Now You've Gone and Done It

Awakened early this morning with a combination of chaotic sounds drilling a veritable drum beat in my head. The bondage to coffee is awakening a beast within and the mixed tape tripping inside my brain simultaneously crows "Jesus, Name Above All Names" and Katy Perry's "Hot 'n Cold", of all things. I try to squelch the second in favor of the first, all the while reminding myself whose I am and that fear need not be my master . . . again today. The sweat pours, I right myself on the only side that doesn't send shooting pains, and I am jarred into full consciousness with my heart in my throat and its wildly tapping an oddly mingled tempo.

What is already true today? I am unemployed. I am 52. My son did not graduate last night with his classmates. My daughters do not live under my roof anymore. I am an artist. I am divorced. I am in pain. Constant pain. I am still a believer in spite of all that threatens to cause me to stray. I am sinful. I am fallible. I am a lover of beauty. I am a lover of coffee. My life drifts to and fro on an eclectic soundtrack of music that would make a smorgasboard seem small. I am a writer. Yes, this too is STILL true today. Let's zero in on that one for a moment:

I declared it in front of a multitude of strangers yesterday. Why does that simple fact leave me with feelings of fraudulence? Why do the very first conscious thoughts I have this morning chasten me and challenge me to go wipe out the post I so bravely put forth a few hours ago?

What is it that disqualifies me? Why am I so perplexed and frightened by the idea that not only might I have something to say, but also others might actually want to read it? What power threatens to consume my very utterings in favor of continued silence? I find myself like the brimful tea cup. I cannot bear to sustain one more drop unless I am tipped up and poured out for consumption. I have no more room without releasing something into the world around me. Though my heart is overwhelmed and my fingers virtually shake above my keyboard; I know my time has come. I know I must not hesitate any longer.

I know that rather than linger in the shadows, God is calling me, nudging me, pressing the small of my back, and scooting me forward into His marvelous light. He is the gentle ,
yet firm Father of His beloved girl who would never have hidden behind Him when approaching a new adventure at age five. However, the same girl at 52 is far more reticent than the eager kindergartener of long ago in lands far away. Road weary and battle scarred is this one. Horizons are still bright, but she has gravel in her skinned knees and elbows. This gal is far more likely to want to run in the opposite direction of something new and unknown.

Squinting eyes and fluttering heart, I burst forth. I look back at the One who has insisted He will not forsake me even now, and I nod, square my shoulders, and take that first step forward. The earth has not crashed beneath my faltering step! The world has not been set off its axis! The ripple of my tiny step is imperceptible to all but me, and I am comforted. I can do this! I can put my words together into something coherent, something worth sharing, and I feel safe in this moment. One step of faith encourages the next.

All I have experienced thus far, both good and bad, have prepared me for this moment. I cannot shrink behind my self-proclaimed inadequacies, for He has deemed me worthy. I cannot skulk back into the darkness, for His light illumines everything in my gaze. I have no place back there anymore. The very fact of its behindness indicates I not turn in that direction. He demands I move forward, and I take a deep breath. I shiver, though the temperatures climb toward the 90's today in the South. The Spirit leads and guides. He is my helper, and I am not alone. This is my next right thing. I have gone and done it. Come along with me.