Less is More

Jesus is in the less.

Sure, He's present in the noise and chaos and clutter, too. His words stand just as true in the busy and bustle and go, go, go.

But His loving whisper is only audible to our finite ears in the intentional silence, His light best beheld in the dark places, His purpose better found in dying dreams, His potter-hands best felt in the awareness of our every shattered piece being made whole in His presence.

There are some things you can only learn in the stillness. In the loss. In the stripping away of every distraction--both the good and the unnecessary--until all our eyes can stand to focus in on is the all-consuming process of Grace making us whole.

There are some things you can only learn in the stillness.

It's in the counting every breath and blessing where the spinning stops.

The waves crashing over me become waves crashing around me. The rain beating down on me becomes welcomed nourishment to the thirsty, growing land of my heart. The wind holds within its breath a wonderfully peculiar whisper of Heaven, replacing what my feelings define as "distance" with a very real and very true "I have never left you."

My heart responds to His closeness like never before in this place.

And I realize: I am not shaken. He is with me.

The Creator of everything good and bright and lovely hems me in, behind and before.

He's the Beginning. He's the Ending. And He's right smack-dab in the middle of my struggle to get to the next breath.

He feels the ache, too. I am not alone in this. (You are not alone in this.)

And I realize: I am not shaken. He is with me.

The Way-Maker steps in and fights for me.

He is the steady Rock beneath my feet, unmoved by the currents that send me, in all my imperfect humanness, reeling and quaking and wondering all sorts of "What if?"

He is the breathtaking color that meets my weary gaze when I venture into the wonder awaiting me in the joys of His creation and nature.

He is the quiet, sure thought running through my soul as I drift to sleep: "You made it. You're still breathing. I'm proud of you. I love you. New mercies from my hand await you when you wake up."

The Way-Maker steps in and fights for me.

I find myself in a back-to-the-basics season.

It's like that moment at the airport when the bag-checker looks at you and quips, "Your suitcase is past the weight limit, Miss. It's too heavy." And you stand there staring for two seconds too long as you wonder, "Okay. Shoot. What do I really need, and what can I toss?"

Back to the basics.

Sometimes...most times...okay, 9.99 times out of 10...less is more.

It's time to toss the excess and get rid of the clutter drowning out our awareness of holy wonder and righteous freedom in the stillness.

That's where deep healing happens and where the miracle of Grace and the reality of our broken collide--in the stillness. In the silence. In the simplicity. In the less.

It's time to leave out that which pins us to the ground--worry, doubt, fear, comparison, disappointment, reliving the past--and focus in on what matters (Jesus) and watch in awe as we begin to take flight.

It's time to toss the excess and get rid of the clutter drowning out our awareness of holy wonder and righteous freedom in the stillness.

In the less. In the loss. In the "I didn't know how this would turn out, but this certainly wasn't it!" In the winter seasons when you have yet to see the fruits of your gutsy, exhausting, courageous labor. In those complicated pre-harvest days...months...years...

Know that here--right here--is a GIFT.

(And I only dare use such a word to describe this hell because I trust a God who redeems ALL things. Beauty from ashes, right?)

I'm not shouting praises from a mountaintop (though I hope for the day.) I'm worshipping from a deep and unexpected valley, and most times, it doesn't sound like a shout or even begin to resemble that which is fun, easy, comfortable, or beautiful.

This, ahem, gift, fits under its own unique category of messy, complicated, painful, and unwanted.

It's my knees meeting the ground on late, late nights and staying there for an unknown amount of time. It's sitting in the back of a praise service, crying my eyes out as I accept the lyrics of hope over a seemingly hopeless season. It's starting and ending every day with an open Bible with an honest and humble, "God, I don't understand this. But with everything I am and through everything I'm experiencing and in everything to come, I trust you."

And amazingly, ironically, and supernaturally, it's in this broken place where whispers of revival, renewal, restoration, and renovation break through every one of my unknowns and spread Hope and Healing like wildfire.

My story's not finished yet. (And neither is yours.)

Jesus is here. Even when I don't see it, He's working ALL things for my good and His glory.

Whispers of revival, renewal, restoration, and renovation break through every one of my unknowns and spread Hope and Healing like wildfire.

Back to the basics.

My season of "less" has paved the way for more.

More Grace. More Hope. More Healing. More Rest. More Faith. More Compassion. More Humility. More Strength. More Love. More Growth. More Gratitude. More Wisdom. More Wonder. More Patience. More Peace. More Joy. More JESUS.

The stripping away of what I thought I wanted cleared the way for what He knows I needed--more and more and more of Him.

Surrendering what's good to make room for His best--it stings a little bit (Okay, I hear you. A LOTTA bit) but my goodness is it worth it!

Surrender what's good to make room for His best.

So, yes. Sometimes less IS more. And sometimes God allows loss for a season that we may have the joy of knowing Him fully and freely, void of all distractions and self-serving agendas, in the stillness.

Sometimes God allows loss for a season that we may have the joy of knowing Him fully and freely, void of all distractions and self-serving agendas, in the stillness.

Winter won't last forever.

Less is paving the way for more.

The real question is, how will we choose to live and learn and love here, in the middle of it all?