The Impossible God

My mind is racing.

 

It has been since I woke up at 6:35.

 

I can't seem to pin down a coherent thought pattern. My mind a jumble of emotion, patterns, questions, answers, truth, and lies.

 

I guess that's part of being female.

 

My conversation with Rachel over tea yesterday morning, though, helped nail down some of these into solid, immobile thoughts and ideas against the gale-force winds in my brain. I guess that's where I'll start.

 

Contentment. This is something I've been unintentionally working on this year. By unintentionally I mean that I was definitely not planning on working on this particular attribute, but God knew I needed work in this area and is helping me out. I tend to a be a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kinda person. I would much prefer to jump into a situation head first and deal with the injuries later. I thrive on change and spontaneity. My idea of thinking through a situation use to involve three questions:

 

1. Will it hurt


2. What will it cost


3. When do we start

 

You may think I'm joking, but that's literally about how far my brain would look before deciding to make the jump.

 

Because my tendency has been to jump first and think later, this year has been an incredible test for me. The decisions Kevin and I are having to make are forcing me to slow WAY down and look at every option carefully. I'm forced to hold each opportunity, turn them over and over in my hands, feel the weight of the choices we'll make, test the smooth exteriors for flaws, and pass them on to others who will do the same. I have had to do this hundreds of times.

 

This process of transforming my whirlwind mind into still silence has been one of the hardest things I've ever done mentally.


Jumping without looking is my way to keep fear at bay. 

 

This test has taken me from the security of chaos to unnerving and terrifying silence.

 

The process of learning to look first has opened the gates of fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear of the what-ifs. Fear of my life-long struggle with physical health. Fear of financial ruin. Most of all, fear of being alone.

 

Fear has brought me to the brink physical and mental breakdowns. I've worked through crippling anxiety and unaccounted-for insecurity. At one of the lowers points I ended up on the bathroom floor, retching and gasping for air, fading in and out of consciousness as I fought through what I later found out was a panic attack. Those are intense and I never want one again.  I began to realize that my attempts to change my own mind were completely and utterly impossible.

 

 

im·pos·si·ble

 [im-pos-uh-buhl] 

adjective

1.not possible; unable to be, exist, happen, etc.

2.unable to be done, performed, effected, etc.: an impossible assignment.

3.incapable of being true, as a rumor.

4.not to be done, endured, etc., with any degree of reason or propriety: an impossible situation.

5.utterly impracticable: an impossible plan.

 

I started to despair. My mind couldn't be changed. My ways were set.

 

Very, very, very gradually the blindfold covering my eyes has been removed. Over the past 365 days things have slowly and deliberately slid into focus. Over the past week I've come to realize one vital truth:

 

Jesus is the the Impossible God. 


see what i did there, doctor who fans? we all know how far that could go...through time and space...to save us...every day....yea. I just blew your mind.

 

I literally can not change my mind on my own. I can only lay on the floor and gasp for air. Jesus is the only being who has ever had the power to change my heart. And He can change it as easily as drawing a breath.

 

Oh the freedom from release! 


I no longer have to strain and push with everything in me. I no longer have to carry this spine-crushing weight of fear on my back.

 

Figuring life out hasn't become any easier. There are still massive decisions to be made and even more massive questions that won't be answered potentially for years.

 

But I'm not afraid anymore.

 

Yes, the plans seem impossible. Yes, we've heard it from many people. Yes, I feel like I'm standing at the bottom of a crater looking at the moon trying to figure out how to climb there. But now I have peace. Now I can laugh in the face of fear. Because

 

Jesus is the Impossible God.