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Standing on the fringe. 

That's what it felt like to me.

Like I was just a smidge outside of His perfect will, or calling, or whatever you call it.

All I could think about was that I was so close. Yet, all His Spirit kept whispering to my heart was: you are so much closer than you think. 

I was there. In His presence. In the glory. As in, IN. I was, and am, that close.

That I've been or might be forgotten is what I've feared, though I hadn't actually labeled the fear as such. Anxiety would sweep me up in a whirlwind to hurry up and make visions happen because I might miss out. It'd be my fault, or my doing, or something that I'd done or didn't do that would cause me to miss out on something my heart truly desires.

               Hurry. Hurry!
               Choose now.
               No matter whether you're ready, just choose. 
               Just do it. 
               Do it now. 
               Hurry. 
               Hurry! You might miss out.

These were my steady mantras. Manifestos for me, or something like that.

Fear-driven. That was me.

Driven. Intensely driven.

Anxious.

I'd call it passion. But really, it was fear that causes my anxious way of living.

I've lived an angry life for a very long time. My anxiousness comes out in anger. I have a tendency to be irritated and annoyed and downright angry at everyone and everything, and mostly myself.

               So close, but not enough. 

That's what I've feared.

               Standing on the fringe. 

: : : 

People ask God to be a part of their day. To join them or be with them, or whatever.

I think it sounds so crazy.

               Isn't He always with us?
               Isn't He always there?
               Isn't it He who ordains all things? 

Truth tells me this, yet my tendency is to ramble and rush and react. When really, I can rest and rely and relate.

I'm not crazy, as in totally not someone who belongs. I do belong. I am good enough to be a part of this world.

Muscle memory develops in time. My muscles are learning how to respond to the truth that I know and not just react to truth out of fear that says I must, or should or need.

All muscles need rest in order to grow. My heart needs conditioning as much as it needs rest. This is the discipline God is teaching me.

He wants me to rest, as I am.

I've been obedient. I've done all that I can with what might someday be a manuscript. And I've done all that I can with what might actually become of a God-sized dream of a magazine.

I believe the heart of C'est La Vie: The Magazine (or whatever it might really become) is a community that will unleash and free people to live their life, as it is. This community will do this by bolstering one another to know we are not alone.

I can rest that what I've done in defining the mission and articulating the vision for this dream is enough for the rest to be.

What I've done is enough for me to rest and to see: how it develops . . . how He brings it together . . . how He grows me and it and all of us in the process.

I can rest that I am good enough (as I am) for Him to continue to develop this and me and us.

               I can trust Him. 
               I can rest. 

This is what is requested of me now: to rest and not rush.

I understand even more now that this, right now -- this choosing to rest and accept me, as I am -- is my worship.

My choosing to submit to God and trust that as I am is enough . . . that I am a part of glory that already is and already will be . . . I'm that close . . . is my real and raw worship.

Amen.

Linking up with Lisa-Jo 

(even though five minutes took 15 today)

restless

I've lived in fear for so long that gripping life tight and being intensely focused on what I thought I should do became a habit that was hard to break.

I wasn't sure why I lived this way; it always felt so natural.

     God kept nudging me to loosen my grip. 

I'd resist and declare: this. is. how. i. am! I didn't think I could change and thought I was doing everything right.

Being humbled makes everything feel like it's crashing around you. It made me imagine an Earthquake and wanting to push back the pictures and the dishes on the wall as I realize everything is shaking.

We aren't born with octopus-like arms, though, and we can't tend to both the walls and everything else crashing on our very selves. We have to choose to loosen our focus and to trust that even though it feels like the walls are crashing down, whatever may happen won't make all of who we are dissolve. We have to do this to live in peace.

Because, peace-choosing is all about releasing our wants and accepting what is.

To trust that the experiences we've lived (and live) won't be wasted, frees us from all the trying to create sense out of everything. We find rest here.

I've lived restless. And I've tried to figure out why and what I'm doing wrong to have this angst in my heart. I've tried to be content and counted what I've daily unwrapped as gifts. Still, there is a restlessness within me and try as I may it won't go away.

I see now that it's not discontent.

I've been restless to pursue hope, no. matter. what.

It's risky because it most assuredly will bring pain and disappointment. I can't control the outcome and that's the thing.

Still, I am restless for this.

"He is the builder of our dreams. We bring Him our blank canvases, hand them over, and say, whatever you must create to display your glory, do it." (Jennie Allen)

God has been chasing me. Wanting to be my every.thing, He has gently pried my fingers off of the reigns that have falsely given me the idea I'm in control. He continues to shift my focus off me and onto Him. He has helped me to serve just Him; not me or my comfort.

I want whatever He wants these days . . . though part of my hope, admittedly, is to be comfortable and to not hurt. And it's scary because I know myself; I know I want comfort sometimes more than I want His will. But I won't get comfort and life is hard and unfair.

     All in life is for purpose, though. I believe this.
     And I long for Him widen my capacity to trust.

Restlessness in me remains and I know I have been crafted with passions that each day stirs up. I've been purposed to leave a fingerprint, a stamp of His glory.

I'm restless for us all to loose our control . . . for us all to lead others closer to peace and rest by encouraging our Real-selves to live out. 

Like Jennie, I am restless for us all to not waste our days staring at ceilings wondering if there is more, any longer . . . . .

     for us all to . . . take the threads of [our] life and go live like it.

And so, I dare to declare that we each are commissioned to loose us and choose Him, to pursue hope and accept what.ever. is now and what.ever. may be.

Together, might our worship be to step up to the table, boldly Be who we are . . . and with sensitivity to His prompting, loose our idea of what and who we should be.

Let's do this life. Let's run into our restlessness.

this is our worship.