Today I received a wonderfully encouraging email from one of my three readers. (Thanks, Ray.) Honestly, given the scarcity of posts in the last couple of months, I’m somewhat surprised to learn that anyone is still coming and looking, hoping to find something new. But I really appreciate the fact that at least one of you is.
Ray’s email, while encouraging, was also challenging. And he’s right. These last couple of months I have had all sorts of things going on in my life, from personal trial to professional woes. In the midst of it, when I should have been leaning on God the most and writing about the experiences, I have been more inclined to do, well, nothing. Depression set in, frankly, and my ambition went right out the door.
I’ve been having to ask myself, am I the sort of person who goes quietly into the night? I am the kind who fades out with little more than a whimper, my life a poignant reminder to those who know me that good people, noble people, people brimming with wild potential sometimes lay down their weapons and walk head long into some sort of person abyss? Will I, like others, so many others, give up in a profoundly spiritual sense, or will I rise up? And more, will I have the courage and the conviction to assert that there is no “rising up” that is as powerful as kneeling down?
I’ll tell you, it all scares me a bit. But I cannot bring myself, much as I have wanted to at times in the last 60 days or so, to just stop trying, to just fade away. I believe I am meant for great things. Not greatness, necessarily, and certainly not fame or money, but there are great things to be done that I believe God would like for me to do. I don’t mean to sound conceited and I hope I don’t. I believe giving a thirsty person a cup of cold water is, in and of itself, an act of greatness because it is an act of giving, and this is the sort of greatness I pray I am meant for.
And yeah, I really do believe God has a plan for me, hokey as that may sound. (I am reminded of one of my favorite books, A Prayer for Owen Meany, which you should run right out and buy if you have not read it.)
I will not go quietly. Oh, I may limp along for a while and my “victory march” may look more like a funeral procession, but I won’t just quit. See, I believe I’m meant for more. And so are you.
I’m glad to read this. Immanuel and myself have been going through some rough spots together, and there has been the temptation to throw in the towel. But we were reminded this past week that those are the moments that you sit and wait. Not an “I refuse to move” kind of wait, but an anticipatory waiting, the kind of waiting the disciples did between ascension and Pentecost, the kind they should have been doing between crucifixion and Easter. The kind of waiting that trusts in a God who put resurrection at the heart of the story.
left by Kester on 05.21.2007 at 6:29 pm