thinking things about life and Jesus and stuff
What kind of God are you?
That question has been tossed heavenward more times then I can count. It’s deeply knitted into the heartbeat of my faith; always pulsing, constant and steady, in the weeping and the wonder.
I breathed it out in worship on December 6th last year. Knowing that you are worthy, and knowing that your worth is beyond comprehension, so in awe of all you had done and all you were doing I sang that question heavenward: what kind of God are you?
There are curves up ahead; bends in this twisting turning road that is my life.
For the longest time, whenever I’ve looked ahead, all I have been able to see is the same straight path laid out before me. The shifts in the trajectory of my life have come without warning: the sin struggles I never anticipated, the news of cancer and death. While the shock of the unexpected brought its own level of wreckage and pain, it carried a grace: deliverance from the waiting and the wondering and the anticipation.
On Friday morning it finally happened. Austin’s summer heat collapsed under the weight of clear skies and cool(er) temperatures. October and March, offer Austin the kind of weather that explains why us locals are willing to endure horrific summers and pathetic winters. On Friday, all across the city people wrapped that weather around them and headed to Zilker park and listen to glorious music wash over them at ACL Festival. And instead of running to join them, I got in my car and drove to ‘work’. (Well, my version of work – speaking at a retreat.)
The fear is always there. It lurks just below the surface prodding and pushing, demanding and dragging me places I don’t want to go.
I’m not afraid of death.
I’m afraid of life.
I’m afraid of waking up to a world I reject. I’m afraid that the words ‘it won’t always be like this’ are hollow and void of any real power. I’m afraid that the next bend in the road will lead me somewhere darker than death. I’m afraid of being unknown, unwanted, rejected and alone. I’m afraid that the next time someone asks me how I am doing I will tell them the truth and then I will have to watch their eyes widen and their face flush before I make a joke to relieve the awful pressure of reality pushing down on us both.
So thankful to all those God gave to help me prep and to pray for Him to move on Tuesday night during my time with the women from Breakaway.
Romans 1:11-12 kept ringing in my head as I drove to College Station on Tuesday.
For I long to see you, that I may impart to you some spiritual gift to strengthen you—that is, that we may be mutually encouraged by each other’s faith, both yours and mine. (Romans 1:11-12, ESV)
