Analysis Paralysis

The difference between despair and hope is not what I expected. The tension created by consciously choosing to trust God hour by hour, doesn’t lull me into tranquility. It stimulates me to act. I see so many possibilities on the nearby landscape to start the climb like a giant spilled his boulder collection in the grass. There is no trail to be seen. I didn’t expect this. I don’t know anyone who has done this. The expectant energy and the mental darting from start to start to start creates a blur in my mind that I disdain. Fear of never starting bubbles up. I’m glad it does. I hand it to God who already has my fears of rejection, failure, offending my friends or family. Fear is going to accompany me so must God. But not as support staff. He’s not a mule. He’s the Sherpa. If all He did was save me that would be enough. But He wants to show me the way.

When I ask Him, the first priority for decision-making is easy: “To live is Christ, and to die is gain” Philippians 1:21 NIV. The One who saved me from the namelessness, childlessness, depression, from cancer, from my sin. Which step will give Him glory? As soon as I look at His face to ask, I realize I didn’t ask Him whether this mountain is for me. What if my Father asks me to give these tiny babies away? That fear is an unavoidable possibility if I really have no gods before Him. My breaths become shallow. No.

I’m afraid of You. Not affection-driven fear of Your displeasure, but fear that You won’t give me what I long for, what burns in me like fire, a conviction that compels me almost beyond my own choice. But I can’t mistrust your plan. You have brought me through every trial, given me every blessing, every breath, every cell of my being. I know you are good. ”Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him” Job 13:15.  I love You so much it hurts. It runs deeper than my passion for this dream. It was just quieter in this moment. Truth slices that pride-borne fear out of my hand. Your ways are not my ways. I see my error:  I act as if these embryo babies were ours, forged with courage and sacrifice. I was wrong. I was wrong. They are His as I am His. Not my own. “Do you love me more than these?” John 21:15. Yes, Lord. “Seek first the kingdom of God, and all these things shall be added to you” Mathew 6:33. He is not the Sherpa. He made the mountain. He knows the end of the story. Maker.

I bring my coffee for courage. “I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me” Galatians 2:20. You made me and You love me. Your devotion is humbling. Your authority is staggering. “Then He said to them all, “If anyone desires to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow Me” Luke 9:23. There is a glimpse of my next step, but this is all the learning I can handle for now.

“In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength” Isaiah 30:15. So I worship. You deserve it more than I will ever understand.