a Rock for Him: Thomas

So much of me wants to step over the edge to what I cannot see. To truly live by faith.

I feel a push to choose the unabashed faith-living where I am certain of what I do not see. Just as I wonder what it would be like to go there, I scratch my way back to where I feel more secure, where I can see what appears to be most Real.

I've been contemplating crazy God-sized dreams that have followed me around in the *whirl and twirl* of my days, wondering about the possibility of their realness. And I've been taking steps to pursue them -- deliberately. boldly. bravely. When I don't see evidence of what I hope for, doubt nags at me.

The other day, my son took a lacrosse ball to the chest without his pads. Though unintended, the shot went directly at him, leaving an obvious mark that was overwhelming to see. It wasn't until I saw the wound that I understood the magnitude of the blessing. I felt the pangs of what if, and guilt began to gnaw at me for how my grip is so tight.

It changed me to see the mark.

Looking down at my fingers, I notice how they grip so tightly. Even though I know I can loosen them, I am humbled to realize my own fears hold back my faith-living and cause me to wrestle doubt as much as I do.

I'm human. I create idols and my comfort is based around them a lot of the time. I can say that I surrender and I can try not to live for anything or anyone other than Him, but the truth is that I do. And, He's mostly okay with it. His grace is big enough to give me permission to be me right now with all my doubt.

He allows this process of growing.

Thomas was given an opportunity to see Jesus after He was crucified, to see His wounds. God didn't have to do that for him -- to respond to his doubt -- yet, He allowed Thomas to see. Jesus even remarked that Thomas was blessed because he saw.

Seeing is what changed me.

It was a gift to see the mark where my son was hit -- to have a greater understanding for what could have been, and to consider what didn't. Part of me feels shame for being affected by a wound as much as I have been and I am tempted to shrug it off as no big deal.

What it represents is Real.

I don't want to minimize Him in my life, especially for His purposes -- even for these crazy dreams that may never come to be in the way I imagine.