“there are feelings. you haven’t felt yet. give them time. they are almost here. – fresh”
Two weeks ago the sermon in church was about how God starts beginnings, the ways He takes nothing and makes it into something. He breathes life into a void and sprouts new life. Pastor Mike posed the question that it might be that there are no limits to the creative and powerful possibilities for the Children of God when they tap into that life-giving breath. See I like the imagery of God breathing something into nothing, because it means that I don’t have to have all the makings of who I will be now for God to put me in the places I need to be, to do the work that needs to be done. It’s easy to see all the things we aren’t, to get anxious that there is so much to learn and become, and to get impatient in what often feels like waiting spaces.
I return often to these words: “Above all, trust in the slow work of God.” But now I return to those words, and I can add that we also do not know when God’s breath will show up to breathe new life into us that starts us on a journey, even if that journey is long and slow. Two years ago when I was reflecting on my 27th year of life, I wrote about how it was in the quiet that God shouted his messages to me the loudest. I shared that with a friend the other day who is weighing his own life transitions. I still close my eyes and hope to hear the quiet whispers of God’s answers and promises in the night. And sometimes it still feels lonely when I believe I cannot hear it. But maybe this year is about feeling hands leading me even in the darkness.
I used to mark my years by the tragedies, the pains, but a few years ago I started to mark them by the promises. And they’ve both turned out to be spaces where God has been.