At the beginning of the year, I found myself writing a lot about seeking and the unsettled ache and the continual true end: my home in Christ. It is the place where I am small in his shelter, where I am loved and treasured as the object of his affection, where I recognize the questions, answers and meaning as finding their end in him.
This morning, on the heels of much activity and travel and birthday parties for my summer girls and good things and warm weather life that’s filled me up and worn me out, I know the longing as a constant companion. And through the times of busyness, I feel the ways I’m reaching.
Several weeks (months?) ago, my friend Lori Harris said that she’s allowing herself to sit still in the question Jesus asks in Scripture, What do you want me to do for you?
This morning, my life looks like a cup of coffee that’s been stirred through with half and half, and it’s just beginning to slow (for a few moments at least), and so I’m asking myself this question again.
Allowing myself to answer that I am reaching, I am needy, and so what I want from Jesus is, honestly, everything. And also to become small again, for I desire that any light I shine in this world points the way back to the ever-gleaming Beacon.
This morning, I realize my desire for purpose, confidence, wholeness and peace, and so these are parts of my answer to the What do you want me to do for you question. I see as clearly as the hand in front of my face the ways I can never grasp them when I’m climbing and clawing.
Back in the spring, when I took a long time of silence, I felt God tell me that he made me in part to speak and to write.
This morning, I believe, and I doubt. I wonder, What is a writer when the words don’t come? Who is a speaker that is terrified to speak?
I long to write, and in the quiet spaces of my mind words are slow drips from a faucet or bees flitting to clover, for I cannot cup or catch enough of them lately to make anything. I feel God’s closeness when I prepare to speak and when I stand before a group to share, but when I think about it, my insecurities rear up like catty dragons and this fear of failing from atop a stage is almost more than I can bear.
This is my own faith journey to walk, and you have your own, but friend, know that I and you will only know Home when we believe that IT is not found out there — in the adoration of people — or even in here — with confidence that we know precisely what we are doing, with our rule following and movement through life with competence and well-honed skills.
We must believe in what is unseen, stand on what’s been spoken from the Source even when we feel shaking knees and worry that floors will drop out from beneath, even when we’re terrified.
This morning, I’m reaching for the hand that does not move.
And every song that plays as I write embodies my longing and ache, this heart’s cry for Jesus — these chords a steady stirring of all that is forever and is continually being remade.
Joining with Kate Motaung and the Five Minute Friday crew with today’s prompt: REACH, and my words that took longer than five minutes. Thank you for hearing my scattered, seeking heart. I am so grateful for you as I lay my in-progress life before you.
Connecting through the power of stories written, spoken and lived
That fear of falling can get you if you let it. There was a line in a movie I’ve watched at some point that I love. I just takes 30 seconds of insane courage to do anything. So go do it. Push past the fear and take the leap. Oh how great it is when He catches you! Blessings!
Learning to leap, Mollie…and trusting the one who catches. Thank you for your that encouragement. Bless you, and thanks for being here today.
He asked me that question a few years ago while on a summer walk at the cottage. Except with this added: “And be specific.” I realized I’m not very specific in my prayers and just like talking to our spouse, children or girlfriends, he longs for specificity. Are you hungry? What do you want to eat? I don’t know isn’t really what he (or we) want to hear. My life hasn’t been the same since that walk. You’re in a good place Ashley. Don’t let the scatteredness of this season dictate the worth of your thoughts. They are valuable. Each and every one of them. Hugs.
Thank you, dear friend, for your loving and life-giving words. Truly, they (and you) mean so much to me. I’ve been floundering a bit in my whole “calling” thing. I also appreciate your encouragement to be more specific with God in answer to the “What do you want me to do for you?” question. I’ve really been trying to work on this and so see the value of pouring out myself and my life this way before God.
Amazingly, when your comment came in, I was just reading your last two blog posts and praying for you in this time of transition. Our connection is such a sweet way to start my day. xoxo
Oh, dear me, Ashley. You’ve reached into my aching insides and stirred them and held them and made them/me feel less alone this morning.
To say that your words resonate is a ridiculous understatement. You speak my heart, my fears – you ask my questions and express my deep longing. This is your gift, my friend. And no matter how many times you stumble and doubt and get caught in the swirl of the everyday, you keep coming back to that hand that doesn’t move. For that, and for so, so many other reasons, I love you
This line:
“This morning, I realize my desire for purpose, confidence, wholeness and peace, and I see as clearly as the hand in front of my face the ways I can never grasp them when I’m climbing and clawing.”
