All In the Past?

Galatians 5:7 ~
       "You ran well.  Who hindered you from obeying the truth?"

He had preached that Word, the night before.  It had certainly felt strong.  You ran well.  Past tense.  He had preached a strong Word.

But, this morning with no Preacher and no Crowds, it felt oddly different.  Alone with You, it felt far more haunting.  Strong certainly still, but today the strength was intertwined with a terribly haunting Word.  You were no longer talking to the Crowd, You were now talking in a singular fashion - You were talking to just me.

And last night's Word was no longer a collective challenge but an early morning singular rebuke.

I had ran well.  Truly "well" is based on perspective, for there would be countless others struggling under the suffocating arm of persecution who may find my "well," well rather weak.  But, from my past perspective in light of who I am and certainly in light of who I am not, I had ran well.

At least I had been running.

Of late I have felt the stationary, immovable, lead in the legs, dead in the water, I had hit the runner's wall and well, collapsed.  I have been laying in a bloodied, sweat soaked heap for quite some time.  No forward progress.

And. Muscles. Have. Atrophied.


All those years ago he too had preached a good word.  On the phone that day, after they had crashed planes into towers and it all fell shattered to the ground.  Buildings, bodies, dreams and our safety and our stability was all broken and bloodied, strewn about the asphalt.

All that bloodied mess and my XO was buried somewhere on the bottom of the ocean - thousands of gallons of water and as many miles lay between us and I was lost, wandering lost.

And he said those strong words, he preached a strong message that day on the phone and I have carried it ever since.

My earthly father spoke for my Heavenly Father and in the midst of my wandering lost -
       "Put one foot in front of the other, Jennie, no matter what happens in life - you put one foot in front of the other, you take another step forward.  Always.  No matter what.  One.  More.  Step."

That afternoon I laced up my shoes and I put one foot in front of the other and my Father began to guide me out of my wandering lost.

And in a number of months the XO resurfaced and slowly we learned a new safety, a new stability in our new world.

But, I have carried those words - No matter what, always put one foot in front of the other - I carried those words into Ethiopia and I clung to them in police stations and through fits of rage aimed squarely at me and during long nights with no sleep and through easy days and through frightfully painful days - Always. One. Foot. In. Front. Of. The. Other. Always.

Heavenly Father has carried me down long roads and over bumpy terrain through my dad's words.  Never. Stop. Running.

And now, it feels all so past tense.  Ran.  It feels all behind me and now I am stuck.  Not running.  Just wallowing.

(vs 7 & 8) ~ "You ran well.  Who hindered you from obeying the truth?  This persuasion does not come from Him who calls you. . . "

And who had hindered me?  And what persuasion had they used?

The same lie sold down the line to countless of His adopted sons and daughters -

I was NOT good enough.  Spiritual enough.  Not chasing Jesus hard enough.  Not enough.  NEVER enough.

They had said that and I had believed it and the stepping steps screeched to a crumbling halt.  And now I am just a bloodied, sweat soaked mess of a me.

But, this morning without the crowd and He quietly asked, "Why aren't you running well?"  And I had to answer I believed a lie and He reminded me, "I never said that . . . that thing about enough, that awful lie of your lack - that had not come from Me."

"This persuasion does not come from Him who calls you." (vs 8)

The "you are not enough" lie, that ugly persuasion had not come from Him.

But, buried under the bloodied mess I had become, lost in the lie I had believed, was another lie I allow - that I am enough, or not enough, because of me.

After all these years, I still get ensnared in that nasty trap - as if this has ANYTHING to do with me, or even with you.  When it only has to do with Him, Whom has called me.

He is, was and always will be - ENOUGH.

I am prone to paralysis only because I believe I can run hard and somehow earn my keep.  I can put another fast foot in front of the other and in some way race my way into His acceptance.

When reality says - He already opened His arms wide in acceptance and I can just simply fall bloodied and sweaty into Him.  And that is surely ENOUGH.  Always, eternally - ENOUGH.

And with tongues wagging, telling a tale of my lack and my limping lope is not sufficient to their standard, I remember who You are and who that makes me and that is how I put one foot in front of the other - yesterday, today and tomorrow.  And that is ENOUGH.

A Poem

A Poem, the only thing you would ask.

What should be a mere, simple task  -

Feels quite monumental, entirely out of my grasp.

But of late, I see the shoulders hung weary,

The tears trapped, making tired eyes blurry.

I too, know the bone weary, the head hung,

For far too many others, on your shoulders are slung.

One request,

quite out of my grasp.

So, I look to the heavens for borrowed Word,

One Word, one simple Word.

Now of all unanswered questions, or late night cry sessions,

Will you be cured?

No.

But, one Word, one simple Word from heavens,

And the burden certainly lessens.

So here it is, my feeble attempt, we will give it ago.

You stand as protector far into the night,

When land lays void of even a sliver of light.

And you beg Good Creator to protect with His might.

Now for yourself, do you ask?

Oh, for certainly not,

It is OUR wars you have fought,

Entirely, it is OUR victories you have sought.

For to you, our sin and our hurt we have brought.

For the number you have carried,

To your wants, needs and dreams you have buried.

To the depths of you that are lost,

We will never understand the cost.

You paid.

For this foundation, you have laid,

And our home safe, you have made.

As your own needs, must fade.

It feels far too weak.

Here.  It feels far too weak to just end  -

This simple word to your burden, it cannot contend 

But yet, a simple word is all we have to lend,

To you, our Dad and truly our best friend.

We often forget or do not rightly see,

All that you do to allow us to be free,

Free to grow and safely seek He.

Or free to just be  -

We often don’t, won't see.

But, on this day for this brief moment,

Heaven cracks and a tear is rent,

Eternal Father, to you His eyes are bent.

And we join with Him and He gathers with us,

For one simple word with no attitude or fuss  -

Thank you.