Remnants

Awakening

  --by Joy Lenton, 

from her book,  Seeking Solace

In the quiet morning hour

I press my ear to earth

And listen with intent,

Because in the stillness

I can hear soft breath

Of Holy Spirit sighs

Awakening all around

And as the world stirs

It heeds the call to arise,

As sun's slanting rays are

Beckoning us forth

With silent sounds

To surrender our lives

To Love's gentle power

Poured out for these days.

I awoke early this morning with the words of this poem echoing in my heart. I had fallen to sleep with these same words resting in my heart. So I hobbled down the stairs before my feet were ready to tackle the steps, and took my camera out into the sunshine. Would the sunrise still be glowing over the new garden? I had to know.

It was this "Garden of Remnants" that drew me out, because the word "Remnant" has become a sort of theme for me. Last year, a dear friend gave me a journal for my Birthday and wrote this note in the flyleaf, "Maybe the Lord will allow you to journal about His Remnant from end to beginning," with this Scripture reference added:

"I have reserved for myself ... a remnant chosen by grace."  Romans 11:4-5

So when the Lord touched my heart with a poem about "Awakening" I knew that He was speaking something important that needed my listening:

He is awakening the Remnants of Himself in my heart that have lain covered up beneath my service.

Last week the Landscapers came and stripped away the old Butterfly Garden that I wrote about here: "The Garden That Was"  Then this past weekend, the time was urgent for rescuing the remnants saved from the old.  But I was in no condition for the gardening marathon that was required, as I limped around with the bruising and pain of yet another steroid shot given into the locked-up tendons in my foot. So my husband, who is definitely NOT a gardener, gave me the gift of transplanting, and cleaning, and carting, and making this new Garden of Remnants from the strippings of the old. 

As I soaked in the warmth of the sun's rising over this humble little plot, there was a beating in my heart for the new that is really very old.  A remnant from long ago.  As a child, my heart was stirred to be with Jesus and soak in HIS warmth at a very young age.  But as with all of us, life moves on, and duties begin to shape the way that we process our days. I learned early on to be the caregiver before the care became too heavy--that meant I was always on alert, ready to jump and take care of things at a moment's notice.  My Mom required much care as she herself suffered with various sicknesses, some very real, but all of them overburdened by anxiety. There were many years that I thought she demanded more of me than was fair. But actually, she taught me how to give a good gift: I gave her the gift of serving, and in turn learned how to bless others with that same gift.  In the process I laid aside my own heart.  ...  Or so I thought ....

 "But I know whom I have believed, and am convinced that He is able to guard what I have entrusted to him."  
2 Timothy 1:12

 

Nothing is ever really lost when we belong to Jesus.  He is the perfect gatekeeper, and He watches over those childlike places in our hearts, just waiting for the right time to awaken and stir the embers of a passionate love.  Those remnants that I thought were long gone, have been in HIS care, as He has shaped and transformed them into beautiful reflections of HIS loving.  

I cannot see how my loving is meant to take shape and form in this new place.  But one thing I do know:  Jesus awakens the remnants of His Love when He calls the Garden of our hearts ready.  Ready for the new, that is actually very old. 


Thank you, Joy Lenton, for permitting me to copy your beautiful poem here!

I am linking with #TellHisStory  this week.  Won't you check out the wonderful bloggers who are also sharing there?