Photo: The springs at the base of Mount Hermon, which are the source of one of the three streams that combine to form the Jordan River. In the time of Christ this area was known as Caesarea Philippi.
When Jesus arrived in the villages of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, “What are people saying about who the Son of Man is?”
They replied, “Some think he is John the Baptizer, some say Elijah, some Jeremiah or one of the other prophets.”
He pressed them, “And how about you? Who do you say I am?”
I love traveling. Since I have been living out of a suitcase most of the time for the past few months, that’s probably a good thing. Where some people find routine and familiarity most conducive to creativity, I find it stifling. My husband will tell you that I seldom come back the same way I went. I know that good habits free us from the tyranny of having to waste brain-time on detail, and I really am trying to put my keys, shoes and purse in the same place every time, but for me creative ideas first flutter by in my peripheral vision. If I don’t turn my eyes from routine, I could miss them.
Still and all, having said that, there is something about the familiarity of home that is freeing as well. Where else can you sing with full voice in the shower or sit until noon in a ratty bathrobe? There is a certain comfort in being able to step over a newspaper on the floor for three days without worrying about what anybody thinks. Even the job list on the fridge, the one that lists things that never bore a check mark and won’t now because now the season has changed, posts a sort of poetic pleasure.
Clean the fireplace,
Mend grey sweater,
Sand the sidewalk,
Buy new gloves
Tonight, driving home after a picnic with dear folk I haven’t seen in months, the clouds that broke out in sporadic showers all around us finally snagged on the Rockies on their way east. The mountains are beautiful even when they are playing hide-and-seek in the clouds, because I know what they look like. These are my mountains. This is my home.
I woke early and went down to the lake. In the spring, Israel is full of migrating birds who greet the dawn with song. Their singing is like a great chorus in a sky-domed cathedral giving glory to God as the light grows brighter.
My beloved spoke, and said to me: “Rise up, my love, my fair one, And come away. For lo, the winter is past, The rain is over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth; The time of singing has come, And the voice of the turtledove Is heard in our land. The fig tree puts forth her green figs, And the vines with the tender grapes Give a good smell. Rise up, my love, my fair one, And come away!
The apostles then rendezvoused with Jesus and reported on all that they had done and taught. Jesus said, “Come off by yourselves; let’s take a break and get a little rest.” (Mark 6:30)
The past four months have been a powerful, but exhausting time of learning more about how the love and wonder-working power of Jesus is greater than fear, but now I am hearing His advice to take a break, so I’m going off the grid for a while.
We continue to see answers to prayer in so many areas. God is simply amazing.
Charis: Subject to Change 