“For most of my life I have struggled to find God, to know God, to love God. I have tried hard to follow the guidelines of the spiritual life—pray always, work for others, read the Scriptures—and to avoid the many temptations to dissipate myself. I have failed many times but always tried again, even when I was close to despair.
Now I wonder whether I have sufficiently realized that during all this time God has been trying to find me, to know me, and to love me. The question is not “How am I to find God?” but “How am I to let myself be found by him?” The question is not “How am I to know God?” but “How am I to let myself be known by God?” And, finally, the question is not “How am I to love God?” but “How am I to let myself be loved by God?” God is looking into the distance for me, trying to find me, and longing to bring me home.”
–Henri J.M. Nouwen, The Return of the Prodigal Son: A Story of Homecoming
Part One
September 10th, 2014
10:48pm
It’s all been such a blur, the last few months. Overwhelmingly blurry, actually. I went from being a college student in Lubbock, Texas just living life with her best friends, to a college graduate traveling the world for the year spreading the Lord’s kingdom.
I guess it sounds glamorous.
It doesn’t feel glamorous.
It feels hard. It feels rushed. It feels insincere.
Do You make me brave, Lord? Because it doesn’t feel like it.
Do You give me purpose, Lord? Because it doesn’t feel like it.
And honestly, for the last 4 days I’ve been questioning this entire decision because I don’t know how to feel joyful about it. I don’t know how to do this. It feels too big. I don’t understand and I can’t put into words why I don’t understand.
What do you do in a third world country where you can’t speak, where your words can’t overshadow the Lord? What do you do when your main means of love and communication is effectively shut down?
What do I do Lord? How do I live every day to love and serve You? How do I find passion for ministry when there seems to be none.
Better yet, why do I not have passion right now? Lord, You called me to this, You funded this, You had me come all this way. And why? So I could have issues with my credit card and be around 55 people 24/7 and fail as a leader?
I will continue to wake up every morning and give each day to you. But this is not the time to go quiet on me.
Will You show me who you are? You’ve stripped my comfort. You’ve left me bare and waiting, shivering violently in need of your eternal warmth.
I need to know who You are. I need to know why You are. I need You. I want You. Please, want me too.
This wasn’t what I wanted to be writing on the second day of the Race, You know. But actually, I don’t think I’ve thought much about what actually being here would feel like until we actually got here. It’s all I could do to keep up with what was going on in the whirl of momentary chaos at home in the USofA prior to this thing.
Breathe.
Is there a way to deal with transitions like this smoothly? Or are they crafted to break us; made to show us that we are so fragile and so inconsistent, that only You are constant?
You are constant. You are sure. You are steady.
I don’t need to be wowed in “typical” Christian ways. I need to be wowed by things You want for me to be wowed by.
So, wow me.
Wow my heart into submission. Wow my heart to compassion. Wow my knees to bow. Wow my brain to see Your order, instead of the twisted version I like to grip.
And wow me, He did.
