Rut, Rot or Revival 5

Rote.

Rut.

Rot.

Revival.

I am really looking forward to Friday. It is supposed to be sunny and 73 degrees on Signal Mountain. Lea and I will spend the day in our garden. We are gathering our simple supplies. Our year of pandemic compost is steeped and ready. We'll mix in some cow manure and a dash of vermiculite, splash in the early lettuce and cover with wood chips, water, admire and wait. All while soaking in the Friday sun. I really savor this day with Lea each year. We are novice gardeners. Story Cottage in Knoxville was our genesis for gardening. We have had kind guidance along the way. Our harvest is small in scope, massive in delight.

The winter months are beginning to give way. And it points us. This is what AW Tozer is speaking about . He is saying that our spiritual lives and connection with church can just be a robotic rut that we mindlessly repeat week after week. Those weeks mount into years and non-expectation takes over. There is no expectation of the work and adoration and movement of God in our midst. And we numbly rot away, caved in on ourselves, hoping that Netflix will somehow provide a little jolt now and then.

But there is more.

Here is AW's thought.

"There is such a thing as a renaissance, a personal revival. The best illustration is the coming of the springtime on the farm. The snow will lay all winter long and in some places you don't see the ground until spring time. How utterly dead everything looks, but you know that life is still there. The trees are stark, but there is life in them. The roots in the ground are all quiet, but there is life down there. Just below the frost line are the worms, the bugs, the mice, the moles and the chipmunks. They are all there and there is life down there. They are all waiting for something, listening for mother nature to say, 'Stir up the gift of God, which is in thee.' Then comes the spring; the snow goes, and the blotches and patches begin to appear. The bobwhites begin to whistle their happy but monotonous song on the sunny side of the hill. The cattle begin to kick up their heels and run about the fields. That is spring. Pretty soon all the snow is gone, calves are born and lambs are about, and we start all over. Thank God, it is all new. There is such a thing in the Christian life as going under for a winter. In other words, something happens to you, little by little, until you get snowed under and frozen over. There is life down there, covered up by the frost and ice. It may be hidden; it is there somewhere. It is possible for us to go through spiritual experiences that can arouse us, the spiritual equivalent of a springtime in the meadow. I have seen it happen, and I would like to see it happen today."

God is the Arouser.

God IS life.

He sees it.

He knows it.

He supplies it.

He can blow His breath on frozen dead and seemingly dead hearts and thaw to hot flames.

Hearts burning that were moments ago icy and numb cold.

Because He can.

For His own pleasure.

There are plenty to pick from Holy One.

Please Lord, me.

Please Lord, me.

Spirit compost, mix in me.

Thaw me.

Breathe on me.

Ember me Arouser.

You are Reviver.

In the coming weeks, I will be combing through the 240 posts of BuyTheField to remind my own soul of each time I've specifically written about the thawing words of God's reviving. I look forward to the warm, Friday sun in the garden with Lea. I look forward to the next weeks of the reviving themes of God with you.

Ember me Arouser.

There's more.