Fast Forward

“I raise my eyes toward the mountains.
Where will my help come from?
-Psalm 121:1 (HCSB)

The first image that comes to mind as I read this verse is a scene from Braveheart:

After the guards discover that they have secretly been married, William Wallace sends Murron away on his horse to escape, but does not realize that she is recaptured only seconds later. As they tie her up in the middle of the village, she desperately searches the horizon, still believing that he will come rescue her. But he doesn’t come, and they slit her throat.

I apologize for the morbidity, but I can vividly picture that look in her eye, and it haunts me. It is an emotion that cannot be precisely named – one that I am stricken with from time to time these days. Fortunately, the psalm continues, pointing to a rescuer far more wonderful than Wallace, or any man for that matter.

Beth Moore describes these verses from the perspective of a Hebrew pilgrim:

“He looks at the hills in the distance, wondering and probably even fearing what might be on the other side. He anticipates the long, arduous journey ahead and, like all of us, wishes he could arrive in the blink of an eye rather than feel the effects of life on the road. … You and I are pilgrims here, sojourners on a path with twists and turns, with hills that obscure our view and incite us to fear what may lie on the other side.”

If you’ve spoken to me recently, it’s likely that you’ve heard me mention my desire to press the “fast-forward” button on my life right now. I am a planner, and I don’t like not knowing what lies ahead. Trusting God does not come naturally for me. It is, however, comforting to know that I am not alone in this feeling, and I think that I’m beginning to understand that God is more concerned with the process than with the end result. The nice part is that he’s promised to help us out along the way:

“My help comes from the LORD,
the Maker of heaven and earth.
He will not allow your foot to slip;
your Protector will not slumber. …
The LORD protects you;
the LORD is a shelter right by your side. …
The LORD will protect you from all harm;
He will protect your life.
The LORD will protect your coming and going
both now and forever.”
-Psalm 121:2-3, 5, 7-8 (HCSB)

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.