I’m still a little surprised I heard Him.
Over the sound of buzzing lights and a thunderstorm brewing outside, I heard Him whisper.
I slipped off my socks and shoes. My bare feet standing on a dirt covered floor, I tried to follow His lead.
It’s a little bit of an awkward thing, if I’m being honest, to be invited to dance with one who is bigger than the room you’re in. You can’t exactly wrap your arms around Him.
But I think that’s what I’ve always liked about God: I can’t take over, take control. I’m far too small to take the lead.
I keep thinking about this time that my sister and I tucked ourselves away in this barren cabin in the mountains of Tennessee. We spent hours in silence, waiting for God to show up.
He showed up when we were hiking and face to face with a black bear. And while there were others standing by in awe, I was trying to figure out the best way to get off of the mountain. I was drawing maps and making exit plans, all the while yelling at those who thought this terrifying being was something remarkable.
While I was angry, (and thought everyone had seemingly lost their minds) I envied them. I craved the ability to trustingly stand shoulder to shoulder with something that had the power to crush me.
When a thunderstorm comes, my Dad loves to go out on the porch and watch God do his work.
I always tell him to come inside, it isn’t safe to stand so close.
But barefoot and whirling around that room as thunder echoed, I told God that I didn’t want to run from Him any longer. Though my knees might always knock, I wanted the risk of loving a God that could flatten me.
To love something that’s big enough and mysterious enough to prove me and all of my ideas wrong. Someone who, just by showing up, shows me that my grandest plans are weak, at best.
I think that’s the kind of faith I’ve always wanted. To love something that just might cost me everything. I want to stand as close as possible to something I can’t control and resist my instinct to run away.
There will always be moments we never saw coming.
When our feet are taken out from under us. It’s that moment when you’ll wonder if God is going to break you. He could, you know. He could choose to break your heart. He could make a whole big lesson out of something precious to you. He could deny you all the things you keep telling him are the best thing for you.
But what we choose to do with Him will define the season.
Sometimes you go on a long walk and rain starts pouring before you make it home. You can always duck in somewhere, take cover, hope it passes, and try to make it home later.
Or you can just keep going. You will get soaked, but you will make it home.
I want to get where God’s taking me, even if it doesn’t always go exactly the way I planned. I want to keep believing it’s all because He loves me. I want to stand next to Him, to be close enough to hear Him breathe, to whisper.
I want to accept that whispered invitation, even if I’m left with dirty feet and stumbling around when He seems too big to follow.