He always has been. And that is truth I need to remember.
There isn't anything we're doing to make Him more of what He is.
And there isn't anything we can do to make Him any less.
But I'm sensing His presence a bit more recently. And it's close to indescribable. Almost a fragile feeling.
It's sort of like we're teetering on the edge of self and submission.
To what we want in our limited perspective, and what He wants in our learning.
We're talking about hard questions, my groom and me.
I can't help thinking that this is a powerful time in our story.
That these conversations open the floodgates to possibilities beyond our Now.
That these are Real miracle-making kinds of conversations.
It's hard to choose courage to trust.
Because I can't see what's on the other side of this moment.
Haiti and orphans and poverty have been on my mind a lot lately.
I shared some of my thoughts with my groom the other day and admittedly went to bed a little bit angry at his jaded perspective, though I confessed my own.
A few days buffered our conversation and then I found myself mentioning the topic again, only to discover...he'd been thinking about it since then. This simple comment of his nearly made me keel over in awe.
Because, truthfully, part of me had wished I had never shared my heart with him and let our conversation go there in the first place.
I wondered what it mattered.
I feared nothing would come of it.
I doubted its purpose.
...and then, I almost hadn't brought it up again.
So I thought...
Maybe this is a necessary conversation.
Maybe God is working something in him, and me, and us.
It's so easy for us to cast judgment on places where we have no experience or familiarity.
And it's even easier to think our world is more needy, or that we shouldn't let others in.
I've felt shame for our perspectives. For our lack of love and grace.
Truth is, I've almost not wanted to admit I even know the person who has said what he's said of late.
But, that's what love is.
Real love accepts all of who we are, right. now.
If I knew just how ugly my own ugliness really is, I'd keel over in disgust. But He doesn't let me see that fully.
And that's what grace is.
Real grace covers what really is.
Someone encouraged me the other day by telling me that Every. One. asks these hard questions.
I was able to see past all the good some people are doing and the superhero faith that I too often think he has, or she has, to see the Real struggle, the Real faith-growing that He works in us all.
He makes our questions a necessary part of our story...
for us to know Him--love and grace--more fully.
I am believing this more and more.
So, I'll continue to trust that these hard questions really are for purpose.
And I'll consider that maybe our willingness to ask them is worship.