A Day in the Life of a Disquieted Soul

Going into this weekend I had sensed an encouragement from the Lord to rest. Rest before your son comes home from the hospital. Rest before the unknown.



Easier said than done. Especially when a disheveled, unorganized pantry, laundry room and back porch are glaring at me. Tauntingly so. I won't even talk about the dirty refrigerator. I won't!



So, I take a few moments to chat with my grandmother this morning. As usual, she sees right to my heart and inquires directly. Through quivering lips I share now surfaced fears..."hope in God"



After a much needed grocery run, a kitchen full of hunters returned from the field with their bounty of dove and momentary wanderings between television and internet, I think I have found my solace in a much anticipated nap..."my soul thirsts, when can I meet with the living God?"



Completed nap brings rest for my body, yet my soul is in turmoil..."why so disquieted...hope in God..."



Rest seems elusive and the tears begin, flowing now..."my tears have been my food day and night...while they say to me, "Where is your God"?



Prayers come, broken, no order...just requests, reminding God, myself, of His promises..."why is this rest so elusive?"



Despondent now, I stop. In the stairwell. I open my hand, to receive. To give thanks and receive.





And there she is, elusive rest.



Open the hand and I open the heart.



In this exchange, receiving His gifts, I am privileged. To give back a life of glory to Him. The One who gave all, to reconcile me to Himself. Searching for glory, His glory. In the midst of hard things.



This is where I find Him, O disquieted soul.



"Because eucharisteo is how Jesus, at the Last Supper, showed us to transfigure all things ~ take pain that is given, give thanks for it, and transform it into a joy that fulfills all emptiness. I have glimpsed it: This, the hard eucharisteo, the hard discipline to lean into the ugly and whisper thanks to transfigure it into beauty. The hard discipline to give thanks for all things at all times because he is all good. The hard discipline to number the griefs as grace because as the surgeon would cut open my son's finger to heal him, so God chooses to cut into my ungrateful heart to make me whole.



All is grace only because all can transfigure."



Ann Voskamp, "One Thousand Gifts"



For a special treat, go here: "All Is Grace"