The horse show last weekend exemplified in Senorita what I am so prone to do. As she spooked at the colorful jumps, leaping nearly four feet above the necessary 2’6” rail, her heart pounded in fear that she could not escape the frightening flowerboxes beneath. I too spook and run at the circumstances of life that I do not understand. Yet God is patient, lovingly guiding us straight through the worst of our fears, always knowing what is ahead, and always remaining by our sides to strengthen us on our way, if we will only trust Him and obey.
Whatever happened to “normal” life? Amongst the insanity of various work schedules, school, and a social life, normal becomes only a setting on the dryer. The last months have been worse than bicycling the famous “Hilly Hundred” (which I have yet to attempt), as I’ve battled spiritual depression in my own strength, only to fall again. Desperate for some measure of passion for Christ, I once again opened the pages of A.W. Tozer’s Pursuit of God. Emotionally provoking, I wrote a few pages of lofty aspirations in my journal before returning to the monotony of daily life. Feeling like a failure yet again, I groped through the pages of Romans, Acts, Corinthians, and the following epistles, only to be discouraged by my apathy to the very words of God. Nothing I did was effective in restoring the passion for God I felt I needed, but had lost. In complete despair, I cried out for rescue. I had nothing left to try. As I heard someone say recently, “While you’re on your knees, you might as well pray.”
Though I have not changed anything in my “methodology of devotions,” I have suddenly felt as if God has opened my eyes again. All summer I uselessly searched the star-filled skies for some sense of awe; this week even the midday clouds caused me to gasp in wonder at the majesty of my God. All summer I fruitlessly read my Bible in hopes that I would be challenged to live like the Christian I claimed to be; this week I felt my heart pricked as if there was still some semblance of a conscience stirring within my soul. All summer I promised myself in vain to memorize and meditate on Scripture; last week I copied down Psalm 103 onto flashcards.
I am by no means claiming to be the perfect Christian, but I am claiming to have been redeemed. The Lord is good and gracious to even His wayward children! He is mighty and powerful and worthy of our faith. The God I serve is big enough to solve my miniscule problems, and loving enough to let me walk through the valley of the shadow of death, that I might humble myself and reach for His hand to guide me safely through.