Stream of Consciousness

Note: I've been reading too many spiritual autobiographies lately, and too many of a friend's stream of consciousness blog entries. I rarely write in that style, preferring a more structured form, but on Thursday night, September 22, 2005, I lay in my bed, picked up my journal, and this is what came, from my own consciousness, and from God... (I wrote the majority of this Thursday night, with the exception of the postscript, which I added today.)


About two weeks ago at house church, not the one we just had two days ago, but the previous one, I was talking with a friend, and asked him a question. It strikes me as funny, now, that I can't remember the question - I think it might have been about some dreams I'd been having, and a random theory I developed that my bedroom was causing my nightmares because a girlfriend had spent two nights on my floor, and had weird dreams both nights too.

Anyway, the question doesn't really matter, it was his response that stuck with me. He paused, and then prayed, asking God what he could say - odd, yes, but I expect odd from this friend - that's why I take him all my odd questions! He paused, looked at me, and said, "He wants to be Lord in your life." Such simple words, communicated gently, caringly. "I don't think He's Lord right now, is He?"

What do you say in response? I think I stumbled through a "probably not" type of answer - feeling truth that was only beginning to surface.

We had talked that night as a smaller group of our house church about some passages in Philippians, and I admitted to that small group that I've been choosing disobedience by ignoring a directive from God for the last several months. I remember thinking afterwards, when my friend asked me if "he was Lord" that it was a stupid question - I'd just finished telling them that I was choosing disobedience. How could He be Lord in my disobedience?

Accountability is a beautiful but painful thing. The members of that little cluster - the four of them - all on my case about this for the past two weeks.

All those words, percolating through my head. Thinking and having conversations about why this is such a difficult step of obediece - to call a counsellor and get some help. Working through stuff, trying to answer the question of why this step is so terrifyingly difficult fro me.

Two weeks of this, and I climbed on the bus tonight to head home after my evening class. I finished the only novel in my bad this morning. I couldn't bring myself to crack open a textbook and do assigned reading after being at school for nearly twelve hours today. Tetris on my cell phone only held my interest for five minutes (unusual since I love that stupid little game). I had a seat to myself - that doesn't usually happen. I opened my bag, rummaging for something to fill the 45 minute journey home. The Bible caught my eye - the little one I leave in my school bag, the one with the leather binding that protects the pages from being mashed during my daily commute.

Inspiration. I'll read... Philippians. Ignore the guilt that this is the first time I've opened Scripture in weeks. Just start reading. There should be enough time to read Philippians start to finish. It'll be good for me.

Reading. Reading. Stop. "being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus." (1:6) A good work? It hasn't felt like a "good" work for a very long time. I needed that reminder - that it's good. "...Carry it on to completion" - this will, one day be finished. I'm not neglected or forgotten. Thanks, God.

Okay, keep reading. Reading. Reading. Reading. Stop. "...continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you to will and to act according to his good purpose." (2:12b-13) It is God who works in me. Hmmm. I am not self-sufficient. But I've worked really hard to be self-sufficient. You can't expect God to intervene when you won't admit your need. But I admit my need - haven't you heard me pray? You say you need, but you don't let go. Oh, good point. Why is that?

Well, those father wounds you've been feeling lately - the ones you've been talking to me about? The ones you've been trying to ignore? This is one of them. Your dad always said think for yourself, learn to do it yourself - remember the lawn mowing incident, and the checking and adding oil to the car, and hanging pictures - the list goes on. You're trying so hard to be independent and self-sufficient that you forgot to rely on ME - the heavenly Father, the one you need to please. This is why it's so hard for you to make that phone call - You can't admit the failure - that you need help to pull your life together.

Jesus, thank you for revelations like these. Protect them in my heart. I'm sorry for leaving you out. I need You. I need Your help and Your healing. I'm going to obey You. I'm going to make that phone call. Soon. I love these moments. I hope for more of them to come. Your daughter, on her way home, Lisa.


p.s. I woke up on Friday morning (after sleeping solidly through the night for the first time in weeks) and tried to busy myself with other pursuits - reading, emails, but nothing worked. Everything I did felt like prolonging the inevitable. I had peace, and I had courage and strength that were not of me. I made the phone call!