“They found rich, good pasture, and the land was spacious,
peaceful and quiet.” (1 Chronicles 4:40 NLT)
The tribe of Simeon had finally found a place to settle down. They’d come to the end of their long journey and they were rewarded with good land.
Sarah said it on our evening walk. “Maybe life would be easier in Texas.” It’s startling how my almost fifteen-year-old will spill her guts when get out of the house and away from the screens. We’ve been walking each night since April and in the incubator of spring and summer, our emotional connection has strengthened. “Maybe.” I said. But Texas isn’t really the Promised Land I’m looking for. Easier, perhaps. It sounds like a nice change of pace, but comfort can’t be our primary agenda.
I don’t know how to explain it to her, I guess because I am still learning it myself. The lesson is solidifying in my soul. The Promised Land isn’t a place. It’s not Texas or Iowa or some state in between. We aren’t panting after a position, but a Person. The presence of the Living God is our Promised Land and anything less is just a patch of earth.
I’m coming to the realization slowly, like so often the Spirit of God leads His precious children; carefully, as not to add insult to injury. He knows I’m already wounded. I’m embarrassed before Him. I’ve wasted so much time in recent months. I’ve put a tremendous amount of energy in trying to put the pieces together, to figure out a path forward and into the hopes of handing it over to God for approval. It’s ridiculous when I type it out for the world to see, but true nonetheless. God’s given me the gift of these months of stillness on purpose and I’ve frittered them away with fretting.
Today, He’s changing my perspective. He hasn’t put me in time out to think about my mistakes. Waiting for Him to move in our story isn’t punishment. Waiting for Him is a privilege. We don’t wait on Him, we wait with Him. Today my heart is filled with His with-ness. I want to focus on Him. Nothing more, nothing less. He’s here, in these hours, with me. And that’s enough.
“You fill me with joy in Your presence.” (Psalm 16: NIV)
The Israelites had to go a good long way before they discover the presence of God was what they truly sought. How far do we have to go before we realize that He is enough? He’s the green pasture that we are looking for. His presence is the place that is spacious, quiet, and peaceful. It’s not about a position or a geographical location. It’s not a nest egg in the bank or a degree on the wall. It’s nor a ring on the finger or a baby in the crib. Our promised land is the intimacy we cultivate with our God the Father: here, now and Forever.
Lord, forgive us for our tendency to fast forward through today. Forgive our endless obsessing toward an imagined better place. Let us embrace the hours we have here and now, with You as good pasture; spacious, peaceful and quiet. You are the Promised Land we are looking for, let that be enough. Give us the grace to set the other stuff aside, confident that Your plan and provision will proceed without our pushing. Amen.