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It never seems to amuse me of the encounters the Father graces me with. The mundane of mowing grass on this blistering 95 degree day, my children running half naked through the yard, listening to an audio book “Teaching from Rest” all the while doesn’t distort how God uses these moments to rock my soul.

I felt just about as restless as I have in quite some time. We are coming off a really hard year and entering into a season of deployment. The whirl wind of the last few weeks has left me on an emotional high and today was starkly sobbering. The fight to get back to routine and discipline and the mountain high to do list to catch up on has left me completely defeated. It all culminated with a slight meltdown of tears behind the lawnmower just before I cranked it up.

How to start. It is the hardest step. The first. The commitment to begin. The reluctance to succumb to the unavoidable circumstance. There have been many first steps the last few days. The first step of loneliness without my companion for nine long months. The first mile of a 14 hour drive alone with three kids. The first almond my 4 year old has ever had. The first night of silence when my children are in bed. The first words of 3 new books. The first step to mowing the grass. Why then, did I bust into tears. Perhaps decision overload. Or emotional weariness. Or maybe the realization that this brokenness and loneliness that I feel is not without the fathering of Holy God. What is this season for? I don’t want to rush, dismiss, or numb myself to what the Holy Spirit is doing. Oh how amiss this season would be if I just commit to survive.

In those first few moments before and at the crank of the mower- all of these jumbled thoughts slapped me in the face and I was overwhelmed with how to process. And in that moment the rush of peace was tangible and oh-so-real. Rest. What is it? How do I do it? Is it even possible? With every step I felt more clarity. Not resolve of circumstance but certainty of the Father loving me, mercifully disciplining me, revealing my selfishness, and ultimately settling the war within myself for those moments.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at the graphic parallel I felt to this train as I mowed the grass, or perhaps I should say sand, under the tattered basketball net. I knew that my disgruntled toddler attempted to put this train where it didn’t belong and now it hung helplessly until I move it. If my life could be a picture, this was it! Displaced, clutching on to foreign circumstance, grasping for anything that keeps me from the desert below, yet tempted to fall prey to the delusion of green below. {Have I mentioned that I a mildly dramatic and often relate to ridiculousness?} But seriously in the middle of my silliness, the reality of me rescuing this train to bring it back to the track it belongs-inside my house, was such a semblance to my heart. The Father, not surprised by where my heart is, continues to scoop me up and lovingly put me back where I belong on the tracks. He will reveal and show me peaceful rest in this season. He will protect my heart from the climate elements of resentfulness, bitterness, joylessness, hopelessness, or restlessness in this season. Staying grounded on the tracks of intimacy & intentionally with Him during this season WILL produce what scripture says- love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness and self control. Not a perfection of these but a habit of these because I am being TRANSFORMED by His word. His Holy Spirit is convicting me of my sin and convincing me of my righteousness in Jesus which produces right and pure worship.