Disclaimer: this one will wander a bit.
I don't really read the contents of my wastebasket. Don't usually pay attention to the ashes under my grill. Nope. I just toss them. They are on the way out, and I don't care about them for that reason. I care about what matters, naturally. About what's staying, not what's going.
Sometimes the eyes of my soul are in need of focus-intention as well.
"You are not going to be here much longer, and no one spends time or thought on what is soon left behind." -Frances J. Roberts in Come Away My Beloved
Life is fire, and trial by it. It just is, and some things just are what they are. There are some things you just can't choose or change, but one thing you can choose almost every time is your focus. Another is your attitude.
I have a limited number of breaths on this earth. This heart beats finitely. Forgive me if I'd like to use them well and spend them wisely. Focus not on the ashes, but on treasures, on the brilliance of the gold refined, and even higher on the rainbow shining over the fire.
"As we grow in grace, we should see a continuing trend away from sin, replaced by a progression in righteousness." -Ava Pennington
God weaves my reading, and walks me through the path of His Truth again today. John 21 finishes the words of the Beloved Disciple (and could Jesus possibly love me as much?), about tending and feeding sheep if we really love the Good Shepherd. Focus. What next, God? "Genesis," He says and points. Creator. Miracle Maker. Almighty Author and Perfecter. Reading continues then to the first woman - Beautiful Companion. Helper. First Sinner - taker, grasp-er, holder, in a generational curse of control-clutchers, and here I set begging for the strength to release. Self-control to open these hands and let go.
Daily devotion, He holds my fist in His huge hand and pulls me through lines that read of giving grace. Reminders that giving is impossible to do with clenched fists. The top of the page reading from Ephesians 4:29. No unwholesome talk from lips that speak or thumbs that text, or even words unspoken but communicated nonetheless on my face. Focus. And conviction burns hot again but is followed quickly by cooling waters of mercy. When communication fit by His Spirit to every occasion is edifying, this is when grace is given to those who might hear.
And re-circling back to focus and to what I am looking; to whom I am reaching with these hands freshly opened once again today. (And why, oh why, Robyn, did you close and clench again?)
"The hour of His judgement has come."
And it is coming so fast, Jesus, and so are You. Might it even be today? (Sunday's sermon resounds and reverberates of my eternal destination, and no, we're not there yet. But soon.) With numbered heart beats and lung breaths and hand-releases, this day, renewed, I set my face like flint and vow to use each one for these utmost priorities and laser-focused To-Do's:
He said in a loud voice, “Fear God and give Him glory, for the hour of his judgment has come. Worship the One who made heaven and earth, the sea and springs of water.” -Revelation 14:7 (CEV)
Nothing else. Nothing less.
Because why would I spend my life reading the rubbish when I could be opening my eyes to rainbows and opening my hands to grace?
Lord, Jesus show me. Help me. Lead me. Open these hands and fill them with more of You. To fill my moments with Your will and not with trash. I don't deserve that. More importantly, neither do You. What you deserve is all that I have, and once again, I long to give it back in love. Teach me to Fear You. Permit me to give you Glory. Receive my worship of You alone.