagree?”
If you’ve ever been on a great vacation, you probably know that touring tends to awaken the appetite. Luckily, we’re approaching the one place you’ll never go hungry: Paris. John 6 is very much like the City of Light in its abundance of food. The chapter is sandwiched (ha) with bread, beginning with the feeding of the five thousand and ending with Jesus’ discourse on being the bread of life. (An amazing, but not necessarily food-related, miracle story is tucked in the middle.)
Looking back at how I’ve introduced September’s favorite things posts in the past, you might notice that this month is one of my most treasured times—school is starting up, autumn comes flouncing in with her glorious smells and tastes, and those trees! But this year, everything feels different.
Can we all just agree that the world is a dumpster fire right now? 2020: zero stars, do not recommend.
Cartography doesn’t exactly have the sexiest ring to it when it comes to vocations, but if you think about how crazy mapping out uncharted territory must be, the job smacks of adventure. A lake bends just here; and mountains sweep along to this side, extending to the forest. Because of cartographers and their pioneering work, explorers who come after them have an easier go of navigating the terrain.
Becoming a CF mama* has made me wish someone could hand me a map marked out with the landscape I’ll be expected to traverse. Knowing precisely where the quicksand of despair, the cliffs of exhaustion, and the high hills of holy hope are located would definitely make things easier, but this life doesn’t come with a map.