That was the word He gave me at the start of the weekend.
It was there in the driving and the traffic.
It was there in the late arrival and the sleeping arrangements.
It hung heavy as I battled my pride to stand and claim struggles that I wish weren’t mine.
I whispered it as I fought a hard heart and frazzled brain
to raise arms in worship and focus heart on hearing.
The conference speakers proclaimed so much truth.
Their energy sent shockwaves through the rows of women
who came to hear something good, something true,
something to hold onto and carry into their too full, too empty, too broken days.
Here and Now.
If I were to sum up nine hours of speakers and worship it would sit on those words.
We only ever have Here and Now.
You can’t waste your Here and Now
looking and longing and waiting on There and Then
because when Here moves to There it is still Here.
We are only ever Here.
She spoke laughing at this riddle of profound truth.
Here is all we have. This I know.
How God, do I do this?
How? I beg of Him.
How? when Here hurts.
How? when Here seems filled with uncertainty.
How? when all I see of Here is dead ends.
How do I walk through Here present and not paralyzed?
How do I know what to do with Here when I do not have a map to There?
And there is that word again.
I had lost it.
Scribbled small and uncertain
among the pages of quotations and questions
the weekend had offered.
Merriam-Webster states the intransitive verb meaning of Surrender
as “to give oneself up into the power of another”.
Can you Surrender? He asks this of me.
Can you give up yourself into My Power?
Can you give up There into My Power?
Can you give up Here into My Power?
Can you live in Here, knowing that I AM both Here and There?
That only I AM both Here and There.
And if I say I have you There it means that I also have you Here.
Where time hurries you from Here to There, I AM unconcerned with time.
I still need to know.
How can I live Here when worries and days pile one on top of the other?
When prayers are unanswered and my anxieties weigh down the air
until it is both my inhale and my exhale.
How can I live Here and Holy
when I don’t ever seem to hear You
and sometimes it feels like maybe You aren’t even Here?
In between Malachi’s final prophesies and Luke’s New Testament beginnings
there were 400 years with no prophetic Word from God.
The Word I hold in my hands says they were sometimes called the 400 Silent Years.
Yet though His voice was quiet, the history of these 400 years followed,
with exact precision, the patterns predicted in the book of Daniel.
And there it is, in black and white, silence is not absence.
Where His voice was silent His hands were orchestrating history.
Your Word is a lamp
And this I know.
That it is Your Word that lights up Here.
That I can stand surrendered to Here by leaning hard
into The Lamp that lights my path.
He is not silent, He has already spoken.
And I can see that clearly when
are you there, God? is replaced by Here I am, God.
When Here thumbs through Holy pages of black and white
I see where God was and is and is to come.
My heart song becomes
this world is not our home,
and thy will be done,
and where you go I’ll go,
and be anxious in nothing.
Here I sit.