The latest word to burrow into my thoughts has been “extricate”, which has provoked the image of the child’s game “Pick-Up-Sticks” . . a tangled stack of pointed spears where the object is to take turns carefully pulling one stick out at a time until the stack wobbles or crashes apart, whereby you lose. It has felt of late like He has been tugging at spears that have embedded themselves deeply into me, some so much so that I can almost hear the sucking sound as they are withdrawn . . . and naturally, it hurts.
One by one, He seems to be taking things from me. Taking until I don’t care as much what’s left. Taking the dear and the puzzlingly inconsequential. Clean sweep, I think, taking it all out into the brilliance of the Sun, which makes it look just a little more shabby and plain and not as compelling as I have held it to be. The Large and the Small.
Thing is, I’m not sure anymore about what to set my heart on. I live here for now, and He set great passion into my heart. Does He really not wish me to aim it anywhere at all? Not where I have, apparently, and I can live with that for the time being. I guess I’m impatient and want to move on, want to see what is next. Want to give again instead of constantly de-cluttering.
It always helps me to look up the full meaning of any word he gives me . . . I’m often stunned at the subtle messages within the delightful unfolding of His little gifted gemstones, His words. This one no less than most . .
Extricate:
1. To free, as from difficulties or perplexities; to disentangle; to disembarrass; as, to extricate a person from debt, peril, etc.
We had now extricated ourselves from the various labyrinths and defiles. --Eustance.
2. To cause to be emitted or evolved; as, to extricate heat or moisture.
Syn: To disentangle; disembarrass; disengage; relieve; evolve; set free; liberate.
. . . to liberate (gas) from combination, as in a chemical process.
Archaic To distinguish from something related.
loose, rescue, deliver, save, recover.
. . to set free . . .
So He disentangles me from those things that have only proven to turn my feet from His Best Will.
THEREFORE THEN, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses [who have borne testimony to the Truth], let us strip off and throw aside every encumbrance (unnecessary weight) and that sin which so readily (deftly and cleverly) clings to and entangles us, and let us run with patient endurance and steady and active persistence the appointed course of the race that is set before us (Hebrews 12:1 Amplified)
To liberate from a combination . . Withdraw an ingredient in a recipe, and it no longer tastes the same. Not necessarily worse . . just different.
The way of the sluggard is overgrown with thorns [it pricks, lacerates, and entangles him], but the way of the righteous is plain and raised like a highway. (Proverbs 15:18-20 Amplified)
Is it really so much a matter of my being lazy, this rubbled landscape of thorns? (though I do admit to a measure of that character flaw, especially the last few years) . . and is it those thorns that have contributed to the wounds and grieving even more than the losses themselves? Do I truly want plain pathways, or do I secretly enjoy the scenery of the mountains and deep valleys and the drama of the constant unknowns around each bend? There is an air of adventure in treading dangerous sidetrails.
. . . to set free . . .
Oh my dear dear Lord . . how often have I felt exactly that, and cherished a hope that it would “stick”, only to find myself enmeshed someplace else, with yet another weight to unravel. I remember the days of overwhelming, continual, crushing guilt, and decided I couldn’t live beneath such a burden anymore. Like a cloak that slides off the shoulders, somehow it lifted, and it’s been wonderful to walk in the weightless sunshine now and then. I cannot be as perfect as you ask, can I? If we are constantly asked to clean our temples, when will there ever be time to watch the sunsets . . or to put wings to the lyrics of poetry . . or wade along the shorelines?
Extricate all you need, Lord. Yank and tug and tussle and muss until I let go. I trust that you will not leave an empty, heartless shell . . . and that whatever you have in mind to re-decorate will be colors I can bear. Not only just stoically endure, but revel with that peculiar joy that few ever truly discover.
One by one, He seems to be taking things from me. Taking until I don’t care as much what’s left. Taking the dear and the puzzlingly inconsequential. Clean sweep, I think, taking it all out into the brilliance of the Sun, which makes it look just a little more shabby and plain and not as compelling as I have held it to be. The Large and the Small.
Thing is, I’m not sure anymore about what to set my heart on. I live here for now, and He set great passion into my heart. Does He really not wish me to aim it anywhere at all? Not where I have, apparently, and I can live with that for the time being. I guess I’m impatient and want to move on, want to see what is next. Want to give again instead of constantly de-cluttering.
It always helps me to look up the full meaning of any word he gives me . . . I’m often stunned at the subtle messages within the delightful unfolding of His little gifted gemstones, His words. This one no less than most . .
Extricate:
1. To free, as from difficulties or perplexities; to disentangle; to disembarrass; as, to extricate a person from debt, peril, etc.
We had now extricated ourselves from the various labyrinths and defiles. --Eustance.
2. To cause to be emitted or evolved; as, to extricate heat or moisture.
Syn: To disentangle; disembarrass; disengage; relieve; evolve; set free; liberate.
. . . to liberate (gas) from combination, as in a chemical process.
Archaic To distinguish from something related.
loose, rescue, deliver, save, recover.
. . to set free . . .
So He disentangles me from those things that have only proven to turn my feet from His Best Will.
THEREFORE THEN, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses [who have borne testimony to the Truth], let us strip off and throw aside every encumbrance (unnecessary weight) and that sin which so readily (deftly and cleverly) clings to and entangles us, and let us run with patient endurance and steady and active persistence the appointed course of the race that is set before us (Hebrews 12:1 Amplified)
To liberate from a combination . . Withdraw an ingredient in a recipe, and it no longer tastes the same. Not necessarily worse . . just different.
The way of the sluggard is overgrown with thorns [it pricks, lacerates, and entangles him], but the way of the righteous is plain and raised like a highway. (Proverbs 15:18-20 Amplified)
Is it really so much a matter of my being lazy, this rubbled landscape of thorns? (though I do admit to a measure of that character flaw, especially the last few years) . . and is it those thorns that have contributed to the wounds and grieving even more than the losses themselves? Do I truly want plain pathways, or do I secretly enjoy the scenery of the mountains and deep valleys and the drama of the constant unknowns around each bend? There is an air of adventure in treading dangerous sidetrails.
. . . to set free . . .
Oh my dear dear Lord . . how often have I felt exactly that, and cherished a hope that it would “stick”, only to find myself enmeshed someplace else, with yet another weight to unravel. I remember the days of overwhelming, continual, crushing guilt, and decided I couldn’t live beneath such a burden anymore. Like a cloak that slides off the shoulders, somehow it lifted, and it’s been wonderful to walk in the weightless sunshine now and then. I cannot be as perfect as you ask, can I? If we are constantly asked to clean our temples, when will there ever be time to watch the sunsets . . or to put wings to the lyrics of poetry . . or wade along the shorelines?
Extricate all you need, Lord. Yank and tug and tussle and muss until I let go. I trust that you will not leave an empty, heartless shell . . . and that whatever you have in mind to re-decorate will be colors I can bear. Not only just stoically endure, but revel with that peculiar joy that few ever truly discover.
