I've heard that survivors of natural disasters say the event changed them forever. That they will never see life the same way again. That they cannot go back to the way things were before _________ happened.
How could you after experiencing something so incredible? So uncontrollable - So devastatingly powerful?
You would never be the same, right?
I've been pondering the idea that when some things happen to you, you're impacted forever.
Marriage, abuse, childbirth, loss of a loved one, intimate friendships/relationships, a chronic illness or serious injury, financial hardship, wealth, a long distance move, and the list goes on.
It's almost as if we are continually shaped and imprinted by the things we are exposed to. The significant things we experience, good or bad, change us...
Ha.
Maybe it's called growing up and I'm just now figuring it out.
But hold on, with all this shapeshifting going on, who's to determine whether I will be one person today and another entirely tomorrow, if and when a significant change comes into my life?
There has to be something significant working within the varied shaping and imprinting of these life events. Something that is trustworthy, consistent, and powerful enough to wield results in the journey and hold me together until I reach my destination.
This year has been one full of "shaping."
In January, before I had a chance to initiate the 2018 bucket list - (or create the bucket list) - my physical health jumped ship.
For those who know me...I have a thing about being able to have a healthy and functioning body, on my terms and in my own way. I need to be able to do what I need to do without being limited by physical weakness, and I need to be strong and fit while doing it all. Questions? Good. I thought it was simple enough.
I didn't anticipate the flu.
I didn't anticipate the car accident.
I didn't anticipate the longer-than-normal recovery.
I didn't anticipate mystery symptoms and internal medical issues surfacing immediately after the longer-than-normal recovery.
I didn't ask for any of this and I don't want it.
Having one of my pillars (physical health) shaken this year has given me a dose of grim reality that I didn't have before. See, I thought I could just power through...I thought I could bend my body to my will and force it beyond limits. I thought I just needed a few days to "sleep it off" and I'd be back in my jogging shoes. But that hasn't been my reality.
My reality has been limits that I don't like.
And it's shaped me.
Shaped my expectations, my emotions, my brain function (concussions do that I guess), my body, and my relationship with my Heavenly Father.
I believe God is good. But so much of my interactions with Him this year have been...well, to be honest...
Less than "warm and fuzzy."
I have seen God make life easier for me in the past. I have seen Him open doors and shower unexplainable over-the-top feel good gifts on me. I've had seasons where things just went right. I like those.
I like being a Daddy's girl and just enjoying His affection.
That was harder this year.
Because when I don't feel good physically, I don't feel good in the other areas. Can someone relate?
It's frustrating to try to read the Bible and journal when the pages make one dizzy and nauseated. (There's not a way to paint that with a pretty spiritual brush at 6:30am).
When you feel physically, emotionally, and mentally disconnected, how do you "feel" connected to God?
I want to be real, genuine, authentic, etc... with my Savior. But what if I am authentically just shut down and discouraged? Can he handle that? (Yes. The answer is yes).
My relationship with God waltzed into uncharted territory this year. I didn't anticipate what I experienced from His hand. I didn't anticipate what He allowed. Nor did I anticipate patient silence instead of soothing answers when I poured out my complaints.
"Umm... God. Excuse me. Please, are you there? We've talked about this. I need my health. I need my body to function. I need to go to work. I need to go to the gym. I need my brain...I need to feel something warm and fuzzy from YOU!!!"
I encountered a God I wasn't used to.
The God who says no.
The God whose priorities are there opposite of mine.
The God who doesn't sway His person because my person is having a personal crisis.
My favorite fictional series has always been the Chronicles of Narnia. (If you are not familiar, I highly recommend it).
This past year I've thought often of a quote from The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, where the children are hearing about Aslan, the King, for the first time from one of the local Narnians.
It's all well and good until they put two and two together and realize that Aslan is a TALKING LION - not a human.
The obvious question is blurted out:
Is He safe?
To which comes the reply that has been ringing in my mind as of late:
"Safe? ...Who said anything about safe? Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you."
Picturing myself as one of those shocked and nervous Pevensie children is about the best way I can think of to describe my interactions with God this year.
"Who said anything about safe?"
I've been forced in many uncomfortable ways to re-examine my expectations about God and how He chooses to care for His children.
At the risk of sounding incredibly callous and pessimistic... I'd like to share something:
God is Not safe the way that you think He is safe.
We typically think of safety as something that is physically tangible and/or comfortable. Neither of those things are promised in Scripture by God.
He has promised to be with you, and He has promised to be faithful, and He has promised to keep your soul safe through all eternity because you belong to Him.
But through the lens of this physical, tangible world, God is not safe. If you are counting on some sort of a promise that you will never experience physical damage or trial because of Him in your life, you're going to be severely shaken. He actually promises that those "unsafe" things will come.
Now, I know that for many of you this is not new information. It's not new information for me either. People go through tough things, that's normal. What's new for me, is being scary vulnerable with a God who allows it. I'm choosing to entrust my heart to Him, knowing that He knows full well the hard things that have come and will come.
There's something about that that sounds incredibly beautiful, but is incredibly painful and difficult, especially for someone who has experienced betrayal in the past.
