I woke up with a strange prayer on my lips today. It was a sort of prayer for blankness, a wordless plea to be stripped of all.
I fell asleep last night after a wonderful dinner with Jesse and Amy, and our conversation rang and rang in my head as I slept. We spoke of the provision of God, the timeliness of the comings and goings of his spirit, and the limitless love of his son. Of course, we also talked a lot about dumb things we did growing up and dumb things we plan on doing in the future. There was crass dinner-table regaling of my brother's violent, vomitous reaction to a road-stop ham sandwich between peaking fourteeners in the Rockies, of the uncertain thought processes that led Jesse and I and our roommate, Matt, to venture off on a 4-hour hike into the Appalachians at dusk with a flashlight and a hatchet ("Wow, I didn't see that sheer cliff face inches from the trail when we passed by this way last night...), and brief descriptions of the various media that we each possess which could, in one fell swoop, bring any of our political aspirations to a swift and decisive halt.
And through all of this, it's being revealed to me just what an intimate front-row seat our savior takes for all of these moments. I'm so thankful for all of the wonderful people that have surrounded me since birth. These relationships are proof of the provision of God in my life, even before I knew where to attribute the blessing.
So, today, as I let thoughts flow and invited Christ in, he began to encourage a willingness to purge. It's been a month now since this rapturous Love first seized my heart, reclaiming all of my life and trials. Not a long time, but long enough for God to come in and place a yearning for cleansing, complete and final. I just want every dark corner of my soul exposed. I want every closed door open to Christ's transformational presence. Some things may enter back in to my life and co-habitate with him after he makes his presence complete, but I want nothing there to impede the move-in process.
Through this meditation, the phrase Tohu Va Vohu came back to mind, illuminated in a different way. Heretofore, I've understood the Hebrew phrase as 'shapeless and void,' or 'utter chaos,' as found in the first book of Genesis, where "the earth was tohu va vohu, and the spirit of God hovered of the surface of the deep." I was given a new picture of this scenario - the new, fresh Earth, covered over in water like a peaceful sunrise lake, unconsciously waiting for the presence of God to descend upon it in creative power and take up domain in all it's vastness, filling it with wonders. What a wonderful place to be - empty like a deep exhale before moving the first box into a new apartment. Nothing but potential and excitement, and the knowledge that the good stuff is yet to come. Only all we have to do is wait on God to do the moving. We just have to sit and wait and be Tohu Va Vohu until God is ready to do his thing.
This comes as a stark contrast to the painful, tumultuous place the chaos of formation and transformation can be. What a blessing.
Going to meet Klee for a last breakfast before I ship out. More to come.