My weekend with Vannessa is currently under way as I am visiting her in Houston.
She is one of my very dear friends who has always been the norm to my weird, ground to my flight, reason to my ridiculous.
We spent Friday night catching up over a cheese board and Chardonnay. Laughing more as the wine set in. Switching from serious rant on my part to loosing it laughter by both. Touched on the topic of this world race and she said,
“I’m curious to see the ways in which this trip will change you.”
And most normal people would feel encouraged by that. I felt the opposite. A little hopeless. Which I’m finding out is really, faithless.
“How it will change me.”
Because, my friends, change is needed. And my inner most self deprecating and self pitying, insecure baby girl is currently feeling like that change may never come. Because I’m just meant to be this way. Crude humor. Lustful figure hoofing it up and down the hall in all the wrong ways. Faithless fear drawing me back to sin after sin after sin. In all forms. Vanity forcing my glance every time I pass a mirror. Arrogance ignoring God’s call when he’s whispering for me to do something. Or not do something. Day dreaming the morning and night away about insipid illusions that would be ultimately awful if ever made to fruition.
Faithless.
I’ve been throwing a pitty party lately about how off track I can get. No, how off track I can exist. I don’t just vear off on the shoulder proceeded by a quick jerk back on the straight and narrow. I find myself making a hard right into some unknown fields and habituating the land for some time. Getting cozy. Then seeing the straight and narrow and que the onset of buckling guilt.
Faithless.
I know where it’s going. I think I do at least. I have the destination in mind lets say that. But I am ansy along the way. Sometimes wondering if I’ll ever get there and if I do get there, will there be what has been promised?
Faithless.
And driving there is the luxury! I’m comforted secure in a car taking me there at great speed yet acting as if I’m being asked to walk there backwards. What a brat.
It’s all faithless.
Saturday AM comes much earlier than my inner child wanted due to an adult biological alarm clock. With ‘All About That Bass’ stuck in my head from the night before (I’m bringing booty baaaaack) , I’m spending the morning entertaining yet another internal wrestling match. The usual thoughts of what am I even doing? Who am I kidding? I’m never going to change. Always going to be the same ole Cramer. Like a whiney babe.
And I look up at the picture on V’s wall that has always been above me the many times I’ve slept on their couch.
For some reason, this time it had more depth to it. I’ve seen it before. This morning it was moving me though. I just noticed in the picture the distant line of light appearing to be far off. It’s a thin line but inviting. Is it down river? Is it a trail on the other side of the lake? Is the sun rising or setting on the other side of those trees? Are you exhausted yet from reading this? haha
I don’t know. But I want to. Beside that light, there are the inevitable and ever present dark forests. A worn out analogy but effective none the less. Regardless of the forests’ lighting, or lack there of, it will always be there. More over, the light at the other end will as well. Surrounded by everything evil, confusing, comforting in disguise, you still see that unidentifiable light. However thin it may appear. The power of it through those trees is undoubtedly where I want to be and what moves me and molds me and motivates me more than any discouraging insecurity ever can.
And then I thought what it looks like to be further back. And what you see from a distance is a girl standing at the river bank looking at her future ahead. Her shadowy figure doesn’t tell you what she’s thinking or what’s holding her back. You don’t see her insecurities harrowing over her in some cartoon cloud of coal colored smoke. Her presence at the brink of her forever doesn’t tell you of her past and her sin.
All you can see is a girl. At the beginning of something. And unbeknownst to her, that picture from far away may be encouraging to others. May be motivating to the people that aren’t at the river bank. Yet.
So I need to learn to keep strong and fight the good fight of faith. Hush up and praise God for bringing me to this point. Providing this opportunity and so many others. I should be awe struck at what He’s done and is doing and did last week. I should be going back and forth from crying in humility on my knees to standing outstretched in praise for His glory. Instead I’m tossing and turning on a reclining couch.
Praise God, from whom all blessings flow.
Praise God, all creatures here below.
Oh praise Him, Alleluia
Praise God, the source of all our gifts.
Praise Jesus Christ whose power uplifts.
Praise the spirit. Holy Spirit.
Alleluia
Alleluia
Alleluia
