Waiting…
I’m going to be one of the subjects of a photo shoot my
friend is doing. The topic of the photo essay she is creating from all of these
pieces is “waiting”. She only asked me yesterday to be part of the process and
at first I was caught off guard—then I realized: ‘this is perfect.’
Not perfect in the sense that it will have no troubles and
will be exactly like heaven and Jesus (they are the few perfect things I know
of—really perfect). No, rather in the this-will-make-so-much-sense-to-do
because-it-is-who-I-have-become over the past few months, no, years.
It’s been years of waiting.
Years of wondering and trying to get by and failing and
asking for help from the only one who truly understands and can help me get
through this because all other resources fall short because they can’t see the
core of who I am and all I am going through…but…He does.
The relief of knowing Jesus—that is where I stand now. I
consider it not an exclusive place, but a sacred place, a place not every
person gets into, can fathom. Hope is so deep there that no matter what life
brings and the pain your soul may feel you keep pressing further, deeper into
all He has for you.
For you know that He is good—His faithful closeness to you
in the moments when you cried out have taught you that He is near always and to
be trusted. You know—deeply inside yourself, past all the doubts that try to
speak but have no authority anymore because He entered that place first and
proved Himself faithful before they ever started to shriek—you know He can be
trusted. You even know that He is good, crazy as it seems, uncertain as it
shows up in your life. You know who you are in Him—the wild goodness, dreams,
abilities, talents, loves of your soul—you know all those because He has taught
you who you are and what you love and He is the one who created you so we
always know that He knows best, even when it can seem ludicrous to us. Like,
for me, I am a Warrior Princess. I wave flags in worship, waging gentle war,
changing the atmosphere. I am a writer, a lover of children, an educator, a
dancer…distant, subtle dreams blooming under His care.
I will hike many miles in my lifetime—first here in
California along the PCT and eventually in Haiti where many live far up in
distant mountains and valleys (Haiti is a land once described as “mountains
upon mountains”) and we will walk to them, offering the good news of tremendous
love offered by Jesus Christ. I don’t know how, I don’t know when, but I
know—beyond what anyone could say of me or about me, who He has made me to be.
And He’s good.
And I’m good, as I hide myself in Him.
Now is waiting—but wondering, becoming, all that I need to
move forward and through all the years before me—is also being arranged and
birthed—really set to light in these years.
So if you are waiting…wondering…searching…I ask you to
search Him out.
Wait for Him.
Cry out to Him in the night, the moment where truth (the
truth of your life) becomes despair and you just need a Savior.
He will be there. He has always been there and will always
choose to be there.
Great love.
Died on a cross.
To save YOU.
My waiting is no longer fear—all trust. May it be the same
for you.
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