In anticipation of a new year...

I feel things shifting in me again. In a way I really can’t even begin to describe or understand. What are you trying to say to me, Lord?

Is this is? Is this coming year the one for adventure, for transition, for new things? Is it the one we’ve been talking about for the last six months?

You keep drawing me lower, drawing my heart to places I never expected. You are breeding things in me that I don’t understand.

Last year at this time I was waiting with a friend for her mom to die. I asked you what to pray, and you said, pray “Hallelujah.” I was a month out of a five year span of depression, a month separated from wanting my life to end. I was waiting for a death, and watching a friend engage in self-destruction. And you said, “pray hallelujah.”

I didn’t even know what the word meant. I had to look it up. “Hallelujah – glory to God.” So many times over the course of this wild and crazy year I asked you again what to pray, and you just kept speaking that word – hallelujah.

You taught me to search for the hallelujah in the midst of darkness. You walked with me through my own trials, and the trials of those you called me to. And you kept speaking hallelujah.

Sometimes you added the word “Immanuel.” You said pray, “hallelujah, Immanuel.” Glory to God. God with us.

And now, we’re seven days from a new year. And things are shifting again. I’m being pulled lower, pulled deeper, pulled further in. And I don’t understand, and I can’t quite explain. You’re still whispering “hallelujah” in my ears, but it’s different. Something is changing. Something I can’t quite put my finger on.

I’m here, Lord. I’m waiting for Your voice, your direction. What will you speak this year? What will you lead me into?

A year ago my plan was to become settled. Today, there are things within me that rebel at the very idea of being settled. There is this awakening desire to see your kingdom in forms spread across the globe. To love on the broken – the desire grows ever deeper. To meet you during pilgrimages. To spend months dedicated to you – internships, or traveling. I want to meet you. To meet you in the homeless man in the parking lot like a couple weeks ago, to meet you in the eyes of a baby, to meet you in broken women, to meet you in youth kids at church, to meet you in dreams and visions, to meet you in places I’d never dreamed of finding myself.

My heart is set on the journey. You are drawing me deeper, but outward. You are broadening the spaces in my heart and soul.
And I’m waiting here for your voice, for your words, for your hands.

Next steps aren’t clear, but I know they’re coming.

And in the meantime, I’m going to keep searching for, to keep speaking, to keep attempting to live a hallelujah.