Beautiful Grace

I confess it. I'm a fair weather friend. An ADHD Christian, I call myself. Too easily distracted by things that aren't important. When things are good, I find I don't have the time to spend with the Lord, like I should. I find my life busy and full of things that crowd out the time he asks of me to be with Him. Every so often, I stop by to talk with Him, read a little Bible, sing a little Worship, go to church, and then go on my way, but there's a constant niggling inside me that something is a little off. I keep intending to fix it, to amend that situation, to make a point to spend the time I so desperately need, but something always seems to come up just at the time I had carved out...And then trouble comes knocking at my door, and everything stops short. All the background noise that had taken priority in my life becomes silent, and it's just me and God.

In circles, we waltz round and round, the Lord and I. The troubles that have been nipping at my heels for three years come nipping at me again. By now you would think I would be an old pro at this. Over and over, disaster courts, and over and over He always delivers. Round and round we go. Things go well. Not just well, but very well, better than we could have imagined. And then comes the familiar knock of the enemy, on the door of our lives. And I'm left kicking myself. How could I let myself be surprised again by these same old troubles? How did I not see this coming?

Despair comes again, to sleep on my couch, an uninvited guest I am not sure how to throw out, anymore. I am surely, I think, at the end of the mental rope, now, and my hands are slipping.

I sweat. Losing my grip. 

I don't know how to do this. It's out of my grasp. It's beyond me.

It's just me and God, face to face. He knows it's too much. He knows I am broken. I confess it. I'm weak. He already knows that, too.

I put my headphones on and put on some worship music. I am an island in a busy room. Noise and people talking, but I am oblivious to all but the words in my ears. I don't sing them out loud, but I mouth the words. Over and over...We will praise you...Over and over, Lord...

Over and Over...Disaster comes knocking...but over and over...We will praise You anyway.

And in the worship is where I find that strength I so desperately need. It's not my own, it certainly doesn't come from me. I don't fool myself into thinking I have what it takes to negotiate this life. I have heard it said so many times that "God won't give you more than you can handle." To this I say HA. The river of life, in which we are all hurtling at breakneck speed, is filled with jagged rocks, whirlpools, rapids and drop offs, as well as steep crashing falls, and I don't know about you, but my oars are broken and my arms are tired.

It's too much, I tell Him wearily. He knows. I ask and He takes over. Wipes my brow. Gives me rest, and takes those stupid broken oars out of my hands, that I was trying to paddle my own boat with. And with submission comes the peace I had longed for.

We have been dancing almost 40 years, the Lord and I, a dance of submission and deliverance. I am still learning the steps. Still stepping on His toes. It must be painful for Him, how slow I am to learn. How stubborn I am, that I keep insisting on trying to lead. I stumble, I trip, out of time with the music, I realize my misstep, confess my lack, submit to his lead, and he delivers me from my trouble. He always delivers. He has never left me high and dry. Not once. Never left me alone in the dance, or alone in the boat with the broken oars. Over and over he comes to the rescue.

I hear the words again...Over and Over...we will praise You...Over and Over Lord....
Over and over, we will praise Him. No matter, the incessant knocking at the door.

Close my eyes...and here He comes..