Unfettered Faith

Today I had another epiphany of sorts that has allowed me to broaden my perspective and strengthen my faith.

There has been this common thread woven throughout the sermons at my church. Slow down. Make time for God. Life happens so fast that we get caught up in it and miss the things we should be listening for. I’ve heard stories from other people about these amazing signs and messages they received from God. How God spoke to them and guided them. Yet I wasn’t experiencing those things. I was still in the same place, walking the path I thought I should be on, assuming it would lead me to the destination I was meant to arrive at… but with no real sense of direction or certainty. It was frustrating and disconcerting. I often felt like I wasn’t walking fast enough, or maybe I missed a turn and needed to double back to look for a sign. Maybe I hadn’t been walking long enough. It had to be me. I was clearly the problem. I just needed to walk with more purpose. Listen harder. Do better. I felt stuck.

I think when people tell their stories of their revolutionary signs from God, we tend to assume that this is the only way it happens. So often, we don’t hear about the quiet signs. Maybe b/c we don’t recognize them for what they are, or perhaps b/c people don’t feel like they are as story-worthy as the big ones. I don’t know why, but I can tell you that I have heard more testimony about hearing God in neon signs instead of silent braille. I wish there was some big dramatic epiphany that I could describe. There isn’t. Just your standard, run of the mill, human “aha” light bulb moment, rooted heavily in hindsight and reflection. I was listening too hard. Or rather, I was listening for a frequency that wasn’t audible. My signs and messages were always there. But I was looking for flashing lights and neon signs. Instead, it was a decision to go somewhere or speak to someone. An urge to post a blog. A job opening. A text message. A hug. 

Let me try to better clarify what I mean. Today was our last meeting for our women’s bible study group until next year. I haven’t been in the best place mentally or emotionally for the last week or so. I went into the building with the certainty that if I chose to open up and share I would absolutely break down and that just wasn’t on the to-do list for today. The message today couldn’t have been more on point, which only served to push my volatile emotions closer to the surface. I listened to the amazing women around the table speak from their hearts, but I remained silent. By the time someone mentioned that I hadn’t gotten to contribute, time was up. We said our goodbyes and promised to stay in touch with each other. Until someone asked me that forbidden question. The one that breaks the last reserves of emotional fortitude and releases the flood of feelings. “Are you okay?” I broke down, despite my best efforts, but didn’t elaborate on the why. We prayed and hugged some more, and after several tissues and a lot of snot, we parted ways. I walked out of the building and turned toward the parking lot… and then I paused. I really needed to pee. I could make it home without any issue and more often than not I will do just that. I’m not the biggest fan of public restrooms. But for whatever reason, today I decided to go back inside and use the bathroom. As I was drying my hands at the sink, I turned to leave and there was the woman who had asked me if I was ok. We left together, and she shared that she had just been wishing that she could have talked to me more. She offered to buy me a coffee and sit and talk with me for a bit. Against my nature, I said yes. She listened to me cry and purge all of my worries and pain that I had been damming up for some time now. After an hour and a half (and another full bladder) we parted ways and I felt a tremendous weight lifted from me. I felt my joy and happiness seeping back into my bones. THIS was God. Where? In the timing of our final meeting when I was at a low point. In the message that I needed to hear specifically today. In running out of time so I didn’t share my woes publicly. In the acted upon concern of “are you ok?” In my decision to pee in a public restroom. In the offer of coffee and a shoulder to cry on. In the uncharacteristic confiding of my hurt and pain. 

I’ve always just assumed that “slow down” was monosemic. I thought it meant that if I slowed down in the moment then I would hear Him. I didn’t consider that I could slow down to reflect and identify God’s directions and subsequent destinations. It is truly one of the coolest things. To replay a scene and highlight the God-winks. To run it all the way through to the end and stand in awe of how His gentle guidance brought me to the exact place I was meant to be. Acknowledging that I can “hear” more than I thought I could has been a big factor in overcoming my feelings of being “stuck” in my faith. It has given me the perspective to see that everyday leads me down the right fork in the road. Every decision is my spiritual GPS guiding me to my predetermined destination. I may get stubborn sometimes and take the long way, but God always recalculates my trajectory. I imagine him shaking his head, muttering “oh child” in these moments, exasperated but amused. The more connections I make between my choices and their results, the more I feel I am serving a purpose. The more I feel I am serving a purpose, the closer I feel to God.