Wings
It's been two weeks since my hash-out with God. Two weeks. The stark contrast in my life is absolutely incredible. Sure, I still struggle with things, but it's way more manageable now. My mom even said that I visibly look different; it's like I'm glowing. A recharge in faith has that effect on a person.
I know that if you've never experienced a Saul to Paul moment, it may be difficult to comprehend what I mean by all of this talk about being changed. So....I have an analogy! We serve a God who also wants to be our best friend. Now, this concept has always been a little difficult for me to grasp because God is not quantifiable the way humans are. But I keep on trying at this relationship, anyway. Everyone has had a miscommunication at some point with somebody you love, whether it's your best friend, spouse, coworker, child, or sibling. I know I have. It's such a crummy feeling. Like you want to say something but don't know what to say or how to say it. Maybe because your emotions are too out of control or because you're afraid of the response. What often ends up happening is a cloud forms between both parties that stifles the air, sucking the life out of you.
That's what I was doing with God.
I had a plan for my life, and was afraid of it not jiving with His. So, I just sort of quit communicating with Him. Sure, I would do the usual prayers before meals and participate during Mass, but I really let my personal conversations with God -the heart wrenching ones- fall off of my radar. Okay, I may have pushed them off of my radar. It was just like when you and your friend aren't seeing eye to eye, so you interact only when necessary all the while avoiding the actual issue that's causing the discomfort in your relationship. That never lasts long. Eventually, something (or someone) snaps. That was me. I snapped. I broke.
But that break saved me.
Like a cocoon or a shell, the tough outer layer must give way in order for life to truly begin. The past few months, I had wrapped myself in a cocoon, shielding myself from the Lord. Even though I was doing that, He was still working on forming me. He was still loving me. Gently. Patiently. He was waiting to be my best friend again.
Finally, my shell became suffocating. I couldn't stand it anymore. Life was so dark and stifling. So I started pushing. I asked for help. I pleaded for Him to show me His way. That was all He needed. Jesus took my hand and pulled me out. He saved me. And when that night gave way to the morning, I noticed something.
He had given me wings.
I know that if you've never experienced a Saul to Paul moment, it may be difficult to comprehend what I mean by all of this talk about being changed. So....I have an analogy! We serve a God who also wants to be our best friend. Now, this concept has always been a little difficult for me to grasp because God is not quantifiable the way humans are. But I keep on trying at this relationship, anyway. Everyone has had a miscommunication at some point with somebody you love, whether it's your best friend, spouse, coworker, child, or sibling. I know I have. It's such a crummy feeling. Like you want to say something but don't know what to say or how to say it. Maybe because your emotions are too out of control or because you're afraid of the response. What often ends up happening is a cloud forms between both parties that stifles the air, sucking the life out of you.
That's what I was doing with God.
I had a plan for my life, and was afraid of it not jiving with His. So, I just sort of quit communicating with Him. Sure, I would do the usual prayers before meals and participate during Mass, but I really let my personal conversations with God -the heart wrenching ones- fall off of my radar. Okay, I may have pushed them off of my radar. It was just like when you and your friend aren't seeing eye to eye, so you interact only when necessary all the while avoiding the actual issue that's causing the discomfort in your relationship. That never lasts long. Eventually, something (or someone) snaps. That was me. I snapped. I broke.
But that break saved me.
Like a cocoon or a shell, the tough outer layer must give way in order for life to truly begin. The past few months, I had wrapped myself in a cocoon, shielding myself from the Lord. Even though I was doing that, He was still working on forming me. He was still loving me. Gently. Patiently. He was waiting to be my best friend again.
Finally, my shell became suffocating. I couldn't stand it anymore. Life was so dark and stifling. So I started pushing. I asked for help. I pleaded for Him to show me His way. That was all He needed. Jesus took my hand and pulled me out. He saved me. And when that night gave way to the morning, I noticed something.
He had given me wings.
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