Can't Get Out of the Rain

My title comes from a song by Between Thieves "Privately" from their '94 self-titled album.  I was driving home after seeing a movie with a friend and another one of their songs came on my iPod.

"Security in frailty (Your touch I have found,) In brokenness I am made complete (I will lay it down)..."

If you're wondering, "where is he going with this?"  Trust me, there is a point.

I think.

God is doing a lot in my life.  Most of it I like.  Some of it, not so much.  But I know that the not so much will be good for me.  I need all of it.  This is the "lay it down," part.  I used to have a clear defined path of what I wanted my life to be.  What I wanted to do for God.  I even started writing a series of books in high school and college that mapped out (via a "version" of me) what that life would look like.

God has been slowly, and sometimes painfully stripping that vision away from me over the last 15 years or so.  What my imagination came up with only pales in comparison to reality.  Not because my life is so fantastic, but what God has done in me is beyond what I could hardly even have guessed at.

While I'm very aware of the changes God has done, I pray now, that others would see him more than me.  That I am; where, what and who I am...because of God.  Without him, well, I don't want to think about that.

Ok, I was getting to the laying down part right?  If we don't lay down what we cling to so dearly, even good things, things that God gave to us, we can not participate in the future/present he wants for us.  Think of Hannah finally getting her son Samuel.  God answered her prayer, and she only got to hold him long enough to wean him.  Then she gave Samuel to God for all his days.

Or Abraham.  God allows him to have a son with his wife, at last!  Yet while Isaac is still young(ish) God asks Abraham to sacrifice his child, to God.  (If you don't know the story, Abraham obeys with a heavy heart, but in the last moment, before he kills his son, God provides a ram instead.)  

God wants us to let go of the things we want the most, because we are what he wants most.

I don't have a son to sacrifice, or a son to offer to God for all the days of his life.  Right now, all I have is dreams.  And I don't know how to give them to God.  Dreams of a family, dreams of writing, of serving Him, of so many different things.  I don't want to loose them.  But I need to be willing to loose them or they get in the way of my relationship with God.

Like Moses and the Israelites, I've tasted the freedom from slavery, I've left Egypt at long last.  But now I'm standing with the Red Sea before me, and the chariots of Pharaoh bearing down behind me.  I want the Promised Land, but I still have a journey to go before I can get there, and then I will be ready.

I have no idea what the future holds.  I don't think I want to "know."  Sometimes I wish I was there already, but I don't want to miss the journey.  So I need to surrender my dreams to God.  I need to set aside what I think makes me strong.  To be frail, and broken.  Because like the song says, "security in frailty, in brokenness I'm made complete."

Like Peter leaping out of the boat and walking on the water toward Jesus.  "Look at me guys!  I am walking on the water!"  Then the waves roll, and he realizes..."people don't walk on water!"  Then Jesus catches him and Peter is safe.  In his moment of weakness, his broken pieces are grasped by the Creator of everything and he is made complete.  Peter's best moments are when he boldly reveals his frailty and Jesus teaches him.

So I need to let go, to jump out of the boat and make toward Jesus.

But the rain will come.  And I'll run and run and won't be able to get out.  Especially if I'm holding on to things, or picking up things I’ve already lain at Jesus' feet already.  At this point, my tired mind is reaching out to the movie "300."  

The scene at the end of the movie (SPOILERS!) when Leonidas is faced with Xerxes for the last time.  He is told he will be spared if he but simply  kneel.  He drops his shield, his helmet...he makes himself frail and broken (so to speak) because in order to reach his goal he can't be encumbered by the things he has wrapped himself in to protect him.  He lunges forward, free of those burdens and throws his spear...

Free of the stuff, he could move forward.  Get out of the rain, if you will.  Granted he dies moments later...but he was already willing to die.  To give his life for what he was fighting for.

I suppose what I'm getting at is Surrender and Trust.  We surrender to God, but he is not our enemy.  He is our king.  He takes from us the things we think we need, and becomes our refuge, our shield.  And that is what we put our trust in.  Our King.

We are made strong because He is strong.

Bridezilla - (by Jesse Arnold)

In a bright, sun lit room, a bride stands before a trio of mirrors.  Her hair is perfectly combed. It's sculpted and shinning.  Not a single flyaway.  She places her sparkling diamond tiara gently but firmly upon her locks.  She turns her head side to side, watching the jewels sparkle.  She bats her long mascara enhanced eyelashes at her own reflection.  Working on her best expressions.  She purses her lips, glistening that perfect shade of lipstick.  She smiles, her dazzling white teeth flash, a bright contrast to the just right spray on tan of golden brown.  The professional whitening, to remove all the build up from all the sweets and coffee that stained them.

She flashed a few more dazzling smiles at herself the began to look over her dress.  It is so beautiful.  So intricate and expensive.  The finest silk, pearls, you name it.  The finest dress that money could buy.  It clings to her body just enough to show off how hard she worked out, but was modest enough not to upset any grandparents.  The train was long and flowing.  It was just a touch off white, a soft ivory.  It accented her skin so well.  She sprays on some perfume, letting the sweet fragrance envelop her.

Today is her day.  It's all about her.  She hopes the groom is putting his tux on with as much care and effort as she put her dress on.  It doesn't really matter how he looks though.  Every eye will be upon her as she walks down the aisle.  She's been dreaming of this day for so long.  Forget all the flirtations and almost flings.  She saved herself for this, but she came close a few times.  Now, she wants those who rejected her, laughed at her to rue the day they did so.  Look at what they are missing out on.  She had worked hard to transform herself into the resplendent creature that stood looking out from three reflections.  Her shoes were the only problem.  She could hardly walk. But they looked so good.  Made her tall and slender form stand out above everyone.  They hurt her feet, but they were gorgeous.  Too bad no one could see them.

There's a knock at the door.

Angry she fumes to herself, who would dare disturb her!?  She needs to look her best.  Needs to let everyone see how much effort she put into her appearance.  The nerve!

The knock repeats.

Furious she stomps as loudly as she can, in her difficult shoes, to the door and flings it open...

"What?!"  she screams.

She sees her groom.  He looks at her.

The room is cold and damp and suddenly she feels ugly.  Her perfect hair is greasy and full of chemicals.  Her skin and teeth look garish and fake.  The make-up feels like sludge on her face.  The dress is a gaudy sack that is too tight and doesn't feel like it covers enough.

The groom sighs...breathing new life.

The cold damp walls melt away.  They stand now in a vibrant garden.  Full of green life and flowers.  The jewels and adornments blow away like feathers in the wind.  The grease washes out of her hair, it waves freely in the breeze, light and natural.  The make-up melts away, the tan disappears and her natural complexion shows forth.  A blush rises to her cheeks.  The mascara is gone, her eyes are clear and bright.  The sack of a dress shimmers and shifts as it becomes pure white linen.  Simple and clean.  Her shoes dissolve and her aching feet find relief in the fresh soft grass.

There is no audience.  There are no more onlookers for her to make jealous.  She is alone with the groom, before his Father.  She has been made new.  She is now like she was when he first saw her on the shores of Galilee.  The smell of the sea in her hair and the warmth of the sun on her face.  She lost all the trappings that she thought she needed to be a Bride.  Instead of just becoming the Bride he already knew her to be.