There hasn't even been time to process, really. To sit down and think. The pace has been rapid and I feel very much like I've been hunkered down, head bent, shoulders pressed against the weight of it all. Push forward. With all my might.
It always works out, you know? I've only been homeless a few times, but even then I had a couch to sleep on. When I run out of food, more is always provided. A way is always made, it seems, when there is no way.
This is a hard way to live. Things have been hard for a long time, and though there is some joy in each day, I wish mine and Judah's story would take a quick turn. A new season would be such a blessing.
But this morning I made a phone call. Defiantly stared into the face of all the doubt and worry and said "no -- no thank you."
I hope He takes this as the act of faith I feel like it was. Because logic says I should have accepted. Logic says I didn't make the responsible decision. On paper, it made sense. But it didn't make sense for our lives. It didn't make sense for the story being written. The world wanted me to write a story about a Volvo. But God's trying to write an adventure.
I heard Him say, "you're not done there". And I heard Him say, "time is a gift". And I heard Him say, "trust Me in this. Trust me enough, for once, to stay right where you are."
It would be the same day other options would fall upon me as if the ceiling had collapsed. The same day that He would offer alternatives, some hope of provision. Just like He always does though -- knowing my eyes seek so far ahead. One step at a time. One set of directions at a time. He knows me, knows how easily I get overwhelmed.
Prayers are being answered that I don't remember praying. The control freak in me wants to pray the prayer, hear the answer, and then have a story to tell. It doesn't glorify me at all, it just helps me understand. And it's a part of my testimony, how I help others see God. But that's not always how God works.
I'm coming to realize my prayers don't have to be specific for us to be taken care of. Occasionally, for dramatic effect, I think He shows up and shows off to make Himself abundantly clear.
Other days, He wants us to bend close. To recognize the obscurity, the general "working out of things", as His hand moving.
Does that make sense?
I am not powerful because I pray. My life doesn't unfold daily because I remember to ask. There is power in prayer and being bold enough to ask for what we need. But I was, and am, reminded of Matthew 6. And my guess is the lilies don't spend their days asking for rain.
Intimacy is in the details. In the quiet details of doing life together. This is where so many go wrong with their relationship with God. I am not a good Christian, but I surely know the Father. If only because we share my life. Sometimes I forget this. Sometimes I forget He already sees. Sometimes I forget that He wants to help us, and He doesn't have to wait for my go ahead.
So a few weeks ago when I started praying "please make a way", He knew it was my way of saying "I have no clue what the hell I am doing. Fix this."
Fix this.
I am reminded of worship service I attended at Southland a few years ago. Burned into my memory so well is Amanda Carter singing "Hosanna". She stopped in the middle of the song and explained what Hosanna meant, literally translated. Come fix this. Come down, come here. Come fix what we cannot.
So that's what I started praying. Make a way, where there seems to be no way. When I am fresh out of ideas, when I have no more solutions, when I am at a loss. Please, fix this. Take care of us. Help me take care of us.
I do not believe in the old adage of, "God helps those who help themselves". Too often I have seen Him stoop down and love on all of us. Too many people get what they don't deserve. God does not rely on us to be good. He is not a good father because we are good children.
I believe we are called to do what we can. To be responsible for what we've been given. To use our time, energy, resources, gifts, to build a life and leave a legacy. I also think we need lots of help. I also don't believe in the old adage "God won't give you more than you can handle."
If you and I were together right now, I would have said that and sighed out of exasperation. Maybe thrown my arms and up and sank back into my chair. I hate the saying. Not until you are staring at a load at your feet, too heavy for you to pick up alone, will you ever understand how ABSURD it is. How naïve it is.
He wants us to ask for help.
God helps. He does. He doesn't need my permission to do it. And He sure doesn't need our ideas to help Him figure out how.
He just loves it when we trust Him enough to ask.
Go ahead. Tell Him you're scared. Tell Him you have no idea where to go from here. Sometimes, when we finish His sentences, we get it all wrong. Let's learn how to give Him time to talk back. Make room for Him to answer.
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