Hark how the sacred Calm, that broods around Bids ev'ry fierce tumultous Passion ease

May 2, 2013

Rest is a good thing by Jenny Coverdale Turner

Dad is restless tonight, not comfortable, doing a fair amount of imagining. It's a little hard to sleep.

Thinking of him, of his ending of days.  I guess the good thing is to be surrounded by people who love you, who you have loved. I am so thankful for his sweetness, cordiality, faithfulness, thankfulness, gentleness, patience...it really does speak to me.  I want to sit next to him and absorb it– I need it so much in my own soul.    

I so much want to see him relieved of this burden of his shutting down body.  What freedom that will be for him–and yet, God is working and speaking through him still, not maybe with little red Bibles that long ago ceased to be red, but with his own true self that he has been so shy or reticent to show. So I guess I have to trust like him in God's timing, when his time is really done.

His hands exploring his face, grasping after things just out of his reach, asking for Honey or Scotty or shaving with bar soap or licking an ice cream cone.

Now anxious with his britches, now "Perfect!" bursts from his lips, and "Look at that candle!"  all those twisted and gunked up neurons firing so randomly.  Smiles play across his face.

His arms and legs are so lean now, wasting away–sometimes I think I see the young man, I imagine a 30-year-old man, at ease in his body, healthy and agile and limbs full of life force, as he grasps his knees and relaxes, having hiked up the hill with Mom, now looking out over the valley.

Consternation....fear........"Oh!"  Can I wipe that away with my hand?

Please, please, hoping he drifts off soon....rest is a good thing.

Hark how the sacred Calm, that broods around

Bids ev'ry fierce tumultous Passion ease

And Peter directed his gaze at him, as did John, and said, “Look at us.” And he fixed his attention on them, expecting to receive something from them. Acts 3:4-5

The In His time thing again, He makes all things beautiful in His time.

This crippled guy had been waiting a very long time.  Day after day, year after year, someone had carried him to the Beautiful Gate, outside of the Beautiful Gate, to ask for alms.  

It is likely that even He, the great Noticer of the hurting one in the crowd had passed this way before on His way to the Hour of Prayer.  And had not stopped.  

In His time.  

And now the cripple lay there, sprawled hopelessly in the shade of the thick wall which stood between him and the Presence of God, looking downward, not even daring to meet the glance of the madding crowd's ignoble strife.  With absolutely no expectations beyond a few tossed coins towards his next meal. 

And Peter and John had a schedule to keep.  A patterned rhythm structured to keep perspective and offer honor and praise to Whom it is due.  A worthy plan.  

Yet.  This afternoon, nay, even this moment, changed the course of history.  That gentle tug.  Now.  Now is the time.  He Who Is Not Bound by Time works though and in it.  And Peter and John, full of Spirit, paused and noticed.  And stepped into the fray.  With firm, quiet confidence Peter reached out with his right hand and raised him up and immediately his feet and ankles were made strong.  Walking and leaping and praising God.

Beautiful.

And many of those who had heard the word believed, and the number of the men came to about five thousand.

Beautiful.

Now the full number of those who believed were of one heart and soul. 

Beautiful.

Dear Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth is named, may I be strengthened with power through His Spirit in my inner being and know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that I may be filled with all the fullness of God.  

And live at rest in Your time.  In the Sacred Calm.  Yet poised, all all times, Your time, be ready to extend my right hand out in the Name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, in the name of Him Who walked among men and showed us how to live.