On Waiting

In seeking to follow the Lord, a friend* told me to stop stepping back to analyze the signs and instead to step in, deeper, and listen to what the Lord was saying, now.  Another** asked how to know when to stop waiting.  This is a prayer that merges the two thoughts, written on a walk today.  Bit of a ramble, but so was the walk, though neither as much as you'd think.
---

Lord,

I am moved.  I'm not sure why. I feel attentive.  I feel more aware, awake, more curious.
I desire certainty, of course, and of course there is none.  And I worship you.

I wait for you.  But for how long?
Do I wait for something?  Do I simply wait
upon you, breathe in you, listening for your all-speaking silence?

Oh Love that will not let me go,
I cling to your fingers.
Point, but only if it will not loosen Your grasp on me.
Speak to me, Lover of my soul.
Father of my desires,
make them burn as the pyre of all fleshly thoughts.
Do I yearn rightly?
Let me burn brightly,
My yearning true and hot,
that I would know myself better,
that I may better give myself to thee.

The glimpses of beautiful things
lead me to the bend
and to an intersection, a division, a fork,
leave me breathless, hopeful, and wonderfully unanswered, un-assured and secure.
I breathe deeply, for any smell, and trace, any taste;
I look deeply.
A decision to be savored.
A question worth waiting upon, instead of an answer worth waiting for.
Breathing in, listening as its crevasses respond to my searching, listening ears.

How wide, deep and long; the space to be
filled, the room to be furnished
slowly, in pieces, as each is found abandoned and broken,
salvaged and repaired,
pieces of one into the other
to make one whole and strong,
scarred, sacred, weathered and resigned to beauty;
a beauty that worships Creator and Redeemer and Sustainer,
A guaranteed beauty, of hands and care and love,
of a never resigning Carpenter, a never sleeping Caretaker-
One who walks in the garden.

I am moved by you, Lord of heaven
and earth.
I am moved by your voice, by your presence, your creations.
I worship You.

The Healer unifies, the Healer repairs;
Was not My Spirit in this all?
I wait on you, I wait on You.
We wait, give weight, lean and dance.
You wait on me, and take my weight, all weight,
all wait, since in the beginning of time You knew,
and waiting, breath baited, to draw me in
and dance.  To wait, to breathe, to rest and look, to run.
Glorious indecision: the tension that pulls
into bend and swing, sling, slung into motion.
Lord, you lead, and I wait, and pull back,
and lean,
to be brought forward into greater things.

And I will be moved,
And I do not know;
Yet I am acquainted with your ways,
and am in relationship with the tension,
and I worship You.

Decision sprouts, and clarity grows
from nothing, to nearly nothing, to slightly less than something,
sharp moments of distinction-
death to life,
leaf or blade,
climb or crawl, or reach, stretch,
amidst waitings and hopings and unsureties.
I pray, Lord, I wait, as watchmen for the morning.

What life do you bring me,
as light from the dawn reaches through tree and through window
to wake me?
I am awake, aware, attentive.  I am waiting.
I am moved, moving, resting and walking to the Battery.
Order my steps.
Lead me in the way everlasting,
the wait everlasting;
the worshipful tension
of waiting upon you
forever.

-----

*Ben Thompson
**Lizzy Willingham

Frustration and Laughter

And I am frustrated once again.  I can feel my pride prickling, annoyed with little things.

But the biggest things, the things which frustrate me most, revolve around my Father.  The Big One.  Because I want my life to mean more than this!  I want to DO more than this.  I want to see hearts change and I want to see the kingdom come and I want to see His face.   And I want to want to see hearts change for the right reasons, and I want to want to see the kingdom come out of love and not for proof, and because I want to want to see His face, for love and not for a confidence booster. But instead I see beautiful girls and long to be accepted, to be satisfied.  Instead I see my capacity for sin, and the strength temptations possess.  I compare myself and find myself lacking, in skills, in joy, in position.  I see myself in a job that might just be a dead end.

And when I think about the things I want to do, the 'good' things, the things I 'should' do- even there I am weighing the scales, trying to prove to myself and to the world that I have been changed, that God changes us, that there is hope and a greater calling.  And I do so by working hard, by check-lists and self-denial.  Love is the purest fountain of worship- and yet I have so little, for man and for God.

I am frustrated because I must continually turn my eyes towards Jesus.  I am frustrated that they don't rest there naturally.

I am frustrated because my theology is not as simple as it once was, because I have been challenged well.  I am frustrated because I don't understand everything that seems important these days.

I am frustrated because some people think I am wasting my life, and because sometimes I feel like I am too.  Maybe I am overspiritualizing the decision to do whatever I do next.  But I'm also frustrated because I don't even know what I want to do next.

I'm frustrated by the loads of sin and hypocrisy around me in the church.  I can see so many failures, so much sin and pride and failure- but to call it out as harshly as I see it seems arrogant, and proud, and unhelpful.  Learning NOT to call out sin when I see it is hard, and I still don't trust my discernment there.  And then, of course, I see my own sin too.

I am frustrated because I have found I can't convince people of the Lord, not with wisdom or effort or service.

I am frustrated because, all that I am and all that I will be rests on the presence and prevenient grace of a suffering Lord.  I am frustrated because all that I desire to do and see, be and know, depends solely on the action of the Father.  And I am just not recognizing His hand as fast as I'd like.  I don't know what to do half the time, and there is so much to be done.  I am frustrated because everything I want to do and know and secure can only be done and known and secured by the work of a carpenter God in me, and for some reason it seems his favorite chisel is time.

And so I woke up this morning and prayed and read Zechariah.  And I read where it says, not by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit, says the Lord.  And I wrote it on my forearm in red, because I could not find the black permanent marker that I usually keep on my desk.  Seemed like a good thing to think some more about, and nothing else particularly jumped out at me.  And it was short enough to fit without being overly attention-grabbing.

So I wrote it on my arm, and thought of it once or twice while I made lattes and toasted bagels, and thought about the potential good in dating.  I was cut early from work, came home and sat on the sofa to read.  I picked up a book I've been working on for a few weeks, and I turned the page, and God spoke.

The author, the leader (sort of) of a global prayer movement, has a wife, and she has a tumor in her head.  It had been affecting her for years, but was undiagnosed until she began having seizures several years ago.  She still fights with it.  I had already read about that yesterday.

Aside from the comfort of a spiritual leader who suffers like the rest of us, my heart was met with something else.  The author said that the sufferring of his wife and his family caused him to step back from his ministry, and thrust upon him the realization that he was not to save the world.  And in fact he was honored by just the smallest of roles in the kingdom.  Indeed, he wrote, the army was rising, but not by might.  Nor by power.  But, by his Spirit.

And I laughed.  Out loud, by myself, I laughed.  Because the Lord had just answered my frustration, and offerred me joy, in such a way as I could not ignore.  All my striving, all my might, would lead no where, and I could force nothing.  Yet, the army comes- by the Spirit.  All things come by the Spirit.  And so I can rest, and wait, and trust.  And I can pursue all kinds of little things.  But the weight stands not on my power, but on the Lord.  And He can take it.  He can take it all, and turn it to good again.  All my frustration, He can turn to laughter.
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Things helpful in my walk with the Lord-
-Reading plan for scripture.  Gold.  The YearTeam year-long one is great.
-Books by Christians.  Currently, "Red Moon Rising,"  by Pete Greig and Dave Roberts.
-Permanent markers.  Black or red, no matter.  Green looks funny on your arm, and after a run, red looks like you're bleeding profusely.  Black is the safest bet there.