a couple days ago, the wife wrote about a trip we're getting ready to take - we actually hit the road in a couple hours - and a little bit about the reason for the trip and how it all came to be. as she so well iterated, we're immensely excited about the opportunity to 1) learn from those who have cleared a path in the world of writing and publishing, and 2) see someplace completely new to us!
there's no need for me to do here what she has so ably already done, but i've a thought that won't let me go, and sometimes the only thing for it is to let it breathe.
it's funny how God uses life to prepare us for life. i'm a man who is often given to great expectations. and while i do have wonderful, lofty, exuberant expectations for the next few days, i can feel the Spirit gently reminding me that i'm not called to chart a course, i'm called to follow it; i'm not called to harness or to be the wind, i'm called to go where e'er it blows.
looking back, i can recall countless moments in my life when i was sure i understood what was happening, when i knew that A was happening because B was sure to follow. B almost always represented (and it still does, a great deal of the time) what i had become convinced was what God should do next, what he ought to do, because it made sense. and, looking back, i can see now where all those A moments led not to B, but to C, sometimes D, and every once in a while, Q. when that would happen i would rail against the injustice of a God who couldn't, just this one time, do things the way i told him to. now i see, though still dimly, darkly, that A had to lead to C, that K was meant to come before R, that my view of the future and how it should play out is limited in scope and diminished by brokenness.
which is all to say that yes, i want, and i want to expect, that good things will come of this weekend. but i'm relying entirely upon the power of the Spirit to let go of my need to tell God - or anybody else for that matter - what those good things should be.
this, then, is my prayer:
Father, i come to you tonight with a mind full of thoughts and plans and fears and questions, and a heart full of doubt and uncertainty and the beginnings of a fragile hope, hope that i can allow myself to believe that what you want for me is for good, and not for ill.
though i cling to the way i believe things should be with a tenacity that belies a deep-seated, pride-fed fear, i pray that, by your Spirit, you would give me grace to let go.
cover me and mine in the shadow of your wings, and allow us to find the joy of knowing that we can trust your character even when we cannot discern your ways.
above all else, hold me, Lord.
hold me in your goodness
hold me in your grace
hold me in your strength
hold me in your patience
hold me in your faithfulness
hold me in your wisdom
hold me, Lord
in your love.
through Christ our Lord,