…crawled inside me and speaks to right where I am, have been, and seem to keep finding myself.
I see us now, reaching for that hand that doesn’t move. It’s such comfort to see your here with me, precious Ashley. I’m so very grateful for your seeking heart. It (you) is beauty to me.
Julia, your words here brought me to a weepy puddle. Knowing we are walking this journey together (though separated by miles) brings me such a sweet peace. Thank you for letting me know of the resonance. As you’re well aware, it can be both scary and a whole other aspect of trust to share — not knowing if anyone will relate as you write from the middle of longing, questions and fears. Thank you, love, for letting me know where you are. That is a gift. Saying a prayer for your seeking heart. Love you, friend.
Perfect
Sent from my iPhone
Claudia
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Thank you, Auntie. I love you so.
I love you, and your story, and how I always find myself within your heart’s journey. Thank you, my friend.
What a gift these words of yours. Thank you, dear one. I love you.
I’m so there with you – learning to be wildly obedient in what God is calling me to but also really scared of the calling. I’m so bold in my writing and with a small group, I feel free to share but God has given me visions of speaking in front of large groups and oh gosh, I often hope there are just that: visions.
Glad to link up via FMF!
Yes, I really do get that. It’s a joy and an honor and a whole heap of a lot. Praying that you find God’s presence right in the middle of what he’s calling you into. We can know — even if we don’t understand all the moving parts — that close to him is the place to be. Bless you on your unfolding journey.
Oh, how that question shows the compassionate heart of Jesus. I still let Him ask me every single day.
Sitting with you, dear friend.
Thank you, dear one. You’re so right about what that question reveals about Jesus’ own heart. Thank you for that picture. An honor to walk (and sit) with you.
Oh girlie… you know I am standing with you… shaky knees and all! I love you so!
Thank you so much, dear Karrilee. It was a joy to hear about your experience in this realm. You inspired me. Love you!
I’m sitting here, too, with you, sweet friend. I have loved watching where your seeking heart has reached this year and where you have sat back and are learning to just be. I see you, reaching for that “hand that doesn’t move,” and finding your place in him. Thank you for pouring your honest ponderings onto a page for us to share in this place with you. To all reach for that hand together. I know I needed to hear these words lately. I love you.
Thank you for recognizing where I’ve been and am heading this year, dear friend. So helpful to see the words you’ve put to this. It’s a bit of a mystery from where I sit, but as we’ve talked about, that’s also a good place to be, isn’t it? Right in the mystery of God — held and loved and known, even as we don’t know. I love you.
I can really relate to this…”What is a writer when the words don’t come? Who is a speaker that is terrified to speak?” You have no idea how much. Truly your words resonate… IT isn’t in the fear OR the faith that we know what we’re doing. IT is in Him! Thanks for the encouragement and insight.
Thank you, Lisa. I just read your recent words and saw our kindred experiences there. Thank you for putting words to what I cannot. I love how we can do that for one another. Many blessings to you on your journey.
oh sweet friend, its so good to read your words again. Its been a long time since I sat here on the ‘bench’ at your blog and just soaked in a little conversation with you. oh friend…that he is always reaching, that resonates. So often its more than i remember that i need to reach back too…but i should never fear him not being there..that will NEVER happen. love you so. Love your sharing your heart.
Yes, to reaching back, dear Janel! It’s true for me, too — how often I fear he will not be there. It’s not based on my experience of him, but on my deepest fears and hurts. Thank you for giving words to that. I’ve missed you too and am sending much love to you, my friend.
I love this line Ashley…so true, it is so true, we do want everything and that is what seems appropriate! xoxo
“Allowing myself to answer that I am reaching, I am needy, and so what I want from Jesus is, honestly, everything. “
Thank you for loving my needy, seeking self and helping me to see that is exactly where I need to be. I love you so much.
Ashley, can I just say I am so glad I randomly found you on Twitter today. I can relate to so much of what you say here, and feel that God created me to do these things as well. But there is so much doubt. And longing. And fear. Keep writing, girl. You have a gift and as I person who reads many blogs, I truly do mean that. Thanks for much for sharing and I look forward to reading more of your posts!
Abby, immensely grateful to have connected! A joy to read your blog. You have such a warm, engaging way of encouraging and gently leading people to grace and truth. So happy to be following your words and your journey. Press on, sister!
Simply stated . . . Simply beautiful