introspection: small
When I was in Melbourne, Pastor Tim taught me one way of journaling and examining my inner world. I call it I am, I feel, I see. It has become a really useful tool for introspection, and I use it at times when I have alot to get off my chest.
I am a mere pebble in a raging river. A beggar that feeds off tables. I’m humbled by the uncertainty of life. Tonight, I sat heartbroken as Dad told Steven he had cancer. And I went to my room, and cried. Because how can life be so bittersweet, veer so suddenly from ordinary to harsh in a moment, a flash? It makes one look so small. Life is so unpredictable, rarely telling you which way it will turn. How will I know if I have enough strength to deal with life’s downs?
I feel little. Overawed. Very, very humbled. How do we find our place in this big, big world? How can we learn to hear and trust Him, when life deals so many unexpected challenges that seek to divide us, fracture us, break us? I feel a bit defeated. How, Father?
I see the God of all Creation, Father of all nations, the One who knows. The One who makes the storm, who calms the storm. The One who speaks in a thunder, who whispers in a still small voice. He cannot be boxed, contained in a philosophy or bumper sticker. He is Beyond.
And yet, He cares. He cares deeply about my human experience. He cares deeply about the choices I make, the aches in my heart, the moments I doubt. He’s ever-present. Especially when I don’t deserve it.
I’m not alone. I feel lonely, but I’m not alone. He whispers, he moves, he comforts. In a world that never teaches us to still a raging, restless heart, He comes to bring peace. I am His. In His hand. In the arms of grace.
There are so many things I don’t understand about life. But Father, all I know is You’re present. You’re present in my iniquities, in my sin, in my joys, in my crossroads. You’re here.
Speak Lord. Never stop speaking. May my ears be clear to hear. Lead me to listen, choose, follow. And to negotiate life best I can.
Amen.
