Urban Nomad

It starts small.

That thought planted at the back of a mind;
Slowly, it morphs into a familiar sentence.
Lingering at the back of our thoughts,
Simply a whisper in the wind.

Then like some sort of magical creature who we've been warned not to feed,
something in us wants to defy that ruling.
That phrase, that short sentence seems more significant,
a warning that we need to heed.

Growing with the agression of a cancerous disease, it infects with a vigorous fury.

Our prayers held down by the weight of honest truths losing gravity: 
Floating away with increasing abadon, our dreams sifting through newly formed cracks.

"What have I done?"; I shout into the onward force of this new, found fear.
It's significance overpowering, the worry forcing me into unwanted submission. 

One asks at the end of this doubt a flurry of questions,
at the edge of an infinitely deep ravine. 
Our brains twisted in an ugly bundle of emotion and fear, 
tied together with our reactionary instincts.

"Is this real?"

In that split-second, the decisions are weighed,
Cower at the edge, or take one step forward and see what happens.

I inch towards the edge, one more look before I decide.
Lifting my foot, held down by the increasing force of that vicious inner-voice.
I push through and prepare for the worst.

Nothing.

Nothing happens.

No devestating fall to my death.
No internal implosion scattering me to far reaches of the earth.
My eyes flutter open to see I'm back, back where I started before it all began.
The mirage of doubt faded, the truths have been there all along.

I sigh in relief, soon again I will have this fight;
As I have before, and will again.
In each new battle, the strength of my faith grows through only Him.

"Do Not Fear", I'm reminded again.
Next time I'll return faster, eager for that restoration of joy.

Next time, you'll be with me. 

There's something wonderful about waiting on God. 

There's something frustrating about waiting on God.

The contradicting truth to this, is that they are both true.

I haven't written anything on here because I've been frustrated. I'm frustrated about the way I've lived my life. I've made stupid decisions in my past, about college, about work, about who I thought I was. The uneasiness of the whole ordeal leaves me with stomach pains. Will it ever get easier for me? Am I just unsettled by nature, complacently discontent? There are times when my doubt about life is so strong, I just don't know how to handle it. I freak out. Just being around me can upset people. I can't ask people to have grace, because that's not something you ask of someone. It's a gift, a godly gift at that. This to me is the fight of the head.

Then there are times like a few months ago when I stood up in front of a rather large crowd of people and shared my story (more like bared my story) and it wasn't about me. Where for a brief second I forgot the worries of finding a job or where to live. The concerns of the world faded away, if only for a moment. This is the battle of the heart: none of the bad matters, nothing can take away that identity as a child of God. 

How do I bring these two together? How do I wait on God and know he is sovereign, and not feel like I'm writhing in the pain of my frustrations.

I'm back looking through Habakkuk: 

2 O Lord, how long shall I cry for help, and you will not hear?
Or cry to you “Violence!” and you will not save?

3 Why do you make me see iniquity, and why do you idly look at wrong?
Destruction and violence are before me; strife and contention arise.

4 So the law is paralyzed, and justice never goes forth.
For the wicked surround the righteous; so justice goes forth perverted.

Habakkuk 1:2-4 ESV

I understand his cry for justice. I know god responds, and god responds justly. I just don't know what to do with myself in between. I feel trapped, like a dog waiting on a fence for his owner to return. Thoughts flickering through my brain: 

"What if He never returns to me? What if I stay here, standing by, wasting the little life I had to live?".

The entrapment of patience is when thoughts like these occur, and a lot of people have them, we doubt the same thing we pour into with faith. We worry that in out patience, we'll miss out on what god has to offer, as if his whole intention was to set up an elaborate trap. These thoughts aren't "of God", they aren't even really healthy, but they still happen. The good news here is that we aren't alone in this. God calls us into community with one another because there are many others out there who feel the same, and we shouldn't be going through it alone. We are in this intricately weaved web of Glory for him, but from our perspective all we see are the holes. False prophets from the beginning we cast a vision on our lives much bleaker than the reality and grace of god allows. Things aren't always easy. Heck things are often hard and will probably get worse. This isn't a cynic speaking to you, but a man who trusts in the end it will work out.

