There’s a pattern in my life that swivels and often bends around seven year increments. Awareness dawned during a Beth Moore bible study which encouraged the reader to mark and map out your life in increments. When I did this I realized there was a distinct pattern.
Every seven years some rather significant things occur.
Guess what? This seems to be a seventh year.
It’s the middle of May and I am just now recognizing this pattern. You would think I would recognize it immediately now, but no. No, Tamera fails to see until she is situated right in the middle and wondering why in the world she is so dizzy.
The last major changes happened in 2007. The changes of that year rippled far and wide and deep. In 2007 I got divorced, my second daughter moved out of the house, got a third dog, started walking three miles a day six days a week, broke my ankle and wrist resulting in surgery and I missed six weeks of work.
My perspective changed.
Ephesians tells us God will do immeasurably more than we ask or imagine; Paul wasn’t kidding or exaggerating. Paul was and is speaking the truth.
In the course of the events and circumstances of 2007 God forever changed my perspective. He changed my angle and viewpoint. The circumstances shifted me. Staggered me. But Almighty God shifted my balance and kept me from falling too many times to count or recall.
My balance has been off all year. I couldn’t seem to steady myself in place—like a child standing on one leg too long. My Bible study time fell off into oblivion. Deep reading disappeared. Reading and studying long passages of Scripture dropped away into nothingness. Winter suffocated me and left me with a claustrophobia I hadn’t experienced in years. Spiritually I lived out of my pantry and the shelves were depleted. What remained was edible, but as a friend suggested there wasn’t anything that could be put together to create a real meal. I seemed to be the stereotypical camper eating pork and beans right out of the can with a plastic spoon. Focus seemed futile. Spiritually I was a quintessential case of ADD. The only thing that remained consistent and steady and solid and fruitful was prayer.
In recent weeks as the earth has rotated and shifted its axis in Kentucky’s favor I have felt a shift in me. As the sap rose in the trees and buds formed and leaves and grass greened I wakened. I came slowly out of a long slumber—wakened out of a hundred years of Sleeping Beauty sleep, but I certainly didn’t feel like any Beauty; I only felt the prick of the spindle.
My perspective needs some adjustments. My viewpoint needs to be pivoted. My angle needs to be shifted.
Every morning now I put on my walking shoes and Henry (that third dog I mentioned) and I go out for a walk. We haven’t hit three miles yet, but we have done one and a half. I sit behind the wheel of a new vehicle (A Mother’s Day gift of sorts)—it’s higher off the road and completely changes my perspective.
|Walking with Henry|
During these walks behind and beside Henry I am praying differently. I pray for myself which I realize I rarely ever do. And when I drive I am looking at the road from a different angle and while I do I am making a spiritual grocery list for my pantry. I love Old Mother Hubbard, but I want the pantry full again.
This is the seventh year.
And He will do more than I ask or imagine. Immeasurably more.