In the comfort of familiarity, it’s easy to
feel safe and in control. One feels as if their bases are covered, they have a
handle on things, and they are secure in routine. Independent. Composed.
Protected.
But once our routine gets rocked around, we
are driven headfirst into something unfamiliar, or something comes along that
we can’t control, our feeling of independence is shattered. We realize that
we’re never in control, we cannot find our security and safety in ourselves,
and no matter how collected we may look on the outside, there will always be
times of inner turmoil.
We realize we’re desperate.
My summer has been crazy so far. Save the
first couple weeks after my semester ended, I haven’t spent more than a week in
the same place. I’m constantly running from one thing to the next, trying to be
prepared for whatever is next on my agenda. And somewhere in the stress and
chaos, I see it.
Desperation.
Try as I might, I will never come to the
place where I can do it all by myself. I will never quite have a handle on
things or be able to rely on my own abilities and strength to get by. My
attempts at perfection will always come up short, and anything I try to bring
to the table will never be enough.
But this desperation doesn’t have to be a
bad thing. It shouldn’t be a bad thing, because our desperation is meant to
bring us to dependence. When we finally reach the breaking point and realize we
could never handle things on our own, the door opens up for God to come in and
breath his assurance that he is our strength. He is our provider. He is our
joy. Our peace. Our Savior. Our life. When we come to the point of realization
that we truly are desperate for him, we can truly begin to depend on him.
Desperate. Dependence.
[soli deo gloria]