Sunday

You have a problem, she said, sticking her cold feet underneath mine and handing me a box of tissues. We do things in order here: comfort, necessity, correction.

And after it all I agreed with her. I never denied that there was a problem and that it was mine, all mine. Problem: I don't trust God. Didn't I just say that?

Problem: I consider a matter and decide that God has already decided the outcome and it's not my preference, whatever that is. I'm no pessimist when it comes to others' lives, I think all sorts of grand things about them, but my own life, it's small and inconsequential whether what I want happens. I think that, I really do.

Along with being a boring God, my God is also always proving me. He is always setting the bar just too high, out my reach. Always asking a bit too much, more than I can stomach. He's withheld all the good things I want and gives me all the good things I don't care about. He is a God of relentless pursuit, always nagging me to get up, give more, be more, be less, sit down, shut up, and wash my hands, for His name's sake!

And I always feel proved. Not proven. Never having come through the fire, emptied of impurities and free of all dross. I feel constantly shifted and strained and mixed back together again. As if everything I do will never add up to one complete, thoroughly tried, clean piece of gold.

I've still been listening to that same song all week. "Jesus, Jesus, how I trust you, how I've proved you o're and o're." And I'm reading about Gideon besides. I read about him over and over again. Here was a man who was proven, yes, but more-so, he proved. He said, God, You are who I think You are and I'm willing to give it all, do it all, walk in that land and claim it with only 300 men, but first, do this for me. Then this. And this too.

I think that we're not supposed to test God, but maybe we are. Maybe the only reason I feel tested all the time is because I haven't once tested Him. I've never pulled a Jacob, holding on until He blesses me. I've never demanded like Jabez, using strong verbs and big requests. I've never laid down a fleece like Gideon and expected, really expected, a miracle. I've never prayed for three nights in the belly of a fish, really believing that I'll make it out of there alive.

I've never asked for more than I'm absolutely sure that I'll get.

3 Comments:

Blogger Billy Coffey said...

For a long time I would read about Gideon and David and Joseph, and I would listen as preachers told me that the promises God made to them were the promises He's made to us. I never believed that, though.

I do now.

I'm not entirely sure what changed my mind about that, but I am sure of this: there is no such thing as an inconsequential life.

Especially yours.

Sunday, May 03, 2009 7:56:00 PM  
Blogger thisrequiresthought said...

cold feet? I don't think so.

Monday, May 04, 2009 8:35:00 AM  
Blogger J. said...

Oh, yes. I have been mulling over this. This editing we do to our prayers because we dare not ask for more than we are sure we will most likely get. It's {insert appropriate adjective here}

Monday, May 04, 2009 6:46:00 PM  

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