TRYING OUTSIDE THE LINES

Something I’ve been wondering is whether there is such a thing as praying bold prayers in fear. I was praying last night to know what it means for the joy of the Lord to be my strength, but I realized I was hesitant in my request. Not because that’s not what I really want; I’ve been shown those words again and again recently, I doubt just for nothing. But I was scared because I’m not sure what that answer will look like in my daily life.

I asked God in that moment if I could pray a bold prayer afraid. And then I began to human all over Him. I tried explaining why it scares me. That I don’t doubt his faithfulness, I don’t doubt when and where he speaks to me and what he says. I’m pretty sure that this is something he’s setting in front of me to learn right now, that his joy will be my strength. My terror, what gives me pause, is in how that shows up in my life, especially now in a transition season. I don’t know what I have to lose, to let go, to set down in order to gain. And on the flip side, I have no idea what beauty and grace and strength are on their way. I do have an uneasy feeling that I may not handle either very well at all. I understand the fear of loss; I’m at a loss for words for the fear of blessing.

I rambled the whole, “it’s not that I don’t trust you; I do. I am scared of how I’ll handle whatever you give.” But the more I ponder, I’m not sure that’s so much trust as an excuse. If the shepherd picks up the lost and wandering sheep, if none of the sparrows fall without his say, if the lilies are clothed in the finest petals from no effort of their own… whatever is given from his hand will not be a stone, even if it is delivered in a cold, stone-shaped box.

I am to trust that whatever I ask, he will answer with his unfailing love. In the end, I prayed, “Lord, teach me what it means to find joy in your strength. Actually, that terrifies me. Thank you for remembering that I am dust.”

Hold me like the sheep today, Poppa.