My back has been pushing against this wall I don't know the color of. I don't know its height, nor its depth, nor its length. I just know it is the only notion of space and time I have at this moment. My current residence has been what seems to be a corridor, the darker kind: no lights, no windows, no noises, no life. I can see nothing, hear nothing, move nothing, hold nothing. I move my fingers at times only to assure my brain cells that my limbs are still there though my eyes don't see them. I no longer recall a time when I was nothing but tired.
I warned you about this place before the summer showed up with all its fake stillness; I spoke it over many of you; I spoke it over me. I felt its shadow moving in, not needing the sun any longer. I received it in silence and prayed that you would too welcome it, let it wash over you, with all its bitter-sweet brokenness. I have no idea where your corridor might be (Africa, California, Florida, Mexico, Birmingham) or how long you have been in it; all I know is that you are not alone. We are here for you, cheering you on, believing that you will find the Light sitting next to you pushing against the same wall.
I was driving home from Wednesday worship service pondering on this story I read today in Luke, feeling my way around my walls when I felt Jesus saying: "You’ve missed Me. I have been here all along, right next to you, against this waiting wall...playing with your hair, singing songs of hope over you, speaking out faith while you sleep. You did not see me; you were too busy looking for a window, for the door at the end of the wall, for a sign, for a crack that would let some light in. All I wanted was to be still with you. I am the Light of the World. I AM all you need.”
I hope you get to hear that small voice beckoning you to do the same: to be still, to feel your way around your kind of corridor and find the pierced hands. Let Him sit with you in the fog. Stop living in tomorrow’s light. The light of the Truth, everything you need to know for now, is right there where you are. I can’t pretend the wait will be easy or that kissing your fears goodbye is a walk in the park, but I can assure you it will be worth it. He will to do the rest while you rest.
Your love found me this week; you sent it over from all the corners of the universe you are in. I felt it landing on my cheeks; I laughed with it. So, I decided to keep my promise; in spite of the dread of transparency -on the world wide web- I live with, here I am: blogging! I am doing it hoping to get you to be here with me, if not in this summer’ corridor I find myself in, then at least in my heart. I am dressing up my thoughts for you wishing I was there in your darkness, in your joy, in your stillness. Between the lines please hear me whisper: “be still and know He is.”
What brought this on was the realization that I was not only missing Jesus falling in love with me over and over again, but I was missing you falling in love. (Oh, my! What a drama queen I am sometimes! Who did not know that?) Here I am blowing bubbles in the rain while you are changing the world, in need of a hope float. Well, I am proud of all of you; you are falling in love the right way, with the right people and with the greatest purpose of all…..loving and serving in the deserts. You are getting to know a love beyond all knowledge! And I am more excited than I would be on a Tuesday night when everyone has read all the right chapters :)
Let’s see if we can help each other find that float for the next few summer months!
I want to leave you with a faith statement out of a text I want you to be thinking about: "Don't be afraid; just believe…" That is what Jesus told Jairus in Luke 8 while he made him wait and trust and..... not blow bubbles in the rain “no more”. Since he had no other choice, Jairus obeyed; I am praying you will too.
