Showing posts with label faith. Show all posts
Showing posts with label faith. Show all posts

Wednesday, June 5, 2013

surrendering superwoman

every thing is coming at me at once. or, at least it seems that way.

     a potential job that seems so much bigger than me . . .

     a potential adoption journey -- or maybe now it's another child of our own . . .

     a potential book -- or maybe even two . . .

     a vision of a ministry . . .

it's crazy how so much is happening at once. i'm hope-filled.
yet, to be honest, i'm also completely exhausted.

i've been a chaser of control.

life happens and we can't stop it. and even if we could, would we really want to? because, isn't this the stuff life is made of? actual living?

i'm intensely excited about corners i can't see around. almost insanely so.

risk is something i feel is breathing down my neck. and really, it's faith nudging me. prompting me to walk when the water is just underneath my feet -- so close i can feel it next to my skin. to live a life of actively trusting Him.

my toes are wet. i've experienced His glory. and it's confusing and so incredibly overwhelming.

     what do i do with this?, i ask. now what?!

grace brings all things together and makes it known that He is still in the miracle business.

i am reminded that i worship the same God that Moses did. and Abraham. Sarah. And David.

He invites me to bring to Him all the things i hold too closely -- my Isaac's.

so i search my heart . . .

     my son . . . my groom . . . my vision of a perfect marriage . . . my job . . . my very life . . .

          . . . a second child . . . adoption . . . the book . . . attention . . . my desire to be noticed . . .

i've been asked to consider surrendering every thing. -- as in, Every. Thing. 

     as in, put my entire heart on the line and my doubt of how it's all i'm all held together.

i've been asked to surrender all that has come from hard work -- the flat belly and the ripped shoulders and back, and the eight-pack abs -- the epitome of pride.

i'm being asked to surrender my longing for perfect patience and perfect gentleness and not burned dinners -- all the things i expect of myself that are too big and completely unfair.

for a lot of my life i lived under the illusion that i needed to live like a superhero.

eventually i learned that though i am capable of a lot, i am usually not asked to do as much as i think is expected of me. He calls me to simple and that has become the most difficult -- it seems so weak and an inefficient, wasted use of time.

a doctor once spoke these words to me: "today isn't a day to be superwoman." those words seared in me as i squirmed and cringed to avoid the truth that i was in pain, as he scoured my uterus for what remained of a placenta from the little girl i never got to know, though who He knew. God used that moment to allow me the feeling of pain, yet my *self* was in the way to feel it.

my pride said i don't need Him to heal because there's nothing there that needs healing. and of course, the truth was i needed Him more than ever.

when we trust Him anyway . . . 
     even though we don't have it all together 
     and even though everything is happening altogether . . . 
we are living by faith and we are actively living out worship

life *whirls and twirls* around us and still, we do it anyway. we live -- honestly. real. -- just the way we were created to be, even with our doubt and fear and confusion and overwhelming sense of not being enough. He tells me again and again: This. Is. Worship.

when we dig deep and search our heart for what bits of self remain and choose to call them out -- own the self-righteousness, the pride, the controlling self that tries to position ourselves as god . . .

     when we cry out in the night with sheer agony that this is just so hard . . .

     when we dare to tell the story of darkness, even though we've yet to see the beauty . . .

He honors our heart . . .

     and therein lies the miracle . . . and we begin to See Him for Real.

     and in the seeing, we learn to release one more finger from our gripped-tight hand . . .

     and we begin to trust a little bit more that we are, truly, enough.



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Friday, May 17, 2013

song

It's found in the moment. Each one as they come.

And I try to notice. Deliberately listen.

My mind flitters from one thing to the next. Races.

Constantly, muscles flex to pull me back again. To here.

I die to then and when and if. Over and over again.

Regularly I sift through the murky waters of regret for what I made a moment to be.

I'm so often wrestling with temptation to craft the future as I wish it to be.

I want to hear the song of now.

To notice the pitch and bravado -- to trust He composed this moment with such purpose.

Faith beckons me here.


Today's post was part of my friend, Lisa-Jo's fun challenge each Friday to take five and Just. Write.

     "...for five, short, bold beautiful minutes... unscripted and unedited...
     without worrying if it's just right or not."

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Wednesday, April 24, 2013

wounds


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.


Share your heart . . . add a comment below.

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Dream God-sized Dreams

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