Rest, Restoration and The Golden Hour

pond scarf hammock faveI took myself on a bit of a wild goose chase. Wild goose chases are exhilarating if they are productive. And I was in need of a wildly curious wondering off into the blue. Off into a land of discovery.

Good health had been mine for a very long time. Rolling along for what seemed like an eternity, I had not been sick. Until I got sick. I am not sure what “under the weather” means or from where it originated. I could go on a wild goose chase and uncover more about this expression.

But where was I. Oh I was sick. So sick. My ordinary became scrambled and my body and soul cried out for rest and restoration. And when one enters the land of blah and stays there for what feels like an eternity, self-pity can creep in.

And that is where perspective-changers come in. You know them. And you have them in your own life. Friends who break through the dark and dank. The dull and gloom. They change your perspective with a word or phrase of encouragement and offer hope on a proverbial silver platter.

I was admittedly wallowing. Feeling less than poetic. Uncreative. And sick and tired of being sick and tired. The sun was coming out on the outside but the insides of my world were deeply entrenched in winter. So as any good self-pitying poet would, I felt pathetically left out of the bright and sunshiny world. And fell into the land where the blah trees grow. My world was blanketed by rest and restoration. Hmmmm, sounds like an enviable, vacation like place in which to linger.

I didn’t see it that way. I saw through the lens of pain and sadness.

A friend sent me a well-timed text, a quote and a word. And I latched on and sped off in pursuit of wild geese. And I  fell in love with the words of J.M. Barrie. She texted me this quote late one afternoon as I lay in my bed, sick and tired. And it was like honey on the back of my throat, and a warm bath drawn for lingering, for soaking a weary soul. It was simply, medicinal.

“You must be warned against letting the golden hours slip by; yes, but some of them are golden only because we let them slip by.” – J.M. Barrie

And then she, my friend, said these words:

“So rest and restore and live to play another day.”

How simply profound. These words found me in a place of soul fatigue. Feeling like I was dormant, passive even and that life was actively passing me by while I was hurting and trying to heal.They revived my weary spirit. And that lead to a bit of a goose chase. (You thought I forgot about the goose chase.)

These words lifted me, gave me hope and I became ravenous, not just hungry for more. So I went in search and found wonderful quote upon quote from the author of Peter Pan. And I accepted and received the implicit permission I was given this particular evening, to rest and restore and prepare for the healing. To sink down into the dormant time of sickness, to lean into a time of rest which would give way to healing. And to save up and expect the beautiful, the wholeness and wellness  to return to my living.

I could see that passion and beauty would return. With the smallest of shifts in my perspective, ushered in on the wings of a friend’s words.

Words are that for me. Agents of healing. Life-affirming and life-giving.

So as I read more of Barrie’s words and reflected on my season of sick and ick, I came to the thought that perhaps one of the greatest gifts we can give is the gift of encouragement to one another. And I love the picture of the Golden Hour and its various meanings. (I have been on a goose chase discovering the meanings of this phrase too. More on that soon.)

I have uncovered some words for you. May you be encouraged by his today. And perhaps one day or some day even mine. Because I think I was made to write and encourage. And maybe I got well so I could continue to do both.

For goodness sakes I had a sinus infection, though I felt I was a death’s door, I would clearly recover. But in this time of sickness followed by healing,  I realized even more clearly, as the passion slowly came back: I do desire for my own art to be life-giving, to inspire, to encourage and to whisper a call to see beauty and to shift perspective.

Sometimes it takes a period of pain to regain perspective all over again. To redeclare what our art is called to do. To define more clearly our purpose and our call. Pinpoint how it is we are to use the gifts, well. Not just good. But well. Perhaps very well.

Enjoy these words from J.M. Barrie. And if you need to rest and restore, take care and do. Perhaps we can play another day.

“Those who bring sunshine to the lives of others cannot keep it from themselves.”

“God gave us memory so that we might have roses in December.”

“Shall we make a new rule of life from tonight: always try to be a little kinder than necessary?”

pond scarf hammock fave

Thank you for allowing me to bring my words here. May you be encouraged to find the poetry and the beauty that is uniquely in this day.

