Whistles

One thing I ask of the Lord, this is what I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord and to seek him in his temple.
~ Psalm 27:4

I am very thankful for productive afternoons like this one. After finding out that my Dad wasn't going to make it into town for Behold the Lamb, I decided to tackle one of my pending projects. My son Matthew and I spent an hour or two cleaning out the playroom.

He was quite the good helper. After some supervision on my part, and some handy suggestions on his, we managed to get the place looking really good. Books are all arranged, toys have found their rightful place, and a lot of the things the kids don't play with anymore have been tucked into plastic bags to give away.

There is still plenty I could work on tonight, as Mark is out playing cards. I've got some Christmas wrapping that needs my attention . . . and well, you get the idea. But instead, I think I will sit in front of the fire and relax a bit. My head spins and my heart aches from tormenting thoughts of the day - all of which hang on this one question.

"Why?"

Ever been there? A silent prayer sent up, hoping that God will give some kind of indication as to why. I speak not of some uncomfortable position where somebody has done me wrong. This is not about a tragedy of some kind, as I try to reconcile a loving God with the pain of this world. This "why" is more about reasons . . . what are my reasons? The painful reality is that I don't even know anymore.

I find myself being a person of heart and conviction. What I pour myself into needs to matter - it needs to line up with the core of my beliefs and who I am. Is the mystery due to some kind of disobedience on my part? Have I heard the voice of God, but ignored it because it was too hard to hear?

As much as I like being productive, and giving off the air of making some kind of a difference, the truth is - I just want to be with Him. No bells, no whistles, no complicated game plans . . .

This empty night, I long to dwell in the house of the Lord - to simply gaze upon His beauty . . . with nothing added, nothing taken away . . . a place where the whys of this life will finally cease.