Thurs, Apr. 17
... Learn to say goodbye
There are days when I feel like everything is out to screw me over. All these doors are closing in front of me, and I can't see any more opening yet. I know that something will happen and there will be open doors, and God will provide, but right now, all I'm seeing are the ones that are slamming in my face.
I want a sign, but I know that won't fix everything. I had an interesting conversation with James, one of the pastors at my church, the other day, and one thing he said really struck me. He said, "We ask God for signs, but signs don't eliminate the doubt."
Interesting concept. I can ask God for the fleece, something to give me a definite answer yes or no, but just because he may give that doesn't mean that all the questions I had have been answered. The doubts have to be dealt with and answered, not just covered up with a band-aid. Sometimes, a sign is more like a band-aid than a solution.
Sometimes God gives them, definitely. Sometimes, the need for a direct sign from God--a lightning bolt across the sky--is great. But I think that more often, decisions are made through intense prayer and soul-searching. I think that makes the answer more real sometimes. I can claim it, because I've spent so much time searching for it, and in the process, more of my questions have been answered.
I don't know. I don't know how it fits into everything, and when these doors will be opened. I can't say what I want, because I don't know that, either.
So, I go spend that time, those days, with God, and I seek the answers. There are answers somewhere, I just don't know where yet.
One year ago today: I found out an interesting fact the other day--some of us were talking about birthdays, and how April seems to be a pretty popular month for them (none today, though!), and I found out that the end of March and into April is so popular in Calgary because it's nine months after the Stampede. For real! That's when the birth rate in Calgary is highest! Crazy, hey?
infinite || abyss
posted at 10:22 a.m.