To surrender yourself to a God who is so big and so powerful, and yet chooses to stand beside you, to hold you, to wait with you, instead of taking action to prevent the damage when you are suffering.
That's painful.
Especially when you have surrendered your heart and chosen to love and be loved by this God.
"Course He isn't safe. But He's good..."
I thought that I had God safely contained in a box. That in His incredible goodness, I understood what He would and would not do and how He would do it. That I could predict Him and trust Him in our relationship, because I really already knew how He was going to act.
I'm not really talking about circumstances either, friends. I'm talking about my relationship with the Creator of the universe. Even when circumstances went haywire I thought that I would be ok, if I had Him. The only problem was that I didn't "have Him" the way that I anticipated. He didn't show up the same way He had in the past. He didn't say that same things or use the same tone like I expected. He wasn't the image I had in my head.
He is good. But He is not safe.
He has not been controllable, tamable, or complying to meet my felt needs.
Now, I would like to be clear that God has not and does not and will not change. What I'm describing is not His spastic personality, but the fact that I had limited Him to a much smaller, tamer version than He is. And, well, my perspective has changed. I know Him in a way I did not before. That sounds lovely, but in reality it's a gritty, difficult, raw, and painful knowing season.
This has been my season of getting to know the Lion.
"...But he's good. He's the King, I tell you."
While this had been a difficult season of getting to know God, there has been a rock solid truth emerging that increases my hope and peace exponentially.
See, we need a Lion for a King.
If we dumb God down to a friendly Grandpa in the sky, He is ill-equipped to handle the ugliness of this world. We actually need a ferocious King who's strength overcomes when darkness attacks.
He is the only thing big enough to shape, to steady, to transform, through the imprinting and shifting of this life. Circumstances will change. I will change. But as long as He alone (not my false expectations) is the source of my hope, there is a steady thread of transformation through every season and life event. He is the common denominator. And because He is the Lion, I want Him to be the one thing working within the varied shaping and imprinting of these life events. Something that is trustworthy, consistent, and powerful enough to wield results in the journey and hold me together until I reach my destination.
I need Him to be for me all that He is and not all that I perceive Him to be. For it is not the image in my head that my soul cries out for, but the living God Himself - untamable, unchangeable, unshakeable.
I need the Lion.
When He is not what I desire Him to be.
When He does not move the way I wish.
When He withholds the quick fix or the easy out. When He allows the tears to fall.
When He doesn't provide the sign or the opportunity or open the door.
What will I think of Him then? Will I praise Him still? Will I still give Him open access to my heart? Or will the walls go up, afraid to ask, to trust and be disappointed?
This is vulnerability.
This is what He asks of me.
"Safe? ...Who said anything about safe? Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you."
How could you after experiencing something so incredible? So uncontrollable - So devastatingly powerful?
You would never be the same, right?
I've been pondering the idea that when some things happen to you, you're impacted forever.
Marriage, abuse, childbirth, loss of a loved one, intimate friendships/relationships, a chronic illness or serious injury, financial hardship, wealth, a long distance move, and the list goes on.
It's almost as if we are continually shaped and imprinted by the things we are exposed to. The significant things we experience, good or bad, change us...
Ha.
Maybe it's called growing up and I'm just now figuring it out.
But hold on, with all this shapeshifting going on, who's to determine whether I will be one person today and another entirely tomorrow, if and when a significant change comes into my life?
There has to be something significant working within the varied shaping and imprinting of these life events. Something that is trustworthy, consistent, and powerful enough to wield results in the journey and hold me together until I reach my destination.
This year has been one full of "shaping."
In January, before I had a chance to initiate the 2018 bucket list - (or create the bucket list) - my physical health jumped ship.
For those who know me...I have a thing about being able to have a healthy and functioning body, on my terms and in my own way. I need to be able to do what I need to do without being limited by physical weakness, and I need to be strong and fit while doing it all. Questions? Good. I thought it was simple enough.
I didn't anticipate the flu.
I didn't anticipate the car accident.
I didn't anticipate the longer-than-normal recovery.
I didn't anticipate mystery symptoms and internal medical issues surfacing immediately after the longer-than-normal recovery.
I didn't ask for any of this and I don't want it.
Having one of my pillars (physical health) shaken this year has given me a dose of grim reality that I didn't have before. See, I thought I could just power through...I thought I could bend my body to my will and force it beyond limits. I thought I just needed a few days to "sleep it off" and I'd be back in my jogging shoes. But that hasn't been my reality.
My reality has been limits that I don't like.
And it's shaped me.
Shaped my expectations, my emotions, my brain function (concussions do that I guess), my body, and my relationship with my Heavenly Father.
I believe God is good. But so much of my interactions with Him this year have been...well, to be honest...
Less than "warm and fuzzy."
I have seen God make life easier for me in the past. I have seen Him open doors and shower unexplainable over-the-top feel good gifts on me. I've had seasons where things just went right. I like those.
I like being a Daddy's girl and just enjoying His affection.
That was harder this year.
Because when I don't feel good physically, I don't feel good in the other areas. Can someone relate?
