A couple of years ago as I was walking gracefully through a parking lot, I stepped on the hem of my apparently-too-long pants, tripped and fell flat on my hands and knees. Hard. I rolled over and sat there, nearly in tears, rubbing my skinned palms and wondering how in the world I could manage to bloody both knees and not even rip my pants, when Mike reached his hand down to help me up. "Aren't you glad I was here?" he asked. "NO!!!" I reacted. "I would much rather sit here alone on the ground in pain than have you see me clumsy and humiliated!"
God used 2010 to get my attention in much the same way. He didn't whisper in the wind or sing over me in my sleep. No, He tucked the hem of my pants under my very comfortable Clark loafers (metaphorically, of course), and let me trip and fall flat on my face. And, unable to pull myself up, I am sitting here still. The worst part of being flat on your face is that it hurts, and you can't see what's in front of you except the floor, and I don't like not knowing what's in front of me. I mean I REALLY don't like not knowing what's in front of me. But He is letting me see my life from a different perspective and He is giving me the prospect of renewed hope . . . maybe not now, but Someday.
When you are facedown on the floor there is no pretending you've got it all together. Being on your face is humbling . . . and incredibly lonely . . . and frankly, there's not much to do down here but be patient and pray. A lot. I think that has been the point. He is causing me to wait on Him (even when all I can see is the floor) and to TRUST that He will provide what I need in His time.
My Matthew 6 verses for today:
"When you pray, go into your closet and close the door . . . don't do it for show. Don't be like those who only pretend to be holy. Your Father knows what you need even before you ask him."
I have a lengthy prayer list I have been praying through every day for two months already, but I'm committed to continue praying for the entire list every day through 2011. Last year I would have found this tedious . . . this year it feels like a privilege. But don't expect to see me praying . . . I'll be doing so in my closet.