Lay it All Down

In these days of wild uncertainty, many of us seem to find ourselves riding an emotional rollercoaster unlike ever before.

I wish I could say I was right there with you, but it seems my entire life has been an emotional rollercoaster, so this intense intermingling of grief and joy and dread and hope is nothing new to me.

For a week I might be perfectly happy--I’ve found my introvert self hasn’t noticed much different in staying at home for days, weeks...months. I’m surrounded, still, by members of my family, and, still, need time by myself. I wouldn’t even say that these weeks of social distancing have refreshed my person-weary soul because, in fact, it seems I’ve been around people more than ever day in and out.

Yet, there comes a day--inevitably--of immense, soul-crushing grief. I wake up after sleeping through four alarms (yet again) and I don’t want to push myself out of bed, brush my teeth, make breakfast, drink coffee, and read my Bible--all of them: wonderful commodities and luxuries I’ve enjoyed and cultivated as part of my typical morning routine. Yet, I wake up on these days with this foreboding anxiety pitting in my stomach, yes, already, at 9am in the morning. I stretch beneath my fuzzy blanket, trying to cool the sweat of the night from my skin--trying to formulate some sort of prayer thanking God for yet another glorious morning, but the heart palpitations and an absurd number of racing thoughts that aren’t thanking God for yet another day tell the story of anything but new-day glory. No--the palpitations and thoughts speak of deep glacier fear, the war-trenches of grief, and the dull impatience of when-will-this-be-over. 

I jump onto the trampolines of insecurity and doubt, pulled into the pit of delusion and conspiracy so many have come to lean on. Is this the end of the world? Are we being judged for our wickedness upon the earth? Will I see my family again? Will one government soon rule the world? Are vaccines really, actually, evil? Who is telling the truth? Is this the beginning of the end of the world? 

What about me, God? What about the dreams I’ve crafted over my 22 years of being? What about my desire to gallivant in distant lands, taking in the beauty You’ve crafted on this earth? What about my desire to climb those mountains or stand under that basilica or feast my eyes upon waters unseen? What about my need to taste new spices and hear foreign languages and sink my toes into the soil of other nations? What about the longing in my heart to hold the hand of a faithful man who loves You? And to raise children with him? And to teach those children about you? What about all of the words and worlds and stories that are pent up within, waiting for the day I will finally pen them? What about me, God? There’s so much I want to do in this world--please don’t let it end yet.

But it isn’t about me. It’s not about Rachel Lester! Who am I to question God in these ways? Can He take it? Yes. Does He care? Yes. Does it make it any more about me? No. Absolutely not. I’m not even promised tomorrow. Or, even, later today. How can I be so upset about years to come? 

But I pray and cry and question anyway. 

And then there are the days--where I pray and cry and question out of sheer longing for the courts of my Lord Jesus. Maranatha, I cry and I wipe my face of thirsty tears. To be on this earth is to be yet still separated from the fullness of Who You Are. Oh! To be in the House of the Lord! To be a gatekeeper in His Courts! It would be better, so much better to be with my Lord than anywhere else! Come, Lord Jesus, come! This world--this broken, sinful, empty world! We need you, Lord! Come, Lord Jesus, come! Such longing pulls at my heart and it beats beyond its bounds, pounding for the Kingdom, dwelling in the loving gaze of my Father, drinking of and splashing in His Living Water. The praises of my lips lift my gaze to the One who Loves. What Love He bestows! What Boundless, Eternal, Comforting, Sweet Love! Lord, only this earth separates us from the fullness of You. Restore us, renew us, come Lord Jesus!

And yet, still, again, I pray and cry and question. 

Lord...my body is weak with mourning, my eyes are darkened with sorrow. People kill and die and destroy and lie. People are torn from their families and their homes. A virus is ravaging the people of this earth--people You’ve made and Love so Deeply! The destroyer is wreaking havoc on this earth--when will it end? Children and women and men, unsafe. Racial divisions shoving faces into the dirt. Mental illness claiming more and more lives. Wars rage on all around us, whether seen or not, they rage! God, I can’t even lift my fingers, how do we lift our gaze to You? Such sorrow...weighs my bones down, reminding me that from dust we were made and to dust we return. But, sorrow, such horrible sorrow. 

Yes, there is a rollercoaster, a see-saw, a swingset. There are mountains and valleys to trek across, bloodied, broken, not always triumphant. Oceans to tread, sinking sand to escape, and, at last--a One Day Hope to cling to. 

This zigzag of emotions is nothing startling to our Maker. The One Who formed us in our mother’s womb, Who kneaded us with such simultaneous strength and gentleness in the depths of the earth, Who wrote out each and every day of our existence upon this soil which cries out and groans with us in desire and longing for the Return of the King and future Restoration of all things. 

The Beauty of our Savior seems so often so unattainable to our weary souls, but His Beauty gives us space to rest upon His Shores, to breathe in His expanse of Peace, and the space to scream and shout and shake our fists and to weep and tremble and burst. 

Because He is our Father.

Because He is our Father we can bring Him our questions and doubts and fears and desires and triumphs and grief and and and and and--the list goes on for all of history and eternity. We can bring Him everything we are, whether in this moment or the next, whether in today or tomorrow, because He asks that we come to Him. Asking us to come to Him shows that He is not fearful of our shifting, but that He embraces all that we are and asks us to lay it all--our very selves--at His feet because He LOVES us. 

He Loves us so deeply, so intensely, so eternally that He sent His Son as a sacrifice for our sins, for our brokenness, for our emptiness. He sent His Son to die a bloody death, a wrongful death, a death that took our sins and brokenness and emptiness and nailed them all to the Cross! To death with our death! 

And now, a new cry! We go forth into forgiveness and life and hope! 

And, Ultimately, we go forth into Love. 

Today, tomorrow, two weeks from now, three months, a year--whatever day you find yourself in, I encourage you to lay it all--your very self--at the feet of Merciful Jesus because He LOVES you.