The coming-together

I sat around our table tonight with nine other friends, warm lighting, a remarkable Vietnamese raw cabbage salad, veggie stir fry and unforced conversation, witnessing a coming-together of strands and streams that delights me and would be more weird if it wasn’t so much of my reality these days. History, relationship and dreams are gracefully and clearly colliding, in a way that reminds me of a fish tail, which is like the braided pony tail a little girl has, but with so many more cords than three all mingled together.

It’s easy. With all these manner of intersections, more is accomplished by just naturally being me than could ever be manufactured by slick strategy or clever planning. Meet that fatherly and motherly couple; take note of the resonance of values and language and file away joy at meeting them again down the road, should the Father deem it good. Have that dream one December night; write it down, share it with the appropriate people, and respond to God’s seeming invitation by saying, “Yes.” Receive that email invitation; see if the dates line up and when they do, respond with an assured, “Yes.” Gather the involved parties for dinner, cook up the food, and watch the magic happen while we sit back in our seats.

Alongside these clearly divine alignments, I am still so tempted to over-arrange, micro-manage and plan for all contingencies. I love to use my strong right arm rather than leaning into His. I can run around needlessly, my deep breaths stolen from me. I long and call for others to walk in rest and to work with effortless strength, and I am only wading knee-deep in these waters myself.

I’ll keep at it, striving to rest and resting in work.  It’s for myself. It’s for generations to come. It’s for nations of the earth. Teach me, Lord. Don’t let go Your grip. Do convince me that You’re the strongest, wisest One with the best thoughts and ways. I can only imagine what will become of the days and weeks and months and years unfurling before me.

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