“do not let your adorning be the external--the braiding of hair and the putting on of gold jewelry, or the clothing you wear, but let your adorning be the hidden person of the heart with the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which in God’s sight is very precious”--1 peter 3:3-4
i was always one who had somewhat “excessive energy” and pleaded with God to grow me in that quiet and gentle spirit peter wrote about. but, it never really came; at least not in my own self evaluation. now i sit here, approximately 4 days before i head back to the states, and the meaning of “quite and gentle spirit” has drastically changed. a friend, once trying to encourage me said “it doesn’t say quiet mouth!” :)
so, i sit here, about to leave my african residence of 3+ months and feel compelled in my spirit, my heart, to interpret it this way: a quiet trust, that no matter what circumstance, situation, trials, that God’s hand is upon it. better is trial and fiery circumstance with God’s hand upon it than prosperous times with His hand far away. it’s the trust that quietens the spirit. it’s the unwavering devotion, despite circumstance, that brings gentleness. the past 3+ months were not at all what i had envisioned, what i thought they would look like, feel like. God had different plans, and His are far greater. i have learned much more, i know, than if it had been as i planned it.
as i prepared to come here, the months leading up to this, i began really accepting the temporariness of life, and more recently, the passing vapor that it really is, in the scheme of the universe, of all eternity. but, over the past few months, through a ugly bought with malaria, the very real possibility i was going to lose my right lower arm due to a puff adder (viper) bite, and having my only retreat, only confidence, only refuge of conversation be with the Lord, it became all the more solidified that “it doesn’t matter”. i remember, the night my arm was bad, bad, bad, bad: hand swollen almost like a boxing glove, forearm swollen, all red, red, red, and beginning to turn blueish/blackish around the bite--and that was spreading, feeling so much pain, it seemed as if every bone in my hand was broken, praying, praying, praying for relief, but acknowledging in the most sincere peace, that if He wants to take it (my lower arm), that i was okay with that, i knew i would get it back one day anyway. and i was peaceful about it. i even kind of laughed at all the times i said i wished i was ambidextrous. i was at peace, keeping my lower right arm or not, it didn’t matter--in the whole picture of life, creation, it didn’t matter. the years i dwell on this earth, are but passing moments compared to eternity. i also think about all the women i see here. sick, single, dying, children soon to be orphans. and i think about the frivolous worries i had before. there are so many things i want to say to the Lord when i stand before Him, well, there were, but none of them were ever “why did You...” or “why didn’t You...” because it doesn’t matter. death is but the means in which we can finally be united in His perfect Kingdom, and living this life with both arms, children, family, “nice” things, comfort, etc really doesn’t matter then, it all becomes vapor too. i think about these women, their fear, the one that asked me if i was going to die, and my answer of “absolutely” wanting to be sympathetic to her, but also offer counsel in a way that showed her, told her, that death is “absent with the body is present with the Lord”--that there is no fear in death! (there is a previous post about this encounter...not sure which one it is...think it’s the one about the home visits :) ). by the same measure of wanting her to know that there is no fear in death, we must also realize that there is no fear in our living--a life that does not look like what we thought and/or wanted. i believe that is a big difference between them and us (us=americans), they fear dying, we fear living a life that is not like what we wanted or planned or hoped for.
i think about those who are so important in my life, the feeding into each other’s lives, and how much joy it brings me to see them receive blessings. how i’d rather see them blessed tremendously than be blessed myself. how i’d rather see them brought peace even if it means my turmoil, hurt or pain. there is far greater joy and privilege for me to see them in such joy, receiving blessings, than for me to receive any direct blessings myself. my joy is in seeing them blessed and with peace. the suffering here, that is evident when i have done home visits, further only drives home that nothing really matters, but what happens after we draw our final breath. what we do for the Kingdom, for lost and/or suffering souls, that is what matters. our legacy, our story is not about what filled our houses, and what those houses looked like, or if we had a wedding band and children, etc. it only matters how we reached out, how we fought for those whose names were/are not written in the same book as ours. it only matters how we served, sacrificed, and trusted.
i think about what peace and rest mean: complete trust in Him. i think about how that surely brings so much beauty that peter, and even solomon wrote of--the countenance of calm rest and trust, that offers more beauty than any size, shape face, nose, eyes, skin tone, etc.
i think about what we fill ourselves with, how we handle trials, turmoil, pain, hurt, etc. and i think--none of that really matters. i think about what real need is, what real pain is, what real fear is, and i’ve seen it: here. i think of the more we try to fill our lives with things and statuses that do not matter, the more we fill ourselves with temporal things, that our facade of joy rest on--what happens when they are gone? we must let our joy rest only on Him, our peace be only in Him. if our joy and peace rest on anything else, they are shakable, and will crumble at the slightest jolt. to fill ourselves with only a trust in Him, a love of and for Him and His will, that will surely fill us with the quietest, sweetest trust, and how truly beautiful is that?! i see beautiful women here--far more beautiful than i’ve seen before. through sickness, death, abandonment, poverty, they do have a peace. the ones with that peace, that quiet trust, surely outshine us all who have no want.
“for a cup brimful of sweet water cannot spill even one drop of bitter water, however suddenly jolted”--amy carmichael
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