Thursday, December 16, 2010
THE VIEW FROM HERE
It's so quiet in my life it is deafening. I can hear every thought. I can feel every feeling from my lifetime. I can see all the pieces of me. I can see God in all of it, across my life, wanting more, wanting to give me more, show me more...wanting me to quit having to know, be right, figure it out, exercise my rights based on injustice to me, to quit subjectively determining what is good for myself and what is bad, to fully trust Him without anything but being so absorbed in His love for me that I would be willing to let loose of my life - not for an instant, in this or that circumstance, when my back is shoved to a wall - but like breathing - completely. What I saw I both did not like about myself and yet loved about God all at the same time. I did not feel condemnation for falling short of knowing God differently or more fully at times, nor did I feel impatience from God for my human journey of fight and slowness in seeing Him. Looking differently, through God's lens, at my life - I saw both my failings at each turn and God's desire for me. He viewed what was good and purposeful in my life clearly totally different than I did. Good had many forms to God some of which seemed painful to me. I was again viewing God with humanness. It appeared that I was not always fully aware there was so much more of me to give up at every turn, to let loose to the secureness and completeness of God's love for me. God is so big and my humanity so small that I only get Him in chunks at a time it seems. My heart broke with the visual of how I had tried, but even in trying, couldn't see Him clearly through my human scope. I didn't like the me I saw. What I saw was a lifetime of hurt and fighting through it. I was tired and obviously unsuccessful at maneuvering it and without a doubt viewing it wrongly. Laid out in the bathtub after running, my brokenness of a lifetime let loose. It seemed to be more than crying, more than sorrow and grief, more than anger, more than disappointment in myself, more than hurt, more than regret - it was broken surrender to the completeness of God's love for me. I didn't have to fight through hurt, circumstances, relationships, myself, desires, dreams, longings, grief, regrets, needs and wants. God longed just for me and wanted me to know His love for me, I mean really know it. Only then would I trust Him in all things seen and unseen. Only when I could get the love God had for me more fully and richly would I quit trying to fight through everything in my life past, present and future. I needed to stop having to have everything make sense or be good according to Lynn's view of what is deemed good in my life. I needed to live where nothing made sense, except the bigness and fullness of God's love for me as the full and complete backdrop for trusting Him and for living life.
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2 comments:
Sometimes Lynn, as Stephen Levine once said, "There is nothing to do but be." God's continued peace and grace be with you.
God's prolly sayin' "Lynn, I love you! No, I really love you!!"
I love you too!
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