“Jesus replied, ‘You don’t understand what I am doing, but someday you will.” -John 13:7 (NLT)
Often, faith requires trusting and accepting that what we may never in understand in this life is in the hands of the God who loves us.
The last few weeks have been an odd mix of faith and fear for me.
I have fasted. I have prayed. I have thought I heard God’s voice speak to me one day, and I have thought the silence from heaven would overwhelm me the next.
I have never been so confused or so thrilled with God’s own peculiar way of loving me.
I can’t easily articulate how I got here, to a darkness that seems like a tomb. Nothing has changed except me.
In the middle of this soul cave I have realized that I am holding Ishmael. God has new dreams for my heart, and these old ones are shriveling up a bit.
Ishmael is important, but he’s no Isaac. I look at my Ishmael dreams and I ache because I see what I wish could be God’s promise fulfilled and completed… but it just isn’t.
The hope of an Isaac sometimes seems too good to be true.
Isaac is something only God can begin. And even that word “begin” nauseates me, because I’m not sure I have the strength to start at the beginning of faith dreams again.
Wrung out or not, I have made promises to do whatever my King asks of me. My blind devotion has led me here, and I must rely solely on His holy words. His Kingdom comes from somewhere other than this natural world I can touch and smell and see. I must believe before I know for certain.
When you believe for a miracle, you come to accept that miracles don’t make sense.
It’s not so much that I am done, but that I have been undone, and every part of me is sure that God wants something more to come from my life.
I am waiting for Isaac.
Someday when I hold my Isaac and laugh at God’s goodness, it will all make sense. Until then, I pray my heart proves faithful, brave, and true to the One I love most of all.
