A Quiet Month

Almost an entire month has passed since I wrote last.  A dear friend, Michael, asked me the other day why I'd not been writing.  I told him I had nothing to say, nothing of value, my time has been so crazy, I've felt dead and flat in my spiritual walk and communion with God.  I figured such a state of mind and spirit was not a healthy one in which to share life with others on a blog that I hoped would edify its readers.

He thoroughly disagreed with me.  Michael felt it would be the perfect time to write; that certainly if I felt this way during a particular time of my journey in the single world, then others would as well. And I did not need to have an answer at the end of the blog.  He expressed that I did not need to come to a perfect, godly conclusion at the end of every entry.  I could leave off in a state of still wondering and seeking, exactly the same way many of us go to bed at night. Wondering.  Seeking. Hoping.  But, knowing. 

This past month or so has been one of the sense of flatness.  Is that a word for feelings? For spiritual conditions? Flat.  Nada. Empty. Lifeless.  Survival mode.  Stagnant.  If I was a pond, I think there would be a lot of green scum floating atop my surface.  I have not felt the vibrant life of a fresh breeze that offers oxygen for life for all that teems below the surface of the water.

I met with my small group Bible study the other night. This is a group of ladies who keep each other accountable, prayed for, safe in confidentiality, and fully loved.  I am one of them.  They are part of me.  At our meeting the other night, I let down my guard and blurted out that I am angry with God and unable to go directly to Him in prayer, Bible study, and need because I am afraid of what He will require of me.  I am so weary of the road I am on in this singleness, I want change.  But, will that change only come when I have to do something of which I loathe the very idea?  Will I have to stay single forever?  Will I have to remarry my former spouse?  I feel like a young college student at a revival meeting, convicted by God to go to the mission field, but she begs God, "I'll do anything you want, just please don't send me to Africa!!!!!"

I want to do anything God asks.  But, I have been fearful.  Fearful that God has only desires to keep me tired, miserable and oppressed in life.  How doggone sick and wrong is that!!!!!! My group of ladies reminded me of God's massive goodness. It is His very character.  He is Love to me, for me and over me.  If He was to ask me to do something tough, would He not prepare the way for me to make it the delight of my heart to do so?  Does He not know my concerns, my heartaches, my yearnings?  Is He not the greatest lover of my soul? 

I've let fear keep me away from my Father in heaven.  And in doing so, I've sought other things to fill the pains and voids.  I've felt empty and lacking in peace.  I've avoided my Bible, for fear of a bright red Bible verse that says, "Take your husband back NOW!"  I've not been able to worship in song.  I've avoided conversations when folks ask how I am.  I don't want to discuss it.  If I had to be honest, it might sound ugly.

It would be ugly. 

Fear.  I have been afraid of God, my Abba, my Father.  What more will He ask of me? How much more skin has to come off my back to appease Him?  Oh, how offensive and hurtful these words must sound to Him.  I sit here in complete awareness of the folly of those thoughts; of how desperately He is drawing me to Himself, how much He loves me; how He longs for me to fellowship sweetly with Him and not fear.  I'm sorry, Father.

Lift me, Father. I'm weary of crap.  I'm tired of strife and tension.  I am sick of being under the microscopic, myopic vision of small minded people.  I long to just be free and at peace in you.  You want me there, don't You, no matter my circumstances?  You want me unafraid, and thus dwelling in Your perfect love, right? Is that what I hear you whispering to me as I sit in this chair by the fireplace?  I think so.

I'm flat.  Like an air mattress long removed from the air pump.  Fill me with you...I will not be afraid.

I love you, Lord.
And thanks, Michael.  I love you, too.