When I’m in an uncertain situation, or with someone I’m uncomfortable with, or doing something that is outside of myself, there’s a place I go in my head. In that place I always start off walking and then I trip and stumble and I fall. The thing is, I always feel relieved when I fall. And I just lay there on the ground, curled up, still. Not worrying about what I look like or if I’m decent or who is around me. Everything becomes soft and bright and warm. And I get smaller and smaller. As I’m laying there, I have a sense or a feeling that someone is there with me. I don’t see a face or a body, but I feel Him. And it’s at that time- during that realization that I’m not alone, that I really feel right. Really connected to something bigger than myself. So that what I do and how I act and the choices I make aren’t as heavy or large as I’ve imagined them. And then my thoughts end.
I visited this image a lot when I was in Mali. I thought what I was wishing for was simply being at home. But when I got home, I still found myself going there. And now I’m away again.
I think the rest that I’m craving is a deeper rest than what I’ll find here. Sometimes my most restless moments are when I’m sleeping. And my most alone and disconnected moments are when I’m with people.
I think I’ve been in the valley for a long time. In the dark and cold. Sometimes it’s hard to remember what the mountains feel like. Sometimes my world seems black and grey and white. And all I want to do is to be very, very still. To stop. Everything.
But I’ve learned to love the valley. And the desperation it brings, the intimacy it demands. It’s in the valley that I recognize most my absolute need for Him in my life. I recognize that He IS life.
People ask me why. Why I haven’t changed where I’m at or what I do or how I live. Why I haven’t fixed myself, solved my problems. I don’t think life is that simple. And it’s not about where I am at or what I do or who I am with. It’s not dependent on this world. Because I love where I am at and what I do and the people I’ve come to know here. The valley is deeper than that.
I have a lot more to learn from the valley. Its place in my life isn’t finished yet. And when I leave it, when I climb out, I know I’ll be back soon. The valley is never far away. And I’m thankful for that. Sometimes life needs to be sobering. It’s the falls that teach us.
So I’ll keep moving and breathing and loving. And waiting without stopping. For Him to lift me and carry me and put my feet in high places. Where the sun shines and the day beats out the night. And I’ll be grateful for where I’ve been. Blessed by the Valley.
Side note: I just read this and it sounds really down. Oops. So on the upside, I'm falling even more in love con mi clase. My kids are the greatest. Next week: Operation Owl Pellet Dissection will commence. My boys are jazzed. The girls and I aren't quite convinced. Adventure will be had by all.
"These are moments of truth. I am alone with The Alone. When the night is bad and my nerves are shattered and the waves break over the sides, Infinity speaks. His love flashes into my soul, and I am overtaken by mystery.
It is then that I face a momentous decision. Shivering in the rags of my years, I have two choices. I can escape below into skepticism and intellectualism, hanging on for dear life. Or with radical amazement, I can stay on deck and boldly stand in surrendered faith to the truth of my belovedness, caught up in the reckless raging fury that they call the love of God. And learn to pray."
Brennan Manning, The Furious Longing of God
No comments:
Post a Comment