You know how sometimes you feel like you're flying along? God is your co-pilot. The sun is smiling on your heavenly day. You even dip your head and wave at others as you pass by, maybe offer a word of encouragement that they too can be lifted on a holy breeze?
And then, out of nowhere, splat. Chin in the dirt, you look up and think--or if you're really brave, say-- "God, what just happened? I thought we were flying? Why did you let me fall?"
I had a moment like that today. I had been so focused on flying that I didn't even notice when I lost altitude. I'm not sure how long I'd been standing here, mistaking for a holy breeze the air stirred as I madly flapped my arms, before I overbalanced. Okay, maybe I did notice something wasn't right, but I thought if I ingored it, it would go away. Like a zit.
It wasn't until I was scrubbing at the dirt on my chin that I had to own up to the fact that I was sitting, and the scenery looked uncomfortably familiar. I finally, quite literally, cried out to God. And He has been sitting with me since, kissing my scrapes.
At some point I had stuck out my butt and boxed him away from the wheel (or whatever mechanism planes use to steer). I have been so focused on "being joyful in God's will" that I stopped being real in God's presence. I stopped telling Him when I was hurt. That I didn't know where we were going and it scares me. That I can't do this by myself.
Today I finally saw the dirt on my face and was ashamed. And comforted. You see, I'm not supposed to be able to do this by myself. God is. And He doesn't mind me being scared. I think sometimes He's like a date on a roller coaster--he likes that in the dips I cling so much tighter. I don't like the dips at all. But I will hold on, because like it or not, they're coming. Heck, they're here.
My Jesus, cling to me. I need your love. Neeeed your love. I need you to hold me and tell me it's okay and remind me you're in charge. I need you to show me, visibly, physically, that you love me. Be demonstrative. Be big. I need you so. All my love. And, once again, all my trust.