Sunday, August 1, 2010


This is where we live most of our lives. This is where I am now, holding my breath. Waiting. In between the dream and the dream come true. But the question is this: am I truly willing to wait without trying to control my life as I see fit?

Waiting is always the hardest start. This is a treacherous land. Thousands have laid their bones to rest in this valley. And I must admit, part of me feels comforted by the thought of sleeping with skeletons.

But a voice, a whisper – maybe just the wind, or maybe the Creator of the wind – bids me to steady my stance, to still my shaking legs and hold my ground. Because to move forward unbidden is the same as to lay down and die. This is not my home, but the time to leave has not yet come. Soon, but not yet.

And in the moments ahead, everything will change.

For the past few years, I’ve been maxing out at about seventy percent. But most of the time I’ve been living at about half of the potential I know is buried somewhere deep inside myself. Add to this a series of unavoidable casualties and irreversible setbacks – wounds given and received – and the weight of immobility begins to sink in. I wonder: could I leave even if I wanted to?

But I’ve sensed a shift in the wind. Subtle. Nearly imperceptible, yet inescapably real. Could it be true? Could He be coming to free me from this weight?

And then, at other times, I’m certain that nothing is different, that the days ahead hold only more of the same. That I truly am stuck.

Everything hangs on this moment. Everything depends on what happens next.

I’m holding my breath in anticipation. Without a doubt, despite my doubts, rescue is coming. I may not see it, hear it, taste it, smell it, or feel it, but it is coming. And when the coming months have taken their toll, I know I will not be the only one to stand in awe before the marvelous workings of the Redeemer – the Author and Finisher. This is as much an invitation as a declaration. Hope for it. Believe it. Expect it.

As for me, I am done arranging my life. I lift up my hands in surrender. Change is coming, not through my inaction, but in ways that my actions alone could never bring about. When these shadows and scars are behind me, all the glory will be Yours. Your mighty arm alone is able to save. You alone will have done this.

So this is me, waiting to exhale.