Thursday-The Lord met me at two a.m. in a garden of icons and candles.
Friday- The Lord met me lying on my face, surrendering all my desires and touching the cross.
Saturday- The Lord met me in a horse’s kiss.
Sunday- The Lord met me in joy: car dancing, tulips, ham, good friends, and worship.
Monday- Today I ate breakfast with a friend and found myself saying this line that I’ve said far too many times, “I wish I had a man, a job, a path, something.” It was one of those glorious mundane moments when you realize there has been a dramatic shift in the way you view the world. As I said it, I realized I didn’t really mean it anymore, not like I used to. Saying the phrase was like lifting a cigarette to my mouth out of pure habit, but then realizing I didn’t even like the taste, that I didn’t need it anymore.
Something happened to me this Lenten season, particularly this Easter weekend. I don’t even know how to articulate it. I suppose I got to taste the sweetness of what it is like when His story, however briefly, eclipses my own. When instead of clamoring for Him to meet me where I am at, I seek to meet Him where He has revealed Himself most fully, meditating on the cross, the tomb, the resurrection. And of course when I do that, I think I’m more open for Him to meet me where I am at, whether that is at the equestrian center or driving in my car.
In some ways I’ve felt like the disciples on the road to Emmaus, lamenting their loss, feeling confused about what comes next, maybe even complaining about how God has left them to figure it out on their own. Jesus comes and they don’t recognize Him at first, but then He breaks bread and they realize Christ has been with them the whole time. I’m sure if they knew who was on the path with them, the where or what of the path would become much less important. I guess I am starting to believe that Jesus is walking with me, that He died on the cross because He loves me, that He rose from the dead. I know that sounds basic but somehow I have not spent a whole lot of time in my Christian walk thinking about those truths as much as “what should I do to please God today; what should I do or say?” Or worse, what should others around me be doing or saying?
I am so grateful for everyone who has ever put up with one of my many “what am I doing with my life” conversations, including this one. It’s not that I’m above that question anymore; it’s just not laced with the same worry poison. It's not like there was a dramatic moment of deliverance today as much as a realization that came simple and quiet, like a shy cat or a gentle horse.
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