God . . blessing.

Okay, I will have to say, my life has been going startingly well.

I have a job I love, great friends, a church family that inspires me, and, in new news, a “kindred spirit” man-of-God I have fallen deeply in love with.  In a way, I could say I feel very blessed right now.

And that would be true–sort of.

It is very true that God is blessing me right now.  It is equally true that there is no reason why He should.  I have heard the expression before of basically, “You are doing what God wants, so He is honoring/blessing you.”  But I for sure know this isn’t why.

I am irrevocably in love with God.  But I am totally a mess in & of myself.  Today I am pretty sure I walked around the entire circumference of my local zoo (with a troupe of kiddos from children’s Sunday school) with my slip draping below my skirt because, well–as I discovered when I came home–the slip was too long for the skirt.  This is certainly not a character flaw, but it does a pretty good job of illustrating who I am.

In & of myself, I am a mess.  Total.  What I try to get right, I can’t, and what I don’t try to get right, I don’t, either.  I say awkward things, I talk way too much when I am nervous, many important things totally slip my mind, I have a knack for completely exactly 30% of 90% of the projects I do, clutter starts falling from the ceiling nearly as soon as I enter a room (or something like that), I am amazingly adept at forgetting things that everybody should know, I have blonde moments without the beautiful sunny-colored hair to go with them, I fear that God will get totally fed up with me, and I am never deeply far from falling apart, it seems–but because God is inside me I never really will.

If God had a tally chart for every person who has ever lived, and He blessed people accordingly, I would live on a rowboat in somebody’s front lawn and I would have a pet cat.  (Please don’t be mad, cat-lovers.)  There is no way I can look at my life and point to anything remotely “meritous” and say, This is why God is blessing me.

My spirit almost cringes when I hear the words “God has really blessed me,” actually.  It’s isn’t because He hasn’t blessed people, but it’s because of when we choose to say those words.

When I stood in my dining room nine years ago watching my father cough up Sports Shakes and knowing that, if he couldn’t get his airways free, EMT’s could do nothing, God was blessing me.

When I lay in my bed sobbing and sobbing six or so years ago because I was losing battle after battle to panic attacks, God was blessing me.

All the days I clenched my fists and thought about how much I despised myself . . all the times I went to college with my hair soaking wet because I was too tired to look nice when my dad was wasting away to nothing . . way back when I was the teenager raising my fist at God because the clique I was banished from kept getting further and further outside my reach . . when I found out my young, little dog who was most of my social network had died in his sleep . . when I sobbed over the stress of final exams . . when I spent hours and hours in front of a television droning out the world and punching buttons on a game controller . . when I lay on the floor of my attic realizing my father was really dead and I really couldn’t say another goodbye . .

God was blessing me.

Because in everything I have gone through, in everything I have done to myself, in everything I have ruined, in everything I have learned, in everything I have been given, every time I have screamed, and every time I have laughed . .

God has been blessing me.

Tonight is no more and no less filled with blessing than the morning I turned 28 and sobbed because I didn’t think I would ever be anything but single.

Tonight is no more and no less filled with blessing than the day I was pulled out from teaching third graders to learn my father had less than 24 hours left to live.

Tonight is no more and no less filled with blessing than the evening I lay awake wondering if the floor was going to fall out from under me and I was going to go to Hell.

Because every moment of my life, in every cacophony I have created or been subjected to, God’s melody has been playing.  Steadily.

There is no day of my life where God blessed me more than any other, because, you see, it has all been a blessing . . except there was one day God blessed me most of all.  That was the day I gave my life to Christ, so that rather than merely hearing the melody of God, my life became a part of God’s melody.

Right now, I am so blessed.

–And, I always have been.

Come sun come rainy day
You are still the same.

In the dark, in the light
In the morning and night
In the good, in the hurt
In the places I hide
When I rise, when I fall
You’ll be there through it all
At the start, at the end.
In the center of the center of it.
— “Center of It” by Chris August

Don’t you see how wonderfully kind, tolerant, and patient God is with you? Does this mean nothing to you? Can’t you see that his kindness is intended to turn you from your sin? (Romans 2:4, NLT)

“For he gives his sunlight to both the evil and the good, and he sends rain on the just and the unjust alike.” (Jesus, quoted in Matthew 5:24b, NLT)


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