Sunday, April 22, 2012

Please Don't Tell Me I'm Wrong

As I try to make sense of this life I have - that God has given me, I struggle.  I'm not an unintelligent person.  I'm also not a genius.  And I know God confounds the most genius of geniuses.  But I've always thought I should be able to make some sense of things, with God's help.  When I don't, I figure God's help is eluding me.

But today (at least for this moment) I think...

  1. The things I experience (or don't experience) are for the furtherance of the Kingdom of God.
  2. The things I experience (or don't experience) are for my good.
  3. Items 1 and 2 are not mutually exclusive.  That is to say, when God is furthering His Kingdom, I'm not necessarily taking second place.  I'm not being pushed to the side for something or someone more important.  Somehow, I fit in to God's plan for His Kingdom.  Somehow, by His grace, I'm important to His plan.
  4. The "I'm important" part is NOT an egotistical position.  I AM important, because God made that way through Jesus.  It's nothing I did.
  5. I have no idea of how this all fits together.  I just pray it's biblical and that I can believe it two hours from now.

What's in a Name

Dear God,

You named me Barbara.  It means "stranger".  Looking back over the 50 years You have thus appointed to me, I have been a stranger.  Always on the fringe.  Never really included.  Never really connected.  I have to believe You have had a bigger reason for doing this.  Your word says you know the hairs on my head, you set out my steps before me, you love me as your child.  You have a plan for me - for my good, not harm.

When You did great things to people in the past, you changed their name - Abram to Abraham, Saul to Paul, etc.  Change my name.  Please.  Change me.

Some refer to times like this as being in the desert.  It only fits - the Israelites, Jesus - all experienced a desert, a dry time.  I different.  If the wet kleenex in my trash are any indication, I'm far from dehydrated.  I'm a flood of tears and emotion. 

Your word is true, I know that.  It is because of this that over 30 years ago I was able to commit my life to You.  But sometimes, as I recite these promises, they don't ring true.  They sound like just words.  I cling to the life preserver of Your Word and I stay afloat, but I'm still afraid as the waves of loneliness crash over me.  I'm looking for the rescue plane to fly overhead.