I’m a permissional person…to a fault. Don’t want to step on any one’s toes etc. (Although there are those who believe I ALWAYS speak my mind with or without permission. So few really know us, huh?) The exception for me (from my view) is when I know the Lord has sent me on an assignment, then, as the songs goes, “There ain’t no mountain high enough….” nor “Permission NOT Granted” loud enough to zip my lip nor slow my flow.

Sometimes permission comes in unexpected ways. For me, this particular permission to almost not be came to me by, literally, not being able to do. Even the flame within to do has flickered, giving way to the utter “you cannot not” because there is no fuel for the doing.

And the season came in a time of many rich blessings and many fresh ideas regarding the remainder of my life; what will become my history. Obviously not a bad season; just one not recognized as soon as I’m sure He had wished. There were warning signs, but they are oft more clearly seen in hindsight. Nevertheless, the Lord interrupted with His giant Pause button.

The word “dormant” came to me, so, of course I looked it up. The definition that called to me: temporarily quiescent. What’s quiescent? Tranquilly at rest. Not a forever thing. He’s impressing on me the temporarily is meant to be practice time so the temporary becomes permanent; the norm.

I have the sense of being in Spiritual ICU (where my permission was SO not an issue with Him). My cubicle is posted with a “Check in with the Dr. before entering to visit.” Some encounters may be just what the Dr. ordered, like a handful of people who nourish with their presence – even if they enter to be encouraged. Curiously, some outings are Dr. Approved and energizing; like our Thanksgiving gathering; even going out and about on occasion. But still I have to check in with Him rather than trusting the mountain of “Shoulds” that remain within me. His Word promises to “level every mountain…”. And perhaps He is at work leveling this particular mountain so that He can readily “lift up every valley”; all that is pressed down and unfulfilled within me.

Bill Billheimer’s old book “Don’t Waste Your Sorrows” wisely cautions that there is much; and I add, “there is mulch”; in our sorrows, if we will let the sorrow sift down and lubricate our soul’s dry places with our tears. But neither our Father, nor Bill, for that matter, recommends remaining overly long in our grief, beyond fully experiencing it. Psalm 84 offers us a marvelous SO THAT to going through our times of mourning: SO THAT we may again go from strength to strength:
Blessed is the man or woman whose strength is in You.
Whose heart is set on pilgrimage.
As they pass through the Valley of Baca/Weeping
They make it a spring (with their tears; honest grieving)
The rain (the rain and the reign of the Holy Spirit)
also covers the earth (of their souls)
The pilgrims go from strength to STRENGTH.
Ps. 84:5-7a NASB (added thoughts in parentheses)
There is a season for everything…and sometimes the season is just a time to be re-seasoned; to soak in what was, to be prepared for what will be…or even to let go of what was, to become free for what will be.

May we all recognize our seasons; taste them; embrace them; and not waste them. And may we be very aware that, as His sheep, He leads us INDIVIDALLY according to our needs and His plans. We are not just one of the herd, but lovingly belong to the One Who has heard and will always hear our every bleat. Though at times, His responses seem distant and mute; His responses are never moot (an irrelevant argument).

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart…and He WILL direct your path.”
From Proverbs 3:5-6