Failed

Not a month after I wrote about my great experience where I stepped out in faith and I promised to continue, I have failed it. Like Peter, I rode from the high right off the cliff and back into the mud.

As usual, no details. This about my experience, not the gossip. I encountered a friend yesterday who seemed upset. I went to talk to her and she broke down crying. I stayed and comforted her trying to learn if there was anything I could do without prying into the source of pain which is not my business. It became clear after a little while that she just needed time to let it out and being there was enough. but I had pressing engagements and was running late from the outset. Failing all options I could think of to help the situation and being satisfied that it would be ok, even being reassured by this person that she was ok, I opted to leave thinking there was nothing else I could do.

But as soon as I set off I felt this sinking wrongness like I should not have left. I justified that I had to go and other people were waiting on me. But the flat sadness settled on me and I almost wanted to turn back. I even talked about it to my wife, justifying my action outloud to her that I had done everything I could. That I always tried to and that it was beyond my control to do more. I even thought it must be a lesson for me to let God handle things and stay out of the way.

But the feeling that I had missed it never left. All day and all night it tugged at me. I even tried to call and make sure she was ok later, but could reach no one. Oddly, my phone even kept cutting out when I did get through so that I couldn't talk, though it worked fine to anyone else.

Then this morning at work I was listening to some new music I had just gotten...a particularly meditative song about failing and forgiveness while I was reading some super dry documents. Slowly, I settled into that place of contemplation and I understood. I HAD missed it. I should have stayed. I have no idea how it would have gone...If I'd have missed my entire plans or not. Maybe it would have turned into another glorious expression of God's love in real life. But I'll never know now. I was reminded of my promise and of every other time I've squelched that small fire telling me to do something. I teared up right there at my desk as I confessed and repented yet again.

Thank God he doesn't depend on me to help other people. Like Jonah, I'm constantly running the other way in my own understanding and I never seem to get it. But I have confidence that I will also be belched up on the scorching sands and end up right where he wants me in spite of myself. I'd just be very happy to stay out of the whalebelly for a little while. Even still I know that it is in the belly that the old is digested away. In the fire of this belly that the refining takes place and though I hate it and hate myself when I fail, I can quickly rejoice in it. Not a happy rejoicing like I used to misunderstand. It's a sad somber powerful rejoicing that God's power is manifest in my ineptitude.

I know it makes no sense. We seem a twisted masochistic bunch, we Christians, to those who haven't yet been burned through. To most people it is no wonder we've been mistaken for everything from cannibals to orgiasts.

God help me to listen, beat me over the head with your words, and help me learn fast. Break me, mold me, use me.