It came to light on Wednesday. I met this lady- this wonderful woman who knows and loves Jesus so deeply. Who was saturated with the Holy Spirit to the point that to meet her is to know that He is the center of her world. And joy practically oozed out of her pores. It sounds cheesy to say but I can promise it didn't feel cheesy. It was honest and real and hard fought and hard won, through stories and journeys that aren't mine to share in this space.
I mostly sat and listened to she and my friend (who is the reason we met) catch up and share. When I talked, I mostly asked her questions about herself or added to my friend's observations.
And then she talked about doing what she was made for, both the struggle to accept it and to feel like she was enough for it....and the joy in it now.
And I felt my heart groan under the weight of how much I longed to be her.
Not because I want her story, but because I ache to know what I was made for. It makes my eyes fill with tears just to type those words.
I'll admit there is a piece of me that believes that knowing that will make all paths straight and smooth out the way before me. And that's a lie. And it's idolatry. Because it's trusting and putting my hope in the future, not in the God who is sovereign over it and over me. And that's something I have struggled with my whole life.
But back to Wednesday. My heavy heart led me to break the silence with ten little words:
"I just wish I knew what I was made for."
The conversation moved on, with me downplaying that desire as I'm prone to do. But later, as we prepared to leave, she moved closer to where we sat on the couch and said:
"You're applying to all kinds of things, aren't you? Like throwing darts and just hoping that something will stick somewhere and that something will fall into your lap and that will be the right thing. And that's not what you were made for. He wants you to go get with Him. To ask Him what it is He wants you to do. And when He answers, you set your face like flint after that thing."
And those words brought me to tears and stifled sobs, because she was so terribly right, even to the point of using words I'm positive I have used myself over the last few months. And they've been swirling around my head on repeat since then. I don't remember if she ever called it fear, but I know she knew the truth: I'm terrified to ask Him. And as much as I love knowing the "why" behind almost everything in the universe, I don't really think it matters here.
Because the problem here is not why I'm afraid to ask so much as it is that I don't trust His heart. I don't trust Him to answer. I fear if He does He might lead me into something that might take everything from me and still find me wanting, or something I would not understand, or something that I would hate. I'm absolutely petrified He will lead me to a place of failure. What if I can't hear Him? What if I get it wrong? What if there are walls I cannot move? What if I ask, really ask, and He doesn't answer? What then? How do you move on from that?
And even if I sit in counselor's offices or over cups of coffee with friends or in a pastor's office for hundreds of hours each, it won't heal me. Not alone. What I need is faith. And I can't produce faith on my own-faith is a gift. And it's one I'm longing for.
I think it's amazing that He gave me the truth about all of this before Wednesday's conversation ever occurred. Last week I woke up and was lying in bed and feeling a lot of fear. And I started talking to Him about it. Now over the last few years I've somehow learned to call Him "sir" instead of the child's voice crying Abba. Often I approach Him more as an impartial judge from whom I need advice and wisdom than as the Abba who looks on me with love. But that morning as I opened the conversation I called Him Abba. And that's when the thought struck me with a sharpness that has not diminished at all in the week since, and with a ferocity and clarity that clearly marked it as His:
Fear is not my Abba; He is.
And there is so much more I plan to say on that subject very soon. But here in this space I want to ask for prayer: prayer for the courage- the faith- to ask Him. And grace to listen too. He knows I'm often impatient and fearful. Please pray He gives me courage to stay and a heart of faith to believe He will come and that it cannot be less than beautiful when He does, because He is good and He loves me. And you. He is good and loves you too. May we believe it and cry Abba with our whole hearts to the One who is faithful for all eternity.
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