Life is terrifying. The journey is arduous. We weather conditions that change us and as we watch ourselves wince and recoil, we wonder if we'll survive, if we'll find our feet, our voice or our strength. But it's less about finding, and more about creating - and creation is always a process. At any point in the process it appears messy and chaotic, like disorganized mayhem or untamed energy. But with a broad lens it all builds towards something meaningful. Something bountiful.
A life fully alive craves expansion. It wants to spread out, take up space and live a little bigger. I’ve been feeling that recently. Maybe some of you have too. Feeling like your soul is stretching outward, forward even, hungry to be all that God created you to be. Maybe you’ve been dreaming big dreams, feeling the nudge towards courage, vulnerability and healing, but perhaps you've also felt resistance too.
VERY SPECIAL BLOG POST:
In less than three short weeks we’ll be touching down in the UK as a family of 4. I’ve missed England. The smell of the countryside, the sound of British chatter and the cobbled stone beneath my feet. These days I’m very much a city girl, with an accent that few people can accurately identify, but my heart still feels connected to rolling hills and craggy stone walls.
Occupying the same space as another, holding their pain and pausing to just be with them means we have to resist the urgent demands of time. Loving someone means we do less. If we want to settle in with those who are weeping, we’ll need to plant roots, silence the noise and leave the clock at home. And instead of ticking hands, we’ll hear beating hearts. Theirs – and ours. With each beat we hear our collective humanity.
To be honest I think we all need a lesson in what genuine waiting looks like. There are seasons where we simply stand and look for Jesus to act on our behalf. We tarry with expectation, pause in prayer and actively engage in looking to Him. Those are genuine and much needed seasons. But beware. Fear masquerades as patience.