Springtime in South Texas. Dewdrops of wisdom appear like sparkling blooms of wildflowers popping up in my yard.
If I said that I have had a “Monday”, it probably tells the whole story. Not only was it Monday, but the first work day after the spring time change and “losing an hour” was tough. Saddle that with playing catch-up from what did not get done last week, and the news that the father of one of my best buds had earned his angel wings, and you have a day a little too full of stuff. With a busy mind and a heavy heart, I forged through the day.
I try to let the troubles of the day blow out of my open truck windows, as the smell of the city fades into the aromas of freshly planted corn fields and cattle pastures with new baby calves dancing in the high grass. I tried to scrape the funk off like the mud on my boots on the back porch welcome mat, to no avail. I expended all the energy I had to kiss my wife at the back door (okay, that wasn’t too hard), took care of a few chores and helped with dinner, but the burdens lingered on.
As the evening progressed, the dog needed some “outside time”. As she sniffed every inch, looking for her favorite “spot”, I sat on the front porch steps, trying to clear my mind. My shoulders were heavy and my eyes were downward as if to be bowing my head and I sought God’s comfort. There, directly in my vision, in the pale light of the evening, was a small bluebonnet. Not the fully developed “postcard” version of the brilliant blue South Texas variety, but a new sprout, with a faded color between blue and purple, the “Charlie Brown Christmas Tree” of bluebonnets. It caught my eye, even though surrounded by the brilliant reds of “Indian Paint Brushes”, the bright pinks and purples of different “Phlox” varieties, and the bright white of “thistle flowers”. A well-known verse flooded my mind:
“Consider how the wild flowers grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today, and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, how much more will he clothe you—you of little faith!” Luke 12:26-27
Then a gentle whisper, “I’ve Got This.”
Wow.
Truth.
That’s all. My burden was lifted. I could breathe again.
I spent the rest of the evening enjoying the best things in my life.
Lately, any time I get a heavenly whisper or gentle (or not so gentle) nudge, there is a sense of understanding, a lesson or a story that hopefully makes it to pen and paper and finds its way here. But this time, the whisper was just for me, or so I thought.
In preparing for the Easter season, I was reading about Jesus’ last minutes on the cross.
“Jesus called out with a loud voice, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.” When he had said this, he breathed his last. Luke 23:46
A line repeated from the Psalms.
“Into your hands I commit my spirit; deliver me, Lord, my faithful God.” Psalm 31:5
This Psalm was well known by the children of the time. It is the biblical equivalent to “Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep”, asking the Lord to protect your soul as you sleep.
As Jesus was breathing His last breaths, He spoke from the Psalms in His memory.
“About three in the afternoon Jesus cried out in a loud voice, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” (which means “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”).” Matthew 27:45
That echoed Psalm 22:1. Interestingly enough, it precedes Psalm 23, “The Lord is my shepherd.” Jesus probably recited that Psalm as well.
As Jesus was drawing near to death, He cried out, “Into your hands I commit my spirit.” And as with my burdens (which are certainly of no comparison), God said, “I’ve Got This.” The burden of pain and torture, and the weight of my sin on His shoulders was lifted by His heavenly Father. He breathed His final earthly breath and a new heavenly breath. Hallelujah.
The next time you stop on the roadside, on a South Texas spring afternoon, to take in the beauty of a field, painted with the velvety hue of bluebonnets, consider the least of the flowers. God hand-painted each of them as well. How much more does He care for us?
Take the time to hear Him whisper, “I’ve Got This”.
And Be Blessed in Great Measure.
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