Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders...Let me walk upon the waters wherever you would call me...Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander...and my faith will be made stronger in the presence of my saviour.
So I've been having some tough days. I mean who wouldn't in this situation. Hubs has been without a job for seven months, today. I haven't worked in fifteen years, but it looks like I'm going to have to get back into the job market. Just never thought it would be this long, kept thinking surely the right job would come along any time, and we could get back to normal living. But it isn't happening. What will I do? I don't know. Where will I work? Not a clue. Do I want to do it? Not on your life. I have been wrestling. Taking care of house and home has been my full time job since Alyssa was one year old. I love being a housewife. I find no joy in the thought of working outside the home, but it's looking like that's how it's going to play out.
Some days are worse than others. Fridays are the worst of all. Last Friday I found myself standing in the kitchen at fifteen 'til five, looking out at the back yard in a sudden blur of tears. Will this ever end? Fifteen 'til five on a Friday afternoon, workweek almost over, and no jobs have materialized. Another week gone, and three days until the business week resumes and maybe that phone will ring. Seven very long months of unemployment. 28 very scary Fridays spent watching the clock hands swing around toward five as the panic begins to rise and the phone stays obstinately silent.
It's as I'm standing there looking out the window, through my tears, that I see the garden in the late afternoon sun. It has grown lush and green over the last several weeks, with the ten tomato plants at the back dominating the lettuce, squash, cucumbers, watermelon and cantaloupe, and our one onion that unexpectedly grew from a dead stalk that we stuck in the ground. It is the picture of abundance. Then I hear that unmistakable voice, that quiet one that always grabs me. Haven't I sustained you through all these months? Do you lack anything? And the answer is no. We have food. We have gas in the car. We still have our house. Bills for the month of June are paid. We are OK. I think about the many tears I have shed over the last few months. I think about how I have been floundering on an emotional ocean of fear and bewilderment about the things that are happening in my life, things I have no control over. I feel like I have been thrown in the deep.
A stray lyric from an old song floats randomly through my head... *And we'll walk on the water, with Him (with Him) the Messiah comes surely and we will begin...to walk on the water with Him...and we will be with Him...as the Father is with Him...as the Spirit is with Him...And then I realize how fitting that is. That is exactly what He is asking me to do. Walk on the water with me, He says. Keep your eyes on me, only on me, and you will not sink.
And In a hopeless moment, in what seems like a hopeless situation, miraculously, hope emerges, and takes residence in my heart. God can do anything, this I know for certain. He can even make the phone ring after five o'clock on a Friday, or even a Saturday. God has no limits. So why am I limiting him?
I have never heard this song before tonight. I am at a friend's house and she begins to tell me about this song she has been learning to play. She types it into youtube and up comes this breathtaking voice, but it's the lyrics that stun me. They are the same. The same words I was thinking, crying, praying on Friday are scrolling across this screen. I am amazed. My friend had no idea, when she was learning the song that I had written about walking on water. I had no idea when I was writing this blog that she was learning to play a song called "Oceans." When we crossed paths tonight, and shared experiences, there was God, right in the middle of it all.
There is a paradox in this whole thing. Something that never crossed my mind until tonight.. The one thing that no sane person would ever do in a storm at sea would be to get out of the boat. Yet in a spiritual parallel, that is exactly what he is asking. To Walk on the water with Jesus, requires leaving the safety of your boat. Alone on the ocean. No boat. No rope. No life jacket. That's a terrifying thought. But just when you think it's over, here he comes, telling the wind to shut up. Telling the waves to die down. Telling the storm to be done. Telling you he is on your side. I need a God like that.
Lord, give me the courage to climb out of my tiny, sinking, worthless, dinghy, and walk on the wild with you.
*The Advent Suite by John Michael Talbot\
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