I’ve been attempting to write “something” every week so I’m rushing to get a few thoughts down before this weekend completely slips away. It’s been a busy week and a lot has happened. There is no way I can do justice to all that God has been doing and showing me recently in the few brief moments I have to sit down at my computer. But I’ll do what I can.
When you get right down to it, that’s all he ever asks any of us to do – what we can. And he’s never confused about what that does and doesn’t mean. He knows exactly what I can and can’t do. He knows where I have understanding, and where I’m still clueless. He knows where I’m gifted and called, and where things just don’t fit. He knows what I’m prepared for, and where there is still work to be done. Best of all, none of this impedes his work in and through my life one little bit. As long as I’m still willing to do what I can. And right now, what I can do is simply take a walk with him.
That’s what this season is all about for me–taking a walk. It’s what I can do. But ”doing what I can” has meant different things in different seasons. There have been seasons (loooong seasons) of plowing hard ground. There have been seasons of standing (”having done all, stand”). There have been seasons of taking great risks and seasons to reflect and rest. But this season isn’t about any of those things. All I hear him asking me to do right now is put one foot in front of the other and match his steps. He just wants me to take a walk with him.
Sounds simple. And I suppose it actually is quite simple, but it’s not been particularly easy. It’s not the walking part that’s difficult, it’s where the walk is leading. I’m walking into things that I feel like I’ve tried and failed at a thousand times, but he says, “Walk there with me one more time.” I’m walking into gifts and callings that have been up on the shelf so long I wasn’t sure they were ever real in the first place. I’m walking back into dreams and desires that would really be so much easier to just give up on. I’m walking out of a place of hiddenness and into the open. Really, I’m walking into destiny.
I thought it would feel different. Maybe it will at some point. Right now, all I can do is grip his hand real tight and just keep walking. It’s been a long road getting to this point and honestly I’m not sure I can do more than take one little baby step at a time. With each new step, I keep expecting to run into the same roadblocks that have hindered me in previous seasons but–ittle by little, bit by bit–he just keeps rolling out the red carpet.
I’m more accustomed to brick walls than red carpets, so my steps are still a bit tentative. I’m in absolutely no hurry and I think he’s just fine with that. He’s not asking me to run. He’s not asking me to jump off a cliff or go out on a limb. Been there, done that. And if that was what he was asking me to do, I imagine the grace would be there and I would be able to do it again. But he’s not asking me to do any of those things and I’m glad. He’s just asking me to keep putting one foot in front of the other … and take a walk with him.
And maybe, just maybe, we’re actually going somewhere this time.
Cindy Powell 