It’s not about houses, and families, and friends, and comfort, and jobs, and security, and logic, and location, and controversial blog posts. It’s not even about us. It’s about Him – our willingness to follow no matter the call, our readiness to obey regardless the cost, our desire to step into His Will for our lives, and our determination to trust despite fear.
Your greatest act of faith is not some big fancy power play with glitzy glamour and dramatic flare. Your greatest act of faith is when your surrendered heart can truthfully and humbly say, “Not my will, but Yours be done.”
There has to be more to life than merely existing to pay bills, raise good kids, maintain a well kept home, increase square footage, go to a nicely manicured church on Sunday, shop, take vacations, hang with friends on the weekend, volunteer, and retire in comfort.
Deep down in my heart of hearts I feel this gentle prompting assuring me that letting go of the “good life” is how I will find a great one.
There are days when I’m running on the treadmill and I don’t have it in me to run. There are days when I’m watching a World Famine commercial on TV…
You know when you’re walking down a road, you think you know where you’re going, and suddenly you realize you don’t? There are forks in the road, you don’t know which one is safe to take, and which isn’t. So where do you go? You could just stop walking, sit down in the road and hope life comes to you while you sit there. Or, you take a deep breath, say a prayer, and take one of the paths before you.
Trust is hard. Leaps of faith are scary. But sometimes – sometimes they lead you here. To safety. To unspeakable joys, to a life of gratitude you didn’t know was even possible.
It seems that some view faith as this heroic, close-your-eyes-and-jump sort of endeavour, that few people dare to try. That’s not me.
I admire people who blaze trails. But I identify more with faith that reluctantly shuffles towards the unknown while kicking and screaming.
I’m currently on such a journey.
I am following this sacred current that is pushing me to places I don’t want to go, feelings I don’t want to feel, and realities I don’t want to face. But it’s also leading me to discoveries I would have never made, surprises I would have missed out on, and courage I never knew I had.
We use this word so often in our everyday language.
I hope the kids clean up.
I hope it doesn’t snow.
I hope England wins the World Cup.
But do we use the word hope so often that we have lost reality with what it really is?
If our hope is something that can be replaced with, “I would like” instead of, “I pray”, then it shouldn’t be a priority to us. We need to reconsider what we are really hoping for.
I was lying in bed last night thinking about the hard adventure this last year and a half of my life has been. Some days have been beautiful. I have these moments of clarity where I see myself for the Christ-centred person I am becoming. Other days have been absolute disasters where I see myself for the puffy-bawl-fest that I truly am.
In other words, life is a roller coaster. One minute you’re floating on top of the clouds, the next you’re free falling into chaos…. and all anyone can do is get in, buckle up, hold on, and learn to see this roller coaster for what it is – a process, a journey, an adventure.