Monday, February 15, 2016

Monday, February 15, 2016

Isaiah 40:3-5

A voice cries out:
‘In the wilderness prepare the way of the
 Lord,
   make straight in the desert a highway for our God.
 
Every valley shall be lifted up,
   and every mountain and hill be made low;
the uneven ground shall become level,
   and the rough places a plain.
 
Then the glory of the
 Lord shall be revealed,
   and all people shall see it together,
   for the mouth of the
 Lord has spoken.’ 

A way in the wilderness

My heart seems a wilderness, O Lord. I cannot find or make a straight path there. Nor can I fill in the valleys of melancholy into which I sometimes fall.

I long for the hills, the high places where my heart touches the cobalt sky, where I know the Love you are and know it in me, for me, flowing through me … and everything, everywhere.

I know your glory then, the glory of a Love at the heart of all things … and me. Nothing, absolutely nothing else matters then, for I know: all is well and held in the Love you are that will bring us all home.

But then, knowing your Love … I am home already.

I don’t want to plow down the heights of the hills and make them a plain. That’s where I see who I am, who you are and learn to recognize you in the hearts and eyes of others in the hills and valleys of living.

Your command to make a straight path, a smooth place runs contrary to everything about the human heart. There is seldom anything straightforward about why we do what we do. A twisting mystery of intention and apparent chance brings us to our current places and directs our futures. And life is never smooth for long.

So maybe you mean we need to prepare a way for you to come to us … or prepare ourselves to see and know you when you appear.

Maybe we are to stir our hope when we are in the valleys, and get off our high horses of ego and pride when too self-important, so that our hearts are clear and open to receive you who are ever present and loving, eager for us to know the Love that turns our souls into fountains of life, as you just have for me … again.

Your way is made straight at the tip of these fingers.


Pr. David L. Miller