Wreckage

The coffee in my mug has gone cold as I sit looking out over the corn that has begun to tassel - soon it will be down and I will no longer see before me the prospects of a glorious maze waiting to be discovered.
As I so often do, I've let the weeks past conjure up a sort of longing in me - I've let this longing become so conjured, in fact, that I've not taken the efficient amount of time to let my heart be moved for Him. So I set out today, to get back on track - to get caught up with what I should have been caught up by everyday of forever.

You see, I  have these days - I get in these moods where I sit down before an open journal, my Bible and the scenery that has etched itself into my memory and I think today I just want to be wrecked by something. I whisper, in desperate and fevered prayers, just let me be wrecked today; wreck me, Lord - with Your word, with some one's words, just let me be slayed.

So the coffee in my mug has gone cold,  but I'll drink it anyway, as I think about what I've been spending all my time doing these last few weeks in between worrying about getting a job, worrying about how I might pay my bills, worrying, worrying, worrying. I certainly was not hitting my knees and giving Him the trouble that was making me sick - I was, in fact, spending all extra time away from summer camp and children crying and panicking and growing fearsome seeds of distaste and neglect in my heart. Looking back on these moments - these tears and nights of little sleep and maximum anxiety, I realize that then, more than ever, I should have been praying to be wrecked. No, it was in those moments, that I should have been feeling the most wrecked of all.

I was receiving one extra paycheck into August than what I originally had thought . . . grace that should've wrecked me

I had family members that offered to help me pay what needed to be paid - kindness that should have slayed me

I had a House Church community in continual prayer for what was to come . . . utter faith in my story, that I lacked, that should have knocked me off my feet

But there was no being wrecked - I could not be swayed from my steadfast post of worry and panic. I kept thinking, "I'll just take a step back from all of this and hope I can come back to it better . . ."

There is no stepping back, only running away, when it comes to the Author of the universe.

There are no moments of not being wrecked, when you get to wake up every morning to a new day and the freedom to be.

There is nothing, absolutely nothing, that happens in each second, each moment, of your life that is not grace when He knows exactly what will happen and how it can be used in your testimony to bring Him glory.

There is no reason I should feverishly be in prayer for words or moments or conversations to wreck me when, the truth of the matter is, I am able to write and experience words and moments and conversations - and that alone - should bring me to my knees.

I was offered a job - but He knew that would happen all along, in the eleventh hour, at the height of my angst, in the depths of my lows. And that slays me.
Because - what's a job compared to bodies being burned, ravaged, and used all over the world?
Because - what's a job when children in the very school I worked a year for go hungry on the weekends?
Because - what's a job that pays bills when I'm neglecting the job of winning hearts for the Man who lost His own to save mine?

The coffee in my mug has gone cold, but I will finish it. I will finish it and sit here completely swollen with gratitude and trembling awe. I will finish it and sit here completely wrecked.
Because - I am looked after by the same One who named the stars and walked on water.
Because - He hears my prayers before I even say them aloud - He hears my prayers when I don't even recognize them as such.
Because - I am His. He calls me His own.

And, that alone, should wreck me.