No More Normal

So, here we are. Week 457 of shelter in place. That’s probably a bit dramatic. At least once a week, I have an outburst that I won’t get to see a certain artist in concert this year (looking at you, Harry Styles). My mom and I keep having conversations about how we just want to get back to normal. And yet… what is normal? Normal, a few months ago, was for me being mentally and physically worn out. Overwhelming schedule. Wanting to have time to create and dream again. Longing for creativity and settling for Netflix. Wishing for more time to spend with my family and for intentional moments with God, yet settling for distraction. Dreaming of moments to breathe, gasping for Sabbath pause and rushing to the next item on my agenda. Y’all. What if normal is just… not… normal? What if that is never how we were supposed to live in the first place? Frazzled, distraught, distracted and overwhelmed. None of that is how Jesus lived. Jesus didn’t rush from town to town. He didn’t even rush to heal Lazarus before he passed away. Jesus, secure in the plan of His Father, was about His business. Building disciples, healing the sick, loving the children, ministering in every way He could. Are we secure in the plan of the Father? Do we trust that He is maneuvering, creating, organizing or do we feel like it’s our responsibility to help Him out? Is that what our lives were before this quarantine? Are our actions prompted by a sense of legalistic requirement rather than the joy of grace and the pull of the Holy Spirit? These are rude questions, but ones I am having to ask myself. What am I trying to prove?

Who am I trying to prove it to, anyway?

If my schedule is so busy that I don’t have time to sit at the feet of the Father and love his children, what’s the point? So maybe I am starting to realize that I don’t want normal anymore. I don’t want to lose the time I’ve had with Jesus for my concert schedule. I don’t want to lose the moments I’ve had with my family, the intentional conversations I’ve had with friends, the moments where I have gotten to share Jesus with people who don’t know Him yet. Jesus certainly does move in great and mighty ways, but I find that so often to me, He speaks in a whisper. He urges me to Him in a voice that makes me draw close and pay attention. He does it when I’m working with flowers, while I’m mowing the lawn at my grandparents property, when I’m taking communion quietly in my home with my dog, in all the moments I didn’t treasure before this quarantine. I am not trying to make light - there are many things happening right now that confuse and bother me, that make me pause, but I have to cling to Jesus. Is He my firm foundation, my provider, my salvation, my healer, or am I putting my faith somewhere else with my actions and thoughts? I choose Jesus. I choose to never be normal again. I choose to dream, to create, to hope, to speak life into darkness, to have intentional community, to love harder and value every hug. I choose life. He’s enough. The stone that the builders rejected has now become the cornerstone. Psalm 118:22 I remain confident of this: I WILL see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Psalm 27:13 Behold! I am doing a new thing; Now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and streams in the desert. Isaiah 43:19