Peace in unlikely places
It was time to get out tonight.. Time for a walk.. time for some time, just to myself.
One of my favourite parks was a good location. As I strode off into the darkness, the cold of the night wrapped around me. It felt very real, and very right.
I spoke to God. I wouldn't say I talked with Him, because really, my heart and my whole body was hurting so much, and still is, that all I could do in that quiet place was cry out. The fact that I'm listening to a sermon series on Lamentations right now probably didn't help. The darkness grew and the coldness intensified, but it didn't bother me. Partly because I had a motivation to keep walking and stretch my legs and mainly because I just didn't care.
Finally, when I had walked the whole park the tears I had begged for came. The awesome release of complete collapse found me in gentle, agonizing waves. When I found an ounce of composure, I asked if God had anything to tell me, anything that might help me put the pieces into place. He said "I love you". I said "I know", and then asked "what's going on?" He asked "Do you trust me?" "Sure," I replied uneasily, "who else could I trust?"
"I have great plans for you; so great that you won't believe it when you get there." Now I've heard this before. I've heard so many people say that God has declared that great things are in store for them. I tend to unfairly put them in the same category as those who claim they were Pharaoh in a past life. Sure you were, just like everyone else. No one ever tells you they were Pharaoh's toilet cleaner.. And yet what have I to lose by doubting these words? If I should someday look back and realise it is true, then it will be a marvellous day. And if I get to the end of my time and am still able to bear my pain, then who is to say that is not a momentous achievement in itself? I rather suspect that 'great plans' are not what we imagine them to be, just as Heaven is not the Greek delusion we so often revert to, with it's clouds and harps and yoghurt - commercial sappy-ness.
When I had pondered a little, I asked 'What do you need me to do?' The answer was painful. "trust me." "Anything Else?" "Let me love you." That simple. Too simple. I asked again, fearing that I had not made my request for a task or 'to-do' list clear. "Trust me, and let me love you." I get it now. I have all my life feared the consequences of inaction. So much so, that I have never rested comfortably with this simple instruction from God. Even now, it sickens my stomach. I am much happier doing than being. Well at least I think I am. I imagine that I am probably wrong, and the only way to discover this will be to sit. To let myself be loved and trust God.
And I don't know what the result will be. I don't know if it will be days or weeks or years until things change. I don't know if the desires that hurt me so much now will ever find any kind of fulfilment, which causes an ache so bad inside of me because, as far as I can tell, they are not destructive desires, but the desires of love, relationship and community. Things I am designed to seek. And I don't know why I still feel sick, or why my appetite has left me. But I hope. I hope for hope. And I will desire that Christ works in me to bring me peace while I wait, and guide me to participation that will make me more of who I am, not less. The fullness of Christ is to find fullness in Christ.
One of my favourite parks was a good location. As I strode off into the darkness, the cold of the night wrapped around me. It felt very real, and very right.
I spoke to God. I wouldn't say I talked with Him, because really, my heart and my whole body was hurting so much, and still is, that all I could do in that quiet place was cry out. The fact that I'm listening to a sermon series on Lamentations right now probably didn't help. The darkness grew and the coldness intensified, but it didn't bother me. Partly because I had a motivation to keep walking and stretch my legs and mainly because I just didn't care.
Finally, when I had walked the whole park the tears I had begged for came. The awesome release of complete collapse found me in gentle, agonizing waves. When I found an ounce of composure, I asked if God had anything to tell me, anything that might help me put the pieces into place. He said "I love you". I said "I know", and then asked "what's going on?" He asked "Do you trust me?" "Sure," I replied uneasily, "who else could I trust?"
"I have great plans for you; so great that you won't believe it when you get there." Now I've heard this before. I've heard so many people say that God has declared that great things are in store for them. I tend to unfairly put them in the same category as those who claim they were Pharaoh in a past life. Sure you were, just like everyone else. No one ever tells you they were Pharaoh's toilet cleaner.. And yet what have I to lose by doubting these words? If I should someday look back and realise it is true, then it will be a marvellous day. And if I get to the end of my time and am still able to bear my pain, then who is to say that is not a momentous achievement in itself? I rather suspect that 'great plans' are not what we imagine them to be, just as Heaven is not the Greek delusion we so often revert to, with it's clouds and harps and yoghurt - commercial sappy-ness.
When I had pondered a little, I asked 'What do you need me to do?' The answer was painful. "trust me." "Anything Else?" "Let me love you." That simple. Too simple. I asked again, fearing that I had not made my request for a task or 'to-do' list clear. "Trust me, and let me love you." I get it now. I have all my life feared the consequences of inaction. So much so, that I have never rested comfortably with this simple instruction from God. Even now, it sickens my stomach. I am much happier doing than being. Well at least I think I am. I imagine that I am probably wrong, and the only way to discover this will be to sit. To let myself be loved and trust God.
And I don't know what the result will be. I don't know if it will be days or weeks or years until things change. I don't know if the desires that hurt me so much now will ever find any kind of fulfilment, which causes an ache so bad inside of me because, as far as I can tell, they are not destructive desires, but the desires of love, relationship and community. Things I am designed to seek. And I don't know why I still feel sick, or why my appetite has left me. But I hope. I hope for hope. And I will desire that Christ works in me to bring me peace while I wait, and guide me to participation that will make me more of who I am, not less. The fullness of Christ is to find fullness in Christ.
posted by T | 19:36
5 Comments:
Hi, just wondering how things have been for you since your last post
Interestingly, I think I have gone through this cycle a couple of times since. I guess these are the questions you ask when dreams are shattered and disappointments come. I think at least I am progressing forward, though the road goes up and down quite a lot along the way!
hey, its been a while, have you found what you've looking for?
Hi there.
It has been a while (too long by my standards).
I'm not sure if I've reached a 'destination', but what I know is that I'm further down the road, and that the place I'm in right now is very good indeed. Although there will be more ups and downs, I'm hoping that the journey will continue to be an enjoyable challenge!
sending you good vibes and wishes for the new year, may it be filled with excitement, adventure, and fortune.
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