Again, The Unimagined

I will lead the blind by ways they have

      not known,

along unfamiliar paths I will guide

      them.

-Isaiah 42:16

 Here I am again, Lord. Beginning some new trail of life, and once again, it looks absolutely nothing like I could have imagined.

Why does it always go like this? Trading what I know for something different, unexpected? Why can I not stay comfortable where I am? Why do You seem to want to take me further into the unknown? Such patterns, again the unimagined.

I say stretch my faith and You pull miles in me. My heart in constant expansion, the tear of muscles, the roll of my soul settling in newness yet again. You are my God, You are good, and You are for me, but sometimes I want to pause, pull into myself, and stay huddled and hidden. Oh my God, You stare straight into me and ask why I hide, begin to coax me from the shadows into new land. It’s spacious, but first I must be squeezed.

You know my heart better than anyone. You know what it can take, how it must rest, and you see how much more it can grow. Oh, this tender, hiding heart. How it wants to stay safe and secure instead of venturing out into the vast and wild landscape of new seasons. I struggle with processing what has happened, what is happening, and I scramble to piece together what will come. But You instead ask me to trust, to lean into You and walk forward without wondering what will happen. That is so hard for me to do. So hard. I am not wired to act without thinking, to take the plunge without first measuring all the angles. I am precise, wanting assurance of solid statements, not allegories that leave me with loose endings. And You like the riddles, the mystery, the not-yet-revealed.

I believe Your goodness and have experienced its manifestation at soul level. Though I do not like newness, things I am unprepared for, I will walk where my eyes cannot see. I weave my fingers through Yours and hand over my hesitations and need to hold onto my life, let You in where I am afraid, and take a breath in this unfamiliar atmosphere. A slow, deliberate breath, gaining my bearings and bringing my heartbeat in tune to Yours.

I am not good with newness, with change, with unexpected seasons that shift when I am not ready. This is my struggle, but I know that You are not surprised. You see my heart, You know the full stretch of road, and You will not leave me to figure it out on my own. Thank You for Your presence, and I ask that my heart stay open to the new growth You’re bringing this season. Amen.