On such a night as this

It was a long day, full of work which never seems to get signed off—it just perpetuates. There were errands to run, a meeting, and a music rehearsal at church. The seventeen hours I’ve been up and running have drained me. The stress of relationships at work, in the church, in the family, and the longing for love is always simmering inside, too.

But--the Passover full moon has been up over the horizon for a couple of hours. The night sky is so bright with the moon that I can see the jagged rim of the mountains, and the porch lights of homes along the ridge miles away. A bird calls from a nearby tree. I just can’t breathe deeply enough: the citrus groves release intoxicating perfume from waxy white blossoms at the same time that my patio’s lavender wisteria and pink jasmine scent wafts on the gentle breeze. There’s not quite enough wind to stir the chimes, but enough to riffle my hair. My bare feet are crossed on the patio chair across from me.

Mali pounces on a spot in the grass where she can hear a vole or gopher digging under the surface. Abby skitters around under the porch light, chasing a moth. Evie chews on a ball and tosses it hopefully toward my feet. All is quiet in the neighborhood, and I sigh with content--and reluctance that soon I’ll have to lock up the house and go to sleep. It’s almost a shame to be unconscious and miss such a night as this.

On such an evening, I can’t imagine the terror and stress of painting lamb’s blood on the Hebrew doorposts to keep away the threat of death. Nor can I envision leaving my home in the middle of the night to escape a holocaust. I’m grateful for Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross, and that his blood identifies me as his child. The threat of hell has passed over me, and the promise of eternal life in his kingdom has already begun.

I can revel in the spring air, which God has perfumed to delight the senses, and relax in that Sabbath-rest he’s given to us by fulfilling and completing the law, and replacing a written code with the words he speaks to my heart. That rest is knowing that I am safe and secure in God’s hands, both physically and spiritually.

So although I will sleep tonight with the dog lying on the floor nearby, and the windows closed for security, my soul rests in the knowledge that my place in eternity is a done deal. And when I wake, I pray to remember that Jesus' resurrection means that the places in my heart that died of grief and injury will be created anew, like the bare, gray twigs of wisteria burst into giant spikes of spicy sweetness.

There is life after death, and there is life after despair, because Jesus took our infirmities and our rightful punishment, to give us his health and his reward.

God’s home is now among his people! He will live with them, and they will be his people. God himself will be with them. He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever.” And the one sitting on the throne said, “Look, I am making everything new!” Revelation 21:3-5 NLT

For since the world began,

no ear has heard,

and no eye has seen a God like you,

who works for those who wait for him! Isaiah 64:4 NLT

Get a life!

A solitary person, completely alone—no children, no family, no friends—yet working obsessively late into the night, compulsively greedy for more and more, never bothering to ask, “Why am I working like a dog, never having any fun? And who cares?” More smoke. A bad business. Ecclesiastes 4:8 MSG

My time is short—what’s left of my life races off too fast for me to even glimpse the good. Job 9:25 MSG

Hey, I resemble those remarks! I was searching an online concordance on another theme when I found these verses, and they pierced my soul. OK, not enough to leave the office so I’d go home and play with the dog, but enough to make me rethink balancing my life.

My mother used to say that I needed balance, when I was working 60-hour weeks in addition to leading the singles ministry for my state and being a church musician on Saturdays and Sundays. (But I thought Mom was jealous of my time.) My boss told me to find balance. My doctor said that being tired and stressed was preventing weight loss. I’m not so unbalanced that they ganged up on me: these are comments I’ve heard over many years. (And I haven’t learned yet?)

A partial defense is that I earned my Christian high school and university tuition, paid for my own second-rate car, and found employment without the advantage of being the relative or crony of someone “important.” I relish solo vacations. I made my own family-of-choice at work and church. Work is fun, and it’s good fellowship, so I often steal from leisure time to work at home. I love working at church. As a single woman with a mortgage, it’s terribly difficult to say NO to paying work—or to a request from the pastor, who thinks that 1 Corinthians 7:34 means that singles have oodles of time for church projects!

But a weekly rest with God, and making a daily “quiet hour” to commune with Him tends to level the teeter-totter of my life. If someone says, “Get a life,” I can say: “Thank you, but would you like some of my excess?”

[He has given us a spirit] of power and of love and of calm and well-balanced mind and discipline and self-control. 2 Timothy 1:7 AMP