My fencepost

We throw tantrums when we don't get our way. We cry out to God, we withhold ourselves...as if He didn't have access to every single thought, memory or emotion. We give Him the silent treatment.

The last month I've sat on the fencepost, neither committing myself to one backyard or another. I sat and contemplated what God's perfect will would look like for me, and what actions would be most honoring to Him. BUT, in all honesty, I didn't think about honoring Him as much as I simply closed myself off to Him and everyone else that had a chance at getting close to me. Really, I just wanted to vegetate and WILL the perfect outcome into being. It doesn't work that way.

I haven't sent an email to Mars Hill because I am afraid that an email will make the "not right now" so final and so permanent. Even as I decided to apply to non-profit jobs (what I'd really like to pour my time and effort into), I haven't applied to more than 3. What's the deal? I don't want to close the door on Seattle, but I'm not exactly moving swiftly forward either. What is the problem?

Moments of Silence

It's easy to trust Him when everything around you is perfect and all is smooth sailing...but what about when your world is at a complete standstill and your hope is crushed? What do you do when despair and sadness clog your throat and you can barely breathe past the hurt? It is then that I return to the moment when I heard God speak...when I knew He was leading and guiding me. What did He say back in April? Be still, be silent and be reverent.

It's been a week -- an interminably long week -- since I heard from Sovereign that they had decided to hire someone who had more back-office experience. They wanted someone who preferred to interface more with a computer and numbers than with people. Yes, I cognitively realize that I would have been miserable in that job, but I feel wrecked. The DTP is rolling on without me...and here I am...an awful job situation, an unpleasant living situation, with everything at it's usual humdrum Bay Area pace.

On Sunday, Pastor Meekins preached about Jesus and the calling of the disciples. In the story, Jesus arrives on the banks as the fisherme are coming back in from a long night with no luck. Jesus advises them to go back out and cast their nets on the other side. These men were fishermen, they'd been out all night, they were exhausted. But more than that, they knew what they were doing, they'd done it hundreds of times before. I'm sure that they cognitively realized that they had done everything that they could do and still had come back empty-handed. Jesus tells them to go out again and do the preposterously simple thing, throw their nets on the other side. He is asking me to do the same thing after I have come back from a "long night" of casting out my nets with nothing to show.

The worst part of this process has been the questions that keep coming up in me. The questions that I have never allowed myself to ask or to explore: the questions that require me to know myself and the fears that lurk deep within. The crux, "Is this all that You have for me?" I am not a person that cries, but I have cried over that question...and I HATE that I have even thought it and yes, continue to think it even now. I know that He is good...that His perfect will brings shalom into our lives. My mind knows it, even though my heart is crushed. But, there are days when He does not speak to me, when it is silent. No matter where He takes me, there will always be times of silence.

I was sure by now

That You would have reached down

And wiped our tears away
Stepped in and saved the day

But once again I say "Amen," and it's raining

As the thunder rolls

I barely hear You whisper through the rain

"I'm with you"

And as Your mercy falls

I raise my hands and praise the God who gives

And takes away

I'll praise You in this storm

And I will lift my hands

For You are who You are

No matter where I am

Every tear I've cried

You hold in Your hand

You never left my side

And though my heart is torn

I will praise You in this storm

I remember when

I stumbled in the wind

You heard my cry

You raised me up again

My strength is almost gone

How can I carry on

If I can't find You

I lift my eyes unto the hills

Where does my help come from?

My help comes from the Lord

The Maker of Heaven and Earth

No matter where I am, You are who You are. I will testify to His grace and His loving kindness all the days of my life! That I would not be like a recalcitrant child when things do not go my way: trusting Him in the face of adversity, when things look dim, and when your present circumstances are ensnaring...that's when having faith is the hardest! I will put my trust in Him.