I'm subconsciously trying to grasp onto something, a n y t h i n g, tangible in this rickety season of unknowns. Okay, maybe it's not subconscious. Maybe it's very conscious. I'm getting clingy, and frazzled, and expectant, but not in a good way. What I mean is, I think there's such a thing as good expectancy. I know there's a verse or two about waiting on God with an expectant heart.
(just Googled "wait expectantly on the lord," like a champ, AND...)
In the morning, Lord, you hear my voice; in the morning I lay my requests before you and wait expectantly. (Psalm 5:3)
There ya go. Good expectancy. The bad side of that is where I've found myself a lot this week. On pins and needles and hoping the answers to all my hopes and dreams are just around the next corner. Expecting them to be around the corner. It's not a restful expectancy-- it's very anxious. There are two internal dialogues fighting for top spot in my brain:
Internal Dialogue #1: Wow, Papa, WOW. You have provided so mightily in this season. No, I'm not where I expected to be, but Your hand of provision could not be more gloriously evident. I'm not even worried because I don't need to be. Mostly I'm basking in the sunshine and Your goodness. You SO GOT THIS! YAY YOU! YAY ME! YAY EVERYTHING!
Internal Dialogue #2: LISSIN, I have done a very impressive job of waiting EVER SO patiently on You in this season. Like, I lost two jobs and I didn't even complain, and I only cried twice. I'm still super single, and I'm not even making a big deal about it. So any time you want to shower all those forthcoming blessings upon my EVER SO PATIENT BROW, I'll be here. But like I'm waiting. Currently. Still. Waiting. On that thing.
Internal dialogue #1 is more consistent, but internal dialogue #2 is louder. This week especially. Which is natural, even normal, when every building block of one's life is unstable. But the more I think about that, about how everything feels so unstable, I start to ask myself, well, what is stability?
My dictionary app describes stable as "something firmly established; not likely to change or fail." Friend, is there a thing on this green earth that can truly claim that description? At the risk of sounding pessimistic, I say no. Not truly. Every earthly thing we can cling to has the potential to change, fail or crumble. Job, relationship, home, wealth, status; all of it could crash at any minute.
And here I am flipping out about no job, no relationship, no real sense of being anchored, while God is standing at my back whispering, I'm here, holding you up. What more do you need to feel stable, my girl?
OKAY THEN. GOOD POINT.
Any sense of stability coming from a job, babe, or paycheck will ultimately be, honestly, not all that real. Not if it's the only thing holding me up. But standing on the solid, capital R Rock is the surest of sure things. Isn't there a song?
On Christ the solid rock I stand; all other ground is sinking sand.
So maybe life is not as rickety as I feel like it is, currently. Maybe this is just a season of learning where my feet need to be planted. Not on any physical comfort, but on the One who is firmly fixed and established yesterday, today and always.