Dizzy

Dizzy. Dizzy, dizzy, dizzy as I stand up too fast after spending a few minutes on my face out of reverence for my Father. But I learned something from my own prayer this morning - it was as if He spoke to me through me - like He himself dictated my prayer before it ever made it to Broca's Area in my left frontal lobe to be formulated into a speech-motor-plan.

I know I still need patience, and I even kind of want it, at least deep down, but I'm hesitant when it comes to asking for it directly. I know what happened last time. Someone died. The link connecting me to her disintegrated, making it almost impossible to process the grief I felt - the grief I still feel. The version I knew so well of my best friend (who was the aforementioned link) kind of died, too.

But the fact remains: God is not finished with me, and although it's only been about two months since this whole process began, I can already see progress in myself. I am much more patient than I used to be, but I still have a long way to go. He is asking that I partner with Him - and this is my desire, but I must admit that I am a little afraid - afraid of what he might take next.

Oh the glory when He took our place!
But He took my shoulders and He shook my face
And He takes and He takes and He takes.
-Sufjan Stevens, Casimir Pulaski Day

But then again, isn't that the very point? I do not understand God; his ways are mysteriously puzzling to me. Sometimes He has to take first in order to give. Before it was easy to ask for patience because I knew what I was waiting for, and that it was worth it, or at least, I judged it as such. But now, I do not know what I am waiting for, and believing in it's worth requires an extra measure of faith.