Birmingham.
Downtown Birmingham. If you look on a map, it looks like a spider web. And at its center? Chicken. Or so we thought. Children in back seat hungry and vocal. Me and sis up front with GPS. Confident. Ok, semi-confident.
I know you are already guessing it. But let me tell you creatively the assumption that we got lost. Oh, and we did. The first GPS address led us to a "one way" street chick-fil-a. Which was also a closed chick-fil-a!
Re-computing. Well I hope so Lila. Yes, I name nameless things. And if I am going to be yelling, uur no...talking to my GPS, clearly she needs a name!
At this point, we laugh a bit. One way streets are not this country girl's thing. Give me a Combine taking up the road and I will assume the ditch till it passes... But one way roads? No thank you. Sis programs next nearest address, and we continue on. In this pursuit of the best nuggets on the planet.
Dear. Dear Lila. She has issues. We began to realize the depth of her need when the second Chick-fil-a she found apparently shares an address with a large Presbyterian church!! The following is our reactions...
As we stood there trying to figure out if the Presbyterian church had a drive thru window, we got into a fit of giggles.
Why Lord, are we lost, in a senseless search for chicken? And Lord.... Where is the freeway we got off of?
I am thankful my sis is a good sport, and an amazing car travel buddy. We have the best of times... In the car! This isn't our first rodeo... So we get out the camera and the jokes and we overcome hunger with laughter!
So why might you ask am I telling you all this? Well. Because I was lost in a grid. A spider web of roads, that though I am sure had purpose, were a tangle of frustration and emotion for this Kansas girl. Here's what I know. Grids don't scare God. In the midst of our lost, searching, chicken crazed minds... There was Jesus. For as we sat at a stop light, I happened to look up to my right. And He spoke. Just like that.
Not to my vanity. Not to my wishes. Not to my fleshly need for compliments. He spoke to the core of me.
See just that morning I had told my sis that I wished I could believe my husband and God, when it came to my body. My sweet man is always telling me how lovely I am. He tells me that I am beautiful the way Jesus formed me, the way He chose me in design... And God tells me too. In psalm 139, and in personal words as I stand skeptic at the mirror.
I am a full figured woman in a skinny obsessed culture. I am curve in a straight lane. A round about in a world of stop signs. And it seems no matter how well I eat, work out, drink a ton of water, and take supplements... This is me. So I struggle with two voices. The world's, and my Jesus. Him in my deepest soul, and in my husband's adoration. And I ask myself often. If my Gods opinion isn't enough, and my husbands attention isn't satisfying me full...what is this really about? Sadly... It's about me. Me wanting acceptance. So I get lost in a world of comparison and lies. If your a woman? Yeah. I know you get me here. It is tough. To believe. In a loud world.
So. Jesus turned up heavens volume. He lost me into Birmingham, to find me His message on stone.
" Look to the right baby girl, see what is true. My true. How I see You."
I grab my sisters arm! " Take a picture! Take a picture!"
Our soul knows doesn't it? Those moments when His Spirit comes. Communing in the deep of us, with a message laiden with wealth and all heaven.
You. Are. Beautiful.
That's when I realized that Jesus doesn't worry about how locked in "the grid" we are. How lost in the web we feel. His truth can always find us. Always. And it did. I knew in a mere moment that holy just happened. That God heard the questions gnawing me that morning, and He answered. In an obvious, loud, raw paint on brick moment. I heard a voice louder than the magazine cover. Louder than the woman to my right or left. Louder than the TV, or the too small sizes at the store. My God says I am beautiful. So. I am.
And so are you.
What are your grids? What webs keep us strained from the real accuracy of Jesus Christ?
He doesn't get threatened by our mind webs. Our grid lock downs. But we, on the other hand, can nurture our grid organized, and keep ourselves from His touch. From His voice. How?
Doubt.
This fear that God won't come. This scared heart that Jesus won't be that personal. This fear that what He says about us may not be true.
We cannot comprehend God outside our own understanding. So we set up a grid. Our attempt to assemble reason and logic to soul chaos. Because our mess needs some organization right? We have to stay poised and functioning. So we "grid cope" our way through this unpredictable life.
I have lots of grids friends. Grids I have to challenge everyday. And the more I look at them, the more I realize... I don't believe Jesus can do, what I can't figure out. Like...
Believing God will heal me like He said He would, when doctors say it's hopeless.
Believing He can heal relationships so tangled, I think cats would be afraid to touch that ball of yarn.
Believing He will tell me what to do in the daily practical when I ask.
Believing He can raise my children when I am a mess.
Believing. That God is indeed personal.
~ Oswald Chambers
There is this war. The flesh of us, living next to the real of us. Because faith, and all the true of Jesus is what is really true. And we have to choose daily if we are going to recklessly fall into the risk of believing Him.
Believing Jesus.
Not trusting my carefully set up and all so logical grid, but instead, the person of Jesus Christ.
So we spin. Fear thick like smoke and hearts pounding like the march of an enemy drawing near. Questions reverberating from the core of us. What if Jesus doesn't come? With His voice. With His help. With His answer. With His intervention... Because if He doesn't save me, I will die. Slow soul death left alive.
So I jump. Because throwing myself at His feet in surrender is better than death coming from the human of me. This habit of self counsel and internal analyzations. Because let's face it. We make ourselves toxically sick. Sick with all our grids and self helps. All our muscle-less attempts to sturdy and get through. Without a Savior, we will perish. And one of the worst ways to die, is this death of soul while alive walking. This hopeless living. This numb person who lives lost.
I had a moment this week. In the midst of writing this post. A crossroads of sorts. Calling out to Jesus in soul agony... And He said one word. Surrender.
This word usually invokes fear. This instant contemplation of what will be taken from me! I know you know what I mean. But this time it was different. I was ready. Because I literally felt all my ways, thoughts, and attempts were slowly poisoning me. This feeling of knowing your are not supposed to focus on the wall, while uncomfortablely pressed up against it. What?!!
So I let go. On my knees and hands open wide. "Jesus. I can't do this anymore." I gave up the grid. Gave up my way of thinking that only led to more and more loss as days went by. And Jesus didn't give me instant answers. He didn't tell me it would workout just so. He didn't make my ugly go away. But He released my suffocation, and gave me peace.
I ache to be whole. And Jesus is the only One who can heal that deep. He is the only one who can undo my messy, controlling, grid lock. He is the only One who can see clearly through the heart of Birmingham.
He is the only One who can restore us from captivity.
Psalm 126:4-6 says:
" Restore our captivity, O Lord, as streams in the South. Those who sow in tears shall reap with joyful shouting. He who goes to and fro weeping, carrying his bag of seed, Shall indeed come again with a shout of joy, bringing his sheaves with him."
We can sow our tears. We can sow our grapple. We can workout our trials with Jesus. Because He is the only way to restoration.
You know. We finally found a Chick-fil-a. It was after we gave up, and got back onto that freeway. And when we got there, do you know what we found?
His word. Laid open.
The owners well worn bible. Laid open amidst condiments and napkins. Hope for those accepting.
And we did.
Like a soul smile running deep. Hear this. Jesus always holds us. He can always lead us out of our Birmingham. His word, laid bare, always ready to feed the hungry.
Maybe it's time? Kneel and let go. You'll find there is air outside your minds web. That despite logic, there is hope in reckless falling.
He is still my Savior.
