Dear Lilies,
“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the LORD. Isaiah 55:8
Today begins the fifth week of our time together. Thank you for your time and care in reading these letters to you! You all have blessed me more than words, truly. It's a short one today, but short and sweet, I do think.
This past week I wrote a personal essay rooted around a “musical experience” for one of my classes. I know, it sounds strange. It was. But hey, there is always something that can be gained even from the most outlandish of things, eh? Without fail, in doing personal reflective writing, I have to confront uncomfortable and nasty things within myself. I mean you really can't B.S. a personal narrative… well, you can, but what is the point? That's a whole lot of wasted finger muscles and keyboard ticking. Over the past couple of years, scouring my soul for answers to these personal writing prompts has become a pretty routine activity for me. All of this to say, a recurring theme I discovered during writing my essay last week was my fear, my disillusionment and my altogether anxiety of the unknown.
The unknown.
It can be large or small. A long period or just a second spent dwelling in the unanswerable. Not knowing where my friend is because they haven’t texted me back in 10 minutes (Did they get in a car wreck? Are they mad? Did they…? All the above), or not knowing what will happen if I actually step out on a limb with my dreams.
The unknown.
It terrifies me. What I cannot give an answer to in a split second causes my heart to drop, pound down into my gut and brain turn to mush. I want to react. Solve the problem. Fix the leak. Find an answer. DO something, even if it is completely and entirely non-beneficial to the actual unknown or problem. By doing something I try to subside that uncomfortable feeling pervading my being.
I may be the only one with this struggle, but I don’t think so because passages like Isaiah 55 come to mind. “…my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” Why would God tell us this? To make us feel insignificant? To belittle us? Of course not! God is good and he does good (Psalm 119:68). God is love (1 John 4:8). God gives Grace (James 4:6).
Perhaps, he tells us this to realign our hearts and minds to His reality. The reality that what is unknown to us, is never unknown to him.
Because in light of His reality, we can see the unknown as something completely different. And the unknown transforms from a place of panic, to a place of pause.
A time to complain, to a time of thanksgiving.
A feeling of failure, to an assurance of growth.
A time of self-condemnation, to a time looking to the One who knows it all.
An opportunity to be defeated, to an opportunity for growth.
A time of worry, to a time of worship.
I don't want to miss out on an opportunity to grow in my faith, experience peace in the midst of hardship and worship my God, just because I didn't take a pause to realign my reality. Do you?
Love,
Sarah
(I’ll share the essay with you in the Lily Field this week)