Ask And Ye Shall Receive

I wrote the following this morning while sitting at the edge of Little Grassy Lake.

Just about two miles from my home out in the country, I am sitting atop a frozen log at the water's edge of a quiet lake. It is hard to write in 30 degree weather. But it is peaceful here. I hope to make this a habit--bicycling here as I have done this morning. 

When I arrived there was a man readying his boat for the water. I would have preferred he not have been here. I came for solitude and quiet. 

The cars driving by on the nearby road are also disruptive. And my backside is cold as I sit on the uneven log, my ankles crossed to support the most comfortable position my legs could find. 

But there is beauty all around. The lake is picturesque, the edge crusted with long ice crystals which appear as shards of glass randomly strewn over and under each other, overlaying the clear brown ankle-deep water. Mere feet beyond the icy edge, the sunlit surface shimmers from a gentle breeze I barely feel on my face. Now it is quiet, until a far away bird caws.

Not an hour ago I sat in my warm bed and opened my old ugly red-plastic-coated laptop. Because I am weak and do not trust myself I said a quick prayer: "Father, should I write?"

Had I not asked and listened, I would not have felt the whispered reply, "Go for a bike ride."

My breath catches as I now write this because I am so grateful for His merciful answer. In the past, I would not have asked, knowing that I might receive an inconvenient answer. After all, I wanted to write. Even now I remember hesitating before asking this question. 

Slowly, day by day, even moment by moment, I am learning that if I trust in the Lord and ask of Him, then follow His gentle instruction, I receive far more than what I could have wrought myself. Instead of remaining in my room, I've been blessed to be able to exercise--a habit I'm trying to develop. And the scenery is beautiful. All is still, as if asleep. Except for the geese, slapping the water, now the air, as they take flight against the quiet, their horns piercing the calm.

I use to scoff at nature-types who spoke adoringly of the outdoors. I have always been an indoor-dweller, reading and writing from within the comfort of my four walls, exploring the realm of the mind. Who knew there was so much more out here?

This is my third time visiting this lake since Chris 3.0 (my transformed life). When I came last week I lay with outstretched legs and arms upon the small nearby pier for a long time, floating on the water, eyes taking in the bright blue sky.

My pier at Little Grassy Lake

The world around me expanded and I felt small. I thought of the scripture where Moses said, "Now for this cause I know that man is nothing, which thing I never had supposed." Though my context is different and far less glorious from what Moses beheld, I can nonetheless agree that man is nothing when compared to the glory of God. 

My problems seem to diminish when I come here. It is as though God is saying to me, "Who are you and your so-called big problems? You are but a speck upon my creations. Take a look around and see what I've done. Stop being so self-centered and get with the program--My program--and learn of me. I'll make a whole lot more out of you than you can ever imagine."

And to think, right now I could still be writing from my bed. 


I couldn't resist a return visit this evening.