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The unfolding of your words gives light; it gives understanding to the simple.

Psalm 119:130~NIV

Sunlight radiates in, reflects across the table, through a blue Bell~Mason jar .

Galax leaves, also known as wandflower or bettleweed, leaves; waxy green, heart shaped, spill over. Native to my hometown, Galax, Virginia. We claim them as our own.

They were gifted to me for Mother’s Day. A whirlwind trip, winding roads, a peak with one eye over the mountain’s edge.

I filled the jar with water, loosened string binding the leaves together. Pressed out flat, stacked neatly one upon the other. Placing them in, one by one, I watch the stems tangling, winding tight, making space.

I thought about previous words written here. How God has planted cultivate in my heart. The importance of what I cultivate along this wilderness marathon. I can meander through, not taking rest and Living Water, leaving me to crash and turn bitter.

For an overachieving, slightly recovering perfectionist, slowing down, learning to dance a new rhythm has been hard for me. I am slowly learning layer by layer, mile by mile, what is important. Not to push through, rather to slow and savor.

Birdsong floating in on gentle breezes, my background music these spring days, I find the more quiet I cultivate, the more I crave.

The more I read, the more I write. Untangling myself from the noise and clatter of social media, the urge to go there comes with less frequency. Less urgency.

Looking back to days filled with noise, checklists, over~doing, over~extending, and over~living. This season is a Gift of Grace.

These days I lean towards being more intentional, more contemplative. No longer fighting it or wearing myself thin bumping up against a noisy world.

I sat in a waiting room this week. A television playing, the noise prattled on and on, invasive. I saw an older gentlemen struggling to hear his caregiver’s words. A mother vying for her child’s attention. Several like me, with books in hand, annoyed by the grating sound.

Worrying a bit I may be too comfortable in my quiet space. I remember God placed me here. Whether for a season or until I see His face, I do not know.

What I do know, there is purpose here.Learning a new rhythm in His Presence. In His arms. Refining rough edges, turning me from busy doing towards quietly being. Cultivating a quiet humility in my prideful ways. This one will take some time~smile. A. Lot. Of. Time.

Letting go of expectations. Whether they are my own, or what the world dictates.

I’m finding it easier to let go of the things I have gripped in hands curled tight.

Cultivate holy in the hard, allowing Him to meet me in the pain.

For the one today, who may not be able to see past the hard, I pray you will look up and find Him. I pray your eyes will be opened and you will see HIM in your hard.

Then Elisha prayed and said, “O Lord, please open his eyes that he may see.” So the LORD opened the eyes of the young man, and he saw, and behold, the mountain was full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha.

2Kings 6:17 ~ESV

Gifts of Grace

Tammy Mashburn

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