Montana is amazing.
Every morning I wake up, look outside, and breathe a "hellooo, montana.." to the snow-capped mountains outside my window. The days are filled with things like hiking, swimming in the hot springs, horseback riding, exploring old western towns...
..and God. God is inescapable here. There's a lot of time, and a lot of space, and a lot of beauty, and I've found that at least two hours every day of just walking to the top of a hill- a large one, not a Tennessee hill- and staring out at the mountains and plains (there are both) to think and be and pray leads unavoidably, and welcomingly, to being refreshed and filled up by the Lord.
That was a heck of a sentence.
Here's the thing. Start to spend much one-on-one time with God, and He starts wanting to like, do things. Make changes. Wake things up. A lot of it is just making you (me) real.. it's not intense or dramatic; He's just present and it's there. And not altogether comfortable.
That time is, honestly, water to my soul- I read the Psalmist's comparing of his longing for God to a thirst and I understand it. But in addition to the good (sometimes ridiculously good) reminders and maybe even revelations that brings, it is also bringing up questions and dealings and deep things in my heart that I am just not sure what to do with. Questions about whether I am really being what He has put into me to be, whether I gave up parts of me that were good because I was afraid they made me too difficult or complex for people to handle (hi, yes, i do know that i'm arrogant), whether unshakable happiness can actually coexist with intense pain and if so, what that looks like in my own heart (thank you, Jonathan Edwards with your dual lenses)..
And I love intimacy with God.. love it and, as I actually continue regularly in it (it's funny how fast He acts- "regular" can mean all of three days), crave it.. but it's not comfortable. What if what He wants is more than I can handle?
I'm lying. What I'm really nervous about is if what He wants is more than others can handle.
walk with me quiet
walk with me slow
with watered-down coffee and words of gold
'cause i can feel the edges of these things
when i hear you speak to me
walk with me empty
walk with me strong
with the hush of our voices, the day seems so long
it is like a balm, it is like joy
it unravels all i thought i knew
so will you lead me beside the still waters?
where the oil it runs over; my cup overflows
you restore my soul
tell me the story
where old is made new-
the promise of ages, and all things that are true
When the shadows fall and the wrecking ball
swings and tears me through the heart
will you lead me beside the still waters?
where the oil it runs over, my cup overflows
you restore my soul.
out on the green plains i am but a ghost, bound up with all that i call "mine"--but still the Light grows.
..and God. God is inescapable here. There's a lot of time, and a lot of space, and a lot of beauty, and I've found that at least two hours every day of just walking to the top of a hill- a large one, not a Tennessee hill- and staring out at the mountains and plains (there are both) to think and be and pray leads unavoidably, and welcomingly, to being refreshed and filled up by the Lord.
That was a heck of a sentence.
Here's the thing. Start to spend much one-on-one time with God, and He starts wanting to like, do things. Make changes. Wake things up. A lot of it is just making you (me) real.. it's not intense or dramatic; He's just present and it's there. And not altogether comfortable.
That time is, honestly, water to my soul- I read the Psalmist's comparing of his longing for God to a thirst and I understand it. But in addition to the good (sometimes ridiculously good) reminders and maybe even revelations that brings, it is also bringing up questions and dealings and deep things in my heart that I am just not sure what to do with. Questions about whether I am really being what He has put into me to be, whether I gave up parts of me that were good because I was afraid they made me too difficult or complex for people to handle (hi, yes, i do know that i'm arrogant), whether unshakable happiness can actually coexist with intense pain and if so, what that looks like in my own heart (thank you, Jonathan Edwards with your dual lenses)..
And I love intimacy with God.. love it and, as I actually continue regularly in it (it's funny how fast He acts- "regular" can mean all of three days), crave it.. but it's not comfortable. What if what He wants is more than I can handle?
I'm lying. What I'm really nervous about is if what He wants is more than others can handle.
walk with me quiet
walk with me slow
with watered-down coffee and words of gold
'cause i can feel the edges of these things
when i hear you speak to me
walk with me empty
walk with me strong
with the hush of our voices, the day seems so long
it is like a balm, it is like joy
it unravels all i thought i knew
so will you lead me beside the still waters?
where the oil it runs over; my cup overflows
you restore my soul
tell me the story
where old is made new-
the promise of ages, and all things that are true
When the shadows fall and the wrecking ball
swings and tears me through the heart
will you lead me beside the still waters?
where the oil it runs over, my cup overflows
you restore my soul.
out on the green plains i am but a ghost, bound up with all that i call "mine"--but still the Light grows.