Waking Up

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It happens so slowly.

It’s this tingling feeling that is so soft and subtle that you may not even notice it at first.  Or you ignore it, because maybe it’s just something you ate or an off day or a jolt of adrenaline.

But somehow, even just a shred of this ‘wakefulness’ is enough to take root in your veins. Even a scrap of it will latch on to you and lurk there, tugging on your heart, nagging at your mind.

I am learning me.  I’m learning about this hopeless romantic who is so desperately embarrassing to me.

I am learning about this dreamer who loves dragons and kingdoms and worlds that I haven’t seen yet.

I am learning things He already knows about me and as I learn them I am learning Him.  I am learning that I get my romantic streak from my Father in Heaven.  He wrote the book on adventure and recklessness and a life lived un-wasted on the temporal.

And I am learning what it feels like when you believe and can lift your head above all this stuff and see what’s real and grasp it with both hands and forget what lies behind and strain towards what lies ahead.

I don’t want to waste my life.

That’s the anthem in my veins.  It’s the pulse beating in me these days.

And i have no idea what it means.  Except that I don’t want to waste my life.  

On singleness or marriage.  On ministry or money.  Or any good gift or any temptation from satan.

I don’t want to waste my life.

And I scream at the Spirit in myself: what does that mean??  What does that desperate urging in my heart mean?

The answer is confusing. Some days it appears to be a practical strategy.  Some days it is so seemingly off-topic that it’s irritating: a random thought, a stray verse, a cryptic question like “who do you say I am?”

Most days it is a sweet smile of gentle gracious silence.

My confidence ebbs and flows.  My feet are like vapor floating around with no where firm to stand.  And I hunger for the lead weight of faith to bring them crashing back down and anchor them to the ground.  I hunger for the peace of a steadfast heart.

And all around me it seems people are moving forward – some sleep walking, but many running forward – alert and sure; alive and awake with all the certainty I long for.

And I don’t know what to think about that except that I am not them.

I am learning me.  And so far, what I know is this: I am exactly who I am and that’s not a mistake.

If You need me to be steadfast, You will make me so.  (Maybe that is what You’re doing even now).

When it’s time to speak You will give me the words.  And whatever weakness this is in me – surely it is also Your great grace to me.  It forces me to need.  It keeps me here: huddled up by your side, eyes squeezed tightly shut, sure of nothing except You.   

And for now, these pulses of life, these bursts of faith are more than enough to send me hurtling forward into You.

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Comments

  1. Thanks for sharing this! It’s pretty relevant to how I’m feeling right now, too. He is growing some sort of beautiful fruit, I’m just not exactly sure what sort!

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