Shapeless Light

    “Come, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and he who has no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price.Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy? Listen diligently to me, and eat what is good, and delight yourselves in rich food." 

                                                                   Isaiah 55:1-2

     Words. Identity. Vision.
   It is there. It has to be there. I'll just reach farther--dig deeper. I'll say more and push harder. I'll keep looking, and one day, and I will find it hidden under rubble. If I find the right words, I could go anywhere. If I just make the right impression, I could be limitless; if I just tap into the right sources, I could be guaranteed success. I'll seek it out with time, and then I will be complete; it will be found, and a rest will enter my soul.
  Along the way, I can't mess up. I can't fail. I can't show my struggle or reveal the hardship waging in my soul. My works must be tangible, graspable, tasteful, and worthy. I must be confident, bold, powerful.

The dust that I am must not blow in the wind: it must be something, do something, go somewhere.

My trap has been set: I could die in the latches of my own dream.

   The weight of who I want to be, what I want to say, who I want to reach "gets to me" at times. I have a fear of not being a person of influence. I am afraid that my words won't mean anything after I die. I am afraid of not making an impact in my family, community, world. And then my identity turns on me, and I forget who I am. In the end, I'm groping around in a shapeless room, blind.

   Then, a light sheds in. In my blind state, I can't see the light, but the light doesn't have to be seen to be real. It just is. In my frenzied mind, I try to grab the light! I try to form it, shape it, manipulate it. I try to stuff it into a small satchel and carry it with me. I try to wrap myself in it, fling it into certain rooms, and push it into the dark corners. But light can't be held or shaped.
   I tell the Lord what I want to become and where I want to go in life. I tell him to send me certain places and make me into a certain person. I try to stuff Him into my own little box, but I only end up questioning and exhausted.
   Then, I want to remind God of the vision He has given me. I want to keep moving, doing, and reaching toward the goal! I want to put Him where I want Him, and ask Him to work. It's selfish and reviling, but real and true. Maybe you can relate, maybe not.
   What if I stopped trying, thinking, manipulating? I am meant to dwell in the light. It has been created to encompass me. It will continue to be potent, pure, beautiful, majestic light until the end of time; logically, His plan for me can only reflect His perfect nature and will. I simply choose to accept Him.

   Now, I will breath. I will pause and remember a redeeming, just God that will always be Holy, perfect, lovely regardless of the many times I've forgotten His promises.

    Even the words I've just written could cause you to feel anxious: "I must do more, write more, become more!" Please, just let it be. Let the light create your path, and don't try to see beyond the immediate illumination. He is always enough! Always.