I’m not much of a jewelry wearer. Though I love the sparkle of diamonds and can seldom walk purposefully past a shop window glittering with gemstones, I’m not dripping in diamonds and most days can be found with the same pair of little studs in my ears. My wedding rings usually stay on. Occasionally I’ll wear a necklace. Almost never a watch.
But I have this bracelet. I wear it most days. It’s not gold or silver. It’s not expensive nor does it glitter. But it is precious to me. Because it carries a simple message that whispers to my heart.
Life is crazy, isn’t it? Do you feel like that sometimes?
You’re in a season of life and it’s full and busy. And we think there’s salvation in the next stage. But each stage has its own crazy and busy. Each is different and yet so much the same.
Don’t misunderstand me. There is so much good in each season too. The crazy and the busy aren’t necessarily bad. Our lives are full of activity and relationship and work and things that challenge us, mold us and shape us.
It’s just that it all happens so fast.
We always seem to find what it takes to get through each stage, even though when we’re in the trenches it’s hard to see the big picture.
And then, just when the big picture comes into view, sometimes life throws you a curveball.
- You lose your job.
- Money is tight.
- You have kids.
- Someone gets sick.
- A diagnosis of some kind.
- Marriage ends.
- A loved one dies.
- Parents age.
- Something happens with the kids.
The curveball looks different to everyone. It rolls in like a tidal wave, sheer size and force and power. And it’s hard not to get swept up in the emotion of it all. It moves quickly. It’s overwhelming.
Four little words that carry with them the reminder that I’m not alone in the midst of the crazy.
The ability to sit in stillness—to find rest and peace and contentment there—is a lost art for most and I am no exception.
In the grocery store line, I whip out my phone to check my Facebook feed or the latest Instagram photos. In the doctor’s office waiting room, I check my email. If I’m waiting in the car for my daughter to come out after school, I can be found scrolling local news sites or reading my ibook. A steady stream of stimulation keeps my mind tossing and turning.
I may tune out the tsunami of my life for a moment or two, but I fill the deafening silence with other clutter.
And so I wear this little reminder.
The words are rooted in scripture.
“God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way, though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam, though the mountains tremble at its swelling.”
Sounds like a curveball doesn’t it? And yet, in the midst of it all—earth moving, mountains trembling, waters roaring—there is the invitation to simply be still.
“Be still, and know that I am God.”
Four little words that remind me to just chill.
Trust that no matter what I’m going through, and no matter which season I’m in, I can know without a doubt that I am loved.
And I will find what I need to get through it.
And I will come out the other side a different person—better, stronger, perhaps more humble, but certainly changed.