Do you ever look around and think to yourself that life looks nothing like you thought it would? In the last few months, I've done this over and over again.
I never thought that at 30 I would be basically unemployed, living in my parents' house, single, and without much of a clue as to what my life was going to look like in the near (and far) future. I never considered that I would be so tenuously supported, without a way to securely provide for myself in so many ways.
My life feels so temporary right now -- temporarily living back at home, temporarily borrowing their spare car (because mine decided its life was over when I made it leave New Orleans), temporarily substitute teaching (which is, in and of itself, a very insecure and temporary job). I am waiting on so many things, but mostly, I'm waiting on a more permanent place in life. And a huge part of that is a job that provides the means to support myself, live on my own, buy a car (among other things, like a computer since mine is currently taped together), have health insurance, love on other people, etc.
This waiting on a more permanent being comes from a desire that has grown over the last few years. I long for a place to be, to live, to flourish. A place I know God has called me to, where there is community, love, grace, hospitality. A place where there are roots, and a place whose roots nurture wings. A place that encourages all those things in the people around me as well. I don't think this is unusual, because I've heard the same types of things from many people around my age, especially the longing for community.
But in the past couple of weeks, I've really struggled with where I am. I look at my current situation and don't see much changing. I see potential and opportunities for the future, yes, but lately it has been hard to envision any of those dreams or opportunities actually happening. Often, I look into the future and see nothing. Sometimes it's hard to get excited about the future when you feel trapped in your present, and feel like there isn't much you can do to make it change. On the worst days, I feel like life is passing me by, like everyone is waving at me as they move forward, and all I'll ever be or do is what I'm doing now -- living a temporary, insecure life. On these days, I feel like parts of me are dying.
My prayer through this time has been to be able to focus on the things of the Spirit, rather than those of the flesh. The things of the Spirit focus on the ways God has blessed me: I have a place to live. I do have a job, even if it doesn't pay a whole lot. I have a car to drive. I have family near me who are supportive and loving, and friends I know I can count on across hundreds of miles. I am healthy and I have food to eat. I am His -- which is by far the most important thing to know and have confidence in on this list.
But still, there are times when my flesh puts up a good fight, and I get discouraged or am tempted to despair. A couple of days ago, I was praying over this (again), asking God how on earth I was going to be able to do this very much longer. I wanted, needed something to help me. I needed a job to support me and enable me to provide for myself, that would allow me to live. Something so that I could stand on my own two feet again, instead of always feeling on top of everyone else's.
And then He impressed a whisper upon my heart: "But you need to stand on My feet, not your own." I really thought this is what I had been trying to do, but I saw that so much of what I was doing was out of my own strength and abilities. Just a couple days earlier, God led me to Psalm 46:10, which says, "Cease striving and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth." I did some fast research and saw that one dictionary translated it this way: "Leave off (your own attempts) and know..." All my worry, my planning, thinking -- it was all my striving, out of my strength. I was not leaving it to God. I wanted so badly to provide for myself, to be where I thought I should be (and in some ways, where I thought the rest of the world thought I should be), that I wasn't completely trusting in God. I was trying to stand on my own, rather than standing on Him.
Have you ever seen a little kid stand on a trusted adult's feet to dance? They aren't worried about where they will go or what steps they need to take, because they're relying on the adult. They laugh, play, and fully embrace the moment because they trust their feet -- their entire self -- are safe and secure on the feet of the adult. They stand in freedom to live because they have planted themselves firmly on someone else's feet. As I've thought about standing on God's feet rather than my own, this is the picture I see. As His daughter, I'm free to take His hands, stand on His feet, and let Him lead the dance. He leads, He chooses the steps, and I am free to laugh and experience the joy and abundance He planned for me in life.
Standing on His feet.
Only when I do stand on His feet will I truly live. Only on His feet will I find provision, security, confidence. Only on His feet can my striving cease so I can know that He is God, can I live out of His strength.
Only on His feet does life flourish and abound.
Only on His feet will I have roots and wings.
Only on His feet.
It's really difficult to live life like this sometimes, to stop trying to do everything yourself and to rest in Him, to stand on His feet and know He is God. I don't really know exactly what it looks like, and it's likely that it looks different for each of us. I also know it won't always be easy. But Jesus never promised us easy. He did promise us life, grace, freedom, joy -- if we stand in and on Him. So I'm learning, seeking after our Savior, and pursuing a life with Him, a life spent living letting Him lead the dance, because I'm standing on His feet.
And I'm inviting you to do the same. As His treasured child, He says the same thing to you that He did to me: stand on My feet, rest in Me, let Me lead the dance.
Come with me?
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