Faith My Eyes

Today, everything broke down. Our car. My beautiful plans for the afternoon. My understanding of our current financial situation (see "car" above). My perception of this state of uncertainty where we've seemingly staked out a capital.

Me - I broke down.

Sitting in my parked car outside my office, face plastered against the steering wheel, crying my eyes out, the exhaustion in my spirit caused me to think for a moment,

"This is too much."

Lately, a few things have seemed to go especially encouragingly well, and then just as we reach our pinnacle of excitement and anticipation - the bottom drops out from underneath us, and we land on our bums with a thud, our cherished prize snatched away. How many more overwhelming pieces of bad news can our weary hearts handle?

Today, in that split second, sitting defeated before my tear-soaked car horn, the answer was none. No more. Enough. This is not what I signed up for, not what I want. [That's a powerfully lonely split second. If you ever find yourself there, please call me. I mean it.] There wasn't a single shred of determination left in my battered heart, not a rational thought in my worn out mind. For that moment, I genuinely wasn't sure I could even gather the strength needed to walk back into my office. Which was bad, since it was 1:43 and I had a meeting at 2:00.

Something else broke down today. Something not listed in that pitiful collection at the beginning. That thing was my sense of entitlement, my say in how things in my life turn out. The part of me that looks at a situation and decides what I want it to look like and how I think it should go, and devises Plans B, C, sometimes through K. Very little occurs in our lives that I don't have a game plan for tackling. Money disappears from our account (thanks, State of California)? Out pops our budget and I'm crunching numbers before California has a chance to even enjoy the stolen fruits of our labor. Difficult health diagnoses? My Mayo Clinic online researching skills are nearly unparalleled, if I do say so myself. Feelings of work frustration or a sense of being stuck? Additional training options or recreational possibilities aplenty begin filling my Firefox bookmarks. Things obviously happen to us beyond my control, but I have a pretty strong say in what we do from there, what our retaliation entails.

Today, my say broke down.

Because I needed to really learn a humbling lesson: that God is the One Who has all the say. My Plans B - K are sweet and all, but He is the architect of my life, and it is His blueprint that will be followed to the letter. My reactionary measures may be admirable, but with or without them, God's ultimate designs on my life are what will be performed. Why is this distinction important?

Because when I have a plan and then things work out, I give God token credit. How nice of God to work my plan out. Or when my ideas or desires materialize, He gets some praise, but it's really sorta what I expected to happen anyhow.

As I mustered the willpower to step out of my car and walk slowly through the chilly wind into my office, I had nothing: no plan, no course of action, no agenda. No idea what is going to happen. What I did find was the indescribable peace that comes from laying down a burden that is far too big for me to carry at the feet of the One Who can lift it with just the strength of His pinky finger. And the real relief that comes with honestly letting go.

Right now, I've got nothing. Sure, we'll formulate a plan (because I believe God expects me to be a good steward with everything He has given me - including my brain), but know this: whatever good comes from this point onward will be purely a gift from the brilliant mind of our Creator.

I'm finally realizing my best course of action is to just go along for His ride.

[Which works out well - seeing as how my car is broken down.]

So keep 'em coming
These lines on the road
And keep me responsible
Be it a light or heavy load
Keep me guessing
With these blessings in disguise
I'll walk with grace my feet
And faith my eyes
-Derek Webb