a trust thing

When you chase so hard after something you are certain is part of your story --

. . . and you find that it's not what you wanted, necessarily,
          it's just what you believed would be true . . .

. . . and all those years of worrying that you might possibly be wrong,
          that there's no guarantee your dreams will ever come to be . . .

. . . and something monumental actually does happen . . .

. . . and it happens in you . . .

Such was the case with me.

: : : 

I wanted to believe.
I wanted to know God is real.
I wanted to know in my own knock-my-socks-off way.

I thought I wasn't good enough, that perhaps He was annoyed and irritated with me like I was with myself, and like I imagined so many other people were with me.
   
All my fears, all the anxiety I carried around with me . . . it all became asked of me as possibilities to consider.

     What if my groom dies while we're still in the midst of raising him?

     What if our son dies?

     What if we die and leave him alone?

     What if I lose my job?

     What if I get sick and die?

     What if this dream never comes true?

     What if I never have the close relationships I longed for all those years?

To face fear is the only way to move through it. 

To avoid it or be quiet about it, only allows it to stick around longer and take up residence, keeping me frozen.

Do I trust Him? That is actually the real question to all my anxiety.

I always made every anxiety about Me.

I tried to ensure certain possibilities by eating a certain way, or working out a certain way, or learning all I can to fix all the things.

What if it isn't really about me?

What if someone in the crossfires of my story actually needs to be there for God to do some miraculous work in their lives?

What if the challenges my groom and I face with our son are really the way God will draw Boy-Man to His heart?

What if my imperfections are a way for someone else -- possibly someone who isn't even within my close knit circle -- to see the Hand and Face of God?

Do I trust Him with life, as it is?

: : : 

I think about the times I've lived reckless, the times I threw my hands up and pitched a little fit, pretending I didn't care. I contrast those choices with how my life is at this very moment and I am utterly amazed, incredibly humbled, and in slack-jawed awe.

Where my life is at is nothing short of a miracle. It is most definitely a reflection of the Hand of God, there is simply no other explanation. Because, I certainly haven't done enough good to be here, and it certainly can't be luck that brought me here.

My life is a reflection of Grace that says I am loved, as I am. 

There is nothing I need do to earn favor when my heart longs to honor Him, even though I can tend to selfishly want what I want.

I've realized that I can trust Him.

I can be naked, fully exposing who I am
     . . . and I will be held
     . . . safe and secure.