On an unremarkable night, after an unremarkable rainy day in a strange house in Cape Cod, I read a passage in Genesis ("I will watch over you wherever you go... I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you") in "Angry Conversations with God"- it was a passage passed to the author when she needed an answer about her life. It struck me like a ton of bricks- and I all the ideas that swirled in my head all month wound into one truth that shocked and knocked the wind out of me: I was refusing to give up a love of human things, to give up the few shards I had of God-like love that I could not hold onto (although I could try, and fixate on it for years- they were something I could see, could almost count on, almost...) when I could have the real thing- true real love, all of it, from God- the best and only kind of true love. I "just" had to give up everything that made me feel (falsely) secure and be willing to truly do everything God called me to do.
More shocking, I realized that 2 and a half years ago, God forcefully pulled me out of the spiritual pit, took me in His arms, and has been working to bring me to him- and until now, I thought I had been in a good place spiritually. And I suppose I had, comparatively, but it was not enough. What I ultimately realized, was that I never became Jesus' bride, I never married Jesus! I was never quite there, we were only engaged- I had asked him to come into my heart, but hadn't quite let him completely move in. Here I was, feeling I had really come into a good place with God, and I hadn't really let him in at all.
I was listening to a song that reflected on events in my life a year ago, but also moved with an urgent rhythm that pushed at now. I felt the urgency sink into my chest, as if, now that I realized the missing piece, I must, at this moment, give up everything and run flat out to God. I knew at that moment that I'd been running from God for a long time- always holding something back, always afraid to go the distance, like the "guy who won't commit."
And although this seems strange even to me, I felt there was an outstretched hand above me, waiting for me to grasp it. The song went on, threatening to run out and I wondered if God's offer could expire, not a comforting thought. But the moment I thought it, I knew it wasn't true, but the more I waited, the further I would drift away from His hand, and if I really loved Him, I would take His hand, urgently, this minute.
I kept trying to raise my hand from my side, but I balked. I thought of all I'd give up, I couldn't fathom it. I thought of all I'd have to do- I couldn't fathom doing it. I thought of who I'd have to be- I couldn't fathom being that strong. But the song went on with urgency, as if to say not to think of those things- to realize them- but not to think of them. I tried to move my hand, it felt dead at my side.
I thought of the man in "The Great Divorce" with Sin on his shoulder- knowing it would hurt to remove it, he couldn't fathom what it would mean to take it, he knew it would be hard, it would hurt, and he knew the more he thought about how difficult it would be, the more he would shy away. And the bright spirit pushed with urgency- how important it was that He kill it- the Sin- right there that minute. I felt wrong, not thinking out all of the consequences of my decision. But this man, he did not think, he knew in his heart the heavenly consequences, and knew earthly consequences meant nothing, so he let go.
And so, I grabbed on. I reached my hand above my head and grasped at heaven- I took a hand, pulling myself up, pulling Him into my heart, I told myself I could not look back,
and I was not afraid.
More shocking, I realized that 2 and a half years ago, God forcefully pulled me out of the spiritual pit, took me in His arms, and has been working to bring me to him- and until now, I thought I had been in a good place spiritually. And I suppose I had, comparatively, but it was not enough. What I ultimately realized, was that I never became Jesus' bride, I never married Jesus! I was never quite there, we were only engaged- I had asked him to come into my heart, but hadn't quite let him completely move in. Here I was, feeling I had really come into a good place with God, and I hadn't really let him in at all.
I was listening to a song that reflected on events in my life a year ago, but also moved with an urgent rhythm that pushed at now. I felt the urgency sink into my chest, as if, now that I realized the missing piece, I must, at this moment, give up everything and run flat out to God. I knew at that moment that I'd been running from God for a long time- always holding something back, always afraid to go the distance, like the "guy who won't commit."
And although this seems strange even to me, I felt there was an outstretched hand above me, waiting for me to grasp it. The song went on, threatening to run out and I wondered if God's offer could expire, not a comforting thought. But the moment I thought it, I knew it wasn't true, but the more I waited, the further I would drift away from His hand, and if I really loved Him, I would take His hand, urgently, this minute.
I kept trying to raise my hand from my side, but I balked. I thought of all I'd give up, I couldn't fathom it. I thought of all I'd have to do- I couldn't fathom doing it. I thought of who I'd have to be- I couldn't fathom being that strong. But the song went on with urgency, as if to say not to think of those things- to realize them- but not to think of them. I tried to move my hand, it felt dead at my side.
I thought of the man in "The Great Divorce" with Sin on his shoulder- knowing it would hurt to remove it, he couldn't fathom what it would mean to take it, he knew it would be hard, it would hurt, and he knew the more he thought about how difficult it would be, the more he would shy away. And the bright spirit pushed with urgency- how important it was that He kill it- the Sin- right there that minute. I felt wrong, not thinking out all of the consequences of my decision. But this man, he did not think, he knew in his heart the heavenly consequences, and knew earthly consequences meant nothing, so he let go.
And so, I grabbed on. I reached my hand above my head and grasped at heaven- I took a hand, pulling myself up, pulling Him into my heart, I told myself I could not look back,
and I was not afraid.
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