Shedding Expectations

 Driving home the other night, the old demons awoke and began to strangle me.  Down down down into the abyss of doubt, doom and despair I fell.  I wanted to hurt, wanted to yell, to scream, to allow the anger to fill me until I exploded and was no more.  In this deep despair, I begged God for a sign.  Asked, once more, for some tangible proof that He still loves me, that I'm not the worthless reject I've been labelled.

 All was silent.  I wanted words that said "I was wrong", or "You are missed", or "Our community is weaker without you".  I turned to my computer, hoping for a message from God there.  My inbox held ads for restaurants, savings to be had on kids clothing and shoes, and a praise report from Austria, but nothing personal, nothing that spoke of regret.  I wondered then, as I have wondered, if God mourns the ripping apart of community, the rejection by his people.

  Being rejected by a church damages one's view of God.

 I stood in church the next day, still broken and battered.  Music washed over me.  Unable to be still, I lifted my voice and then, in that moment of corporate worship, a realization swept over me.  Healing will come.  It won't be the way I want it, nor will it come from the places I long for it to come.  I want to be vindicated by others' regret.  Yet that would not be true healing.  It's hard to lay aside these hopes and desires, to realize the restoration and reconciliation I have longed for most likely won't happen on this earth.  Slowly, I strip off the layers of anger and hope-deferred to step naked of all expectations into the healing embrace of the Father, choosing to trust, each day new, that healing, full perfect and complete, will come.

Tossed about: James Chapter 1

Sometimes the Word of God just reaches up and smacks me in the face.

 My heart is divided.  I don't want it to be, but it is.  Sometimes I even try to pretend that my heart is whole, just a little cracked.  But the reality is that I waver between being faith-filled and consumed by doubt.   One moment I'm moving forward in faith, trusting in God's goodness; the next I'm cowering in fear, consumed by doubt and pain.  It's hard to get anything accomplished while living on see-saw.

 James has harsh words for me:

Do not waver, for a person with divided loyalty is as unsettled as a wave of the sea that is blown and tossed by the wind.  Such people should not expect to receive anything from the Lord. Their loyalty is divided between God and the world, and they are unstable in everything they do.    

James 1:6-8

His words describe me well.  I am unstable, trusting that God is good one moment and then overwhelmed  with the notion that He has abandoned me or is capricious the next.  My life reflects this as does my faith. It's hard to invest in my relationship with God when I'm unconvinced of His character.  And how can God answer my prayers when I spend half of my time accusing Him? 

 I've repented of my divided heart, asked for forgiveness and healing.  I want to trust God, I want to move forward in faith. So now I make the choice.  I choose to trust God, to trust that He is indeed good and that His mercies do endure forever.  Not only that, but I'm actively looking for His mercies, the blessings of protection, beauty and goodness that He strews along my path. 

 I'm climbing off this see-saw and running for the beach, where I will dive headlong into the ocean of His grace. 

 I'm writing with Marla today as we study the book of James. Join with us? 

Desert Wanderings

 I've been wandering in the desert these past two years.  It's hostile here; even the temperature changes are extreme.  There is life here, but it's hard to find and either prickly or poisonous.  But somehow, in this hostile, intemperate land, I have fashioned an existence for myself.  It's meager living at best, but it's something.

 I've gotten comfortable here. I know the rocks, the wind, the sand. Each holds a story-most of them about betrayal and loneliness.  There are many stories here.  I am never alone, never lost because I remember the pain.  Alone in the desert, I won't forget. I won't get fooled into getting hurt again.  Somehow it's safer in this wild place.

 But now it's time to leave.  I know that deep down, my time here is done.  There are new places to explore, fertile countries with a more moderate climate, abundant vegetation, open water and no scorpions.  It sounds like heaven. My heart should be rejoicing, I should be packing my bags and heading out...but I'm not.

 I'm scared.  I know this place.  It isn't much, but it's home. It hurts here, yes.  But it's old hurt. I can't be fooled here. Out there, in the lush place of abundance, there will be many opportunities to be wounded. I may get tricked again.  Where will I be then?  I can't see myself heading back into the desert, having to relearn living here all over again. Could I survive having to return?

 The questions swirl around in my head. I ignore them, pack my bags, and head out into a scary new adventure.