In the Bulrushes
It occurred to me today – we are in the bulrushes. I think, “It’s just one of those weeks.” and then, “or maybe months,” “Well, maybe it’s just us.” and finally, “Who am I kidding, this it’s just life, for everyone.”
Sometimes I feel it more keenly. It’s not comfy here. Things poke me in 100’s or places, my feet sink deep, covered with mud. I can’t hear my own thoughts over the symphony of insects.
I am Miriam. I stand, feet sloshing in the bulrushes, watching that basket full of life floating down the river, heart in my throat, not knowing where the heck it will land, no strings to pull it one way or the other.
Even seen someone hit imaginary breaks? I remember it well in my early driving days. My poor parents! It’s what I do in the bulrushes. I pretend to drive. I pretend that I can strategize and make it all line up…and it’s all just a stressful game of pretend.
…and I may not know, but HE does. So, I look to the one that has the plan, the plan that sometimes unfolds too quickly for me grasp and at others it has me playing my desperate game of pretend. But that game helps no one, so I try to trade it in for kneeling.
I kneel and I find peace. I stand up, and I’m back to my silly games. Ridiculous as it may sound, I think the only way to stand in these dang bulrushes is on your knees.
Lord, please help me to hold the posture!
…and Lord, help me to look back one day and see the gifts that come in the waiting, the training and endurance gained in what I just want to call the “damn bulrushes” in this moment. You Lord! You make beautiful things out of dust, and you make paths of life through days of waiting…in the bulrushes!
(Participating in the blog train? Look at yesterday’s post.)