Engaged in His Goodness

For two weeks now, I’ve been out of my normal routine. Away from my state, my home, my job, my friends. Living with my family, moment by moment.

It’s almost starting to feel normal, except for the things that I miss. What I can’t get away from, though, are my own issues and struggles. During these two weeks, the Lord has highlighted a couple of them. Like my tendency toward legalism and guilt. And my inability to fully be in moments of relaxation, without having to do. I think, somehow, these two issues are intertwined.

And I’m realizing that this time away, while purposeful in serving my mom and family, has personal purpose for me too. Maybe I’m the one who needed a season to rest.

Don’t get me wrong. I’ve been on the move since I arrived, helping wherever I’ve been needed. I’ve mastered leaf-blower and rake, cooked and cleaned, cycled through laundry and dishes, folded clothes (which I hate), driven to medical appointments, picked up groceries, rearranged furniture, answered the phone…even attended a banquet with Dad since Mom couldn’t go.

But in the process, I’ve had some fun too. Mom needed a ride to start her Christmas shopping. So I got to start mine—and do a little for myself! I’ve visited with more family members and family friends than I ever see in one visit. I’ve stayed up late reading books. Not to mention writing.

And I startedto feel guilty about it all. Then, two verses stood out a couple days ago: “Every good thing given and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of Lights…” (James 1:17) and “Return to your rest, O my soul, for the Lord has dealt bountifully with you” (Psalm 116:7).

Ever since then, I’ve been a little more relaxed, at least inwardly. Not only am I allowed to simply rest in God’s lavishly abundant gifts, I’m supposed to. Mom is doing well. Being with her during this season is truly a gift. It’s going to feel strange when I return home and she’s not there falling asleep on the couch or riding next to me in the car.
But for right now, today, I’m simply going to receive the gift of our relationship. The gift of extra time to read. The joy of watching the season’s final leaves drift slowly to the ground I grew up loving. The freedom from the responsibilities that make me feel like life is about doing, and not about being.

I can, after all, only live one moment at a time. I want to be fully present, fully engaged in the Father’s goodness, before the opportunity to enjoy it slips away.