Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Rehearsal

They are gathered from the edges of our lives and weaved by the common thread of time and history, into our stories.

I'm so happy to see my friends again.

It is the night before our wedding day and it feels like victory.

Between smiles and teasing and remember-whens, I retrace God's goodness in my mind and try to imprint it there, like a photograph, so that I can pull it out again when I need to see His face--when I need to recall what He looks like.

The past months have been so full of moments that I could never have planned or predicted.


I reflect on all the ways that God has shown up, and it stretches my imagination.

My soon-to-be mother-in-law would affectionately say that God had been 'showing off again.'

Even she would agree though, that He was about to outdo himself.
                                       
The panicked phone call comes during rehearsal dinner: the person who had promised to provide the food and the flowers for the wedding has backed out.

Oh. Just that.

Understandably, the messenger is shaken up. Who wants to be the one to share this kind of news with the bride? Even if she's not the mascara wearing type, is there really a need to make the girl cry before her big day?

But the tears don't come.

A peace that makes absolutely no earthly sense guards my heart, and my first thought is actually that God has something up his sleeve.

I imagine my wedding dress and the curb in San Miguel, Mexico that I'd sat on, dirty faced, after my dad had phoned me to tell me the news that he had actually managed to sell my mess of a car.

I had so badly wanted to use what little money it would bring in on a dress-- to bring one back from this trip that had grown to mean so much to me.

My teammates didn't know about the car, or my plans, but I knew that God was asking me if trusted Him enough to let go of my dream; there was another need for that money, and I was the one who could help.

Could I release these things, or would I white knuckle the life out of them because of my fear that God would stop being good?

I let tears run paths down my cheeks.

Not giving an answer because you are afraid of the truth is still an answer.

But I had let go.

When I'd stepped off the plane after an adventure that logistically, should have never happened, I had not been empty handed.

It was not the way that I had planned it, but God had given me a dress to bring home.

Why would He leave me now?

Each step of faith that I had taken, and found sure, made the next one that I would need to take, easier. 

I was beginning to recognize his appearance and this was the reason for my hope.

Well it seems that I have started a series here, doesn't it? Feel free to click the links above, or scroll down for parts one and two. I am planning on wrapping this up soon (You know how you start something and don't always know where you are going with it? Yes, that.) but I'll be taking a quick detour before then.

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