Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Tilling the Soil of the Heart

cross photo IMG_1985_zpsf39faa7e.jpg


This morning the sky is prophesying and the wind is bending the trees low with the promise of storm. I stand at the window and think of how the earth speaks—how we’ve learned the language of the skies and seas but how we so often miss the plaintive cries of our own language.

Last night he told me everything that is wrong. He spelled out all that is broken with his world and why it can’t be fixed. The more he talked the more hopeless it became and I was silent because, how many times have I said the wrong things? But he knows me well so he finished off with a defensive maneuver.

And prayer sure isn’t helping.”

The other day—at work—as I leaned over a patient’s bed to help him get more comfortable, the cross that I wear close to my heart slipped out from under my blouse and dangled loose. I saw his eyes fix on that small flash of light and then shift to my face.

That cross can’t save you, you know,” he said. “Only the cross of Calvary can.”

I lifted my hand and fingered those bits of intersecting metal. My husband gifted me with this necklace on a Mother’s Day a few years ago. It’s the second same one he’s bought for me—the first having been left and lost in a beach house at the Outer Banks years ago. It’s white gold, with one tiny diamond in the middle and one on each tip. His mother wears one exactly like it. I don’t like to take it off for fear of losing it. When I run and pray, I sometimes feel it burning under the thin cloth of my shirt.

Yes, I know,” I said, looking him in the eye. “But this cross reminds me of that one. Sometimes I need reminded.”

I remember how he closed his mouth tight then, and nodded a curt bob.

Sometimes I need reminded.

I finger the cross that sits close to my heart as I listen about the broken and the why it can’t be fixed. And even though I know this cross can’t save me…it does this time. Because it reminds me of those 400 years of silence from God between the prophet Malachi and John the Baptist’s words of preparation. And I wonder how this much shorter silence is preparing the soil of our hearts.

And because I need reminded—and he does too—that God moves, even in the silence…because sometimes we need reminded…

I take his hands. And we pray.

With the lovely Jen:


And Emily:

41 comments:

jodi@curiousacorn said...

Praying with you today that sparks of right will be seen.

Linda Stoll said...

sometimes there are no words to be said, just open hearts that listen well ...

Sandra Heska King said...

I need to be reminded of that, too. Often. That God moves in the silence. And even when prayer doesn't seem to help, we join hands and pray...

Jennifer 'Miner' Ferguson said...

I have been afraid of silence for a long time. But God is teaching me. Teaching me still.

smoothstones said...

I've thought, too, that prayer wasn't helping. But down the pike I realized it helped a great deal. I think you're right: it's something we should do anyway and no matter what.

Linda Chontos said...

Learning to live more in the silence. I wear one too Laura - because sometimes I too need reminded.

Pam said...

This touches me deeply, Laura. Somehow reminds me of sharing Him with someone who recently died. And praying He understood that in the end. Thank you as always for such lovely thoughts.

Shelly Miller said...

Your writing makes me take a big exhale and I feel peace. And want to read more of it.

Janis Cox said...

Touched by your message. I too wear a cross - and don't like to take it off. I know it is silly but it means so much to me - and the reminder is always there. Like "don't forget this Jan". I would love if you would link to my new Wednesday's Word - spreading the word of God one word at a time.

Blessings,
Janis

amyscanderson said...

The power of touch and the power of prayer~what a power-filled ending that's more like a beginning here. That reminder of the cross is so needed partly because it's a reminder of the resurrection that came next. Sometimes hope can seem dead, but the beauty of love taking a hand, holding it, and remembering the one who resurrects. Tender yet powerful, Laura.

Hazel Moon said...

Yes, it is good to be reminded often - -

Jerry said...

Thank you for the remind...so much better than never mind.

Jean Wise said...

This writing sings and so resonates in my heart. I reread it twice. Yes we all need reminding, especially when we can't fix things. lovely post

tinuviel said...

God does move, even in silence, doesn't He? Thank you for that reminder. May He move in this brokenness poured out to you, too.

Emily Wierenga said...

hi beautiful friend... i love this... i love that you were able to minister to him, and that by falling--which is all we can ever do at the feet of Jesus--this cross made its way into this man's heart. bless you. (ps. you linked this up with a link-up i posted earlier this week, versus this week's post which is here, just in case you want more IP readers to find it: http://www.emilywierenga.com/2013/01/imperfect-prose-on-thursdays-light.html)

SimplyDarelne said...

