“I will sing until the miracle comes.” ~ Hillsong United
As I write this, I’m about 20,000 feet above the ground, somewhere between New York and Pennsylvania. The sun has just set, and the horizon outside my window looks like it’s on fire. The tears on my cheeks aren’t yet dry, and I’m at a loss for words.
My fellow passengers have sent me sympathetic glances here and there—I can only imagine they assume I’m crying because someone broke up with me or something catastrophic has happened. But that could not be further from the truth.
Before this month, I never knew that peace could bring you to tears. But now, it’s happened to me twice in the last two weeks. I’m awestruck by His desperate, astounding, unshaking love for me—love that delights in surprising me, and continues to go above and beyond to provide a future that isn’t just good, but is absolutely amazing. He loves me in a way that eliminates any need to strive, and so brings freedom, fills me with joy, and inspires confidence. He invites me to rest with Him, and to enjoy living in relationship with Him. I am in love with Him because of this love. It’s a love that can be trusted.
His love brings tears to my eyes, and I’m so thankful for the journey that has brought me here.
Don’t misunderstand me—these past few months have been full of challenges I never thought I’d face and battles I never thought I’d fight. Some have found me on my knees in prayer and others have driven me all the way down to the ground, lying flat before Him, with tears falling onto my bedroom floor.
Someone very wise once told me, “It’s okay to let God know you’re angry and frustrated. He’s big enough to take it.” I understand what that means now. Just like my earthly father, there are times I feel like I need something now and don’t see him working on it or moving quickly enough, so I make the entirely unfounded assumption that it’s not on his radar. That somehow, what’s important to me isn’t important to him anymore. Every time, my father will patiently listen to my ridiculous reasoning and desperation and, every time, answers me with one question: “Do you trust me?” “Yes, but—“ I’ll answer. “Ah,” he cuts me off. “No ‘but’. Do you trust me?”
For the past 23 years, each and every time I’ve jumped to the conclusion that my dad isn’t on the case, he has proved me to be egregiously wrong. He’s always working behind the scenes, going above and beyond to make sure don’t just have everything I need, but everything I could possibly dream of. My earthly father delights in surprising me and ensuring I always have more than I need, and the same is so true for my heavenly Father.
“Do you trust me?” That’s the question that I’ve found God asking me over and over in the last year. Sitting here on this plane right now, I can say, “Yes” without any hesitation or reservation.
“Rejoice in the Lord always. Again, I say rejoice!” That’s the key to life there, friends. I’ve met other Christians who seem entirely empty of joy—that they find no happiness or fun or excitement in their faith (and, some even seem to find it offensive that others do!). It’s the difference between religion and relationship. You can’t wholeheartedly trust someone that you don’t have a deep relationship with. And did you know—God wants better things for us than we want for ourselves! But, His ability to bring these things to us is entirely dependent on our faith in Him and His nature.
He loves us so desperately that He didn’t want to live without us, so He came down and took the pain we deserved so we could spend eternity with Him. He made this sacrifice for me, so I freely give Him my life.
I’m crying on a plane because He has written a story for me that is better than I could ever imagine, and I could not be more excited or confident to take this next step with Him.
“There isn’t any fear here, there isn’t any fear in love when You come.
There isn’t any heart here that you don’t want to overwhelm when you come.
I am speechless, but I can’t keep quiet.
I am wordless, but I can’t keep silent.
I’m lost for words to say. You take my breath away.
There isn’t any rush here, so I’m just going to wait on you and linger longer,
Because every time I find you, I’m a little more undone.
You move me, and I can’t define it.
You consume me, and I can’t describe it.
I am speechless, but I can’t keep quiet.
I am wordless, but I can’t keep silent.”
Wordless, Lauren Daigle
Thank you, Abba.