The Edge, and the Rest

If you've read my recent posts, or had a conversation with me, you'll possibly have noticed that I've been doing a little wrestling. A friend described it as trying to figure out how to do better at being. It feels a lot like trying to get my feet under me in a knee deep mud puddle while keeping my hands clean. And Jesus, out of His limitless kindness, has promised to be with me there, muddy and frustrated, if that's what I want.

But, also, there's this invitation I hear from Him: "There are more easeful places to be together." The brooks of bliss in Psalm 1 come to mind:

They (who follow God's ways) will be standing firm like a flourishing tree planted by God's design, deeply rooted by the brooks of bliss, bearing fruit in every season of their lives.

When I finally paused the wrangle long enough to listen, admitting to being weary of the whole thing, feeling at the edge of my ability to figure it out (whatever it is), He said:

"Let's just go over here together to the edge of yourself, and sit down. Here, together. [Reader, we were all there: me and also the Father, the Son and the Spirit, three in one, indistinguishable.] And, let's dangle our legs over the edge here, of you." And the Creator, Redeemer and Guide started dangling and swinging His legs. It didn't feel dangerous at all, that edge. Instead the general sense of the place was delight. Maybe there was even some chortling from someone as we sat there, side by side, swinging our legs.

"What do you see out there?" He asked, as I finally looked up and out. "I can't see much at all," I answered. It looked like clouds, but glowing golden, and translucent instead of stuffed with rain. "I don't know what's out there," I said. "Well," He replied, "it's all Me. Everything out here beyond the edge of you is all Me. Do you need to know what it is?"

It turns out I don't need to know. Not at all. It's all Him. He is faithful, good, tender and kind. He loves me, and I have said (and meant it) that I desire to go anywhere with Him and nowhere without Him.

So, here we will sit: on the edge of me, where everything beyond is Him. It's some very good company I'm keeping here, legs dangling and swinging to the unforced rhythms of His grace. My part is to show up, even (especially?) when I am empty. All the rest is Him.

Art Credit: Cloud Study, 1821, John Constable [public domain:National Gallery of Art]