Nourishing Soil

It’s 6:30 in the morning. I sit under my open window where a gentle breeze creeps in and surprises me with its coolness and soothes me with the familiar noises it carries. The chattering of a multitude of birds (where do they nest in this treeless city?), the brisk sweeping of the street cleaners’ brooms, the occasional deep calling of a train’s horn: all these noises are familiar, are comfortable.

Time for me. My me time relaxes my spirit and fills me up so I can share my peace with others. Not just peace I share with my sensitive teen-aged students, but recently a friend has been having difficulties and needs my support.

I’ve just read Isaiah 61 and phrases pop out at me, arresting me with their promise.

“The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me, because the Lord has anointed me...”
Many times I feel anointed, like God specially pointed at me and commanded, “You, Elaine, go to Bangladesh!” Why else would I randomly work in this hurting, frustrating country?

“He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted...” My discussions with hurting friends and class devotionals with students spring to mind.

“To comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve…to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair...” Am I allowing God to work through me, to truly help those surrounding me? Could it be as simple as the chats I have with hurting friends over coffee?

“For as the soil makes the sprout come up and a garden causes seeds to grow, so the Sovereign Lord will make righteousness and praise spring up.” My me time is over now and hectic life awaits, but this tiny slice of the morning with just me, God, and my old Bible feel like the soil nourishing the sprout. Now if I can just share this with my friend.