There are some conversations I have with myself that go around and around in a circle. I know exactly where they are going, but I still have them. I begin in the same place and end in the same place; I’m not learning anything new, and my inner self-talk is not incredibly stimulating, but there’s consistency, comfort, in the repetition.
I’m not teaching myself anything, but telling myself over and again lessons I’ve learned, lessons I’ve been taught, pushes them further into my mind, etches them deeper into my heart.
I know these truths, and cling to these truths, and I’m finding peace, finding strength, finding reason and purpose, in recycling them through my mind.
Today’s re-used self conversation was an old favorite. A familiar, creeping, uncertain string of thoughts that I swing round and round, forever attached to my wondering.
I just wish I could know exactly what I was supposed to do! The words echoed in the back of my consciousness, reverberating off the softening walls of my heart. Gathering strength, I suddenly find myself wishing passionately that God would break out the neon sign I’ve so wished for, and give me a little hint here.
I lingered on the thought for a moment or two, nearly savoring the futile desire, then I found my mind, almost automatically, pulling up the response. The memorized lines, the God-given truth that counteracts my purposeless wishing.
No, I found myself thinking, I don’t want some magical guidance, some crystal-clear snippet of a view into the future. I don’t want a neon sign swinging from a cloud in front of my face. Because then there’s no trusting God. And with that, life becomes incredibly boring.
Knowing what’s coming, knowing what I’ll do, what I’ll say, how she’ll respond, what he’ll do, makes me not a follower, not a truster, but a god. A decider. A know it all. And I don’t want to be that.
I want to trust God. I want to cling to the truth I have from Him, the words that He speaks, the words that He has spoken. I want to repeat what I believe about Him over and over, quieting my own heart with the still, cool water of a God whose grace knocks me over.
I come to it again and again, confused and hurting, circling around the desperate hope that God will just tell me what to do and how it’s all going to work out. I want to know the answer now, and I want to be sure that I’m doing the right thing.
But I don’t want to, never want to, exchange the comfort, the stability, of knowing what’s what, for the chance to see the God’s glory, God’s grace and mercy, portrayed in my life. I’d rather sit on the sand, huge waves crashing over me, bathing me in warm, rich grace and love and sovereignty, than stand in a desert, completely safe and completely alone.
I’d rather cling to the feet of a Lord I adore than fight my way in front of Him, working frivolously to try to get a grip on His will and what He’ll have me do.
I love Him and I trust Him and I can wait; following Him one step at a time.
Because even when I fall, He’s there to catch me; scoop me up and put me right back where I should be, in His hand.
~Natalia
