My God. The God of surprising sustenance.
He sustains me when my life feels like it’s a constant cycle of moving boxes, semesters of grad school and emotional scar tissue being built up through constant surrender and intention.
Healing takes time. Moving to a new place takes settling. Jobs change, semesters change, my moods change, my body changes, the seasons, relationships and positions of the moon are never still.
But my soul can be. And that is only by the grace of a sustaining God.
I had a really beautiful morning with Mary and Elizabeth and a bunch of boys in the Gospels today.
I read the story of Mary, a faithful, believing and sustained young girl going through the transition of all transitions. She goes to visit her cousin Elizabeth who is with child as well after waiting through much heartache and intentional trust in God’s promises.
Their babies leap, the Spirit moves and they worship Jesus.
Then there’s the story of Zachariah, the doubting husband of Elizabeth who upon receiving his voice back faithfully praises the God who sustains instead of being bitter about why his voice was taken for a time.
There’s John the Baptist, faithful from the womb.
There’s Andrew who bids his brother Simon to come and see this new Jesus guy where he is given a new name upon interacting with the One who sees us as our truest identities.
Page after page I read and soaked in the stories of my ancestors before me.
They weren’t perfect, but they were willing to trust that just around the corner there was a promise already fulfilled waiting for them.
They listened to the ache in their hearts for something more even when the world told them they were crazy to listen.
They held onto hope, let go of bitterness, and worshipped. They invited others to come and see the hope that they knew.
They allowed themselves to be sustained. In all of their humanity, imperfection and doubt, they allowed God to show them that He actually meant it when He said that none of that could keep Him from loving and sustaining them.
I sit amongst boxes again today, yes, again, as I pack up the home I’ve only known for three months and get ready for yet another transition.
I’m tired physically, unsure of what’s coming next, but my soul is truly still. I feel an incredible peace that I know only comes from the only force larger than the inconsistency of this life.
This peace has only come from me taking a cue from my brothers and sisters in the Bible and making a choice this morning. A choice to be quiet, to be still, to rejoice and to worship my sustainer. I pictured being in the room with Mary and Elizabeth—Facing the unknown; trusting in the knowing God. Worshipping.
I put on some worship music, and I swear those two sisters of mine were in the room with me as we praised a God who knows. A God who holds us.
We lifted God up with thousands of generations of praise. We lifted a God up who transcends time and space and every limitation of this temporary home of ours.
I am sustained by this truth.
God is truly the anchor in an ever changing world, and that is always cause for worship.