Into the Fire

I have to credit Mick Silva (yourwritersgroup.com) for spawning this post after reading his “Without Love . . .”. He concluded his entry with a demonstration of love from his 3 year old daughter. Sounds like it blew him away. Kids can do that to you. Precious things you believe are scripted by the hand of God. Gifts to our more human moments which require so much of us day in and day out—the gift of love given without expectations of anything in return. True love. Real love. Simple love. For the moment.

He wrote, “The simpler, purer, less complicated values of the little people.” The faith of a child . . .

It’s funny how saying you have a simple mind gives off a negative connotation. Although my husband might argue that my thought processes and resulting lingo are as convoluted as a swarm of untended blackberry bushes (people in the Northwest will appreciate that imagery), I really do have a simple mind. A single mind. I am not a terrific mental multi-tasker. It’s total focus on one thing at a time. Devoted to it, regardless of its value. Things become shrunk down to that one solitary sight holder. That’s it. That’s what I’m geared to, the way I’m wired. And although it can cause problems once in awhile, I’m grateful for it. It makes the passion flow singularly. So, if having a simple mind is a negative perception for some, I guess that’s the way it is.

Focus for a single, simple purpose. Simple in this sense is not demeaning. That simple purpose of the Cross, of writing the account of the journey to Calvary, before and beyond . . . certainly not easy, in fact, indescribably difficult to accomplish, but nevertheless simple and singular in focus and purpose. Isn’t that where we need to keep our heads? Yes, there are multiple interferences, both useless and horrendous, the trials of this life, the troubles we all will share. “But take courage, I have overcome the world.” Hallelujah!

Sorrow, tragedy, abuse, murder, all scream of horrors faced daily by some. Not to be ignored or degraded. The only choice for rescue is the hope, the love, the arms of Jesus. He feels it, knows the pain, sees it in all its sordid ugliness, can attest to the hatred. All of it. He weeps with us. He prays and intercedes for us. He is the Savior.

I apologize for the randomness of this post—good grief, that’s so not like me. I’m simple, really. Sequential even. For the most part.

Father, help me keep things simple when it comes to the tasks you have for me. Help me to stay steady and steadfast on your path. Not turning to the right or to the left. Help me to do it your way, whatever it is. Help me to stay focused on the things you have for me in prayer, in practicality, in purpose. I need your simple beauty, your focus. Help me, in the Name of Jesus, Amen.