Where fear tempts me to stay home... step out

“control smothers and fear asphyxiates and even now we could trust and nod yes to God's yes of today and now and breath.” – A Holy Experience

Sometimes the hardest thing is to move forward; like a cold, dark winter’s morning where the bed is so soft and warm, and the day seems so long and the floor so darn freezing. Now, where I am, is so comfortable, it’s not perfect but I know it and I can make it work… but you Lord, are inviting me into the unknown, where I don’t see how *I* can possibly make it work. Which, unfortunately, is your point, isn’t it? That it’s not about me making things come together, but becoming willing to let you do it all. How that thought terrifies me, it makes my heart drop, worse than a roller coaster.

I have put up my blankets, tucked and pinned them tight around my space; like my childhood forts, warm and ‘safe’. But you invite me, oh so gently, and with the outstretched hand of my husband beckoning me to step out, to see so much more than the familiar. The flannels are worn and soft… but your wilderness is breathtaking in its beauty, I’ve had glimpses before and the still small voice in my heart cries out to experience it more fully. Is it worth it to choose what I know so well because I fear where He might take me?... No, even with my trembling heart I must follow Him, even if He may mislead me (impossible as that is), He is my heart, He is my life and life without following His voice is darkness to me.

Breathe deep dear heart… and nod, whisper, “yes”.

Learning to Trust in the 'Drops'

(I apologize for the lateness of this post, lately I’ve been having a hard time keeping my head straight. :-P Thank you for your patience ^_^)

In case you haven’t noticed yet, I’m a rather big fan of Disneyland. Some of my favorite family memories and memories with my husband were made there and there is just something magical about those few square miles. When I was quite little (3 & 4 years old) we went to Disneyland, my memories are quite vague but I know that I went on Pirates of the Caribbean even though I don’t have a specific memory of the ride from that time. How you ask? Because the next time I went I was about 11, and I was terrified of the first drop underground. I had myself so completely psyched-out that I’m pretty sure my little 11 year-old blood pressure was up and I *know* my heart was beating faster as we approached the archway. As we waited to enter that dark archway I hated that moment of just sitting and waiting there, the last boat’s screams echoing in my ears. Then I took a deep breath, held it and gripped the bar in front of me as tightly as I could, I knew there was no chickening out now. As we floated around the bend after the first 1 story drop and the second half story drop I was shocked… I couldn’t believe it… that wasn’t *half* as big a drop as I remembered. In fact, I rather enjoyed it! The rest of the ride I could not get over how much different the ride was from my little, foggy 3 year-old’s memory. I had almost talked myself out of doing the whole thing altogether, which would have kept me from experiencing what quickly became one of my favorite rides in the whole park.

Lately I’ve been reminded of this experience due to unexpected, but not unfamiliar events in my life. And I am very quick to point at God and say “I know this, I’ve been here before and I don’t want to do this! How could you lead me here again?! Why doesn’t it ever get any easier?” As we keeping moving forward I’m finding that this ‘drop’ isn’t nearly so awful as I made it out to be; situations are rarely exactly the same as they were in the past. Ultimately, it doesn’t matter how scary or how hard a situation is; if it is the path that my Redeemer has laid for me, I must learn to trust that it is the best path possible. If I knew every challenge that God has for me over the years… I’m pretty sure I would be a stubborn mule and refuse to move. How many of us would chose to willingly walk a path of pain and suffering, if given the choice? Our natural human nature seeks to avoid pain, to avoid loss. This is where I have to remind myself that when it all comes down to it, He is the Creator, I am merely the creation. I trust in His loving-kindness.

“This is the word that came to Jeremiah from the Lord: ‘Arise, and go down to the potter’s house, and there I will let you hear my words.’ So I went down to the potter’s house, and there he was working at his wheel. And the vessel he was making of clay was spoiled in the potter’s hand, and he reworked it into another vessel, as it seemed good to the potter to do. Then the word of the Lord came to me: ‘O house of Israel, can I not do with you as this potter has done?’ declares the Lord. ‘Behold, like the clay in the potter’s hand, so are you in my hand…’

~ Jeremiah 18: 1-6

Don't Look Down

The only way to learn how to do it faster, more accurately… is not to look down. When I look down I slow down, and I don’t learn. But I don’t want to trust my fingers, they don’t know where to go yet and I don’t want to deal with mistakes, I want to trust my eyes, then I *know* that I’m pressing the right button, striking the correct keys. I don’t like mistakes, they glare at me, “they’re wasted time” my mind rails… But I’m wrong, again, how can I learn how to do it correctly and quickly, without letting my fingers figure it out on their own?

Is life much different? How much does my inner pride squirm when I have to admit my own mis-struck keys? How much do I want to see before I press? How often do I freeze because “what if I…?”. How often to do I torture my mind going over my mis-spoken words, my stumbling tongue, my ‘not good enough’ writing? Even more so… how can I hear that still small voice when I let the cacophony of my ego, my pride scream out “don’t do it! You’ll mess up! It won’t be good enough!”

But that’s really the point isn’t it? I’m not supposed to be good enough, if *I* was good enough… how would anyone see my wonderful Christ? My beautiful Jesus? It hurts to be broken, to be threshed on the floor, I don’t want to be without my covering. But I have seen the path that fear takes me, I’ve felt the breath of the deceiver whispering in my ear… and I followed what I heard; I have taken the ‘easy’ path and seen the pain it has wrought. I will do what I can to not go there again. So I bow low, I open myself in all it’s hurting, broken ugliness and pray to my Redeemer “please, take this and mold it to bring you glory.” I quake at the uncertainty, I have no idea what His story will look like, what road I will have to take. But in my fear… I choose trust today.