sir, and you certainly don’ t want that.”
I almost said it. I really wanted to. I wanted to ignore him and rush in to suck down that brown nectar from the green goddess. But I didn’ t. I didn’ t because sometimes you know it is the voice of God pulling you in to something great, and if you don’ t slow down and listen for just a minute, you’ ll miss it.
I stopped. I stopped because I was deathly afraid of missing something greater, something powerful, or something that would release the feeling that an unbound schedule meant I would plummet straight into dark depths of despair. So I took the risk. I drew near, and the closer I got the more I couldn’ t help but inhale his stench and observe his deep, dirty lines of life-pain. I didn’ t want all this heaviness on my rush-in and rush-out stop-off. I knew this daily twenty-one-minute commute inside-out, and pausing now would throw my whole day off.
Yet what I have realized is that stopping and stepping into unsafe forces us to receive God’ s new safe. Will we risk it? Will we receive it?
It’ s the only place we get to see that God won’ t turn His back on us, disregard our emotions, or critique us. Rather He’ ll speak straight into our gaps of discomfort— if we let Him. Will we?
I wish I could tell you, as that man and I talked, that I was given some glory story with words so powerful they made my insides settle like peaceful, early morning fog, but I can’ t. Our shared words are mostly blurred in my memory now, but the underlying message of this encounter can’ t be erased: shushing up and slowing down is paramount to God working in us— and strengthening us. The truth is, God is ready to hit us with unfathomable new perspectives— ones that redefine our past, present, and problems if we will only stop, receive, and consider.
Will we? Will we walk unafraid into His presence? Into God’ s rhythms? Not cowering from mysteries?
You see— that man and I? We both had needs that day, though maybe we didn’ t even know what we needed. Maybe we didn’ t know why we reached out to each other. Maybe our lack of knowledge didn’ t matter. God knew. He positioned that man at the door and me heading to it. He set up a blind date founded on the principle of love— and waited for the celebration to unfold. God’ s deep affection was stored up in this chance connection of two unlikely souls. It often is, if only we stop, receive, and consider.
What if I had pretended like I couldn’ t see or hear him and just kept walking?
It pains me to think how I could have missed his eyes. Eyes that looked into mine the same way mine looked into his. Eyes that understood. Eyes that said, I see you. I care for you. It is hard out there. Even more, it pains me to think there was a chance I could have missed God’ s great collision that wanted to break up my don’ t-get-too-close-to-me mentality. Oh, I thank God I didn’ t miss out. I thank God I didn’ t miss His small prompting of, I see what you are going through. I know you.
I stopped. Received. Considered.
God knew both what he needed and what I needed.
This show called life— although we think it’ s about us, it hardly is at all. There is so much more to it. When we open our eyes to the greater possibilities, we enter an immersive experience where love comes alive, where the pin-drop nature of God’ s whispers are heard, and where the form of who we were actually made to be emerges. We hardly need scripts, because the whole point of unconditional love is that it’ s entirely unscripted. We don’ t have to know everything but just have to be willing to accept His everything. To let it settle right into the deep gashes of fear. Then, things change.
Don’ t Miss It!
Now I can’ t help but think that some of you might look at this story and say,“ So what? You slowed down?
SMG Solutions 45