I believe that God shows up first. God’s been here before I even thought about it or knew that it was a pronoun, or knew that it was a word. God’s preemptive; a preemptive eternal hugger. Before the hurt, before the tired–before the whatever it is that needs hugging–God arms are around me, holding me up, reminding me who I am and who I might be, saying “Here is the way,” no matter how many times I step off course.
God has outrageous plans. They include me. Outrageously fun, and filled with laughter and color and life. Today I get to be with God–as I will forever–I just gotta show up to the day with a willingness and a realization that I am not God. Just because it’s dreary or January or I’m tired doesn’t mean outrageous can’t show the heck up.
I believe God is good. And I believe hurt is real. Pain is real. Tears don’t just drop, they’re ripped from us unsuspecting again and again in this life. God is good and comforts us, joins us in the suffering. The suffering and God’s people sloshing around in it (to help each other) are both evidence OF and FOR God.
I believe God is mysterious, and I love that. I love that I can’t know it all.
I believe that God is still creating–through us and for us.
I believe God is bigger than my worry, than my initiative, than my calendar chalk full, than my motherly inadequacy, than my relationship hiccups, than my fear of every little and big thing that might be. . . but probably never will. I believe that my happiest life is one turned out and upside-down from the way that gravity drags and weights down and dingies everything up around here.
I believe there’s a glimmer around every moment, if I’d just open my eyes, if I’d just slap myself silly somehow and wake up. WAKEUP! I believe I am, have been, and will continue to be the problem. And I believe that God loves me regardless. And I love That.