Joining Lyli, sweet Lyli

Encouragement – A Letter To A Friend

Today is Day 22. Today’s word is Encouragement. To read the collective sashay sway  shimmy  swish and swirl over here. To read others in the Series go here, to The Nester’s place.

Dear Encouraging You,

Today is your Birsday. Can I tell Webster that he has a new word for his book?

Have I told you lately that I love you. I bet I have. But I am telling you again. Beautiful you are Day 22. You are laughing that you have a day in my series.

Because you are the reason there was ever a Day One, in this writing life. And you would say it was God and I would too, but you helped Him. And we would both say He doesn’t need my help.

But you were an encourager. And you have been. The accountability partner I lean into. What richness my life has with your flesh and bones, hands and feet, lungs and laughter, heart and soul, and words and words and more words, and love rooted in my own.

You have given birth to hope and held a sister’s hand right smack in the middle of the yuck. Sweet you have had a word, a prayer, a dream and a strong arm of encouragement to grasp hold of a sinking drowning spirit.

The day I said I was done with writing. Or was it writing was done with me. Or was it I give up or was it I am through with this. You may be my memory here, but I know your words were brave and strong.

And you spoke into burying and putting under rocks things the Lord gifts.

Friends don’t let friends give up.

Encouragent reaches the long limb of grace into a life and drags it back like a mother cat moving her kittens into safety, out of a ditch.

You have shown that encouragement knows in her knower, deep in her inside places, when to speak and when to listen and when to love.

Tough and tender co-exist in the life of an encourager, the life of the precious you.

And when desperation despair dysfunction depression, an army of d’s show up, we put on the armour and together we battle, and together we stand, and together we fight.

For our lives, our children, our husbands, our families, our God. And His glory.

And there is always the beautiful. There is your lense, your eye behind the camera sharing the beautiful, calling it out, like a Southern Debutante at her coming out. Here she is, Beauty, give her her Day, present her for all to see.

When we swim upstream in a river of tears, like salmon seeking a place to spawn or float our boats down the outgoing tide of tears of joy, you encourage.

We’ve known death and life and you’ve said “though He slay me” more than once.

We’ve know some prodigal stories lived out and built trust and hope as tall as the Empire State building. We’ve cried to the Heavens and screamed to them too.

We’ve pounded the pavements and pounded our fists. And we have celebrated, because that heart of yours links up with mine and we say we have today, we have today, we have today.

There has been building homes, and nests. Designing and decorating .Hanging art and hanging out, journeying far and near. We have Glamped,we have Aqua-glamped and we  have stood against the Great Recession, sticking out our tongues, saying nay nay nay you can’t get me.

There have been literal Hurricanes and the other kind too. We have stood.

But never alone. Always with Him, three strands of a cord. Encouragement weaves that way.

And courage sits firmly in the middle and holds her ground.

Happy 60th bursday, H.  Thank you for inspiring and encouraging this sister. For walking out, talking out, and praying out this wonderful glorious life we have this side of heaven.

If you go first I will never forgive you. But if you do save a place for me. And yes I know it doesn’t work like that.

We have a lot of rocking left to do on the porch. A lot of sorting out and figuring out.

My heart needs more encouragement from you.

Thank you for showing the world how to live a life as an encourager.

Happy Birthday sweet friend. Your life is a work of art.

And thank you for encouraging me to pick up the pen and always live the highest and best, with joy and a spirit of celebration.

There are no words. And that may be the first time.(You know I know your thoughts).

Beginning your 61st year with laughter and love,

elizabeth

Counting Gifts because of Ann –of hope for a child, joy in family, praise in worship and worship in praise yesterday in church, time with family, conversations with a child restoring possibilities, expectant hearts for a birthday celebration, new writing friends friendships strengthened, new encouragers in my life, hearing my daughter’s praise music on her radio instead of the other station, watching her worship our Lord in church, hearing my son sing soft and low during worship yesterday, cold air, tough love, smiling face of my sweet friend Monica, a visit from the young man and his girl who has already flown the coop (tomorrow can’t come soon enough), their future and God’s plan, the flowers from The Patient One which still warm my spirit with their autumnal colors, life.

Joining Ann, Michelle, Laura, and L.L. Barkat

Thank you for traveling with me through this series. To subscribe click hereand we will keep journeying together.