I want to be careful not to get in the habit of writing victorious and upbeat blog-posts that come towards the end of one of God's lessons. Doing so, whilst seeming like it celebrates God (and true it does) paints a rather biased picture that the whole of my faith looks like this; like a baton being passed from one warm lesson to another. Tonight, with my eyes wet and red in that tell-tale way, and past the hour I ought to have gone to bed at, I want to write about the middley part of walking with God. The part where the ending is still all blurry and when faith is at its ficklest. Right here, I feel stuck. I daydreamed a few days ago, seeing myself hanging with my hands gripping a high bar, letting go and soon being caught by God before I reached harm. This adequately depicts where I'd say I am now, in the free-fall part, waiting for the reassurance of the catch. But the thing is, I feel like I've been in this free-fall part for a while now, for long enough actually. I hope in God's guidance that as January 2014 begins I will join a photography school with YWAM, backpacking 5 continents for 18 months. I've grown to feel sure that this is His desire for me, and yet I know awfully little about the school. I don't know the where's, the when's, who I'll meet or how I'll meet them. I don't know what comes after the school or whether I'll have all I need to finish it at all. I don't know what visas I need, or what injections. I don't know how long I've got left at home with my family, I just don't know. Oh I am so impatient, I vaguely remember asking God in the past to teach me patience, but I thought He'd do it quicker than this. Whilst I shouldn't hide that at the moment choosing faith feels naive, vulnerable and uncomfortable, it is far better and sweeter than beginning to fathom a plan that doesn't incorporate God's. And so from here I write to you, dear reader, wherever you are, with my faith like dental floss. I hope and I wait, trusting that if God pulls this off, it'll be one of the best lessons yet.
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
FAITH LIKE FLOSS
I want to be careful not to get in the habit of writing victorious and upbeat blog-posts that come towards the end of one of God's lessons. Doing so, whilst seeming like it celebrates God (and true it does) paints a rather biased picture that the whole of my faith looks like this; like a baton being passed from one warm lesson to another. Tonight, with my eyes wet and red in that tell-tale way, and past the hour I ought to have gone to bed at, I want to write about the middley part of walking with God. The part where the ending is still all blurry and when faith is at its ficklest. Right here, I feel stuck. I daydreamed a few days ago, seeing myself hanging with my hands gripping a high bar, letting go and soon being caught by God before I reached harm. This adequately depicts where I'd say I am now, in the free-fall part, waiting for the reassurance of the catch. But the thing is, I feel like I've been in this free-fall part for a while now, for long enough actually. I hope in God's guidance that as January 2014 begins I will join a photography school with YWAM, backpacking 5 continents for 18 months. I've grown to feel sure that this is His desire for me, and yet I know awfully little about the school. I don't know the where's, the when's, who I'll meet or how I'll meet them. I don't know what comes after the school or whether I'll have all I need to finish it at all. I don't know what visas I need, or what injections. I don't know how long I've got left at home with my family, I just don't know. Oh I am so impatient, I vaguely remember asking God in the past to teach me patience, but I thought He'd do it quicker than this. Whilst I shouldn't hide that at the moment choosing faith feels naive, vulnerable and uncomfortable, it is far better and sweeter than beginning to fathom a plan that doesn't incorporate God's. And so from here I write to you, dear reader, wherever you are, with my faith like dental floss. I hope and I wait, trusting that if God pulls this off, it'll be one of the best lessons yet.