The world seemed crystal clear with its bright blue sky and puffy, white, cumulous clouds. It felt like I wore new prescription glasses, but of course, I didn’t. My neighborhood was quiet; not even a dog barked. I didn’t hear traffic noises. Butterflies flitted over the yards and fields, the monarchs, especially regal and distinct. Insects buzzed. Birds tweeted and called out. The crisp air warded off the heat of my exercise as I took my morning walk.
“How beautiful is this day,” I thought, a spring joining my step.
“Do you see how all creation is busy about their business, not worried about the future and what next step they should take?” My thoughts zeroed in on a heart issue.
Perhaps, rather than fret about sticking to a day’s agenda, as I seem to always do, I should take a different approach. Why get all stressed about not accomplishing as much as I wished? The butterflies, birds—and caterpillars, especially this fat, orange one I saw moseying across the road—weren’t all stressed out about life. They lived intent on what God asked of them in that moment.
“Ask Me what’s next instead,” the Lord said to my heart.
What a novel idea!
So, I think I will try that. I want to ask, “What’s next?” rather than stay enslaved to this endless task list. Feeling defeated and less than because I didn’t stuff as much into the allotted time sucks all the joy out of life.
Of course, my task-oriented personality which finds satisfaction in how much I accomplished that day may resist; but then again, maybe the freedom to just do what God expects of me for the moment rather than what I expect for the day might bring more blessings that outweigh anything else? What do you think?
“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life . . .” (Matthew 6:25) sang in my soul as I wrote this.
Huh. What if we all just gave our day to Jesus? What discoveries await us?
It’s something to consider anyway. How have you given yourself permission to live in the moment rather than in the rush?