He spoke light and it was. He called out to the ocean depths and they swelled up, but met the shore and came no further. There is no place we can go apart from Him. He holds all together and to Him nothing is hidden.
“Have you commanded the morning since your days began,
and caused the dawn to know its place, Job 38:12
While I pen these weak words a precious friend of mine is breathing some of her final earthly breaths. Soon she will exhale and it will be her last. She’s thirty-five. Thirty-five with a wonderful husband and two full-of-life young children.
Her story is everything I fear most.
I know all the right answers. I believe all the true things. It’s just I can’t seem to quit clawing for some feeling of control. Even if it’s imaginary I want a worldly security blanket that assures me everything will be all right in real time.
I was on the phone the other day with a friend and we were shaking our heads at our twenty year old selves. We believed so much hung on our own abilities. It was narcissistic optimism I suppose, but it was as much about the facade of control as anything. We thought we had more to do with the good in our lives then reality seems to prove.
I don’t believe we should throw up our hands and let fate take its course in our lives. If you’ve been on the field very long you’ve probably felt the soul tugging. The pull that has you hiding in secret so no one knows how much of a mess you feel, how inadequate for the job you know you are. Let me whisper a bit of courage into the uncertainty of it all. In Christ, we live limitless.
What I practically mean to say is live into the limits.
I’ve changed. The girl in my twenties is not the woman who is now braving her thirties. I wake up scared most mornings. In the middle of the night I stare into the black and feel the pressure of the unknown on my chest. I used to be paralyzed by the fear. The choke used to prove too much. Now, on my good days, it motivates me.
My friend I mentioned earlier. The one across town who we’re saying “see you soon” to while fighting back tears. We’ve spent two years in a Bible Study together and most of that time has been during her battle with cancer. If you know my story then you realize my greatest fear is to leave my babies motherless.
A few months back, shortly after the birth of my baby boy, I got to sit and visit with her for a few minutes. A rare thing amidst her illness and constant cycle of treatments. She held my miracle baby, the one I had after a miscarriage and through a frightening emergency c-section. It took my breath away. The bundle of warm life nestled against the thinning skin of my terminally ill friend.
We will lose eternally more than we gain if we let our limits define us. It’s ok to wake up scared, but move past it to the promised peace that can and will pass all understanding. Where our understanding ends Christ holds tight. Where our grasping and clawing leaves us worn thin Christ is our stronghold.
We’ve got nothing to lose. There is nothing that we can lose in this life Christ has not found and redeemed to the greatest extent. Tonight when I’m grasping for answers and a way to make sense of a thirty-five year old mama-sister dying, I’m going to live into the truth. The one thing I can control is my choice to believe and live that belief with the sweet fruit of faith, hope and the greatest of all: love.
I’ll snuggle my babies close. I’ll roll to the middle of the bed instead of clinging to the edge after an argument with my husband from earlier in the day. I’ll leave hope in someone’s mailbox. I’ll unfurl the fist to hold a hand sure and steady.
Where are you being asked to live into your limits in this season?