It's frustrating to try to read the Bible and journal when the pages make one dizzy and nauseated. (There's not a way to paint that with a pretty spiritual brush at 6:30am).
When you feel physically, emotionally, and mentally disconnected, how do you "feel" connected to God?
I want to be real, genuine, authentic, etc... with my Savior. But what if I am authentically just shut down and discouraged? Can he handle that? (Yes. The answer is yes).
My relationship with God waltzed into uncharted territory this year. I didn't anticipate what I experienced from His hand. I didn't anticipate what He allowed. Nor did I anticipate patient silence instead of soothing answers when I poured out my complaints.
"Umm... God. Excuse me. Please, are you there? We've talked about this. I need my health. I need my body to function. I need to go to work. I need to go to the gym. I need my brain...I need to feel something warm and fuzzy from YOU!!!"
I encountered a God I wasn't used to.
The God who says no.
The God whose priorities are there opposite of mine.
The God who doesn't sway His person because my person is having a personal crisis.
My favorite fictional series has always been the Chronicles of Narnia. (If you are not familiar, I highly recommend it).
This past year I've thought often of a quote from The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, where the children are hearing about Aslan, the King, for the first time from one of the local Narnians.
It's all well and good until they put two and two together and realize that Aslan is a TALKING LION - not a human.
The obvious question is blurted out:
Is He safe?
To which comes the reply that has been ringing in my mind as of late:
"Safe? ...Who said anything about safe? Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you."
Picturing myself as one of those shocked and nervous Pevensie children is about the best way I can think of to describe my interactions with God this year.
"Who said anything about safe?"
I've been forced in many uncomfortable ways to re-examine my expectations about God and how He chooses to care for His children.
At the risk of sounding incredibly callous and pessimistic... I'd like to share something:
God is Not safe the way that you think He is safe.
We typically think of safety as something that is physically tangible and/or comfortable. Neither of those things are promised in Scripture by God.
He has promised to be with you, and He has promised to be faithful, and He has promised to keep your soul safe through all eternity because you belong to Him.
But through the lens of this physical, tangible world, God is not safe. If you are counting on some sort of a promise that you will never experience physical damage or trial because of Him in your life, you're going to be severely shaken. He actually promises that those "unsafe" things will come.
Now, I know that for many of you this is not new information. It's not new information for me either. People go through tough things, that's normal. What's new for me, is being scary vulnerable with a God who allows it. I'm choosing to entrust my heart to Him, knowing that He knows full well the hard things that have come and will come.
There's something about that that sounds incredibly beautiful, but is incredibly painful and difficult, especially for someone who has experienced betrayal in the past.
To surrender yourself to a God who is so big and so powerful, and yet chooses to stand beside you, to hold you, to wait with you, instead of taking action to prevent the damage when you are suffering.
That's painful.
Especially when you have surrendered your heart and chosen to love and be loved by this God.
"Course He isn't safe. But He's good..."
I thought that I had God safely contained in a box. That in His incredible goodness, I understood what He would and would not do and how He would do it. That I could predict Him and trust Him in our relationship, because I really already knew how He was going to act.
I'm not really talking about circumstances either, friends. I'm talking about my relationship with the Creator of the universe. Even when circumstances went haywire I thought that I would be ok, if I had Him. The only problem was that I didn't "have Him" the way that I anticipated. He didn't show up the same way He had in the past. He didn't say that same things or use the same tone like I expected. He wasn't the image I had in my head.
He is good. But He is not safe.
He has not been controllable, tamable, or complying to meet my felt needs.
Now, I would like to be clear that God has not and does not and will not change. What I'm describing is not His spastic personality, but the fact that I had limited Him to a much smaller, tamer version than He is. And, well, my perspective has changed. I know Him in a way I did not before. That sounds lovely, but in reality it's a gritty, difficult, raw, and painful knowing season.
This has been my season of getting to know the Lion.
"...But he's good. He's the King, I tell you."
While this had been a difficult season of getting to know God, there has been a rock solid truth emerging that increases my hope and peace exponentially.
See, we need a Lion for a King.
If we dumb God down to a friendly Grandpa in the sky, He is ill-equipped to handle the ugliness of this world. We actually need a ferocious King who's strength overcomes when darkness attacks.
He is the only thing big enough to shape, to steady, to transform, through the imprinting and shifting of this life. Circumstances will change. I will change. But as long as He alone (not my false expectations) is the source of my hope, there is a steady thread of transformation through every season and life event. He is the common denominator. And because He is the Lion, I want Him to be the one thing working within the varied shaping and imprinting of these life events. Something that is trustworthy, consistent, and powerful enough to wield results in the journey and hold me together until I reach my destination.
I need Him to be for me all that He is and not all that I perceive Him to be. For it is not the image in my head that my soul cries out for, but the living God Himself - untamable, unchangeable, unshakeable.
I need the Lion.
When He is not what I desire Him to be.
When He does not move the way I wish.
When He withholds the quick fix or the easy out. When He allows the tears to fall.
When He doesn't provide the sign or the opportunity or open the door.
This is vulnerability.
This is what He asks of me.
"Safe? ...Who said anything about safe? Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you."
No comments:
Post a Comment