I’m blow drying this mop of hair, this hair with the cowlick, so heavy and thick and full, and the dryer howls and I’m rolling the wild strands all under, glancing at the quote beside the mirror, the one with a black and white picture of a long ago mama with her laced child on lap, words scrolled below in Edwardian script,
“There is no higher height to which humanity can attain than that occupied by a converted, heaven-inspired, praying mother,”
and I’m arguing with self over the day’s priorities, all those things jockeying for attention, mine, so finite and fleeting.
Should I do that? Maybe it doesn’t matter, doesn’t add up to much in the long haul, the larger scheme of things? Is it really the best spending of this day? Maybe instead it’d be better to…
I’m hounding myself and the dryer’s blasting hair and the quote’s speaking wisdom, and God startles me before a mirror in morning with His voice, clearer and louder, quieter and surer. It’s like He’s standing here, near, just by my shoulder.
“Do everything readily and cheerfully – no bickering, no second-guessing allowed!”
I turn off the blow dryer. The stillness deafens. God just spoke. (In the most unlikely of places and times?) He spoke Philippians 2:14. And I know it because those are words carved into cerebrum and heart arteries, memorized ones.
Looking into mirror, that face looking me directly in the eye knows God spoke because those are words of God we know.
It’s trifling, my interior waffling while untangling a mane of hair. And doesn’t God daily speak?
But it’s this realization, this knowing too: God speaks Words the heart knows by heart. God speaks the language I’ve learned. God speaks… and if I’ve meditated and considered and immersed myself in His vocabulary, I’ll hear that voice, His, in the rampant noise of the day, raucous and real.
And if I’ve neglected to learn His language, failed to memorize His parlance, the day’s a blur of indecipherable cacophony, the gibberish of some foreign dialect I don’t know.
Why would I want to miss understanding the very Word of God speaking into my days?
I glance again at quote by mirror and rewrite it “righter”:
“There is no higher height to which humanity can attain than that occupied by a converted, heaven-inspired, praying person, one who speaks God’s own language.”’
Picking up the pick, I comb out tangles, murmuring truth in my Father tongue.
~~
Remember January as Mega Memory Month ? I missed the end of the month celebration party, the four youngers breaking with spots and chicken pox of their own. So I wander in late, and whisper to the empty room… three verses short, but yes, Philippians 2:1-15 memorized.
And now, Psalm 145, learning the language while I row each morning, using this method.
~~
A note sent to the inbox last week from Mike, a passenger on Flight 1549, the airbird that incredibly landed in the Hudson River… Wise words to take note of…
Ann,
Thank you for your post, Live Ready.
Tomorrow will be three weeks since we landed in the Hudson River. This week and especially today have been very hard. So Aimee showed me your post, Live Ready, and I was so comforted by the Scriptures you mentioned.
Even though I was at peace in the plane, knowing that I was about to go home and see Jesus, I am learning that I need His comfort at different and often unexpected times.
Verses that I have memorized in the past have come to mind so many times the past few weeks.
Thank you….
Sincerely,
Mike
More: Mike’s wife’s writing of her recent memorization/meditation project: Sweet Meditation @ Aimee’s Living, Learning and Loving Simply
Exercises that make the most difference
A.R.T. of Memorizing
Hudson River Landing on 60 minutes
