Oh, what a journey this thing called faith is...
Twelve years. Twelve years, perhaps more like thirteen, and today I still was challenged with the question of accepting Jesus' offer of sufficiency. Of accepting his righteousness, goodness, and truth as encompassing, strong, and big enough for what I need. And while perhaps the invitations weren't so clear twelve years ago in that manner of words, they certainly were four years ago, two years ago, even. Given in perfect clarity, to which I said Yes, with perfect expectation that I knew what I was saying yes to. And several more smaller invitations less clear or pointed, but nonetheless there, to choose to hear and accept Jesus's words of truth, spoken in small moments; accepted in murmured ascents, and whispered Amens.
And find in my soul an agony, an anxiety over how I could possibly still not have "actually" answered that most basic question. An anxiety over which the cause of the anxiety is the answer. That probably makes no sense...The anxiety is over my failure to acknowledge his sufficiency. The cure is the negation of that concern by accepting his sufficiency as enough to cover that failure.
Because his goodness has been transposed onto me. Because his sufficiency has been transposed onto me. I am enough because he is enough.
At the start of this new season, I am concerned, at points even depressed, over things like finding a community with whom I can laugh, over finding a friend with whom I can discuss this thing that is faith, over getting this vocation thing right. My challenge now is to wait expectantly. To trust God's process instead of determining to have it perfected now, or of despairing that it hasn't been. To say Yes, I trust you to support me in this season of change.
Which somehow spurs me to consider this IV volunteer app again. The staffworker here sent me an application over the summer, that I had delayed responding to, because I wasn't sure the opportunities here or the realities of my life as a grad student yet (and truthfully, I was scared of IV after things with my old area director). I was hoping for a far clearer direction once I got here. Right now, that "clear direction" might be an invitation to just use my gifts in a place that could use them, regardless of it being "the right thing." I may not have anything to offer a Greek chapter as an independent. I may not have the time to offer to create and lead bible studies. But I do have the heart to sit next to a girl on a couch on a Tuesday night, and talk. And at its heart, my call is that. My call is not to have answers or plans, but to be present to the lives of students. And truthfully, I need to do something. Perhaps my sense of stagnancy is a result of not participating in that. Ingrowing things, you know. And so maybe this is the cure: to step out and engage in my calling regardless of it fitting perfectly.
Because it's a process, and God's in charge.
Twelve years. Twelve years, perhaps more like thirteen, and today I still was challenged with the question of accepting Jesus' offer of sufficiency. Of accepting his righteousness, goodness, and truth as encompassing, strong, and big enough for what I need. And while perhaps the invitations weren't so clear twelve years ago in that manner of words, they certainly were four years ago, two years ago, even. Given in perfect clarity, to which I said Yes, with perfect expectation that I knew what I was saying yes to. And several more smaller invitations less clear or pointed, but nonetheless there, to choose to hear and accept Jesus's words of truth, spoken in small moments; accepted in murmured ascents, and whispered Amens.
And find in my soul an agony, an anxiety over how I could possibly still not have "actually" answered that most basic question. An anxiety over which the cause of the anxiety is the answer. That probably makes no sense...The anxiety is over my failure to acknowledge his sufficiency. The cure is the negation of that concern by accepting his sufficiency as enough to cover that failure.
Because his goodness has been transposed onto me. Because his sufficiency has been transposed onto me. I am enough because he is enough.
At the start of this new season, I am concerned, at points even depressed, over things like finding a community with whom I can laugh, over finding a friend with whom I can discuss this thing that is faith, over getting this vocation thing right. My challenge now is to wait expectantly. To trust God's process instead of determining to have it perfected now, or of despairing that it hasn't been. To say Yes, I trust you to support me in this season of change.
Which somehow spurs me to consider this IV volunteer app again. The staffworker here sent me an application over the summer, that I had delayed responding to, because I wasn't sure the opportunities here or the realities of my life as a grad student yet (and truthfully, I was scared of IV after things with my old area director). I was hoping for a far clearer direction once I got here. Right now, that "clear direction" might be an invitation to just use my gifts in a place that could use them, regardless of it being "the right thing." I may not have anything to offer a Greek chapter as an independent. I may not have the time to offer to create and lead bible studies. But I do have the heart to sit next to a girl on a couch on a Tuesday night, and talk. And at its heart, my call is that. My call is not to have answers or plans, but to be present to the lives of students. And truthfully, I need to do something. Perhaps my sense of stagnancy is a result of not participating in that. Ingrowing things, you know. And so maybe this is the cure: to step out and engage in my calling regardless of it fitting perfectly.
Because it's a process, and God's in charge.
