Tis 0545 & I wish I was asleep, but I have been up for an hour & a half already & figured I should do something productive. Well, not 'productive' per se, but this is a thought--not an altogether original thought bu any means, but a thought--that I have had a few times recently & I thought I should write it down & did not feel like turning on a light & thus committing to waking up fully for the day to write it in my journal. Also, it is about time for my yearly update. Anyway, here goes...
Obviously, God teaches us things throughout our lives. I feel like last semester was all about trust. Trust that He not only provides for my needs, but also provides for many of the things I want as well. I knew this already, but last semester was the first time I really, actually, truly had a chance to apply it, & while it took longer than it probably should have, I eventually was assured of the fact & it was great. What can I say? I have trust issues with everybody, why should God be an exception? I mean, ideally He should be, but He isn't--at least not yet.
Tis a bit early to presume to know what the theme of this semester is going to be, but I think I have an idea:
I feel like a fish. Last semester God said, "Hey, come up here on the shore. You'll like it up here."
I respond, "Are you sure? I like my pond OK--I mean, I have been feeling like I've been swimming in circles for quite a while, but they're really awesome circles."
He says, "I'm sure. Trust me."
"OK, I trust you--I always have--I mean, I've always said I always have & you've never let me down before."
I jump out of the pond with eagerness & excitement, wondering what wonderful things await me on the other side. I land in the sand with a thump. It isn't pleasant. It's coarse & rough &--well, you know. The air burns. I can't breathe. I flop around, gills straining to find something to strain for oxygen. It is not wonderful--it is very much not wonderful.
I don't know what I want. Part of my screams out to God to throw me back in the water, but He just stands there. Another part knows He must have put me out here for a reason & trusts Him implicitly, but I can't breathe. Perhaps it was all a lesson in how to be content with pond life. Perhaps He's going to let me suffer before turning me into a bird or a lion or whatever He's planning to do with me out here. Yeah, it'll be awesome then, but for now it is horrible. I'm not sure which I want, nor which is best, but I know He knows--but I can't breathe--there's no water for my gills,
Then it hits me--I'm not dying. It's a strange feeling--something in my chest expands & fills my blood with life-giving oxygen from the air. It's still not pleasant--this new, weird, & altogether alien feeling--but I'm not dying. After the first few gasped, painful breaths, it begins to feel less strange, & not altogether unpleasant. God picks me up & dusts off some of the sand. Slowly I realize I'm not a fish--I'm a frog.
As much I wish it hadn't been such a rude awakening, I don't see how it could it have gone any other way--at least for me. God can't breathe for me--well, He could if He wanted to, but what would I be but a rag doll of impotence if He did--I had to either do it on my own or live forever in my little pond. I'm sure others managed the transition with more aplomb than I, but others didn't. Moreover, I don't need to compare myself to others--& thus we come to this year.
After getting over the initial shock, I began meekly hopping around. I'm kind of embarrassed. I've always been considered a good swimmer & that's always been embarrassing enough, but this just feels like showing off. All around me turtles & lizards crawl around trying to get from one place to another & here I am--me & the small handful of other frogs--just leaping up on everything with very little effort. Meanwhile, the dragonflies & mosquitoes flit about from place to place with even greater ease, but they exhaust themselves & die before the day is over. Then there's the fish--stuck forever in that little water body. True, there's the so-called "higher animals"--birds & mammals & such--but everybody knows they're great, I'm just a frog.
What business have I, showing off like this while my new fellow pond creatures wallow in the mud or burn out before their time? I still don't know, but God seems to be saying "Jump, for it is how I made you. Every creature is made to do what I made it to do, & I made you to jump."
OK then. I'm a frog. I jump. Like breathing, it'll take a bit to get used to, but I refuse to be embarrassed any longer. I won't be a jerk about it & rub it in the turtle's faces, but if I'm made to jump then I'll learn to do it well & embrace it. Or at least that's what I'm working on for now.
(If you don't know me or do but didn't catch it, I'm using jumping is a metaphor for being smart.)
As with the trust thing, this is something that people have been telling me like forever & I've tried at various times to incorporate it, but now it seems to be coming to a head. Not a terribly original or ground-breaking theological truth, but this not a seminary thesis, tis my blog--web log, as in, a log of my life. & this is my life now.
(wherein I have to decide--it being now 0650--whether to go back to bed or to stay up since I have class at 0800 & in so staying feel dead tired for at least the next few hours .)
