My stepmom is currently in the hospital for emergency gallbladder surgery. I just spoke with her and she is heavily medicated, waiting for the hospital to have an opening to take her in for surgery. She has never been good with pain and I’m sure she is scared right now, so I’m just asking that you take a minute to pray for her.

I’m reading an autobiography by Joanie Yoder called “Finding The God-Dependent Life.” Joanie was my great aunt. She was a missionary in England so I didn’t see her very often, but the few times I did get the privilege to spend time with her, we had wonderful, memorable conversations. She passed away in 2004 and she is certainly missed. She was loved dearly by many, including me. The story of her life is quite amazing. She shares in her book how she struggled with extreme anxiety and agoraphobia and how she overcame it through prayer and dependence on God. In the particular section I read today she tells of how she started a Bible study for the women in her neighborhood. At the first meeting she was terrified to speak to the women, much less pray with them, but she was determined to try. She had that mustard seed of faith that God would give her the strength. She said in order to step out in faith she had to decide that she was willing to fail in her efforts for the Lord.

As I was reading that chapter in her life I immediately thought of my Financial Peace class at church. Leading this class has been a total expansion of my comfort zone, but there is one area I still really hold back in. At the end of each night I sense a nudging from the Holy Spirit that I need to pray with my small group, and at the end of each night I ignore that nudging because I’m afraid. I am deciding today to take my Aunt Joanie’s attitude with me to class tomorrow. I need to be willing to sound like a complete and utter bumbling idiot in an effort to pray with my group, because that’s where I know God is trying to lead me. Group prayer has always been a challenge for me but I must not let fear keep me from it anymore.

I always feel better after talking to him. How do I forget him so easily? I’ve been asking that question for years and have yet to find the answer. The best I can come up with is that I’m human. Of course he knows that I’m human and he has plenty of grace to make up for it. I just hate that I keep taking advantage of that. But I guess his grace covers that too.

You know when you meet up with an old friend you haven’t seen in awhile, and you chat like no time has passed, grinning from ear to ear the entire time? That’s what it’s like with God, only 38,000 times better. It’s coming home again, only you didn’t know you were homesick. You were so used to your present state you didn’t realize it. For example, I didn’t know I had been sleeping poorly until I got pregnant and realized what good sleep felt like. You could also use the boiling frog parable. It’s all the same concept. When we let our guards down or stop paying attention, we reach a dangerous state of complacency.

I can’t say my complacency has really reached a point of danger, but I have been sensing a nagging, a tug at my heart as if there is something missing. Or someone, rather. I have this amazing family, amazing friends, and yet there is still this space that is left open, reserved only for my creator.

Maybe subconsciously I want to become distant from God, so that when I come back to him I appreciate him that much more. Maybe secretly I like that euphoric rush that comes with reconnecting, and as a result have adopted a martyr mentality. I say every time that I don’t want to go back to that lonely place but somehow I always do. Whatever the reason, I am just thankful that God continues to woo me back to him.

“Slow down. Hold still.
It’s not as if it’s a matter of will.
Someone’s circling. Someone’s moving
a little lower than the angels.
This voice calling me to you:
it’s just barely coming through.
Still, I clearly hear my name.
I’ve been fingering the flame
like tomorrow’s martyr.
It gets harder to believe.

All I need is everything.
Inside, outside, feel new skin.
All I need is everything.
Feel the slip and the grip of grace again.”

~”All I Need Is Everything” by Over the Rhine