One morning last week I woke up thinking about the dream I'd just had: I was meeting with a couple young women I was mentoring (don't know who they were) and asked them a bizarre question, "When you pray, who do you pray to?" I think I was expecting them to respond with either the Father, the Son, or the Holy Spirit. The first answered with, well, I honestly don't remember, but her answer seemed normal. The second girl paused, and sheepishly said, "I pray to Safety." This was not, "I pray for safety," but "I pray to [the god of] safety."
In the dream I went on to explain to these girls that safety is not so safe after all, that self-protection leads to self-destruction in that it kills the heart. I passionately tried to help them understand this.
But I woke up disturbed by the dream. I believe what I told the girls. My desire is to live in the junk of life rather than running from it. While I'm comfortable enough diving into hard conversations and wading through "muck and mire," the scarier thing is to be stuck on the sidelines, feeling out of control, confused, and as though there's nothing I can do except wait. I wish I could say that I've got this figured out, that I choose God's path of gracious uncertainty all the time, but the truth is, I am still on the journey of learning to trust Him with what is unknown and seemlingly unsafe.
I'm sure there will be much more on this topic in the next year...or ten. Stay tuned...
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