Half the time, if you don't hear from
me, it's because my head is under water. Not the real, liquid type
that gets in your ears and nose and makes your vision blurry, but the
other kind. The murky water of life that gets in your ears and nose
and makes your vision blurry. The kind that makes it hard to see
where you're going and even harder to communicate that to someone.
When your head's under water, it's hard to talk,... and if you do,
it's hard for anyone to understand you. So if you don't understand
this post, don't worry... it's because my head is under water.
On one hand, maybe that's a good thing
because maybe, just maybe, I'm finally submerged in that glorious
river to which Ezekiel 47 refers, in that cryptic passage about the
river that comes out of the temple of God and runs deeper and deeper
until you can only cross it swimming.
Or, maybe I'm not.
It sure doesn't feel like I'm being
swept along by the Spirit of God, it just feels like I'm being pulled
under. If it's the Spirit of God sweeping me
along, then I'm humbly grateful. If it's the worries and cares of
this life, if it's my like-a-top constantly spinning mind trying to
figure out the whys and hows of life, if it's a wrong turn in the
path, or a character flaw that God is trying to purify out of my
slow-to-learn heart, then I wouldn't mind getting out of this whirling
eddy and sit on the bank for a while.
These last few
months have given me ample material for rumination. Nothing
earth-shattering, like death in the family, or similar tragedies. Just a
steady stream of unfortunate coincidences that have turned into a
rushing torrent in my mind, and made me question which side is up.
Four teams have failed to appear this year, two of which informed us of
their inability/decision not to come, and two who just dropped
communication altogether, no warning or explanation given. It gave me that same eerie sensation that I had as a child when I'd come home
from school and no one would be there. I would be ok at first, then
would start to wonder paranoically if the rapture had occured and I
had been left behind... The paranoia that
creeps in under these circumstances is a sneaky suspicion that God is
telling people, “don't go to Peru with Crystal, because... (fill in
any number of reasons here)”
Now blend that with a visa
that just refuses to be renewed, a diploma that continues to come
back to me in Latin (this would require much more explanation), and
patterns that I see repeating themselves in the personal realm
(miscommunication, strained friendships and my aforementioned
tendency to paranoia)... and I'm starting to wonder if perhaps --I
really am the problem--. Confrontation and conflict resolution have
never been strong suits of mine. I know I could use more work on
those skills and lately I have been steadily presented with multiple
opportunities to pare those skills toward perfection. Selfishness and
self-pity, and a sense of
futile inadequacy have also risen to the surface of this cesspool.
God saying “no” to going home to my brother's wedding, the death
of a dear pastor's wife here in Nauta, the knowledge that
there are pastors who talk about me disparagingly behind my back (who
DOES that, going about bearing tales?)
and so on. All of which add together to lend a unsettling sense of
being adrift in a troubled sea. What's going on, God?
The waters closed in over
me to take my life;
the deep surrounded me;
weeds were wrapped about
my head
Jonah. I must confess he has
been a recurring theme in my life in the past. But I don't think I am
trying to run from God's will right now... it's just rather murky,
and currently indecipherable to me.
I resonate more with Psalms 42:7
Deep calls to deep
at the roar of your
waterfalls;
all your breakers and
your waves
have gone over me.
And the same Psalm
repeatedly voices,
Why are you cast down, O
my soul,
and why are you in
turmoil within me?
Hope in God; for I shall
again praise him,
my salvation and my God.
Yet. I am convinced of this.
That He who began a good work in me will be faithful to bring it
through to completion. Today the birds are belting out their joy and
praises to the king. There is much to do, but He who does the work is
faithful. He is. And will continue to be.
“...if we are
faithless, he remains faithful—for he cannot deny himself.”
II Timothy 2:13
He drew me up from the
pit of destruction,
out of the miry bog,
and set my feet upon a
rock,
making my steps secure.
-
Psalms 40:2
Come, let us lift up our
hands to the Father of Lights, and the Author of Life and cry out
with the Psalmist,
from the end of the earth
I call to you
when my heart is faint.
Lead me to the rock
that is higher than I,
-
Psalms 61:2
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