Thursday, June 21, 2018

An Ode to Messiness


Clutter.  Getting lost.  Conflicting schedules.  Uncertainty.  Risk.  Maybe.  Possibly.  These are words that make me nervous, afraid, vulnerable, and more than a little bit anxious.  I like things in their place, everything tied up in a neat little package, all the i's dotted and the t's crossed, all the ducks in a row, with no stone left unturned.  I am the kind of person who finds happiness in lists, ecstasy in color-coded schedules, and who celebrates when that last bit of toothpaste is gone and I can finally throw out the used up tube and open a new one.  When we go on vacation, I plan it months in advance, and I buy trip insurance just in case something happens.   In my perfect (albeit imaginary) world, there are no loose ends.  Everything is planned out, there is a rhyme AND a reason for it all, and just because I don't understand it all right now does not mean there is chaos.  I am not in control, and I know that, I am okay with that--I think.  But the human part of me wants to know how it all ends!   Mind you, I am not saying I want to fix everything, or that I can even fix anything.  I just want to know my place in it all.  And know that my efforts are not being wasted.  

Thus is my quandary in not knowing if people I love are destined for heaven, part of the family of Christ.  And I do not say this or think this out of some misplaced sense of superiority or know-it-all-ness.  Far from it!  I know how lost  and sinful and undeserving of God's grace I am, regardless of what I say or do or think.  But I also know, without a shadow of a doubt, that I am chosen, selected, saved, adopted, redeemed, and set aside as His--as Christ's.  I will have the glorious privilege of worshipping him for eternity.  And BECAUSE I know this with such assurance, I of course want everyone I love to share it with me.  Not because I want to be right, or to prove a point.  But because it is so freaking amazing and wonderful to know I am His.  So, I share His love, and let Him mold me and make me into something He can use in His purpose, but I still want to peek behind the curtain and see how it all turns out, you know, like buy some trip insurance so I know everyone I love will be there with me.  

That didn't seem like that big of a problem when I was 7, or 20, or even 40.  Everything would work out, I figured.  Or I would just cynically shrug my shoulders and focus on my own immediate need for sanctification.  But the older I get, the more I grow in His grace and His truths, the more desperate I become to make a difference.  To reach out a hand, throw out a life preserver, toss them a rope.  The double edged sword of experience and aging is that as my earthly life goes on, the less time I realize I have to make a difference.  And the more people who enter my life, the more people I love and cannot even bear to think of not sharing in this joy.  

Trusting God with my path, with my life, is one thing.  

Trusting Him with the paths of the ones I love is something far more complicated.

Lord give me the eyes to see the world as You see it, and the faith to lean on You and trust only You.  Without judging.  Without expectations.  Hoping only in You.




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