Friday, May 2, 2014

when you're waiting on god and desperate for him

I have become like one who does not hear,
whose mouth can offer no reply.
Lord, I wait for you;
 you will answer, Lord my God.
For I said, “Do not let them gloat
    or exalt themselves over me when my feet slip.
-Psalm 38:14-19

He will cover you with his feathers,
   and under his wings you will find refuge;
  his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.
You will not fear the terror of night,
nor the arrow that flies by day,
nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness,
    nor the plague that destroys at midday.
A thousand may fall at your side,
    ten thousand at your right hand,
    but it will not come near you.
-Psalm 91:4-7

I am a woman who wears her heart on her sleeve. I love frank replies, reality laced with dark humor, and the honest beauty of a vulnerable life.

And yet, I can't seem to answer simple questions this week.

Don't ask me how I'm doing, I won't know what to say, and I will say something about a broken bathtub or my kids or the squash on the counter that would make a nice casserole.

Keep the conversation light, and I will kiss your face. Because I am frozen with anticipation and desperate faith as I wait for God to answer six or seven prayers.

This is how I wait for Him. This is how I roll into a silent ball and let the feathers of His merciful safety cover my soul in peace.

I smile and I bake. I paint the porch and read ancient words of hope. I sing of His deep love for a wretch like myself as I stand on a mountain with the wind of His Spirit blowing on my face.

I take my children to the park and I write stories of women who swim through rough surf to find out who they are meant to be. I let my own longing for Him wash over the people I am called to love and serve.

I hand $20 to the man with a sign on the corner, and I know I am handing Jesus my heart as that money hangs out the window waiting for dirty hands to take it and a weather beaten face to smile at me.

I look at clouds in the wide Texas sky above cars with real people waiting for green lights, and I can feel His great love for all of this that He has made and it is good. It is all so very, very good.

I am waiting and He is here, He is good and true and can't be missed by hearts that hunger and minds that thirst for Him.

We are not of those who shrink back, we are not of those who do not need a Savior. We are the blessed ones, who watch and wait, who love and serve, who break and pour out, who rest and worship. We are those who will find Him on the streets, in the coffee houses, on the front row of Sunday morning, and in the back alleys of Friday nights.

We wait and He comes.

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