"Crazy - Filled to Overflowing with Adventure, Risk, and Emotion"

June 14, 2013

I sit here and stare at my computer screen. My eyes just want to close. How to pray, what to pray, nothing is clear – just a jumbled mess of thoughts and feelings and an overwhelming sense of tiredness. The last two days haven’t been bad, just busy – filled with good things, things that needed done, but maybe filled too full. I’ve spent a lot of time with my husband side-by-side, but we haven’t gotten a lot of face-to-face time, and I miss that. I’m really excited about our date night tonight.

I feel like I’ve failed a lot over the past two days – for one thing, my practical preparedness has been lacking immensely (forgetting Noah’s bed, forgetting to pump up the volleyball, failing to plan out what we need for the day resulting in rushed, hurried, stressful mornings). Quadrant two has been neglected. And I need to get back to a level of functioning that allows me to prioritize the most important things in order to live a smoother day.

Thoughts are still jumbled.  I want to pray for my family. I want to submit this day to You. I want to discover exactly what it is on my heart this morning, and I want you to take control of the deep places, the scary corners that I don’t understand.

For a while, I feel like You’ve been doing a great work in my life. Helping me to focus on gratefulness, service, walking in the Spirit. The walking itself does not eliminate the chaos of the day, but helps me to learn how to react and respond to it differently than I used to. I don’t think this matched up with my original picture of walking in the Spirit. I had the sense that if I were to be walking step by step with You, my life would miraculously transform into this bed of roses and everything would be walking on sunshine. My problems would disappear and any circumstances that were not ideal would be swept into glorious graces.

Reality has shown me that the truth of the matter is that life is hard, and when we are walking with the Spirit, sometimes life gets harder. What I mean is that our enemy doesn’t like to see us learning how to live like Christ. If we are going to be believers, he wants to keep us as complacent and minimally effective as possible.   If there’s one thing he hates more than a Christ Follower, it’s a Christ Follower on Fire!

Part of me might want to get discouraged, say walking with the spirit is too much work. I’m encountering more trials now than I ever did when I wasn’t trying as hard. Life was easier when I was just coasting. But what is coasting? Just waiting for the end? What kind of life is that?

If I really want to LIVE and I mean LIVE this life to the fullest, experiencing each moment as a gift that it is and giving all the glory back to God, I have to be willing to struggle, suffer, sacrifice. Ken Davis puts it this way, ... And a life that is truly alive is not “safe, comfortable, passive, and predictable, but crazy—filled to overflowing with adventure, risk, and emotion.”  That’s the kind of life I want to be living.

So I choose right now the struggle. Lord, I know nothing comes my way unless it is sifted through your fingers first, and you have already provided the grace that I need to make it through each moment.

I choose right now to suffer because in suffering, we are made aware of our weaknesses and if we persevere, we come out on the other side stronger. In this world I will have trouble, but I will take heart for my Savior has already overcome the world.

And I choose right now sacrifice because that’s what You chose for me. You paid the ultimate price to call me your child, and You are deserving of every ounce of strength I have every single day for the rest of my life. I will give You my best! I will give You my heart even if it costs me my life! Because that’s the life I want – one that is fully alive (the only way I can be truly alive) in You!

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To risk? To Dance Again?

I found them in the corner hidden in the darkness, covered by the uniforms that have defined my life over the past several years. I pulled them out and held them up to the light trying to remember their former glory. I inhale deeply, coughing as I choke on the dust. I blow swiftly across them - a tornado of powdered dirt swirls in the wake of my breath.

They were blush pink at one point, weren't they? The silky ribbon laces no longer hold the gleam they once did. The light now absorbed from neglect rather than reflected. Finding a rag, I pick it up and start rubbing vigorously - a desperation of sort has overtaken me! In my haste, dust fills the room, burns my eyes; I glance away. It's hard to breathe, and I am tempted to forget the whole thing.

As the dust settles, I catch a glimpse of the side I was cleaning . . . soft, pink, satin fabric is now evident. I turn it over in my hand noting the pointed shape, the hard toe, the leather soul. I continue about my work, more carefully this time out of consideration for both my own sanity as well as the fragility of the fabric I'm working with.

As I carefully wipe off each ribbon, I look inside and memories come back unbidden. The blisters, oh, the blisters! And how many times I had fallen. No, grace was not natural for me. My toes bled, my muscles ached, and I was insecure before others as I walked around on pointe'.

I'm half tempted to pretend I never even found them - to shove them back in their deep corner with the cob webs. But then a light in my mind started just a s a glimmer then grew akin to daylight - Amidst the pain, I was alive, alive and free! I was who I was created to be. I lifted my treasure up and held them to the light. Was I brave enough? Was it worth the risk? Would I tie on my ballet slippers once again?

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