When you are cast about in a deep blue ocean surrounded by an expanding horizon you are at The Mercy.
Some would say you are at the mercy of fate…whatever will be will be. (As if que sera had any real mercy attached to it.)
Some would say the world is now your oyster; it is the time to spend the Currency of Entitlement.
Some would say you earned it.
They would say, “Go ahead, show your I PAID MY DUES card.”
But you are not at the mercy of fate, or random, or what ever will be. You are before the mercy of none other than Jesus. Even though you find yourself without distinct markers for the next phase of your life, even though it seems like you are floating in a sea of whatever may come, you are actually being led before the great merciful eye of the Almighty.
The One who knows the ebb and flow of every wave you ride upon.
Who rights you as you ride into the unknown. You are in transition, the in-between place.
This transition requires the hard work of pushing through while keeping the raft steady. Like the transition of childbirth, there is the bringing forth of what a glorious coupling had conceived so long ago; that now the new coupling of the hard work and the hard faith will see to fruition.
It can be a jolting experience.
My own raft jolts a bit when I look over the expanse of the elbow worn dining room table without plates, without crumbs. It tips precariously when I walk through vacated bedrooms cluttered still with girl shoes flung and school papers strewn. I lean into the sway of the quiet, breathless spaces that a very long time ago I actually wanted.
I notice the walls are in need of a new coat of paint. The mirror in the little bathroom needs replacing, the rugs need a deep cleaning. Yet if I move things, if I re-orient, then I am saying things have changed for real.
And there it is.
It’s in the movement of the thing, the going from one place to another, the gaining of ground, the stepping in to new territory that requires some kind of faith.
If it’s a Kingdom of God’s doing, then it’s all moving forward. If I am at His mercy, His leading, then I am not floating.
I am sovereignly directed.
I can be confident in the One who holds the past, present, and future in His hands to move me to the next thing.
It does not matter that I’ve really just done the One Mother Thing for the better part of thirty years and don’t really know how to do anything else.
It does not matter that I cannot see where it is that I am going and the irony is not lost that this is the year I succumb to full time glasses.
It does not matter that I am beginning to see that loose skin around the knees comes to us all and that it actually hurts to kneel so my kneeling before Him has become my lying face down.
It is only by His grace that I attribute this particular phenomenon to His brilliance in fashioning more humility into this ever- brittling body of mine.
But this is just prep school.
It is not just a glimpse into the future but six months of learning and re-learning.
It is a continuation of practicing the Art of Flexibility.
To be ready in season and out of season for God’s brilliance to manifest in its proper time.
When the leaves burn fire and begin to fall, the table will be elbow and crumb full and the bedrooms will once again be will be girl flung.
There will be more mothering to do until the next leaving.
For now in this transition time, I am digging down deep, finding a strength that comes from the hidden places and I am pushing toward and being led into the next thing. It is in this place that I will discover new talents, new spheres of influence and new places to lay down before Him.
A gift came to me today in one of my readings:
“Faith never knows where it is being led but it loves and knows the One who is leading.” – Oswald Chambers
The mercy and grace of His brilliance toward me is astounding.