For a quick few minutes, before chaos reenters, I walk through an almost clean dining and living room (it won't stay this way for long). I'm thinking about a talk I'm to give this weekend. Worrying about it, actually.
I usually look forward to these things, sharing stories about our life, our children, our work and our future. And I have a somewhat general idea on what I am to share. A loose outline. A verse here, a deep thought there. But really, it's all jumbled in fuzzy pieces. The image is not yet clear.
For nothing is impossible with God.
The verse for the year. A grand thought.
What is it about this verse that stumps me? I feel uncomfortable with it, like I don't really believe it. I've heard of it and read others testify to it, but I don't think I've seen it.
Or rather, maybe I have, but it's not been impossible enough for me. Maybe I've been ignoring it, unaccepting of it, afraid of it.
So I read it from the Message:
“‘Everyone called her barren, and here she is six months pregnant! Nothing, you see, is impossible with God.’ And Mary said, ‘Yes, I see it all now: I’m the Lord’s maid, ready to serve. Let it be with me just as you say.’ Then the angel left her. ”
I think it's not the impossible I'm to talk about. It's Elizabeth's story.
It's the waiting.
When He calls us to wait
calls us to be still
calls us to be with Him
rest in Him
trust in Him
for the impossible.
What if the staying, the waiting
is what allows us to see, to receive
the impossible?
We have no idea what God is saving us from, saving us for.
Joyful, painful ancitipation. A hopeful longing.
