This past year has brought to me a collection of simple, but radical truths. The more I grow, the more I reckon with the reality that I fall short, that I get distracted easily and that I can’t do everything right. Prayer for me has been a surrender that doesn’t always want to surrender. In the naked loneliness, I am met with the truth: “You are beloved,” says the One who orchestrates the rhythm of my breath. I have been coming to God, not always with something to say, but to just be with God. And that is hard. It is in this human natured resistance of wanting to work to be enough that the beautiful irony of the gospel is revealed to me. A perfect God would send God’s son to die for me. The more I sit with the realization that I always come empty-handed and wordless, whether I believe it or not, the more I crave to come back to that place. When you grip something, it creates tension and after a while you begin to ache and strain. It feels good to not hold anything. Besides, we need empty hands to be able to continue tending to God’s Kingdom on Earth.
Pray. . .Give. . .Go.