As I wrote last week, I am still finding my way through the darkness, leaning into the mystery that is God and His plan. He is good, leading me further and deeper by degrees, giving me moments of rest and light. He teaches me slowly, by steps. Patiently chipping away my defects (He has a lot of work to do). Extending my patience by moments. Challenging my ability to trust.
The Christian way is different: harder and easier. Christ says, "Give me All. I don't want so much of your time and so much of your money and so much of your work: I want You. I have not come to torment your natural self, but to kill it. No half measures are any good. I don't want to cut off a branch here and a branch there. I want to have the whole tree down. I don't want to drill the tooth, or crown it, or stop it, but to have it out. Hand over the whole natural self, all the desires which you think innocent as well as the ones you think wicked - the whole outfit. I will give you a new self instead. In fact, I will give you Myself: My own will shall become yours."
C. S. Lewis Mere Christianity
He's asked me to trust what He's already revealed, to put my weight against it. To find it can more than bear what I bring to it.
I've recently encountered another impossible situation; one that [by my own assessments] seems to be without hope, one which I cannot reason my way around or through. [this is where I very maturely & wisely throw up my hands & ask why!?] This has had me on my knees, beating the floor, only able to utter the very feeble but starkly honest prayer of
He's also asked me to sacrifice a very particular desire. One that is good, one that He Himself planted. I've had it my whole life. Most people do.
Yet He says
Let loose your grip on it, child.
but it's mine. I want it.
mine mine mine
is what I say.
I need it to be happy.
if I let You have it, it won't be mine anymore.
I've got His gifts in a vice; I've got a deathgrip on what I want.
It's disconcerting to realize how much I've put myself first in this relationship;
God has been unremittingly patient.
I must leave these childish ways behind: demanding my own version of goodness which [**no surprise here**] falls far short of what He will author if I let Him.
it's a small but dangerous word: if
I keep coming back to the question:
will I trust His goodness before my own pathetic assessment of my "impossible" circumstances?
will I trust Him with the desires He gave me, trusting He knows better than I how best to satisfy them [or turn them into something even better]?
and why, oh why must I stamp something IMPOSSIBLE! before I push it in His direction?
Is He not the One who:
divided loaves and fishes, feeding thousands
turned water to wine
healed lepers & paralytics
walked on water
brought Himself back from the dead
And I'm concerned about how He'll handle my issues?
I think that just maybe, when I say "impossible!!", God rolls up his sleeves & says:
So I say:
I let it all go [something I will need to do again & again, no doubt]
do what you do, God. I want to see what You're up to.