Portrait of Expectency

It’s been building for weeks. What is God going to do? What is He saying to me? My heart can become fretful and distracted.

Just before Christmas with my thoughts a jumble of shopping lists and gift ideas, I passed the lake nearby and my eye caught a great blue heron standing in the shallow (and not yet frozen) water by the rocks. He struck a perfect silhouette with his long beak stretched forward. He was ready to pounce, yet standing in perfect stillness against the colors of the lake and sky.

It was such a beautiful sight I turned the car around and stopped, then walked out to a better vantage point to admire him. Wow, what a portrait of expectancy! Oh Lord, I want to stand like that.

Poised and upheld in grace.
Watchful, but trusting.
Perched in readiness, but anxious for nothing.

Yes, Lord, a portrait of expectancy and readiness, but a quiet voice of serenity and wisdom seeped through.

I never did get his picture. As I neared with camera in hand, he spread his great wings and flew along the tree line, apparently intent on fishing in solitude. But I decided in that moment, I want to stand like that—unruffled and resting, knowing the all-sufficient grace. It is enough.

“Come and see the works of the Lord,” the Psalmist declared. “Be still and know that I am God…. I will be exalted in the earth... The LORD Almighty is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress.” (from Psalm 46)

And again, David wrote in the Desert of Judah [which means praise], "Because you are my help, I sing in the shadow of your wings. My soul clings to you;  your right hand upholds me." (Psalm 63:7-8)