So what can you do?

I don't have that answer, and no one can even give it to you. It's a different path that everyone needs be walked through with God. I know that this fear is an irrational one, it stems out of doubt and more importantly pride. In my story I needed to tear down the false Identity forced upon me, and allow God to build a new one. 

Without God, I'm helpless. 

Without God, I'm nothing more than a victim of all the abuse against me.

Victim defined me. The verbal and physical abuse of my school years. The stripping away of all personal identity so that I could no longer be mocked.The constant betrayal of the people coming into and out of my life. I hate that people always walk out of my life, but I hate more that I let them.

...but with him? I'm stronger than before. I'm no longer a slave to shame. I don't have to worry about what people think of me, or who I have to be around them. I don't have to worry that people were rejecting me because they found out all of the terrible.

God walks him through just a sliver of his greatness, of a story yet to unfold of grace and of justice beyond what we think right. In the end, Habakkuk responds:

17 Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines,
the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food,
the flock be cut off from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls,

18 yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation.

Habakkuk 3:17-18

"I will take joy in the God of my salvation." 

I'm free to live in that joy. The blessing of not feeling his justice against me. Yet I have so much more growing and learning to do, because "renewal is a process". In the story of Habakkuk, he cries to god, and god responds. In the end he doesn't have it figured out but he trusts that God does. There is this immensely powerful being in charge of our lives and I'm not about to get in the way of him doing what is a very good thing.

For years I cried to god, and ignored his response. So when every other attempt at change failed, I accused God of abandonment. These chanes were all about changing behavior, about fixing the outside of me. When I was operating out of brokenness, I couldn’t see who Jesus had made me to be. Jesus had to be at the focus of my heart. After that, everything else kind of falls into place. I’m feeling a familiar call into ministry, and though I’m nervous about my future, I’m not anxious.

I’m excited to see where god will take me and will wait and walk with all of the patience I can. When that's not enough, I will rest in the magnitude and greatness of my father God.

So this is something I'm working on in my free time. This is my grandpa, Elden Miller, he died almost a decade ago. This is a photo I promised to restore years ago but never finished.

I like to keep my promises, just don't tell my grandma just yet.

Every once in a while, we external processors have to speak out what's on our heads. It doesn't really matter what's on the receiving end. I'm not necessarily asking anyone for advice, I'm just putting my thoughts on the wall so I can see what's really going down.

This is my wall. This is a note to myself to not feel hopeless:

1. I told myself I could do this on my own, I can't. I'm not alone in that. I need god as much as anyone else.

2. It's not my job to be significant, my job is to be a follower of christ wherever that takes me.

3. It's not all about me or you or anyone else. It's all about Jesus. IT'S ALL ABOUT JESUS! I cannot stress that signficance.

4. I really want to follow God whever ever that takes me, whatever that means.

5. I squandered a gift. I had a lesson to learn still and that's okay, sometimes God needs to teach us things. I'll make it up to you, I promise.

6. God will surprise you every day, but sometimes these surprises are not what we've expected.

7. I really love my family. I may not say it everyday. I may have been out of contact for years. I wish I was a bigger part of your lives.

8. I still have a heart for the west, and I don't know if I can leave just yet.

These last two are really important, those close to me know it, and those who've gotten to know me recently probably won't be shocked by it.

9. I long to have a family, to be a father and a husband. We were not meant to live alone.

10. I will be going back to school in the next few years.

Sometimes I feel as though I've learned this beautiful secret, so amazing you want to shout it from the rooftops but you open your mouth and you've lost your voice. I've learned that regardless of what we do for the world, the love from God is never earned. God does not need a long list of acomplishments. In the words of Harold Crick, all Jesus is trying to tell us is that:  "...I'm doing this because I want you."

In no uncertain terms.

All of you. All of me.

Just as we are.

It only took thousands of dollars, over a dozen jobs, three careers, seven churches, a province and a handfull of states to teach me this.

 

Taken at 520 Floating Bridge, Governor Albert D. Rosellini Bridge - Evergreen Point

The Elephant Vanishes  - Haruki Murakami