CATTITUDE ADJUSTMENT
Before I awake, I feel the longings stir in my soul… just to be a cat in the sun, stretched out in God’s warmth, lazy in the most luxurious way. Ahhhhhh, purring, I feel the promise of Sabbath caress my tired mind, as I gradually emerge from the night.
My man is away in this off-day, serving where he is called, once again sacrificing his own needs and desires for the higher purpose. He does so willingly; he is keenly aware of the privilege and the brevity of his life. “But a vapor,” he habitually quotes James 4:14 when describing his inner urgency, his strain to complete his life’s mission.
In his absence this Monday, our day, I savor the solitude that awoke me. I am aching for time to just reflect, just soak in Scriptures and music, and allow my mind and my time to wander wherever the hours take it. Decades with Him have taught me how sweetly and gently He restores my soul on rare days like this. So I’m fairly sure my desires are the same as His when I meet Him in the Scriptures that are His love letter to us.
Still in that quiet place, I distractedly look around at our home bearing the obvious marks of many days too rushed to attend to it. I don’t even remember the meals left on the dishes in the sink, and how in the world did my shoes scatter all over the house? Neat freaks have never been words associated with us, so it’s hardly some compulsory impulse that now rises within me, trying to reach my conscience. I try to swat it away and squeeze my eyes shut.
“No, no, no!” I reprimand the clutter, “You won’t get me! You won’t take over my day.”
Many times, that would be the best response, ignoring the temporary, ever-recurring mess, in favor of soaking in the disciplines of eternity. And I would never ever recommend sacrificing a clean spirit for a clean house.
But after an hour or so basking in His life-giving Presence, a luxury my husband relinquished today for equally life-giving, and much costlier obedience, it’s as if the shadow of an authoritative Lion blocks my sunshine. I sense Jesus rising from our mellow lounging to get my attention.
He waits till I look at Him, waits till my eyes focus in on His, and there’s a glint of humor playing behind the question He knows I will understand. The reference alone to His conversation with Peter in John 21, stills me. I know how much like Peter I am: impetuous, my mouth and actions usually several steps ahead of wisdom, and it always makes complete sense to me, until He intercepts me the way He does now:
“Elisabet, do you love Me?”
“Yes, Lord, You know I do.”
“Then tidy your house for your man.”
“But this is supposed to be my sabbath, my spiritual day.”
“So is it about you or about Me?”
“It’s about us! How I long to spend time with You.” (See how spiritual that sounds..)
“Today, I want our time together to bless your man. Tidy the house for him, so he can relax when he comes home. And prepare him dinner. And be undistracted when he arrives. If you love Me, that is.”
Busted! And yet, it’s a fair internal conflict, with which even He Himself wrestled, while limited to time in a fragile body like ours.
“Now in the morning, having risen a long while before daylight, He went out and departed to a solitary place; and there He prayed. And Simon and those who were with Him searched for Him. When they found Him, they said to Him, “Everyone is looking for You.” (Mark 1:35-37)
And He went with them, onward on the journey directed entirely by His Father.
Like a conductor of a symphony, only He has the full picture, so when He directs at times to play my instrument at full blast for a longer allegro than I like, and at others to quiet into an adagio, only He controls the movements. Only He hears the entire score, and if the music I play is His, I must follow His lead.
My music today is the purring of a cat who has heard the corrective roar of her Lion King. My will finds rest in His authority. My heart finds rest in His. My life finds harmony in His generous love that tunes all my affections and priorities to His wisdom.
