one of my favorite things about living in crestwood is that, when you’re driving home at just the right time, it seems that your car could drive straight into the golden sunset. and the skies turn pink and purple and blue, and everything’s a glorious swirl of colors all at once, and it makes you stop and catch your breathe, and wonder at your bigness and smallness all at once–that the same God who made the sunset, is in charge of the cosmos…and also knitted and formed you in your mother’s womb.
and if you’re like me, you probably drove home, and parked your car, and walked up the hill to your house, lugging your hebrew bible and backpack (do people even call it that anymore?) and dinner and purse and keys, loaded down with physical burdens. and maybe some other burdens too.
and it’s awful hard as you sit in your room, and try to translate Isaiah, and eat dinner, and write, to remember that the same God who created that sunset, who called you into being, is also in control, as you sigh and worry and regret and feel like you can’t even hope anymore, and carry all those not-so-physical burdens into your room. they seep into the silence of your soul and start making you really anxious, really fast.
because the truth is that i don’t have the answers anymore. i thought i did. the last six months have brought me to an understanding, more than anything, that i’m not in control, and i don’t have all the answers. at least, not the easy ones.
i don’t know what’s next. i don’t know where i’ll be in five or ten years, or who i’ll be with. for some people, that’s freeing and exciting, but not for an emotional, not-impulsive ISFJ like me. i want to have a life plan. i want to have everything written. i want to know, and to get over the hard parts already, and to be assured that good things are coming.
mostly, probably what i need to do is to get back in my car and drive back again through that sunset, and marvel at the wonder of creation, that the same God who formed the heavens and the earth has ordained even this moment. that he is sovereignly in control and that he has a plan–and i’m not in control of it. that he will be faithful to me–because all he’s ever been is faithful.
i know it’s not an easy answer. the easy answer would be, well, do this. apply here. live in this place. instead, i get a hard answer, and that answer is to abide. to trust. to choose joy. to hope in the Lord and to believe that his promises are true, even when i can’t trace his hand. because he’s creator, and he’s my father, and he’s good.
it might not be an easy answer, but it’s the right one.
when i’m overcome by fear, and i hate everything i know
if this waiting lasts forever, i’m afraid i might let go
i’m afraid i might let go
i need a reason to sing, i need a reason to sing
i need to know that you’re still holding the whole world in your hands
and i need a reason to sing
will there be a victory?
will you sing it over me now?
your peace is the melody–
you sing it over me now.