Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: HANDIWORK (01/14/21)
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TITLE: The Master's Rhythm | Previous Challenge Entry
By Lorie Coffin
01/20/21 -
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No wonder.
Majestic peaks soar skyward, proud in snowcapped hats, to salute the dawn. Valleys below, abundant with flow, seize the day. Multitudes of snowdrop flowers peek heads from midnight sleep but the awakening, a beckoning from the Creator, is not altogether silent.
Goats bring forth their young with bellows while eager swallows return to budding bush ready to conceal their coming bounty. Eagles take flight and fish the streams, seeking refuge in the crag of the rocks. Bears yawn, leaving their dens as melts the winter snow. The warmth of sun and clear blue sky give way to hope.
If ever a chance at life there was, this be it.
Meltwater jewels slake the thirst of the newly born and wash away the remnants of the harshness of winter past. Fresh mountain air, the exhalation of trees, the oxygen of life. Enraptured birdsong fills the air as earth awakens at its Creator’s voice, the alarm clock of heaven right on time.
Sigh. Is it springtime yet?
Alas, it seems the Master’s rhythm does not belong to the mountains only but also the valley floor. Here I sit in my little cottage midwinter, awaiting this experience of spring’s energizing power, for now only in my memory and imagination. I know it’s coming, my favorite season, but God is still at work in my hibernation. There is still life under the snow as bears, squirrels and snakes can testify.
God’s rhythmic flow even now beckons me to follow in His ways, to fully rest in a time of rest, to entrust myself into His care in the quiet of winter. The mountain splendor speaks and I ponder my lot. His handiwork within and without lift my spiritual gaze to Him.
Be still and know that I am God, I hear Him whisper. Would I have missed it in the summer season; His voice, His molding, His wooing? I’m listening now to His voice of grace but I must be quiet.
Then I hear it again. Perspective.
The Lord is sovereign over all, still on the throne, perfect in wisdom, lavish in love and creative in artistic beauty. He fashions me still even when the slumber of winter seems to slow my forward gait and my pursuit of spiritual growth seems entangled with the issues of life and heartache. His handiwork in me brings forth treasures in this season I never thought I needed, virtues like perseverance and patience as I wait with creation for the coming hope. So much promise.
I will not give up. I will wait.
Yes, God has a rhythm. He is in control. Life and death, joy and sorrow, winter and summer; all of these obey Him. He knows the deer as they give birth in spring and when they run through naked winter vineyards awaiting that day.
Do the mountains fret? Nor shall I. Do the seasons reverse their course or the seas draw back their boundaries? May it never be. There is a heartbeat, a rhythm, one that I endeavor to capture as my own, that stills my soul like a weaned child with its mother. God’s heartbeat.
I am the creature in whom He works, as marvelous as His mountain handiwork on display. In me, He is quietly making another masterpiece that will be on display one day for all to see.
There is life beneath the snow of my soul this winter. So, I wait in awe and I rest, satisfied to be the creature in the capable hands of one so great.
As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, my God.
Psalm 42:1
Even the sparrow has found a home and the swallow a nest for herself-where she may have her young-a place near your altar, Lord Almighty, my King and my God.
Psalm 84:3
Job 39:1-3, 27-28
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