God does hear our prayers, he does lend his ear towards this earth and stretch out his arm that is never too short.
I’ve had a wrestling lately, an uneasy spirit that has resulted in too many sleepless nights, an edginess, but I couldn’t put my finger on it…until.
Until I picked up this book, “Come Matter Here” by Hannah Brencher. It’s her story of an “invitation to be here in a getting there world.”
She learns the art of being present through some dark days. There are so many morsels on these pages. You really need a journal and pen close by.
One paragraph stopped me and forced out a prayer. After a motorcycle ride, making deep left turns, she states “I realized in that moment, with the night air so intoxicating and the engine roaring loudly, that if I ever want to enjoy this journey, I’m going to need to learn how to trust. How to let go. How to admit I’m not in control. I am not the driver; I am just the one who leans left. I need to trust. I need to live like there’s a left turn coming up and I’m expected to lean into it. I need to trust that God will be here to cover the rest.”
I am in a season of left turns but I have been pushing to the right. I am not leaning in to the uncertain and challenging things that God has laid before me. So there is a resistance, there’s a tug-of-war and I am definitely losing.
I caught these three in a rare moment of kindness today. They were laughing, and taking care of each other. If I’m honest, they are usually fighting and causing me heart palpitations. I’ve been pushing right with them, fighting against the powerful, aggressive boys God’s giving me instead of leaning left, pressing into the potential for greatness they have. They feel the push back too and it only causes mutiny. I am going to start looking for more of these moments and stop resisting who they are.
There is a uncertain freedom in leaning into the things that God places before you, even when you feel inadequate, even when you feel anxious, even when you feel afraid. To just lean in and to trust him with the rest. Thank you, Hanna, for your heart and honesty and for teaching Us to be present when our hearts want to run away.