Teshuvah/Repentence

11Not that I speak from want, for I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances I am. 12I know how to get along with humble means, and I also know how to live in prosperity; in any and every circumstance I have learned the secret of being filled and going hungry, both of having abundance and suffering need. 13I can do all things through Him who strengthens me. (Phil 4: 11-13)

I find myself being hopeful for things to change. Desiring this change so much that all of my effort goes into either making it happen, or dreaming and planning things out for when it does happen. I lose myself in my desires. But it’s not really “losing myself” it’s really feeding my “self” and letting my “self” run wildly into my desires like an undisciplined child in a toy store. I run off course. I lay down the cross. I miss the mark. I stop denying myself. Every thought is not taken captive. Once again I let the “self” part of me, that I am supposed to be denying, take over, run my life, my thoughts, actions and desires, and I then find myself in sin. Which brings me to repentance, Teshuvah…returning.

We are renting this beautiful house in town. We’ve been living here for a year and a half. It’s lovely, it really is. But this is not my home. We had a home; a little 900 sq ft house in the middle of 2.5 acres. I was growing herbs and vegetables in my garden. We had fruit trees and flowers. It was our little homestead. We had plans to build a new house on the property followed by a barn and a smokehouse. We were going to raise goats and chickens. This had been my dream since I was young growing up on my grandmother’s farm. Nothing about the farm life scared me. Not even the chickens running around with their heads chopped off. All of my milking cows had names, like Bert and Ernie, Suzie, Roxann, John and Monica (my name as well as my parents names). I loved the fresh cream in the morning. Grandma would bring in the milk bucket and set it on the table. She’d pour my oatmeal into my bowl and scoop out enough of the fresh warm milk to top the oats. I’ll never forget that taste. Or the tractor rides down the long driveway with the trailer filled with those old metal milk jugs. We would go out to collect sap in the spring and fill those milk jugs to the brim with sap. Grandpa would spend days out in the cold cooking down the sap. He’d drink a little too much whiskey during the day, and it never failed. That last batch of sap would burn. He’d throw it into the snow where it would instantly harden. His mistake became something I looked forward to. Maple syrup candy. It was a little bitter from being overcooked, but sweet nonetheless. I loved that farm. My most vivid memories from my childhood are from that farm. The old wood cook stove in the kitchen, where Prudence the cat would warm herself, and where the family gathered around, was where family history was told and memories were made. This became my dream and to this day my dream has not changed. That little house in the field that my husband I had was going to be our little farm, until the roof collapsed. Having very little money we had to move. Now, here we are, in the city, across from a noisy baseball field. I try to make the best of it. It’s nice. It’s lovely. But, it’s not home.

That’s what brings us to the falling away because of my desires and the eventual “return”. Our six month lease was coming up and we were faced with a few choices, stay or find another place. We chose to find another place, which sent us on a tailspin adventure for the past month of looking at houses to purchase. It was right before this that we were really delving into the Word, searching scripture night and day and learning so much. Then the house buying adventure came, and with it all of my desires shifted from God to “things”. A month later, it seems our search was all in vain, and I find myself feeling rather empty. I left my bible in the car the other day, and it’s still there. My writing has ceased. I can’t even find my notebooks and pens. When was the last time I was in my prayer closet? All of these desires took over, and my content feelings went right out the window.

So, Paul, how did you do it? How did you remain content in every circumstance? How can I put my hopes and dreams and desires aside? Or at least how can I be content in knowing my dreams and not living them? Father did you give me these desires to farm and live off the land? I do believe they are from you. If they are from you, wouldn’t you make a way for them to become reality? Is this a part of it all? Learning to be content in any situation? Learning the secret to allowing Your strength in my own life?

Which brings us to teshuvah…the return, repentance. I’ve left our housing situation be. We are where we are. I don’t understand why, but here we are. My little house on the prairie dreams are put back on the shelf where they will gather dust. I am here, returning from whence I came. Back to the Father and to HIS heart. Ultimately I want His will to be done in my life, even if I get off track and try to find my own will. I will return to Him and He is there waiting for me. That is the most amazing thing. Will He ever tire of my wayward ways? He didn’t give up on the Israelites even though they were a “stiff necked people”. I am stiff necked. I am stubborn and rebellious. But my heart is for the Father, and to the Father I will return.

The word teshuvah gives me hope. Teshuvah means to return, which means that you were there once, you turned away and now you are turning back from whence you came. I didn’t fall away or backslide into my depraved ways. I just stopped praying like I used to, stopped reading my bible like I used to, and stopped looking for God in everything. I stopped seeking His kingdom and started looking for my own. One month later, I am on the return flight. This is my teshuvah.