If I could sum up the season that I am in, and currently have been in for the past few months, it would be like this: CHILD.
Let me explain. “Child,” not in the way I’m sure most of you are thinking about; the “When I was a child, I talked like a child…” way. As much as that seems fitting as well, that can’t do what I’m going through justice. It can’t do ME justice. What I’m talking about is more of a “Father, I need you,” way. To get any sort of home base with this, I need to let you in on some events that have happened recently:
1) My father, the most kind-hearted, strongest, loving man I know, was diagnosed with bladder cancer a while back. I know it’s not lung cancer or leukemia, but cancer is cancer. And when you hear the word “cancer” anywhere near a sentence with your father’s name near it, fear strikes instantly.
2) Community has gotten stressful. With every group of friends that spend any decent amount of time together (especially of the Christian kind) there is bound to be some drama. Even though my friends and I seek the Father as a team, sometimes it doesn’t go as smoothly as planned. (PS – No. We aren’t perfect, so don’t expect us to be.)
3) The financial struggle has gotten real. With some unexpected expenses coming up, changing jobs, and helping out a few friends along the way, sticking to a budget has gotten harder and harder. No matter how much I have saved up.
4) God has called me to the World Race. That’s right. That crazy 11 month mission trip thing that has people living out of backpacks while they leave everything they know behind. Yeah. So there’s that.
I know what you’re thinking. “That’s IT!? Come on man. That’s a walk in the park compared to what I’ve got going on.” And don’t get me wrong. Sure, these things might be a breeze compared to the hell of a life you’ve got swinging at you. In your eyes. In my eyes, these things have wrecked me. Just as your thoughts are yours and my thoughts are mine, the same goes with struggles. Something you’re struggling with might be a lazy Sunday afternoon to me, and vice versa. “You do you, boo boo.” This is me. Being vulnerable.
So why did I say that thing about being a “child” up there? Because the more I try to act like I have it all together and can do life on my own, I fail. And fail. And fail again, only to find out that the only thing I can actually handle by myself is sleeping and calling for help. I’m continually trying to fix things on my own. Thinking “I know how to make a budget,” or “I know what this group needs.”
It wasn’t until about a week ago that I was laying in my bed, hashing it out with God. saying things like “God, what do you want me to do?” and “I thought you said ;alsdf;ahsdgl;asdfg and that I was as;ldgha;sdfhgal;skdf. You didn’t say this would happen!” But I forgot something. I forgot that He is a perfect father.
People have told me before that they think when Christians raise their hands during worship, its because they want people to think they’re spiritual. And yeah, I agree that some people MAY have that intention. But MOST of us do it because it’s all we know to do in that situation. Look at it like this: when a baby wants its parent to hold them, what do they do? When a child falls and scrapes their knee, what do they do? They raise their arms to their parent because they know they will protect them. Heal them. Calm them down. There’s not many things more peaceful than a long embrace in your father’s arms.
Whether or not I see any earthly good come from my afflictions, I know without a shadow of a doubt, that when I hear my heavenly father say to me “Well done my good and faithful servant,” it will ALL be worth it.
When life hits you like it has hit me lately, I pray that you learn this lesson sooner than I did. And that is this:
- More than likely, you can’t change much,
- He is a PERFECT father,
- And the best thing you can do is to raise your arms in surrender and ask for your daddy to pick you up. Where there is peace.
So the next time you see me with my hands raised during worship, you’ll know why.
