Thursday, February 8, 2007

Dearest God,

This morning I awakened to the haunting news I heard yesterday. A surge of fear rose up out of my body. I will know the rest of the story today.

I have a small window of opportunity out of which to act, to behave, to trust. Before I know the information. I realize it is a test, another test of faith. What do I believe? Who can I trust? What is faith?

Temptation strikes at the heart of the soul when one hears frightening news. The reality is fresh once again when truth is revealed: There are some things over which you have no control, no power. You can do nothing to change the situation. How will I react? Respond?

It is easy to believe and function in faith when life is a warm breeze on a beautiful day. No stretches. No challenges. Faith can even lay dormant.

It's when life goes topsy turvy, the apple cart is dumped, or rain falls on your parade when the surface of faith is scratched. A gaping hole appears and faith is exposed, a patch of vulnerability. What does it look like? Is it steely, like armor? Is it squishy, without a core? Is it like a tiny boat moving dangerously close to a gigantic waterfall? What is faith in the midst of fear and powerlessness?

To what will I cling? Will I fall over the edge? Will I find a way to steady myself, moving my boat upstream? Will I reach out my hand to the deep places in the cosmos knowing whose hand will reach back?

If I am to be a member of the faithful, I will trust completely. Faith is not faith if I trust in some situations and not in others. Faith is not faith if I fail to believe during a crisis. Faith is not faith if I hold on to myself and not to God. To be one of God's followers, I will trust even when my boat is on rocky seas, taking in water.

God is the power source in my life. When I plugged into that energy the first time, I realized it was not a human resource, but rather the dynamism of the universe, the cosmo, the all in all. Everything fell under its spell. A lightning force, a power that holds the universe together, this is God.

My first test is about trust while I do not know the rest of the story. The second is when I do know. The third is future days.

If God is God of the universe on blue-sky days, then God is inherently God in the rumbling storm. God is not a part-timer.

In this first stage of unknowing, I throw my hat into the wind, the wind of the Spirit. I will stand on firm ground, watching how the wind tosses it around. I will remain steady as I observe the power of the Spirit taking what is my own and changing it. And one more thing. I will stand strong even when my knees are weak and my eyes fill with tears when I watch the hat of the other blow in the same wind. I will try hard not to alter its path, but rather walk beside, knowing the One who holds both hats. Truly, this is my greatest test in the first stage of unknowing. My only hope and prayer is that I will remain unflinchingly loyal as I move to stages two and three.

Life is not my own design.
I have not the power of creation.
Life ebbs and flows.
And sometimes stops.
Shifts into something else.
And I stand on the sidelines,
either trusting or arguing.
I have the stuff
God gave me,
the tissue of eternity
turned into human flesh.
And this body holds
everything else I need,
every resource God imagined.
I am a mere human creature
trusting in my Maker.
The Spirit gives me life
every mili, mili, mili,
milisecond of the day.
And to all around me
at the same time.
My life is to be a witness
to the goodness of God's plan.
I may question, doubt,
even weep.
But in the final analysis,
God is still God
and I am the human creature,
trusting.
Hold my weak heart,
strengthen my shaky legs,
as I wait.

Love, Andrea