I used to think I was something in this world.
I was the Bible scholar (due to my being the pastor’s kid, I think), the believer, the one who knew herself and what she wanted too. Now I know that I’m just a wanderer upon the face of the earth. Much like everyone else, I presume.
Sometimes the reactions of photosynthesis, of which there are many, are easier to understand than myself. And to me, this is unsettling. I become frustrated and anxious when I cannot understand who I am. Consequently, my fears begin mounting. How can I comprehend the intricacies of creation when I cannot grasp the complexities contained within? I do not need to understand the world. But I want to do so, just as I want to know who I am–who I am created to be! In addition, I want to know what my tomorrow will look like–and how I will react to it. But I allude myself as the future alludes me. I cannot be fully known, nor can I fully know what lies ahead, with any nervous system understood by man. It takes a Superhuman and his brain to understand any human. And he always knows, which is both comforting and alarming.
We are human.
We are finitely infinite; only God sees every particle of who we are. From the hairs on our physical head to the scars on our emotional heart, he knows us. The most staggering thing is not that we are completely known, but that we are unconditionally loved. Would you love yourself if you could see everything God sees, from the perspective that God sees it? I do not think that I could love myself after a bitter taste of reality like that.
My doubts about myself and fear of tomorrow have left me somewhat empty. However, over the past year, I have found that God is faithful. He makes many promises, but he is faithful to keep them all. He does say he loves unconditionally, that he always gives grace, that he continually extends forgiveness. His mercies are new every morning and he will never leave or forsake me. I really don’t need to know myself or see the future so long as I have faith.
It was said of Abraham, the Father of Israel, God’s chosen people, that “he went without knowing where he was going.” (Hebrews 11:8) This statement leaves me breathless, every time I read it. It’s worth repeating: “He went without knowing where he was going.” I think Abraham went–physically stood up and moved from his home–not because he knew or was confident in himself. And obviously he did not go because he clearly saw the way. Rather, he went because he trusted God, the faithful promise keeper.
I’m trying to keep this in mind as I wander through the world.
CJH 