Saturday, December 25, 2010

How to Begin

I hate trying to figure out how to start things – how to begin a project is often the most daunting part of the task. Like where is the best place to begin cleaning out the kitchen cabinets, organizing the files on my desk, or even how to start a new blog post. Right now I am grappling with how to begin this new life that I have been given.

I had such visions of grandeur and productivity when it was all just a dream, but now that I sit here, alone in my living room, trying to find the jumping off point, the first step seems to escape me. I have paced the floor, talked to the furniture, and even checked my Facebook a dozen times, all to no end. I am reduced to a painful blob of incomplete emotion, not formed enough to wallow in even, just a nagging sense that I had better be doing something because too many people have sacrificed to give me this opportunity.

I reviewed some scripture hoping to be inspired, and actually wound up feeling a little worse. In the beginning God speaks and his will is accomplished. In the beginning was the Word, and what a marvelous thing it was. Now, I sit at this beginning wondering what are the right words to speak, how do I enact this awesome reality in my life. So I speak – I pray, I beg, I cajole, and attempt extortion, all in the hopes that God is going to break my brain wide open with a grand plan.
And nothing happens. And I want to scream, but at what? What should I scream? I don’t even know how to begin at that.

So I work on the things that I am comfortable with. The things that need no divine guidance, the stuff I know to do. Put a load of laundry in the washing machine, pick up some pieces of paper off the carpet, and start tonight’s dinner to marinating. The whole time feeling like I am missing something, that there is something else I need to be doing, but everything is a distraction and my head hurts from trying to sort through the fragments of thought.

I know that if I could just latch hold of one – a single fully formed idea, I could set off on this grand adventure. But for whatever reason God is being silent today and maybe this is what I need to be too.

Maybe that is it. I need to sit at the feet of the Father and just be for a moment.
Stop trying to force it.

But everything within me is screaming that I am being irresponsible if I am not being productive. And I begin to fidget, remember that my husband is hard at work providing for me and our children while I sit at home. I remember that there is so much I could be doing. Nothing that would help me prepare for April’s event, but at least it is one less thing that would be waiting for my attention.

Being still before God isn’t easy. It takes stamina and fortitude of a quality I sometimes lack. It takes more faith to be still before him than it does to be busy for him. After all it is what we have been taught, being productive is being faithful, working shows passion, effort equals worth.

There is a time to work our little butts off, and keep working even when our fingers bleed, but I keep being reminded of those passages that remind us to be still and know that He is God, that in quietness and trust there is strength, those who wait upon Him will rise up with eagle’s wings. And as my head begins to throb with increasing intensity, I am reminded of a friend who said, when we refuse to stop He will stop us, even if means splitting our skulls apart with a migraine.

So I am going to try to find that place. That still and quiet place and hear his heart beat. I am going to quit trying to conjure up the right words, quit avoiding his presence, and seek rest in him until he shows me the next step.


Olde Hermit said...

"Are we there yet, God?" This post reminds me of sitting in the backseat on a long trip as a kid (or more recently, as a mommy in the front seat with a screaming kid behind me) and waiting for the destination to come to me as quickly as possible. Now, I really am on my way to it, and as an adult, I know this...I know where it is I am heading and how to get there...but as a child, I knew where the end destination was but had to trust my grandparents/parents to get me there. Much like I now have to trust that God knows how to get me where I need to be when I need to be there. Patience is a beautiful thing, but even now I find myself asking..."Are we there yet, God?" Sometimes the answer is yes, sometimes no, most of the time right now I get a terse, "Where do you think you're going?" with a tug on the back of my hoodie keeping me in place. Sometimes, I respond with a dirty look, sometimes kick and scream, sometimes I stamp my feet, (sometimes, I keep trying to run with my feet hitting nothing but air as I am lifted slightly off the ground.) Yep, I'm that kid, still learning to stand still. All in all, I guess it still proves that I am nothing but a child of God...too young...5 going on 15 :)

Emily said...

You summed it up beautifully. I am that child whining all the way. I am so glad he's never shoved me in the trunk. (Where I would have gleefully placed my child if she was half as annoying as I can be. )