“I love this crazy tragic, sometimes almost magic, awful beautiful life.”
I swear, there is no limit to what country music can teach us all about life (yes, I just said that). Judge me if you will, but the above line from Darryl Worrely’s (sp?) song is such a fitting tune for my life right now. The more life I see, the more I learn. And as Solomon tells us all in Ecclesiastes, the more knowledge and wisdom we acquire, the more heartache and suffering that is sure to come. But there’s a beauty in this depth of life, even the pain that comes along with the understanding… it’s crazy. It’s tragic. But it’s beautiful.
The past– it leads us to present. It’s the cookie cutter that has shaped us into exactly who we are now, where we are now… Let me stop and say I am so happy with this place that I’ve found myself in. It’s almost alarming– to the point where I’ve tried real hard to make myself feel guilty about it, about being completely content with the moment I’m in, with the opportunities and tasks that God has lined up so perfectly for me. That might sound silly, but it’s a pretty new and overwhelming feeling. And I am likin’ it! But to get to this place, so much about me and my life had to be cut out. I had to lose parts of my life, parts of me, to flourish a newly birthed happiness and contentment. And it burned. Because when we are called to follow God’s will for our life, we sometimes put ourselves under the knife. His will can seem to cut us like a razor by pushing us to give up so many things that are comfortable excess… And it can hurt. It’s sharp, like a razor blade… but sweet. So sweet, when a piece of His will becomes visible and comprehendible to human eyes.
So far in my life, these seasons have been rare, and I don’t expect myself to stay content with the opportunities set in front of me forever. I know God is constantly calling us out of our comfort zones to constantly be shaped into men and women that resemble Him more and more. But I’m so thankful for what He’s given me right now– for this moment, I am so appreciative. And so overwhelmed by God’s provision– the good, the bad, the painful… they are all what have gotten me to where I am now. Every situation, every scar, every battle– they’ve all taught me different ways to find Christ in the worst situations. The indisputable fact that God is always working only makes the worst moments more of an excuse to worship Him. The pain in suffering fails to compare to the fruits of God’s working hand, and I strive to live life with that realization, independent of circumstance. To find Him in the midst of a razor blade, that is what I’m learning. That’s what times like these (happy, perfectly placed, content times) prepare me for and remind me of.
I talked last time about leaving parts of the past at the proverbial baggage claim (I hope you are singing the song in your head right now), and I think that is such a vital concept for the present. Some things have to be cut out to make more room for what really matters, for the things that really make up the meat of who you are. The razor blade of God’s will is a paintbrush creating a masterpiece of self, a portrait authored by an Artist of hearts. It cuts, it tears, it smears, it blends… but it takes a breaking to produce something truly beautiful. It takes the razor blade… the baggage claim… whatever you may call it… to sculpt us all into this work of art that only God can see before the finished product. Trusting His knowing that over what we see in front of us is difficult… but completely logical when you think about who He is and who we’re not.
So, here I am. In life’s airstream parked with a beautiful view. As I travel along highways and backroads, I cherish these moments, but at the same time realize the brevity of each. I know the road will call for travel again soon, and I will find my Guide in every mile. As I enjoy the moment I am in, I look ahead to the next collision of God’s will and my own. I know in between these times will be more shaping, more burning, more refining, and I will strive to find my Guide even when it hurts. Because His Will is sharp, like a razor blade… but it’s end goal is sweeter than any amount of pain it takes to get there. And I hold onto that at all times.
Thankful, truly thankful, for the pain and suffering that brings about a sweetness unrivaled by anything this world can give. God’s legit. And I love that He reminds us all of that every day.
Looking for Him in all circumstances,