Will You Walk With Me?

I’ve been finding it a bit hard to put anything out here on the blog lately. I feel like most of what I have to say will be redundant or seem superficial in its content.  I say this because I am happy.  And when I wasn’t a happy person, I always thought people who professed constant joy were full of crap.  So, I guess I’m trying to somehow disprove that theory. 

I also worry that constantly reliving my boundless joy here might make me sound like a braggart. I never want someone to come away from a conversation with me…or having read my random babbling and think: “Wow.  She really thinks she’s something.”  Because even though at my base level, I’m a bit of a narcissist, there’s a part of me that’s trying to break out and overshadow it—a part that realizes any goodness within me was placed there by a higher power.  I didn’t generate it by simply being fabulous; those microscopic moments when I finally get things right are a miraculous gift worked through a horrible wretch of a person. 

I know this because God allowed me to live there—in the place where I thought I didn’t need him.  He showed me exactly how little good could come of me while going it alone. I spent years there trying to fill a gaping hole with worldly things and thoughts of my own grandness...It never worked. All the trying-to-fill just made me feel how acute the emptiness really was.  Black holes could not do this feeling justice.   

Slowly—very slowly—through incredible grace, He’s been bringing me back.  And really, for the first time since I was a wee child, I feel whole.  I feel so absolutely whole.   I worry that it will seem radically unbelievable to anyone else—that it will not seem remotely possible to have found deep-seated peace through my relationship with God (Jesus, Yahweh, Abba, Dad…whatever you want to call Him).  I don’t think even John believes me half the time (mostly because he wants to make sure I’m happy).  But, I cannot say this loud enough: I feel whole because I know I am completely and irreversibly committed to loving my savior. 

It feels like the elephant in the room, to be honest.  I’m setting my life on a path with the desire to radically love everyone.  I’m doing it because I am radically loved—and because everyone else on this planet is just as reverently adored as I am.  I want everyone to know that.   I want you all to know that.  And I want that sentiment to somehow be believable, God help me. 

If I appear to have lost my mind or at least my credibility, that’s cool.  Just know that when I say I am happy, I am happy.  When I try to convey some incredible level of joy; it is unmistakable, all-encompassing joy.  And when I say you are all with me here, I’m not trying to fluff up anything.  It is beyond even my comprehension how you are all with me in my daily life; how I can be physically in the next room or thousands of miles away and still have not left you behind.

The solitude I find here is actually filled with a community of old and new spirits.  Every day, I turn through the pages of my life, reflecting on the intricate web of souls who have become a part of it.  All day, my memories and current thoughts intertwine—I knit them all together into the misshapen little blanket known as my life and I send those thoughts up to heaven.  So, when I say you are with me—know this is exactly where you are.  You are knit into me—a part of my soul and when I walk with my savior, you are there with us too.  

Our little layover in Vienna, at least for my part, is going to be a time of fasting and prayer--a time to buckle down and discover more about what it means to love Christ.  So, if I’m going to continue vomiting my every truthful thought onto this page, I guess what I really want to ask is:  will you walk with me?  I’m not talking about drinking the koolaid or coming over to the dark side—I’m saying will you come with me, step by step, on my flawed and faltering path?  And in return, can you knit me into your imperfect life too?

Is this the part where I say: circle yes, no or maybe?  

Either way, you've got my love and a stitch in my soul.

Love, G