Me, too. Mine is a cross on a heart locket... reminds me that what I hold dearest is actually in His hands.


That image, wow.


BTW, loving you and yours with prayers. Still.


Blessings.

Laura Boggess said...

Loving you back, Darlene. Can you believe I lost my first cross like that that he gifted me with? It still makes me sad to think it. And when I called the place to ask if it'd been found, of course it was nowhere to be seen. I hope somebody extra nice has my first cross now...

Laura Boggess said...

Oh, goodness, I went to fix and spent a chunk of time catching up on your posts and just want to say how much I love you, lady. Your heart is so precious. Thank you for the ways you share. What a gift your words are, Em.

Laura Boggess said...

Thank you, C. I am not a very good one to wait in the silence, so this was a good reminder for me. Sometimes, I'm preaching to myself with these words. Does that ever happen to you?

Laura Boggess said...

Thank you, Jean. I need reminding quite often, unfortunately :). Hoping you are well. We are hoping the groundhog was right here in WV--it's cold outside!

Laura Boggess said...

Jerry! How are you? I need to get over to your place and catch up on your poetry. I sure could use some right now...

Laura Boggess said...

Jerry, I cannot find you? Where are you writing these days?

Laura Boggess said...

And then again. And again. And again. Or is that just for slow learners like me?

Laura Boggess said...

Thank you for this, Amy. Sometimes it's the hardest thing I do.

Laura Boggess said...

Thank you for inviting me, Janis! I'm always behind on these things. I'll have to stop by and check it out. Do you know what? Sometimes I take my cross off so I can put it back on. Don't ever want to take these things for granted...

Laura Boggess said...

You are a sweetheart and I feel the same about your words. Love you, Shelly.

Laura Boggess said...

That means so much to me, Pam. Thank you for sharing it. What a blessing you are, my friend.

Laura Boggess said...

Do you have any tips for this impatient woman? :) Oh, the silence. Sometimes it's deafening. Love you, Linda.

Laura Boggess said...

I do get discouraged sometimes, Brandee. But every time I am obedient--every time I take his hand and bow the head...we are blessed in that moment. That's something, isn't it?

Laura Boggess said...

And you have such a teachable heart, Jen. I think I'll be learning this lesson for the rest of my life.

Laura Boggess said...

Wise words, Linda. And very true.

Laura Boggess said...

Thank you, Jodi :). Have you started Roverandom yet?

Laura Boggess said...

Yes, this is the substance of faith, isn't it, Sandy? That must be why it is so hard sometimes...

Jerry said...

http://geraldthewriter.com/ Here you go Laura. My writing is hit and miss lately blog wise. I have been chipping away on a memoir of my mother's last two years.

Jerry said...

oops. To answer your question. I am good and busy. Blessings your way!

Laura Boggess said...

Thanks, Jerry. I've just returned but my comment was gobbled up. So you might find me in the spam. Here is what I said:

Oh, I'm glad I found you. This makes me happy. It is snowing here right now...soo cold too. Maybe a snowflake melting inside might melt some other things frozen there of late.

It does sound like you are busy--doing good things. What a wonderful project to devote your time to. Praying it is a healing and beautiful process.

Jerry said...

thank you

it000016 said...

Dear Laura,

I have nominated you for a Versatile Blogger Award . Congratulations
and thank you for so faithfully teaching, uplifting and inspiring through your
blogs! The originators of this award
request that you post 7 random facts about yourself and the names of 15 other
blogs you would like to nominate for this award. The Versatile Blogger Award
button can be copied from my blog. Well done and God bless!
Laurie
http://savedbygracebiblestudy.blogspot.com/

Janis Cox said...

Laura,
That's funny because when I do have to take it off I have a terrible time getting back on. The clasp is so tiny and my fingers don't work well and hubby has trouble with big fingers. So I try not to take it off. :)

tinuviel said...

All. The. Time. Which is probably way God has me write. :)

Peace of Christ to you, friend.

(sent from my phone)

Tara_pohlkottepress said...

oh, this movement in silence. how cool metal against our skin can remind us of so much more. there is movement there too, and all around when we are quiet enough to find it. beautiful writing, as always.