Memos from the Middle

Jesus, Wake Up!

It’s storming, Friend. This strange thing happens under my umbrella as the deluge of rain soaks my feet and ankles and legs before the rest of me realizes I am getting wet. I am heavy and sloshing through but going absolutely nowhere because the wind has picked up and hurled down trees to block my paths and crush how I thought I was going to get from here to there. I am confused and scared as I look at the calendar and question, “How long?”

I’m trying to be a “good girl,” doing the right things, but every step I take seems to open me up to a not-so-elusive firing squad. I’m exposed, and like middle school dodge ball, I’m far too good at being hit!

The Olivia Pope in me wants to plan and strategize and fix, but I’m a real human today with real problems today and real fears today, and to be honest, this time, I know I can’t “fix” anything. This time, I have to let things play out. This time, I have to wake up Jesus!

Sometimes preachers will “draw fresh water from a familiar well” when they preach a sermon about a text we all know. Well, I ain’t no preacher, but I need to go back to Mark 4 to encourage myself. I don’t know about you, Friend, but today, I just need to tell Jesus how scared I am. I need to tell Him how I feel overwhelmed. I need to tell Him, “Turn that pillow loose and come holla at yo’ girl!”

I know the assurance of making it to the other side. I know that Jesus Himself told me to go. I also know that correction is likely imminent. While I am worried, instead of frittering away in my own head, I have to rouse Jesus:

• Lord, Your word says, “Draw near to God and He will draw near to you” (James 4: 8a, NKJV). I know I am not seeing all I need to see about these situations, but I see You. So I’m coming. That’s my hand on Your shoulder. That’s me shaking You.
• Lord, Your word says, “For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind” (2 Timothy 1: 7). My spiritual man knows that You are greater than any circumstance, yet my flesh is weak. Even still, I draw to You, knowing that Your power, love, and wisdom are within reach. I stretch out my hand, Lord, to touch even the hem of Your garment because I know that faith in You draws power from heaven.
• Lord, You don’t have to question “Who touched me?” (Luke 8: 45, NKJV). I confess. It was me! I press my way through the throng. I need even the smallest touch of You. I just know that touching You will bring healing.
• Lord, Your word says, “…the veil of the temple was torn in two” (Luke 23: 45b) and that we now can “come boldly to the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in the time of need” (Hebrews 4: 16). Here I am, Lord, on my knees and at Your feet. What time is it, You ask? Well, it’s the time of need! I need You right now. I won’t go anywhere else. I can’t go anywhere else. I’m here with You in this boat with all this water, and I need You to get up to talk to this wind and to this rain and to this woman in me! What I need can only come from You.

When I lift my eyes and look, I see You, and my heart remembers that You are firmly in control. My heart releases anguish. My heart surrenders. My heart inclines to wait on You.

And I feel better, which is a welcome change, and while the waters still swell about me, I am at peace.