I inhale Him. I exhale peace. I've lost myself. I am found hidden in the chamber of his heart.
If anyone is searching for me these holidays, I'll be nestled under the shadow of His wings. Resting under the apple tree of divine refreshment, where his fruits are ever sweet to my taste. The Prince of Peace is teaching me to rest. Abide. Linger.
Silent night. Peace on Earth. He is leading me by the hand, taking me back to the pure essence of the holidays that has been buried under the chaos of tradition. Forget the presents, I'll be delighting in the presence.
Looking over my shoulder, I see three months of holy, blessed chaos. Learning much. Getting to know many. Exploring myself. Letting go. Embracing change. Shifting paradigms. Redefining meaning. Question marks fade. Promises fulfilled. Flames kindled. Hope awakened. This is has been my daily reality as a ministry school student, and a partaker in a season of more bliss, enjoyment, and fulfillment than was ever painted on the canvas of my imagination.
But, whilst being swept away by the winds of change, He reminds me to keep breathing. Keep resting. Always abiding.
As the Christmas Holidays have embraced me with open arms, I realize that their timing couldn't have been more opportune. Like Adam, who knew nothing apart from day seven's sacred rest, woven into my DNA is a longing for Eden, a desire for ease, silence, stillness and ceasing to do anything but know that He is God and He is good. Busyness and chaos wasn't as much His idea as it was society's. I am a vessel of peace, I was born to lie down in green pastures, while his voice like rushing waters flows over me, flows through me. As the curtain tore, my Shepherd led me back to Eden, which is now within me. Rest is internal. The wellspring of life is in me. He has made himself at home in the tabernacle of my heart, and I recline on the sofa in His. My God designed rest, and then created me with the longing and ability to enjoy it. Adam knew peace outside of himself, I have the Prince of Peace abiding within. Adam walked with God at twilight's dawn. I walk with him unceasingly in my garden, my heart.
Rest is internal. Rest is His essence. As I sit under the shade of the Almighty, I feast on the fruit of his works, and my heart beats to the rhythm of the song singing "it has been done."
He calls me. "Come away my love." We sit beside the River of life. "Jump in," He calls. I trust. There is no fear in His love. We float in the colorful waters that flow from the throne. His embrace reminds me of what he has done. Those nail pierced hands testify of a better way. The way of peace. The way of life. "What could you do that my blood has not already done?" He whispers. "Rest my child. Lay your head on my chest, so I can sing salvation's lullaby over you once again."